The football game was unbelievably hot, but the heat didn't come from the sun—it came from hormones. As one muscular football player after another entered the field, ear-splitting cheers and screams erupted from the stands.
Strange furrowed his brow, tilting his head to block one ear, obviously finding it noisy, while Shiller managed to sit steadily in his original spot with his legs crossed, holding a newspaper.
Lan from the back row tossed him a bag of chips and leaned over his shoulder to ask, "What are you looking at? It's not the dull economic section, is it?"
"No, the social news. Manhattan hasn't been too peaceful lately." Shiller shook his head, seeming worried, "You all should avoid going out at night recently. I heard there's a serial killer on the loose."
Renee immediately scoffed and pursed her lips, yet quickly showed an interested expression, saying, "How do you think that kind of serial killer targeting women manages it? I bet they must be handsome; otherwise, how could so many women fall for them?"
"Makes some sense." Shiller nodded, "The police's conclusion in the newspaper also said there were no signs of stalking or surveillance, which suggests the person might not be a perverted stalker."
"Then you can't blame others." Renee shrugged, "They are too unguarded. They can't move on when they see a handsome guy, not realizing that if they just walked a bit further, there are plenty of good-looking guys at school."
Shiller pursed his lips and smiled, turned to look at her, and said, "Like Captain Alex? Have you two made it official?"
"Hmph, he's definitely not it, too far from it," Renee turned her eyes away, just in time to see Strange staring unwaveringly at Shiller's profile.
Renee swapped places with the girl beside her and moved next to Strange, but Strange obviously didn't feel as comfortable, his hairs standing on end in an instant.
Now it was Shiller's turn to stare at Strange, his face full of schadenfreude.
Not until Strange glared back fiercely did Shiller redirect his attention back to the newspaper in his hands. The second page featured news of a murder case, with a black bar across the eyes of the female victim's photograph, but Shiller remembered the soft touch of those eyeballs.
The game on the field was still intense. After a goal, the Columbia University football team's captain roared in cheer, with almost all spectators standing up—except for Shiller and Strange.
Shiller was closely reading the news report on the murder case, while Strange was uncomfortable due to the proximity of his crush. Both failed to notice how conspicuous they were amidst a crowd cheering on its feet, while at that moment, the face under the helmet of a large player waving his arms turned very ugly.
The game ended, Columbia University's home team won, and all spectators crowded around the players heading towards the backstage. Shiller turned to head outside for a smoke and bumped into a tall figure.
"Sorry." Shiller said instinctively, but the next second he was grabbed by the collar and pinned against the wall. Shiller lifted his eyelids and then looked up, sure enough, seeing the face of the football team's captain, Alex.
"Congratulations on the victory, Captain." Shiller turned his head aside and stuck the cigarette that was in his hand into his mouth.
"You know you fucking shouldn't be here," Alex said. "What did that bitch Renee tell you?"
Shiller took a deep drag on his cigarette, smoke swirling around his nose and mouth, his eyes drooping at the corners under his eyebrow arch. When his eyes glanced up, showing a wide expanse of white, they emitted a strange evil. He looked at Alex and said, "I'm not Renee's new favorite, but you'll probably meet him soon enough."
"You better..."
Just as he spoke, there was a commotion around the corner, as if a group of people had run over. Alex let go of his hold, and sure enough, the cheerleaders rushed over, "Alex, what are you doing here? We've been looking all over for you! Coach is calling for you, and don't be late for the party in half an hour."
"Oh, Shiller, you're here too? Are you going straight to the party venue, or what? Should we have someone guide you there?"
"No need, I'll make my own way," Shiller said with a gentle smile, causing the girls to immediately squeal and, pushing and shoving, crowded their way back.
Shiller went to the restroom and straightened his collar in the mirror. He stood in front of the wash basin when suddenly someone walking in bumped into him, nearly knocking his waist against the edge of the basin.
He turned to see an arrogant face, but it was completely unfamiliar and he couldn't remember the name, only identifying the person as a football player from the attire.
"The boss has his eye on you, be careful," the player said.
Shiller smiled, combed his hair back with his hands, gathering the hair at the front as tightly as possible and tying it at the back of his head. The strands of hair that had hung down the sides of his face were all combed into his hair, exposing his side profile and jawline completely.
When his head was lowered, his straight lips and sharp eyebrows looked utterly ruthless, but the moment he raised his head, that indifference and harshness vanished, replaced by an untamed lasciviousness and gentleness.
After lightly patting the front of his clothes, Shiller walked towards the locker room and changed into the prepared suit, a standard black suit with a shiny silver badge pinned on the chest, giving off a hint of youthful spirit.
He headed to the party venue, passing people who were in a rush after changing their clothes, chatting and laughing as they walked in groups, including Strange and Renee. Strange finally wasn't so tense, and they seemed to be enjoying their conversation.
