Chapter 5

As for whether there was still a young version of Ferren in this world, the Ferren who had taken over someone else’s body did not dare to think too deeply about this issue. He could only take it one step at a time, and the most critical thing was to determine whether this world was indeed the original one. Ferren planned to verify this after cleaning up the bloodstains.

After sorting out his thoughts, Ferren found a coat to cover his wounds, left the presidential suite, and still hung a "Do Not Disturb" sign, slipping out of the hotel.

On the street, Ferren realized he was in a bustling area of West London. He turned a few corners and, following the memory of the previous Ferren, found a black market store to buy several large bottles of cleaning agents and two bottles of industrial alcohol. He carried them to a secluded place, quietly put them into the hidden ring, and then returned to the hotel.

Ferren turned on the bathroom exhaust and threw all the bloodstained items into the bathtub, dousing them with alcohol and burning them. For the furniture and floor stained with blood, he used the cleaning agents to repeatedly scrub, not missing a single corner until they were clean.

After everything was settled and the ashes from the burning were flushed down the drain, Ferren called the guest manager to discuss the compensation for the missing items. After reaching an agreement, Ferren used the money from the assassin "Ferren" to pay the room fee and compensation, received a receipt, and immediately left the hotel.

Taking a taxi to ten blocks away, Ferren checked into a high-end suite at another hotel. He had to stay in London until the Euro Championship opened, as that was the day he was supposed to meet the detective. Additionally, the over ten million pounds in assassination money that the assassin "Ferren" had hidden in various European countries needed to be laundered, otherwise, it would be difficult to provide proof of assets for immigration to Hong Kong.

Most importantly, Ferren’s mother was a rigid university professor, and his father was a conservative minor official. To establish a relationship with the two elders, a clean background was absolutely necessary, and he did not want to lie to his parents. Therefore, after immigrating to Hong Kong, he had already planned what job he would do.

Police officer, a job that even insurance is hard to get, could somewhat win his father’s favor. Plus, Ferren wanted to hide his dark past, and such a profession was perfect for him. So, not only did he need to launder the money, but he also needed to find a way to clean up the assassin "Ferren’s" past.

Fortunately, the assassin "Ferren" had multiple identities, some of which were relatively clean, making it not too difficult to launder them. Moreover, at just twenty years old, with a handsome and innocent appearance, no one would believe that he had killed many people in the past ten years, which was a significant advantage in laundering.

After settling in, Ferren first found an agency to open an anonymous account at Standard Chartered Bank. The advantage of such an account was that anyone could withdraw money as long as they knew the account number and password.

The assassin "Ferren" did not have bank cards or credit cards, so he could not transfer money into the anonymous account. Ferren had to go to a money hiding spot in the suburbs, take out 100,000 pounds in old bills, and deposit them into the account. He then disguised himself and went to a betting company’s sales point.

To prove whether this world was the original reality, it was not difficult for Ferren. There was a good opportunity, which was to bet on the Euro Championship in England.

As a pseudo-fan who aimed to win the lottery, Ferren had once put in a lot of effort. He remembered the scores of every match in the final stages of the World Cup and Euro Championship since the 1980s, and after returning to reality, these memories were even fresher. They were perfect for testing whether the major events in this world matched those in the original world.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but according to your betting method, the limit is 87,090 pounds!" The saleswoman behind the counter, with a face full of freckles, explained while looking at him as if he were an idiot.

It was because Ferren’s betting slip included the scores of all the matches in the final stages of the Euro Championship. As everyone knew, guessing the results of all matches was already difficult, let alone guessing all the scores at once, which only a fool would do.

"OK, then do it as you say, bet 87,090 pounds." Ferren said in a hoarse, fake voice.

The saleswoman immediately complied, quickly entering the scores of each match on Ferren’s betting slip, then deducting over 80,000 pounds from the anonymous account, and printing out the slip to hand to Ferren.

Ferren glanced at the payout ratio on the betting slip, 38,976, and quickly scanned through the scores of each match, confirming there were no errors, and then left immediately.

The saleswoman, looking at Ferren’s back, muttered, "Wearing a scarf, hat, and sunglasses in the middle of summer, what a fucking idiot, do you think wearing a vest will make people not know you’re an idiot!"

Unfortunately, the sales point was noisy, and Ferren, who was completely ignoring the saleswoman, did not hear her. After leaving the betting sales point, Ferren walked through the streets, discarding the extra clothes he was wearing into different trash bins.

