Chapter Fifty-One: The Sniper

A gunshot rang out on the morning beach, echoing crisply. A bottle shattered in response. The boy was clearly gifted. After just two mornings of lessons, Qiu Fengyu had already taught him to handle a firearm with remarkable skill—something that astonished even Qiu himself. Perhaps hatred truly could transform a person completely.

The boy puffed out his cheeks, silent and determined, and in a single breath, shattered all the bottles lined up before him. Within the body of this fourteen- or fifteen-year-old pulsed a startling energy.

April watched from the side, smiling as she observed the boy’s gradual transformation—from seething with hatred to the icy composure he possessed now. Only days before, she could still see the furious blaze in his eyes, but now there was only calmness, all thanks to Qiu Fengyu’s guidance.

“Qiu, Tim, breakfast time.”

April had taken on the role of cook these past days, and she was pleased with it, feeling she had rescued this young boy and even softened the usually aloof Qiu Fengyu, making him more warmhearted—an achievement she was quite proud of.

“You’re a good man. Look at this child—he’s full of spirit!”

“It’s hatred. And... a hundred thousand dollars.” Qiu Fengyu glanced at April. “Don’t forget your terms. I haven’t.”

“All right, I know. But… this isn’t about the money,” April insisted, still hoping to prove that Qiu Fengyu had become truly compassionate under her influence.

“It is about the money, sweetheart. After this job, you go your way, I’ll go mine.” With that, Qiu Fengyu strode into the house. The boy was already seated at the table; no matter what lay before him, he devoured it ravenously—intensive training demanded it.

After breakfast, Qiu Fengyu would scout the area, something he did every day to ensure no one came to disturb them. Then he would return to put the boy through his paces.

With a thud, the boy was thrown to the ground—this time further than before, sliding across the sand for quite a distance.

“Are you a little girl? Get up! I’ve taught you the technique—forgotten already? Then take your beating. Think you can get revenge with that scrawny frame? Give up and go back to your Arab country, search the desert for your treasures, and let those bastards kill you, leave your corpse in the wild, your eyes picked out by vultures…”

Qiu Fengyu’s biting words relentlessly taunted the boy, poking at his nerves. The boy, infuriated, charged at Qiu Fengyu with a wild scream. The result was the same: he was mercilessly bested, thrown down again and again, rising each time like an indestructible cockroach. The afternoons were dedicated to physical training, forging the boy’s body into something strong.

April attempted several times to stop Qiu Fengyu’s “abuse,” but each time he glared her down, reminding her that this was all due to her actions. She could only defer to his arrangements.

Time passed swiftly—over thirty days had gone by. In that span, the boy had grown taller, now standing at nearly one meter seventy-three, and looked more a man than a boy—his face still youthful, but muscles beginning to show where once he had been so thin.

His marksmanship was most impressive, convincing Qiu Fengyu that true talent did exist in this world. The boy worked hard, and, combined with his innate gifts, he could now hit moving targets with precision in a remarkably short time. With some tactical training, Qiu Fengyu imagined that once the boy grew up, there was no telling what kind of monster he might become. And what if a little monster joined forces with an old one—would they not be an unstoppable force?

Qiu Fengyu had never expected that a moment of unconscious kindness would lead to the seamless partnership that would one day become the nightmare of many.

One morning, Qiu Fengyu didn’t put Tim O'D to training. He let the boy find a quiet corner for his own practice, while he sat in the living room, facing April, whose expression was equally grave.

“Anthony called,” Qiu Fengyu said, looking at her. “He’ll come for you tomorrow. I won’t give him the address until then. But… this also means my job is done.”

“One million dollars. I know what you’re going to say.” April’s expression dimmed. “Of course… I don’t have that much. It’s all from Jenny’s family.”

“No, it’s one million and one hundred thousand,” Qiu Fengyu corrected, “Don’t forget your hundred thousand.”

“I won’t, damn you. That’s all you care about!” April snapped.

Without so much as a glance, Qiu Fengyu poured himself a drink. “That’s exactly why I took this job.”

A heavy silence fell.

Anthony, for his part, had kept his word. He’d contacted Qiu Fengyu ten days after their escape, then kept silent. Now, with a sudden call, the timing fit—April’s court date was near.

The location had been well chosen; no one had disturbed them. Qiu Fengyu didn’t want anything to go wrong on this final day.

Around noon the next day, Qiu Fengyu spotted a car on the roadside through his binoculars and received Anthony’s call. Ever cautious, he didn’t let April leave. Instead, he went ahead to check the route himself.

At Qiu Fengyu’s direction, Anthony stopped the car by the road, glancing about and chain-smoking.

“Hey, long time no see, Anthony. I thought you were dead, you haven’t contacted me in ages,” a voice called from behind. Anthony instinctively turned, ready to draw his gun, only to see Qiu Fengyu.

“You’d already be dead, if I were your enemy.”

“But… luckily, I’m your friend.” Anthony grinned, lowering his hand from his gun.

“Alone?”

“Isn’t that enough? If I brought someone else, it’d mean I’d surrendered. So… you know.” Anthony shrugged with a smile. “I want to see April.”

“Follow me,” Qiu Fengyu said with a tilt of his head.

Anthony trailed Qiu Fengyu through a patch of woods, where a young woman stood waiting—it could only be April.

“Ready for court?” Qiu Fengyu smiled at Anthony. “You sure you can keep her safe?”

“Of course.” Anthony smiled. “You have to trust me.”

“I do.” Qiu Fengyu waved April over.

April was delighted to see Anthony. She approached him with a light step; her trust in him had only fully developed after the ambush, when Anthony had shielded her from a bullet.

“April—” Anthony called out cheerfully, waving.

“Look out!” Qiu Fengyu suddenly shouted.

A gunshot rang out. As Anthony turned, he dove forward, tumbling down the slope. April screamed in fright, flattening herself on the ground, not daring to move.

Qiu Fengyu didn’t dare move either—he knew he was being targeted. That sidestep from Anthony had shielded April once more; Anthony had taken the bullet for her.

A figure emerged from roughly two hundred yards away, slowly approaching Qiu Fengyu. Qiu knew at once this was an elite sniper—any move could mean instant death.

“Eight hundred yards. Be patient, be patient,” Qiu Fengyu muttered, clutching only a handgun.

April was in tears, biting her lip to keep from sobbing.

“Seven hundred yards… seven-fifty… a little closer… be patient…”

“Six-fifty… five-fifty…” He silently calculated the distance, relying on experience.

“Now!”

A gunshot cracked. At the very moment Qiu Fengyu whispered those words, a shot rang out from the woods in front of the house. The sniper suddenly dropped to his knees, pitching forward onto the ground.

Qiu Fengyu gave a thumbs-up toward the woods, and saw a pile of leaves scatter, revealing a face—Tim O'D. Five hundred yards, a 5.56mm rifle, a perfect shot.