At the entrance to the venue, Shiller saw several football players again; they seemed to be waiting for someone. Shiller paused, then turned and headed for the side door.
Just as he walked past, a familiar-looking girl stood there, clicking her tongue at Shiller and saying, "Alex is looking for trouble with you, watch out."
Shiller lifted the hem of his suit jacket and strode towards the inside, only turning back to say "Thanks, Rebecca," after he had passed the girl.
After weaving through the crowd by the side door, Shiller reached the end of the bar. At this moment, the band in the dance floor wasn't in place yet, but there were already a few people wandering around, with Alex leading the way. He was loudly swearing at the opposing players, calling them pussies and losers, with everyone cheering him on.
Shiller sat at the edge of the bar, one arm resting on the bar top, taking out a piece of rolling paper and rolling a cigarette. He arranged the tobacco with his fingers to the perfect position, unconcerned and precise, as the bartender leaned in and asked, "Want to add a bit of a kick?"
"No need, the alcohol is enough," Shiller declined. A snort of disdain came from behind him. Shiller turned to see Alex shaking off his hand as he walked down from the dance floor, looking at Shiller, he said, "Wimp."
Shiller turned around, leaning his back against the bar, and reached back to place the unfinished cigarette he was rolling on the counter. By this time, Alex had closed in, and everyone around was watching the spectacle.
The bartender was shaking a cocktail shaker up and down, as if cheering for the impending chaos. Shiller half-turned back again, glancing over his shoulder with his eyes.
The bartender raised an eyebrow in confusion, amidst the clamor Shiller's lips moved, as if he was saying something to him, and the bartender leaned forward, curious to hear.
Suddenly, Shiller spun around, smashed his glass directly onto the bartender's head, shattering it, then grabbed his wrist, took the shaker full of liquor from his hand, smoothly turned 180 degrees, and with a loud bang, crashed it onto Alex's cheekbone.
Alex staggered back from the blow. Shiller got up and raised the bar stool, and with a bang, smashed Alex onto the ground, blood streaming from his head as he twisted and tried to get up, only to be brutally hit again.
Bang! Bang bang!
Everyone was stunned by the sudden turn of events, the rugby players who had been standing behind Alex rushed forward. Shiller first swung the bar lamp to his left, knocking down the one closest to him, then hurled the stool to hit the one who was swinging a fist at him.
Dodging a bottle thrown his way, he quickly vaulted over the bar, grabbing the massive liquor shelf and pulling it toward himself.
Crash!
All those crowded in front of the bar toppled over. Shiller walked out the door on the other side of the bar, and the outermost rugby players skirted the chaos, charging towards him.
Suddenly, several strangers burst in through a side door of the bar. Caught off-guard for a moment, Shiller was punched by one of the rugby players, and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
He pushed the man aside and bolted out the back door while the black-clad men who had just squeezed in pursued him through the turbulent crowd at breakneck speed.
Strange, who was on the dance floor with his arm around Renee, hadn't quite grasped the chaos, but he keenly noticed that the black-clad person trailing at the back reached towards his back, where there was a conspicuous bulge, the line of a concealed firearm was visible under his jacket.
Strange's pupils dilated suddenly.
"This Alex really is... what's the matter, Steven? Hey... hey!" Renee called out to Strange's retreating figure.
Strange didn't pause, he quickly moved along the gaps in the walls to the back door Shiller had used, looked outside, where the darkness of night and hazy lights revealed nothing.
Strange was abruptly pulled, turning to see Shiller signaling for silence. His tense body relaxed, and he was promptly dragged by Shiller into the nearby bushes.
Several shadows ran quickly past the front of the trees.
"What's going on? Who's after you? What's with Alex?" Strange asked.
"Obviously, I've gotten myself in trouble," Shiller said, looking down with a tug at the corner of his mouth, his tone utterly devoid of remorse.
"Who's the trouble? Alex?"
"He couldn't even touch the trouble if he tried," Shiller lifted his gaze to look behind the trees, then blurted out, "I killed a man."
Strange's eyes widened.
"Who?"
"A woman... don't rush me," Shiller spoke, "A member of the world's largest criminal organization, and now the rest of them are chasing me."
Strange looked at Shiller as if he were a monster and stepped forward to ask, "Then why wait? Why not run?"
"Isn't that what I'm doing? I'd have shaken them off already if you hadn't shown up," Shiller said.
Strange paused, realizing that by recklessly exiting the door, if Shiller hadn't dragged him here, those who had hurried past would have noticed him by now.
They were certainly not good people; though not a criminal himself, Strange had a basic understanding of firearms. The silencers on the guns they carried were definitely not those of police or law enforcement agents.
"What do we do now?" Strange asked.
"Run."
"Where to...?"
"Run!"