"It doesn't matter what I want," Chen Yu said, his voice calm despite the black gun pointed at him. "Ever since you received the mission yesterday, you didn't plan to let me live."
Facing the handgun, Chen Yu just smiled.
"What a nasty predicting ability..." The man muttered to himself, surprise flickering across his face.
"Killing me is the main reason, sure," Chen Yu continued with a wry smile. "But you must have heard I have some savings, so you figured you'd make some extra cash at the last minute. Am I right?"
"Cut the crap!" the man snapped. "Hurry up and pay up."
He rattled off a foreign bank account number.
He'd learned everything about Chen Yu's supposed powers from his employer.
So what if the guy was a legend?
Bullets didn't discriminate against flesh and blood.
Still, caution gnawed at him.
He'd done his research. Chen Yu, the psychologist-turned-fortune teller, supposedly had limitations.
