Night.
High walls, gray tiles, and a narrow stone-paved alley.
Over a dozen armored soldiers stood at both ends of the alley, their blades drawn, trapping Chen Ji and the spy in the middle.
Chen Ji flexed his wrists and removed the cloth gag from his mouth.
One of the soldiers glanced down at the uneven stone path, where a freshly severed rope lay, its cut clean and precise.
The soldier’s expression shifted.
He slowly raised his blade, eyeing Chen Ji with a mix of caution and seriousness.
His earlier strike, meant to kill, had inadvertently saved someone.
The blade had cut the rope perfectly, leaving Chen Ji unharmed.
The moment had been fleeting, and while others might not have noticed, he knew exactly where his blade had been aimed.
Coincidence?
Impossible.
He tilted his blade toward Chen Ji and muttered to his comrades, “There’s an expert here.”
Then he added, “And whoever tied him up must be even more skilled!”
The soldiers began to close in.
The spy tried several times to break through but failed.
He suddenly realized that these armored guards seemed to be targeting him specifically, each strike aimed with deadly precision.
The soldiers pressed forward like a collapsing mountain, shrinking the space for the spy and Chen Ji to maneuver.