Inside the small, grimy warehouse, Leander's Golden Eyes of Truth showed him seven burly figures—now reduced to six standing, as one lay inert—all armed with pistols. The scene was far more serious than a simple mugging. The man on the ground, however, was clearly still alive, but his life force was frighteningly weak.
What is the context here? Leander frowned. A failed kidnapping? A double-cross? Is the person on the ground Kai, and the others are robbers who jumped him?
Leander's mind, fueled by his 19 Spirit points, raced through scenarios. He hesitated. Exposing his powers here would end his peaceful cultivation life.
He decided to test the waters first, picking up his phone. "Kai, you're not actually in the warehouse, are you?"
He watched through the wall as one of the burly men, his face intense and eyes fixed on the door, skillfully pulled out a phone from his pocket, unlocked it, and typed a response.
'Kay': "Leo, we had an agreement. You said even if we never met, you'd keep making my models, right?"
Seeing the reply, Leander's face settled into cold disappointment. The man typing was clearly not injured, and the tone was a manipulative setup.
"Kai, you lied to me. You are in there, and you brought guns! What is your purpose?"
Leander could see Kai, gun aimed squarely at the door, with three men positioned for an immediate ambush. His eyes instantly turned glacial.
End of games.
A small, thin piece of metal—a seamless, featureless silver mask—melted off the metal rods hidden in his backpack and gently adhered to his face, instantly muffling and distorting his voice.
He tossed his schoolbag onto the ground and strode toward the warehouse door, his small frame radiating an unshakeable confidence.
Inside, one of the henchmen shifted nervously. "Brother Kai, I have a seriously bad feeling. What if this kid brought backup?"
"Kill everyone else! I only want Leo!" Kai hissed, his eyes bloodshot. "I need the models only he can make, and absolutely no one gets in my way!"
"But what if he resists?"
Kai's voice was low, trembling with obsessive rage. "What I want, I get. Whether he likes it or not, he's coming with me. Tie him up, drag him back to the ship. I have endless ways to convince him once we're sailing!"
Clang!
The small, heavy iron door slammed violently against the wall, sending a plume of metallic dust billowing into the air. The afternoon sun sliced through the open doorway, casting a long, slender shadow—Leander's shadow—onto the concrete floor.
The two henchmen posted near the entrance, reacting instantly, rushed the shadow. They were big men, over 1.8 meters tall, and they drastically overestimated the shadow's height. They collided awkwardly, crashing down precisely over Leander.
With a thought, a small piece of loose iron on the floor shot up, striking the men's backs with immense force. They were launched backward, tumbling end-over-end until they slammed into a towering steel support beam. They slumped, groaning and clearly unable to rise.
With a gentle, almost silent command, the heavy iron door slammed shut.
Click.
The lock engaged. The warehouse was plunged into dimness, illuminated only by a single flickering fluorescent tube high above.
One man behind, six armed men in front, all surrounding Leander.
As the dust settled, Leander's figure became visible. The silver mask made his small, 1.2-meter frame look even more alien and frail among the mountainous thugs.
He looked directly at the huge, bearded white man at the center. "Kai?"
Kai, confused by the sudden, silent violence, pointed his Uzi at the masked boy. "Who are you? Where is Leo?"
"I am Leo, Kai. What is the meaning of this ambush?" A slightly metallic, distorted voice came from beneath the mask, the underlying youthfulness still perceptible.
Kai burst into manic laughter. "You? You are Leo? The one who makes art out of gold and steel? HAHAHA! You're tiny!" He lowered the Uzi slightly. "Kid, this isn't funny. Where is the real model maker?"
"Kai, you disappoint me. I considered you a potential friend," Leander said, his voice laced with genuine sorrow. "The model in your pocket, the Ace, I made that for you myself last year."
Kai stared at the mask, then down at the cherished figurine in his pocket. His laughter suddenly died, replaced by a dark intensity. "Ha. So you're short, huh? That's why you never wanted to meet me!"
His expression shifted abruptly to pure menace. "TIE HIM UP! NOW!"
The remaining men rushed Leander. He offered no resistance, allowing the ropes to bind him tightly, pulled directly in front of Kai.
