Chapter 314: K’s Moment of Performance, the Fifth Laptop Smashed

Bangkok International Airport.

A luxurious international jet bound for the United States sat quietly on the runway.

Inside the plane’s private business class cabin, K placed a laptop on the tray table in front of him. Using a specialized web crawler script, he began extracting relevant information.

At first, everything appeared normal. Nothing unusual or noteworthy came up.

But less than a minute later, as the script looped into its next cycle, a flood of critical information and images suddenly popped up on the screen.

K, who had just been about to close the laptop and settle in for the long flight, froze.

Because what the script had just pulled in left his mind completely blank. A wave of unease and dread surged through him—an emotion he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

It had been years since he’d experienced anything like this.

Ever since he left the Poker Organization and returned to the Dragon Country to establish the Drug trafficKing organization, no matter what kind of thorny problems he faced, K had never once felt fear. Let alone panic.

Even when the entire Drug trafficKing organization had been dismantled by the police, K had only felt a touch of nervousness. Panic had never been in the equation.

But now, that emotion—one that only weaklings should feel—was clearly written all over his face.

Staring at the tweets and images the script had captured, his pupils contracted, his eyes trembling in disbelief.

The tweets read:

[Thank God I get to see the sun tomorrow.]

[Holy shit, there was a shooting at the Lingling Circus. First time I’ve ever felt this close to death.]

[I’m still shaking. I was right there in the audience when a Black guy suddenly jumped on stage and opened fire.]

[Luckily, not too many people were hurt. The police arrived quickly and shot the guy dead with two bullets.]

[Someone did get shot in the arm though. I didn’t dare get too close, but they were taken to the hospital.]

[Here’s the video. I was originally recording the magic show, but ended up capturing this once-in-a-lifetime shooting instead. Not sure if I should call that lucky or unlucky.]

…

Reading the tweets, K felt a tightness in his throat. His fingers trembled slightly as he clicked on the video.

The footage started off normal. After a few seconds, the magician invited an audience member on stage to assist with the performance.

K clearly saw Gray Wolf—who had been searching for Ghost inside the circus hall—get invited onstage due to his distinctive skin color and noticeable position.

Gray Wolf didn’t refuse. He stepped onto the stage but didn’t follow the magician’s instructions. Instead, he began scanning the area on his own.

K instantly deduced what was happening: Gray Wolf must have failed to spot Ghost from the audience and had moved to center stage for a better vantage point.

Just as K was thinking this, the Gray Wolf in the video suddenly froze, as if he had spotted something. His eyes turned cold and murderous. He pulled out a loaded handgun from his coat and emptied the clip in one direction.

At the same time, the phone camera capturing the footage began shaking violently. Screams and shouts erupted from the crowd.

It was obvious.

The sudden gunfire had thrown the entire audience into chaos. No one could understand why a shooting—something that usually happened only in the “free” United States—was now unfolding in a circus packed with Dragon Country citizens.

After a few seconds of chaotic footage, the video abruptly ended.

K clenched his trembling fists. Although the tweets had already revealed the outcome, not seeing it with his own eyes left him clinging to a sliver of hope.

If… if Ghost had been hit in a vital spot, even if he was rushed to the hospital immediately, would he still have had the chance to speak?

Grasping at that faint hope, K scoured the other photos from the scene, searching for any sign of Ghost’s condition.

After a couple of seconds, K suddenly noticed a set of images posted by a bystander.

These photos were all of the police. The accompanying tweet praised their swift response and how quickly they had resolved the shooting.

The first photo showed Su Ming holding a police-issued handgun, his sharp gaze locked onto the stage. In the background, Gray Wolf lay on the stage, shot in the chest.

The second photo showed Su Ming in the middle of the audience, his lips slightly parted as if issuing cold commands.

The third photo included not just Su Ming, but also Lin Tian, Chen Sheng, and other police station officials. Off to the side was Ghost, raising both hands in surrender.

From this photo, K could clearly see that Ghost had no visible gunshot wounds to his chest or abdomen. Only his right arm was soaked in blood—clearly the spot where Gray Wolf had hit him.

K continued flipping through more photos of Ghost.

Without exception, every image showed Ghost with only an arm injury. Nothing life-threatening. His face was filled with a pleading, submissive expression—pure cowardice.

It was obvious he had already made up his mind. In a situation where escape was impossible, he would use whatever secrets he knew to bargain for a better outcome.

At that thought, a surge of rage welled up inside K. He couldn’t believe he had fallen so low that he couldn’t even take care of a worthless little rat like Ghost.

“FUCK!”

K couldn’t hold back a furious snarl. Then he suddenly clenched his fist and slammed it down hard on the laptop in front of him.

“BANG!!!”

Sparks burst from the laptop in an instant. The fragile screen and keyboard shattered, sending shards flying in every direction.

That single, full-force blow.

K’s right pinky was sliced open by a sharp fragment, and blood dripped steadily from the wound.

The sudden crash drew the attention of a nearby flight attendant. She quickly stepped into the business class cabin and saw the shattered laptop and the blood trickling from K’s hand.

She gasped in alarm and hurriedly asked,

“Mr. Zhao,

What happened? I’ll call someone to clean this up right away and help you with your injury.”

K turned his head slightly, eyes landing on the flight attendant who had just entered.

His cold, sharp gaze burned with fury, and the intensity of it made her instinctively take two steps back.

She couldn’t believe it—just before boarding, Mr. Zhao had been so polite and refined, even promising to write her a commendation letter. How had he suddenly become like this?

Was it a work issue? Or was he dissatisfied with their in-flight service?

Seeing her standing there, K forced himself to rein in his emotions. He exhaled heavily, face blank, and gestured curtly.

“No need to deal with it.”

“The plane’s about to take off. It’s nothing serious.”

“I’m not in the mood right now. Don’t disturb me later. And forget about the red wine I requested earlier.”

With that, he waved her off without hesitation, signaling her to leave him alone.

The flight attendant gave a slight bow, her expression a mix of awkwardness and concern as she slowly backed out. Inwardly, she worried—would this end with a formal complaint from Mr. Zhao once the flight landed?

After she left, K leaned back and stared up at the cabin ceiling, as if trying to make sense of it all. He couldn’t understand how the Professor—always so omnipotent—had failed this time.

Could Su Ming really be that terrifying?

Had he truly kicked a steel plate this time, provoking someone he never should have crossed?

He sat in silence for several seconds.

Then his gaze dropped to the broken laptop on the tray table, a tangled mess of wires and shards. His thoughts were a complicated swirl of frustration and disbelief.

Was this… the fourth? Or the fifth laptop he’d smashed?