The Conference’s End

Shi Jin was indignant at being called stupid yet again (even if indirectly this time), but but at the same time, doubt crept into his heart. “Xiao Si, am I really not smart?” He asked in his mind.

Xiao Si said, with an air of detachment, <It’s all right, you can ask Darling to buy you a lot of walnuts.>

Shi Jin fell silent. He decided to banish Xiao Si to the “small black room” for the time being.

The deck was quiet. Everyone was watching the conference room nervously, and no one spoke.

The purpose of today’s meeting was to re-register the legal underworld organizations and collect suggestions for new ones.

Re-registering the legal organizations was simple, and with the cooperation of the leaders, it was finished in less than an hour. To no one’s surprise, Pegasus’ name didn’t appear on the list. Everyone glanced at the extraordinarily quiet Zuo Yang. When they saw him reading a document with his head bowed, as if he didn’t notice their gazes at all, they looked away, bored.

After the re-registration, it was time for what the leaders cared about the most—proposing candidates for the new legal organizations.

Zhang Zhuoyuan handed out a blank sheet of paper to all the leaders with the recommendation quota, announced that the meeting would be suspended for half an hour, and opened the door.

Lian Jun tore the sheet of paper directly after receiving it then moved his wheelchair towards the door.

Shi Jin rushed over the moment he saw it.

“Are you thirsty? Do you want some juice?” He took out a bottle of said beverage from who knows where and handed it to Lian Jun.

“No, there was water in the conference room,” Lian Jun denied but still reached for the bottle, twisted it open, and took a sip. He motioned for the teenager to push the wheelchair to a more secluded part of the deck and asked, “Weren’t you bored waiting outside?”

“No, there were Gua Nine and Uncle Long to talk to.” As Shi Jin answered, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zuo Yang leaving the conference room. He leaned closer to Lian Jun and asked, lowering his voice, “Is Zuo Yang bothering you today?”

Lian Jun shook his head. “No, this meeting is too important for that. If he intends to make trouble, he’ll wait until afterward.”

Shi Jin couldn’t help but glance towards Nine Eagles’ ship and frown.

Today was the third and final day of the conference. Didn’t that mean, after the meeting was over, the other organizations would leave and the authorities withdraw? Was Nine Eagles biding its time until no one could interfere before running as wild as it wanted?

Lian Jun noticed the direction of his gaze. “Don’t worry, I have my own arrangements,” he said.

Shi Jin looked at him. He noted his calm, confident appearance and felt almost at ease. As a few minutes of the break had already been wasted on this displeasing matter, he busily changed the subject and chatted about more enjoyable topics.

Half an hour later, the break ended, and the leaders returned to the conference room one after another, each handing the no-longer-blank sheet of paper to Zhang Zhuoyuan.

After he collected them all, he asked one of his assistants to sort them out. Meanwhile, he announced last year’s candidates who successfully passed the review. He then asked the leaders who’d recommended them to notify the approved organizations, so they could report to the officials and go through the formalities as soon as possible.

When the results were announced, some were happy, and some were disappointed. Zuo Yang’s face was dark—it was clear the organization he recommended last year had not passed. Lu Shan, on the other hand, smiled as if she heard good news.

That over with, Zhang Zhuoyuan took the list of this year’s candidates compiled by the assistant. First, he read it out in public as customary then made copies and handed them out to everyone. The leaders would go back and discuss it privately, then, if anyone found an organization that didn’t meet the recommendation criteria, they were welcome to mention it in the afternoon meeting.

This officially concluded the morning meeting.

After Lian Jun left the conference room, he handed his copy of the list to Gua One and indicated they’d return to the cabin first.

Shi Jin pushed Lian Jun’s wheelchair and glanced at the list curiously. Seeing that it was just full of strange names, without any marks or annotations, he asked, puzzled, “Why was everyone so excited to get this list?”

“Because this is only a draft, not the final version. It will be verified in the afternoon meeting, and everyone has a say in which organizations will be eliminated, that’s why they’re excited,” Gua Two answered, catching up with them. He glanced at the list in Gua One’s hand, and his eyebrows climbed high. “Nurturing Path? Is that organization not… Cough, Madame Lu Shan’s choices are interesting every year.”

Shi Jin eyed him suspiciously. “How do you know it was recommended by Madame Lu Shan? There’s nothing on the list except names.”

“I guessed,” Gua Two evaded. Seeing that the teenager wanted to continue asking, he hurriedly looked at Gua One and changed the topic, “Can you determine Nine Eagles’ candidate?”

Gua One studied the list then frowned and shook his head. “I’m not sure… Jun-shao, Zuo Yang seems to have changed his recommendation at the last moment—according to our investigation, it should’ve been Desperado.”

“It’s not surprising,” Lian Jun mollified. “Don’t worry, we will know Nine Eagles’ candidate soon.”

His words made Gua One recall something, and he patted his forehead, expression easing. He folded the list and put it into his pocket, no longer speculating. Gua Two and the rest also understood Lian Jun’s unspoken meaning and tacitly changed the topic.

Only Shi Jin was still at sea. He looked at the others’ faces, wanting to ask, but held back. Wrinkling his eyebrows, he pondered whether his intelligence was really a little lacking.

