Russell: "......"

......

Twenty minutes later, the travel-worn Cross arrived at the bar according to the address given by Russell. The two grown men each held a glass of ice water, both wearing speechless expressions.

Cross: "......"

Russell: "......"

Cross's appearance matched his voice—unkempt stubble giving him a slightly disheveled look, dressed in a gray denim jacket, nothing particularly remarkable about him. Yet this melancholic middle-aged man was the world's top assassin; no one had ever escaped his hits.

Cross felt awkward. Earlier, he had sworn he would find Russell, but ended up only finding an empty pickup truck. If Russell hadn't given him the bar's address, he'd still be wandering the streets.

Soon, Cross brushed off the awkwardness. As a top assassin, his... ahem, psychological fortitude was top-notch. He put on the smile of an old friend and took the initiative to chat with Russell.

"This should be our first official meeting. Let me introduce myself—I'm Cross, you can call me that."

"Russell!"

Cross raised an eyebrow. "Russell, that name sounds like a basketball player—the Celtics' superstar center."

"You mean the Lord of the Rings? I thought you'd mention that Ninja Turtle!"

Cross asked in confusion, "Ninja Turtle... who's that?"

Russell was speechless. The world he was in was the movie universe of [Assassins' League/Wanted], and the current timeline was the early 2000s. In this world, the Ninja Turtle was still a rookie, hadn't racked up any triple-double MVPs yet, so probably no one knew who he was.

Russell once again felt grateful for his mastery of English. Otherwise, with his 'Yin Chuisi Ting, Hao Si Pitou, Yikes Pierun Si, Si Bai Shou'-level English, there was no way he could converse so smoothly with Cross.

After some awkward small talk, Cross steered the conversation to the main topic: "I saw your fight on the rooftop. It was impressive—no ordinary person could do what you did... You have real talent!"

Russell picked up the thread. "What kind of talent?"

"The talent to become a top assassin!"

Russell: "......"

"Aren't you curious why bullets can curve, or why humans can be strong enough to leap across buildings?" Seeing Russell remain silent, Cross continued.

Because of the screenwriter and director!

Russell answered in his heart, but on his face he played along, showing a puzzled look: "Why?"

Cross smiled lightly. The fish had taken the bait.

"It's a technique—a method to unlock human potential. With rigorous training, you can do it too."

Russell pretended to ponder, frowning deeply. "It sounds easy, but I've never seen anyone like that before. In fact, I've never even heard of it!"

"That's normal. Even a genius needs ten years to make a bullet curve, and twenty years to fully master that kind of skill."

Russell spread his hands. "Twenty years... that's an outrageous number. If it were me, I'd have no chance—I couldn't stick with it that long."

Cross chuckled, giving a meaningful smile. "No, a genius needs twenty years, but you're different. You're a natural-born killer!"

Russell: "......"

Which of your eyes sees me as a natural-born killer? Say one more word of nonsense and I'll elbow you!

Cross took a sip of ice water and explained, "On the rooftop, at your most dangerous moment, didn't you feel like you entered a strange state? Your heartbeat racing, the flow of air crystal clear, your opponent moving in slow motion before your eyes... You don't need to deny it—I saw it clearly. In the final moment, you pulled it off."

Russell: "......"

You must have misunderstood something.

Cross put down his ice water and lowered his voice: "Your heart rate exceeded 400 beats per minute, flooding your blood with adrenaline. You can observe and react faster than ordinary people. This is an innate talent—only a handful of people in the world have it, and they're all top assassins. Does that make sense?"

Russell nodded. He more or less understood what Cross meant: top assassins don't have blood in their veins, but adrenaline!

"If I'm not mistaken..." At this, Cross paused, glanced at Russell, and continued, "One of your parents must be a top assassin. That's where your talent comes from."

Russell was left speechless. His parents were indeed assassins, but sorry—their daily life was playing mahjong and collecting rent, nowhere near 'top' level.

"Looks like I guessed right!"

No, that's all in your imagination!

Chapter 8: Triggering a World Mission

Russell now had a clear understanding of what it meant to be a top assassin. Honestly, it was a bit ridiculous. Cross's wild imagination was beyond words—he could totally... write web novels.

Yeah, that's definitely a certain web novel site vibe!

For the sake of his own safety, Russell decided that from now on, when reading novels, he'd talk less and vote more, and tip a few dozen alliance leaders every now and then—just in case someone sniped him from ten kilometers away one day.