12dz Chapter 2130 Empty Box
Chapter 2130 Empty Box
"Well? Did you bring everything?" The man in the black cloak cut straight to the point without beating around the bush.
He could sense that something was wrong with Wu Kun, and his suspicions deepened.
Wu Kun, who is usually calm and composed, seemed unusually agitated today, and his eyes were darting around as if he had something on his mind.
Wu Kun paused for a moment, his smile froze for a second, then returned to normal, only his voice was lower: "I brought it."
He paused, then added, "The person is also in the car."
Half of the weight was lifted from the black-cloaked figure. He nodded, turned, and walked towards the carriage.
The items are important, but the people on the bus are also crucial.
If anything unexpected happens along the way, these two people will be his talismans.
Wu Kun followed behind, his steps hesitant, falling half a step behind the man in the black cloak.
The two had only taken three steps when the man in the black cloak suddenly stopped and turned around abruptly.
Caught off guard, Wu Kun stumbled and his smile froze before he could even wipe it off.
He subconsciously lowered his head, his pupils suddenly contracting.
A dagger, its blade sharp, was now completely embedded in his abdomen.
Fresh blood seeped out from the slit of the dagger, quickly soaking his dark blue silk jacket and spreading a dark red stain.
"You..." Wu Kun's lips moved, but his voice was so weak that it was almost inaudible.
He looked up, his eyes filled with shock, confusion, and a hint of despair.
The man in the black cloak looked at him, his face expressionless, his voice still eerily calm: "From the very beginning, I never intended for you to live."
Wu Kun's eyes widened even more, and a trace of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
He tried to say something, but only managed a muffled groan before swaying and falling to the side.
With a "thud," Wu Kun fell to the ground, his eyes still wide open. Blood gushed from his abdomen, spreading across the ground and mixing with the soil, emitting a faint smell of blood.
The man in the black cloak slowly drew his dagger, drops of blood dripping down the blade.
He raised his hand and used the hem of his cloak to wipe the blood off the dagger, his movements calm and unhurried.
His four men also appeared and surrounded him, their eyes fixed on Wu Kun's corpse without the slightest surprise.
The man in the black cloak looked up at the carriage and walked towards it: "Drag the corpses away and clean them up."
"Yes."
The man in the black cloak opened the carriage door and saw Huo Changhe and Yan Ruyu inside. He breathed a sigh of relief. There were several boxes beside them, containing the things he wanted.
The black cloak's tight shoulders and back slowly relaxed. He showed no intention of getting into the carriage to check, but instead looked at the camphor wood chests behind the carriage.
The aroma of camphor wood wafted out. The man in the black cloak stepped forward and tapped the surface of the box with his fingertips. The wood was hard and felt heavy.
He pressed one hand against the lid of the box and slowly lifted it—
It was completely empty inside, except for a layer of moisture-proof oil paper; there wasn't a single thing inside.
The man in the black cloak paused, his composure shattered instantly.
He stared at the empty box for a moment, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. He reached inside and touched it, the oil paper crumpled under his fingertips, but there was still nothing there.
"What's going on?" He didn't turn around, his voice already carrying a hint of coldness.
The man in the black cloak didn't speak, but straightened up and pushed the empty box off the driveway.
The box made a dull thud when it hit the ground, rolled a few times before stopping, and the oil paper slipped out and was blown away by the wind.
He looked at another box, reached out to pull it, and his heart sank as soon as his fingertips touched the handle.
This box looks the same size as the previous one, but it's ridiculously light, as if it's filled with nothing but air.
The box was opened, but it was still empty. The oil paper was neatly laid out, but there was nothing of any substance inside.
One, two, three... five camphor wood chests were opened in succession, each one empty except for a thin layer of oiled paper at the bottom, as if mocking his arduous journey.
The wind made his cloak flutter loudly, and it also made the coldness in his eyes grow heavier.
He turned around abruptly and strode to a pile of dry grass not far away, where Wu Kun's body lay.
Wu Kun's eyes were wide open, his clothes were soaked with blood, and a dark stain had formed on the ground, emitting a pungent, fishy smell.
The man in the black cloak raised his foot and kicked Wu Kun hard in the side, causing the corpse to sway and make a dull thud.
"Damn it, they dared to trick me!" he gritted his teeth and cursed, "Where did the stuff go? Where did they hide it!"
Only the wind responded to him.
Wu Kun is completely dead.
The man in the black cloak kicked twice more, stopping only when his ankles ached, his chest heaving violently.
He stood there, hands on his hips, his gaze sweeping over the empty box before turning to the dark forest in the distance.
The horse farm has been lost, and the supplies needed to complete the mission have also disappeared. If he goes back to report, his master will never forgive him; if he doesn't go back, he will inevitably face death sooner or later.
Thinking of this, he raised his hand and punched the carriage.
A loud "bang" came from the carriage, causing the curtains to sway slightly.
He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, the rage from before was gone, replaced by a fierce determination.
"Tie those two men in the car up tight," he said in a deep voice, his gaze sweeping over his two men. "Back to the horse farm!"
Even though the horse farm had fallen, he still had to go back and investigate.
Those items could not have simply vanished into thin air. Since Wu Kun dared to take empty boxes with him, he must have hidden them near the horse farm.
Moreover, having these two people on hand gives us more leverage in negotiations, even if we can't find anything.
"Yes." The subordinate quickly replied, picked up the hemp rope that had been prepared beforehand, and strode towards the carriage.
The man in the black cloak stood still, watching their retreating figures, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the scabbard at his waist.
He repeatedly considered his options upon returning—how to conduct the search, how to utilize these two bargaining chips, and how to secure a sliver of hope in front of his master.
Time passed slowly, but the expected sounds of binding did not come from the carriage, and even the conversations of the men disappeared.
The man in the black cloak frowned, a surge of annoyance rising within him. While his two henchmen were usually clumsy, they shouldn't have taken this long to tie someone up.
He waited patiently for a while, but still heard no sound, only the "whooshing" sound of the wind passing through the gaps in the carriage, like the wailing of ghosts.
"Are you done yet?" he asked, his voice colder than before.
No one answered.
The man in the black cloak furrowed his brows even more, and the irritation in his heart was gradually replaced by surprise and doubt.
He slowly turned around, his gaze falling on the carriage. In the moonlight, the figures of his two men stood motionless at the carriage door, as if frozen in place.
Not right.
His hand rested on the dagger at his waist, and he slowly drew it halfway out, the cold blade reflecting the moonlight.
He walked quietly towards the carriage, his cloak sweeping across the withered grass without making a sound.
The wind around him seemed to have stopped, leaving only the sound of his own breathing and the thumping of his heart.
As he got closer to the carriage, he could see his men's postures clearly—both were facing the carriage, their bodies stiff, their faces covered with black cloth and turned inwards, motionless.
There was no binding action, nor any reaction; it was as if it had lost consciousness.
The man in the black cloak paused, a hint of wariness flashing in his eyes.
He gripped the dagger tightly and continued walking forward. When he reached the car door, he followed his subordinate's gaze into the carriage—that one look made his blood freeze instantly.