Half an hour later, while having lunch, Lian Jun received a call from Zhang Zhuoyuan. After a brief exchange, he gave Gua One a name. In turn, Gua One fished out the list, quickly found the name and circled it, then handed the paper to Gua Nine.

With the air of an Old West gunslinger, Gua Nine pulled out his laptop, plugged it into an outlet in the restaurant box, and hammered away at the keyboard.

This series of actions didn’t escape Shi Jin’s eyes. He lowered his head, eating in silence—it turned out Zhang Zhuyuan was their informant… How did he ever forget Lian Jun was someone who had close ties with the authorities?

“Why are you eating plain rice? Is the food not to your liking?” Lian Jun suddenly appeared by his side. As he spoke, he pushed a few of the dishes closer and affectionately helped him put some in his bowl.

Shi Jin eyed the extra beef but raised his chopsticks and ate it. After chewing and swallowing it, he finally came to a decision. He looked at Lian Jun seriously and said, “Jun-shao, buy me some walnuts, please.”

Lian Jun observed him silently for a moment, then fondly touched his head and said, “Okay.”

He didn’t even ask why.

Shi Jin suddenly felt a little disheartened. He shook Lian Jun’s hand off, bowed his head, and took a big mouthful of rice.

If you’re seeing this notice, you’re reading this chapter on pirate site – the original translator of Death Progress Bar is Betwixted Translations.

Before the afternoon meeting, Lian Jun received more information compiled by Gua Nine.

This year, Nine Eagles’ candidate was a very new, small organization called Rattlesnake. If not for the referee’s obligation to provide the authorities with detailed information about the recommended organization, who in turn sent it to Gua Nine, he might not have found out much about it on such short notice.

“I followed a lead found in the information Zhang Zhuoyuan gave us and found out Rattlesnake has ties to a certain organization in the Southeast called Python. Python’s subordinate organization is Gunfire, which in turn cooperates with Nine Eagles,” Gua Nine succinctly explained the chain of connections.

Gua Two couldn’t help but sneer. “What the fuck? Nine Eagles recommended a secret subsidiary of a foreign organization for the official review process? Does it want to help foreign organizations infiltrate the country?”

The underworld organizations in China were fighting amongst themselves, that was true, but this was the equivalent of letting a wolf into the house. Did Nine Eagles think the internal situation not chaotic enough?

“No wonder Zuo Yang seems fearless—it turns out he found a powerful backer. A pity he sold out his homeland in the process,” Gua One said icily, his face dark.

Lian Jun closed the folder, put it down, and tapped on his wheelchair armrest. “Nine Eagles can’t stay,” he said.

Everyone’s expression turned solemn. Gua One and Gua Two exchanged glances, then Gua One began, “Jun-shao, you mean …”

Lian Jun nodded and ordered, “Gua Nine, send this to Zhang Zhuoyuan. He will know what to do.”

Gua Nine confirmed. He took the folder, went back to his laptop, and continued to hammer away at the keyboard.

Shi Jin sat quietly at the side, listening to the various conversations that suddenly broke out. He remembered Long Shi was still on Nine Eagles’ ship and frowned.

The afternoon meeting started on time. Shi Jin took his usual place at the corner of the deck.

The meeting was stormy since the very beginning. And, no wonder: some leaders wanted to get rid of certain organizations on the list, some wanted to protect the organizations they recommended, and some, following the principle of “letting others benefit is letting themselves suffer losses,” tried their best to muddy the waters. Let’s not forget about the organizations with only half a recommendation who had to pair up to propose a candidate. As such, the conference room soon became completely chaotic which lead to the atmosphere on deck also becoming somewhat edgy.

The underworld bosses argued till they were red-faced and breathless. It made Lian Jun, who simply observed from the sidelines, seem out of place.

Shi Jin watched the names on the big projector screen in the conference room change one by one and stole a glance at Zuo Yang now and then. As time went by, his nerves became tenser and tenser.

About two hours later, the name “Rattlesnake” finally appeared. Zuo Yang, slumped in his chair as if bored, unconsciously turned a pen in his fingers, but didn’t speak—he didn’t even take a second glance at the screen. It seemed like Rattlesnake had nothing to do with him, and he wasn’t interested in such a small organization.

Zhang Zhuoyuan, as usual, displayed the information provided by the referee first. After briefly summing it up, he announced that everyone could discuss and submit their opinions on whether the organization could enter the official review process.

The crowd quieted for a moment, everyone looking at everyone else. Clearly, no one knew much about Rattlesnake. After a whispered discussion, the leader of one of the small organizations broke the silence: “I have no objections.”

Lian Jun glanced over at the man, remembering his name and organization.

Once one person spoke, the others followed. The majority didn’t object. After all, they had a limited number of vetoes and didn’t want to waste them on some unknown small fry—they’d rather get rid of a few more threatening medium-sized organizations.

The discussion time of a quarter-hour passed quickly. Zhang Zhuoyuan counted everyone’s votes and finally asked, “Is there anyone who has an objection? If not, this organization will pass.”

