The Legendary Supernatural Student

"Head, what has happened to Nico?" In one of the rooms of the former residence of Xiang Ri and his companions, several foreigners are conversing in English. A bald, black man addresses a young white man standing nearby.

"It's nothing, just knocked out," replies the white youth, his hand twisted in an irregular fashion but showing little sign of pain. He gazes out the window with a sullen expression.

"What are we supposed to do with the mission?" asks the bald man.

"Do not mention that damn mission to me," snarls the white youth, eyes flashing with hatred. "I will kill that man! I swear it!" Ever since he had gained his powerful new strength, he had never felt so humiliated or injured. Yet today, he had not only been wounded but incapacitated in a single strike. Such disgrace was intolerable.

"Eck, replay the recording," he commands suddenly. 

"Yes, sir," replies Eck, quickly picking up the recorder placed beside the TV, rewinding the tape, and pressing play. The sound of a man and a woman conversing can be heard. As trained personnel, all present understand several key foreign languages.

"He has touched my things," says a woman's voice.

"Are you certain?" asks the man.

"Yes, I am. I had left it buttoned down yesterday, but when I checked it today, it was buttoned up. I went outside, and..."

"Do you know how I met the Queen? Someone tried to kill her, and I intervened. Thus, those behind the assassins hold a grudge against me. If you are with me, you will surely be targeted too."

"The mastermind is the same prince you saw yesterday. Do you think he will let you go?"

"Stop." At this point, the white youth interrupts, and Eck promptly pauses the tape.

"Wake Nico up!" he orders, glancing towards the small figure still lying unconscious on the bed.

"Yes, sir." A plain-looking white man approaches, giving the unconscious one a forceful slap, knowing that his superior has questions to ask.

"Ah," groans the unconscious figure, jolted awake by the sharp pain. Blinking, he looks at his returning companion, trying to curse but hearing the stern voice of his superior: "Nico, you bastard! Do not pretend to be dead. I have questions for you."

"Yes, Long…Wossir!" Nico rolls over quickly, though feeling a dull ache at the base of his neck.

"What were the targets doing yesterday? Dammit, answer me!" The white youth shouts, seeing Nico still adjusting to the pain while idly rubbing his neck.

"Yes, sir. Yesterday, they visited a manor. The investigation shows it to be the estate of the Queen of Somms, where there are many guards and no way in. So we do not know what happened."

"Do you know that damn prince?"

Confused, Nico stammers: "Sir, could you please clarify...?"

"Damn!" the white youth curses, calling over Eck. "Play it back for him."

After listening to the entire recording, Nico understands the situation better: "Sir, I know who that damn prince is. Yesterday, we saw another group monitoring the estate. They saw a strangely dressed man enter the grounds, identified as the Queen's uncle, Prince Solkis. However, there's another interesting identity..." 

"Solkis?" The white youth furrows his brow, lost in thought. "You are referring to the notorious, ruthless arms dealer, Solkis the Thief?"

"Yes, sir, your wisdom rivals that of the goddess of wisdom herself!" Nico flattered, though he unwittingly struck a sore spot. The white youth growled menacingly, "Enough, Nico! You scoundrel, I want the address of that thief butcher, now—understand? Immediately!"

"Yes, Mr. Woss, if you don't mind, I can take you there right now," Nico said, casting a brief glance at his superior's hands, instantly understanding his intent.

"Let's go," the white youth commanded, and a large black suit was quickly draped over his shoulders to conceal his strangely twisted arms.

As evening approached, a group of visitors—seemingly tourists—arrived at a villa near Luxembourg Park in the Latin Quarter.

"Ah, welcome, my most beloved national friends!" The Clown Prince, flanked by several bodyguards, emerged to greet the unexpected guests.

"Your Highness," the white youth leading the group bowed slightly.

"Oh, oh, no, my dear friends! In fact, we are but a small nation. Compared to your powerful country, the difference is as vast as that between an elephant and an ant. There's no need for such formalities," the Clown Prince said, his words dismissing the need for ceremony, though his face, adorned with an even wider smile than before, revealed his enjoyment of the sense of superiority.

"Thank you!" the white youth replied insincerely. "You are a prince, though this is not your land, we are visitors, and it is only proper to show respect."

"Haha," the Clown Prince laughed heartily, "You are far too modest. But what I truly like is someone as straightforward as you."

"I am most grateful, Your Highness."

"You are far too kind!"

The two exchanged pleasantries before the Clown Prince warmly invited them into the villa's grand hall.

"By the way, sir, may I ask the purpose of your visit today?" As soon as they were seated, the Clown Prince casually lit a cigar and inquired.

"Actually, we are here to propose a collaboration with Your Highness," the white youth remarked, seemingly unaware of the Prince's rather impolite cigar indulgence.

"Collaboration?" The Clown Prince's eyes gleamed for a moment as he exhaled a puff of smoke. "I wonder, my dear friend, what kind of collaboration you have in mind? I've never met you before. Do we share any mutual interests?"

"Although we do not share mutual interests, we do have a common goal," the white youth replied, unhurried and composed.

"Oh?" The Clown Prince responded with an unreadable expression, "Perhaps you would care to explain what this common goal is?"

"Is Your Highness after a certain individual?" The white youth shifted his position to ensure comfort without disturbing his injured hands and continued, "He is an East Asian, with a wound on his right hand?"

"I believe you would be most willing to tell me where you've heard such information, wouldn't you?" The Clown Prince set down his cigar, and in that instant, his bodyguards surrounding him swiftly drew their guns, aimed directly at the group of strangers.

"Of course!" The white youth responded calmly, undisturbed by the numerous dark barrels pointed at him. "In fact, our target is also him. And, unfortunately, we happened to place a few small devices at his residence, which allowed us to overhear some rather unexpected developments." As he spoke, the white youth, perhaps intentionally or not, stomped his foot hard. When he moved, a deep footprint was left on the solid floor.

"I see now." The Clown Prince stared at the footprint for a moment, then suddenly thrust his cigar back into his mouth, taking a long, deliberate drag. He then turned to his bodyguards, who were still pointing guns at the "dear friends" he had just mentioned, and barked, "Hey, what are you doing? Can't you see these are my friends? Damn it, put your guns away!"

Reluctantly, the bodyguards lowered their weapons, though they made no show of discontent with their master's orders.

"Thank you for your trust, Your Highness!" The white youth feigned a look of gratitude.

"Oh, sir, you wound me with such words," the Clown Prince replied, feigning sorrow and disappointment, though his expression quickly shifted as he added, "But may I ask, why have you chosen to seek out our mutual target?"

"This is easily explained; he has thwarted one of our major plans," the white youth said earnestly.

"Oh?" The Clown Prince did not inquire further about the matter, instead saying, "I believe we can work together very harmoniously. Indeed, as you've pointed out, I too have had a significant matter ruined by him! However, I have a small favor to ask of you all."

"Please, go ahead," the white youth responded, fully aware that in this world, nothing comes without a price. He suspected that, based on the information from the recording and the explanation from a certain small informant, the Clown Prince merely wished for them to eliminate another individual after dealing with their "common target."

The Clown Prince said, with a knowing look, "Since you have already overheard those unexpected revelations, I imagine you know what I intend to do next, don't you?"

"Of course!" The white youth immediately confirmed, then smiled ingratiatingly, "Allow me to congratulate Your Highness in advance on your forthcoming ascension to the throne."

"Haha!" The Clown Prince burst into hearty laughter. "It's already dinner time; I wonder, my dear friends, if you would care to join me for a meal?"

"It would be our honor!"