Kai grabbed Leander's silver-masked face, his eyes feral. "I don't care if you're Leo or his friend. We're out of time. You will make models for me. And if you don't know how—"
He laughed cruelly, squeezing the boy's face. "I'll melt you down and make you into a model, you little freak!"
"Let's go. Boss Crow already messaged—we're running late!" Kai turned to leave.
A henchman noticed the motionless man on the floor. "Brother Kai, that guy is still twitching. Should we take him along?"
Kai looked at the pathetic body of the man he'd struck earlier, pulled a silenced pistol from his waistband, and pointed it. "Let him die. He spoiled my mood." He prepared to pull the trigger.
FZZZTTT.
A tremendous, invisible force seized Kai's arm, twisting it back and upward at several unnatural angles. The bones snapped like dry twigs.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
In the space of two heartbeats, every single one of Kai's remaining six henchmen was shot—cleanly and instantly—through the heart. The deafening silence was broken only by the soft thud of their bodies hitting the concrete. They died with expressions of confusion and betrayal, unable to comprehend why their own boss had suddenly murdered them.
Kai's arm trembled violently. He stared at the six bodies, then down at his contorted wrist. "Wha... why? I didn't fire at them! I didn't!" he shrieked, his voice cracking with shock.
Behind him, two quick flashes of silver light erupted. The ropes binding Leander snapped and fell to the floor.
"It's you! YOU DID THIS!" Kai spun around, pointing the pistol—which he still held despite his broken arm—at Leander's head. His finger locked onto the trigger. "You killed them all!"
Before Kai could fire, the pistol in his hand began to dance. The magazine ejected, the slide recoiled, and the single loaded bullet flew out, striking Kai directly in the forehead.
"You tried to kill me first," Leander said, stepping over the rope fragments. There was a genuine note of regret in his distorted voice. "Kai, I truly regret this. You were my best client." His eyes darkened. "But you crossed the line when you threatened my life and my freedom."
"No, no!" Kai, clutching the bullet wound, stumbled backward. "Leo, I didn't want to kill you! I just wanted to take you to Africa to make a model for me! I never wanted this!"
"A model? You are completely mad, Kai." Leander shook his head in disappointment. He walked past the deranged man toward the wounded figure on the floor, who was feebly moaning.
Leander knelt, gently turning the man over. He saw the massive, sickening wound on his head from Kai's earlier attack. "Hey, buddy. Hang in there. Stay awake!" He took out his phone to call emergency services.
Kai saw his last chance. He yanked a hunting knife from his belt and lunged, stabbing fiercely at the back of Leander's head.
The knife stopped dead inches from the boy's skull, held fast by an unseen force.
Leander turned slowly, his disappointment hardening into lethal resolve. "Who is he? An innocent victim?"
"Let me go and I'll tell you!" Kai dropped the knife, his breathing ragged.
The injured man on the ground let out a weak, dying sound. Leander glanced at him.
In that single moment of distraction, Kai grabbed the exquisite metal model from his pocket and hurled it with the last of his strength at Leander.
The action sealed his fate. Leander stared at Kai, his eyes flashing with brilliant, deadly golden light.
The Golden Eyes of Truth focused. The light struck Kai.
The clothes, the skin, the underlying flesh—all began to turn into dense, solid metal, starting at his chest and racing outward.
"Since you love models so much, then stay with them forever."
Five seconds later, a gleaming, intricate metal statue stood rooted in the center of the warehouse. The figure was frozen in a posture of desperate fear, holding aloft the small metal model that was now permanently fused to its hand. A look of sheer, absolute terror was immortalized on the exquisitely crafted metallic face.
Leander knelt back beside the injured man, who was gasping for air. "Hey, who are you? Tell me what happened!"
The man's lips moved, and a few faint, gurgling syllables emerged.
"What did you say? Speak clearly!" Leander leaned down urgently.
The man's eyes locked onto Leander's, his last words choked out with agonizing effort: "Crowe... Ulysses... Crowe..." His head slumped, and he breathed his last.
Leander stared at the now-dead man, the name Ulysses Crow echoing in the lethal silence of the warehouse. His simple model business had just led him directly into the path of one of the world's most notorious arms dealers and pirate kings.