Volume One: Alchemy

------------

Chapter One: The Dark Sorcerer

Night had deepened.

Moonlight quietly spilled over the flat road, as if it were a broad avenue leading to heaven. On both sides of the road stretched endless rice fields, with the occasional croak of frogs making the night seem even more silent.

A red sedan approached from afar and stopped by the roadside. Two men in black suits got out, turned toward the rice fields, took out their things, and soon the sound of urination could be heard.

Their boss was called Logan Clark, and the second-in-command was Ethan Clark; they had several hundred men under them and were somewhat notorious in S City.

"Boss, that chick is really something. Isn't it a bit of a waste to deal with her like this?" Ethan Clark couldn't help but feel restless at the thought of the beautiful woman tied up in the car. He'd seen plenty of women, but never one so stunning. Her delicate face looked as if it could be pinched to release water. And she was the captain of the city's criminal police squad, a black belt in Taekwondo. If they hadn't knocked her out when she wasn't paying attention, their whole crew wouldn't have been able to handle her. But a woman like that would be a thrill to play with.

"Relax, you'll get your fill soon enough—just don't go soft when the time comes. That chick's fists and kicks are no joke; even dozens of our guys couldn't handle her. I wonder if she's just as fierce in bed." Logan Clark showed a lecherous grin.

"Bro, you're giving her too much credit. Just watch me take her down in a bit." Ethan Clark gave his hardened member a shake and tucked it back in. The two of them chatted idly.

William Carter regained consciousness and found herself curled up in the back seat of the car, while the two men chatted outside. She regretted her impulsiveness. She struggled a little, but the ropes were too tight to break free, and the back of her head still throbbed with pain. If it hadn't been for that blow to the back of her head, she wouldn't have been afraid of those dozens of thugs. If she could have held out a bit longer, Old Huang and the others would have arrived.

William Carter shifted her body; the space in the car was too cramped for any large movements. The two men's voices drew closer, so she quickly stopped moving. By the moonlight outside, she could clearly see two tall figures approaching, about to open the car door.

A flash of white light—probably the moonlight reflecting off a sharp weapon. William Carter only saw a blur, and then two heads, trailing blood, flew up into the air. William Carter's mouth fell open as she stared in shock at the scene before her. A wave of intense fear swept over her, making her hands and feet icy cold and beads of cold sweat break out on her forehead. The situation was so bizarre that William Carter didn't dare move a muscle. Her military academy training helped her suppress her fear; anyone else would have fainted from fright.

A black figure walked up to the car door and opened it—a tall man. A glint of light flashed, and the bandages on William Carter's hands were sliced in two. As her hands were freed, she felt a wave of relief; with her hands free, she wasn't afraid of anyone.

"You're safe now." The speaker was a man, his voice icy cold, making William Carter shiver. The man opened the front door and sat in the driver's seat.

William Carter felt her head slam hard against the car door, her heart leaping into her throat as if she were falling from the sky. The man had spun the car around 180 degrees and was speeding toward S City.

The car was unbelievably fast. Although speeding was nothing new to William Carter, she had never experienced such velocity. The sedan seemed to be flying off the ground; William Carter wondered if it might actually take off. To keep herself from being thrown around, she gripped the door handle tightly and didn't dare let go.

What had taken two hours on the way there, he covered in less than half an hour!

"Get out." The man opened the car door. William Carter tumbled out, collapsed on the ground, and vomited uncontrollably, her legs too weak to stand. She looked up and saw the man—about 1.75 meters tall, not particularly burly, dressed in black cloth clothes that revealed bulging muscles beneath. He wore sunglasses, but she could vaguely make out his sharply defined features.

"Did my father send you?"

"No."

"Then who are you?" William Carter was puzzled by his answer. The man's killing was so swift and decisive—she'd never seen anyone kill so quickly. She'd thought he was one of her father's special forces men.

"You don't need to know." The man was sparing with words, his tone icy and unapproachable. "I killed two people. Don't you want to arrest me?"

"They deserved to die," William Carter said through gritted teeth, wishing she could tear them apart herself.

The man was a bit surprised. "Just because they offended you?"

"No. Even their deaths can't repay what they owe." William Carter recalled the faces of the girls who had been violated by Logan Clark and Ethan Clark, and a wave of inexplicable sorrow welled up in her heart. Such beautiful youth, withered in early spring. Letting such scum live in this world was a tragedy for society.