Time passed quickly, and soon it was the day of the Euro Championship opening. In the past few days, Ferren had opened several more anonymous accounts and three stock accounts, planning to go to France to launder some black money after dealing with the detective.

At noon, Ferren arrived at the largest subway station in London, as this was where he and the detective had agreed to meet.

Ferren watched the crowd from behind the information board, even seeing the "detective" from his memory get off the subway, but he did not go to meet him, instead waiting quietly in place.

As Ferren had predicted, when the meeting time at 12:30 had passed by ten minutes, the detective on the platform could no longer bear it, cursing and making gestures to the other end of the platform.

Soon, two typical Nordic men dressed as fans approached the detective. Although they had deliberately changed their walking posture, the sharp-eyed Ferren knew they were killers.

In a flash, Ferren determined that the detective was likely the mole rumored within the organization, as assassins and killers would not work together otherwise.

There were many subcategories under special operations, one of which was "reconnaissance skills," which included subcategories such as drawing defense maps, lip-reading, and image memory. With his eagle-like vision, Ferren quickly understood the conversation between the detective and the two killers through lip-reading.

"Fuck, he’s not here!"

"Then what do we do now? Can you find him?"

"Can’t, no one can find him if Shadow doesn’t show up."

"If we can’t find this remnant, you should know the consequences, right?"

The detective’s eyes flashed with a hint of killing intent and said, "I’ll try my best to find him."

Reading this, Ferren couldn’t help but smile. Based on the assassin "Ferren’s" understanding of the detective, this guy had definitely decided to kill the two Nordic men.

Ferren knew that a good show was about to begin!

Sure enough, the detective led the two Nordic men out of the subway station and began to stroll around the city. In reality, he was not just strolling but looking for a place to make his move.

Ferren, with his high skills and boldness, followed the three men to a secluded alley.

At this moment, the detective was still deceiving the two Nordic killers, "There’s a hidden attic in the alley, one of Shadow’s hideouts. Should we go straight in or...?"

The two Nordic killers exchanged glances, and one of them interrupted, "You go check first, and signal if he’s there."

The detective nodded indifferently and disappeared into the darkness.

After waiting quietly for seven or eight minutes, the two Nordic killers at the alley entrance heard the detective’s signal. They looked at each other and both entered the alley. Ferren, hiding in the corner, waited for another ten seconds, then climbed up the low building beside the alley and moved in.

When Ferren saw the backs of the two Nordic killers, the detective suddenly flashed out, his hands gleaming with cold light, slicing towards their necks.

Ferren recognized the cold light from his predecessor’s memory—it should be blades between the fingers. However, he thought to himself, "Stupid!"

Sure enough, the two Nordic killers, who looked bulky, seemed to have a premonition and turned their heads, dodging the fatal blow. At the same time, their hands, also gleaming with cold light, swept backward. If they had not entered the country through official channels, the cold light would have been gunfire.

Ferren, hiding nearby, watched the "mutual slaughter" with some amusement. However, while he was amused, his brain, with an IQ of over 220 (the original assassin Ferren’s intelligence plus 100), was rapidly calculating how to make all three of them die together.

"Hmph, so you’ve known all along!"

"Of course! This time, we came to England to kill Shadow and then you!"

"Then you won’t leave this alley alive!"

"That’s exactly what I was going to say."

As the blades clashed, the three of them exchanged some trash talk.

After a few rounds, as the detective began to gain the upper hand against the two, Ferren saw his chance. He used his fingers, wrapped in tape, to pick up a small stone and flicked it towards the detective’s position.

"Hiss..." The detective’s foot landed, and he gasped, losing his balance. In normal circumstances, this would not be a big deal, but at this moment, it was fatal.

"Puff!" "Puff!"

The daggers of the two Nordic men plunged into the detective’s body, viciously slicing and stirring.

The detective, despite the fatal blows, fought back fiercely, swinging his arms and cutting deep wounds on the sides of the two men’s necks as they tore his insides apart, muttering, "Shadow, fuck you..."

Ferren, hidden in the dark, read this and shrugged, watching the three of them fall to the ground and die, then quietly left.

(①: In 1997, the central bank officially issued the "Notice on Stopping the Handling of Unnamed Etiquette Deposit Certificates and Unnamed Stored Value Cards." However, this service is still available in foreign banks.)

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