At this point, Rattlesnake staying on the list seemed to be a foregone conclusion. Zuo Yang still looked bored, but the pen turning in his hand spun with more fluidity.

“I do,” Lian Jun said. This was the first time he spoke during this meeting, and also the first time he vetoed a candidate.

The pen in Zuo Yang’s hand ceased moving, and his eyebrows twitched. Before he could think, he asked, “Why do you object?”

Lian Jun glanced at him and ignored the question. “Nine Eagles seems to care about this small organization—I haven’t heard you speak for others before.”

This sentence was full of meaning. Finally realizing he’d fallen into Lian Jun’s trap, Zuo Yang choked then hurried to salvage the situation: “I just think it’s strange. I care about it? Don’t you mean yourself? After all, this is the first time you’ve spoken.”

“Of course I care,” Lian Jun answered with an expression as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Snakes disgust me, so I object, but what’s with your reaction? It seems you like snakes?”

Zuo Yang’s face distorted, and he almost crushed the pen in his hand.

Lian Jun’s words were unambiguous, so how could the rest of the leaders not understand what was going on? They took another look at the information on the screen, their expressions changing—since Zuo Yang reacted so strongly, Rattlesnake must’ve been recommended by Nine Eagles.

Taking the lead, Old Ghost raised his voice, “Director Zhang, I change my vote. Rattlesnake hasn’t been set-up for long, its qualifications are lacking, and the number of its members is weird. I think it’s much too early for it to appear on this list, and it should be removed.”

The leaders of other organizations also woke up and changed their previous votes, finding all sorts of reasons why Rattlesnake wasn’t a suitable candidate.

Zhang Zhuoyuan let himself be convinced and held the vote again. Finally, after getting the results, he crossed out Rattlesnake’s name.

Zuo Yang was so angry he slammed his fist on the table. He stopped pretending to be bored, staring icily at Lian Jun instead.

Lian Jun returned to being a silent onlooker and continued to ignore him.

The list was long, so to nobody’s surprise, the meeting was extended. By the time all the dust settled, night had already begun to fall.

The afterglow of the setting sun fell on the deck. The subdued light softened the contours and muted the colors. Unexpectedly, it infused a meeting of underworld bosses with a warm feeling.

Liu Zhenjun came down from the bridge and stood with Zhang Zhuoyuan, who led the organization leaders to the deck and thanked them for their cooperation, hoping they would have an opportunity to cooperate again, and other such clichés. Then, he announced the conference was a great success and officially declared its end.

In fact, the surging undercurrents aside, this year’s conference was quite peaceful. There were no open conflicts between organizations, no shootouts, and no brainless attempts to challenge the authorities or Lian Jun. Everyone actually behaved, which was as rare as snow in summer.

The raised deck fence had been lowered so everyone could return to their ships.

The underworld bosses didn’t bother to exchange false pleasantries with the officials—they left and never looked back. Soon, the number of people on the deck halved.

Lian Jun sat next to Zhang Zhuoyuan, accompanying him for the last time.

No one noticed when Zuo Yang stood before him. Ignoring both Zhang Zhuoyuan and Liu Zhenjun, he asked coldly, “Lian Jun, you seem to target me. You have a death wish?”

Lian Jun didn’t bother to look at him. Watching the sunset, he said mildly, “Death wish? I don’t have much to ask for in life, I just need to live longer than you.”

Zuo Yang’s face darkened. Suddenly, he grabbed his subordinate’s gun and chambered the bullet.

Everyone’s expression changed. Gua One, standing behind Lian Jun, and Liu Zhenjun, beside him, exchanged quick glances, then one stepped forward to block, and the other pulled out his gun. Shi Jin, who was heading that way, paled and sprinted forward.

“It’s all right,” Lian Jun stopped Gua One.

The next second, Zuo Yang aimed at the sky and pulled the trigger then threw the gun back to his subordinate. He gave Gua One a glance full of disdain and said to Liu Zhenjun, “Can you move your gun away, Admiral? ‘The authorities can’t harm the conference participants’—you couldn’t have forgotten this rule?”

Liu Zhenjun lowered the gun and warned, “Don’t mess around, or you might see that though your ship arrived here easily, it might have trouble leaving.”

That was a naked threat. Zuo Yang’s face looked even uglier, but he held on to his temper. Facing Lian Jun, he said, “You did all this just to force me to show my hand? All right, I’ll show it to you—remember to take a good look.” He gave Lian Jun a malicious glance, stepped onto the gangway, and left.

Shi Jin had gotten close enough to hear his words and instinctively stood in front of Lian Jun to protect him. He scanned the surroundings vigilantly, looking for Zuo Yang’s potential traps.

Uncle Long, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly said, “Jun-shao, look at Nine Eagles’ ship.” His voice was somewhat agitated.

Everyone turned in that direction.

A thin man was suddenly dragged onto the spacious deck by Zuo Yang’s subordinates. He was rudely pulled to his feet and turned to face the government ship.

Xiao Si screamed excitedly, <It’s Long Shi! Zuo Yang let him out!>

Shi Jin’s heart beat faster, and he unconsciously took a step in the man’s direction, then noticed they were still divided by the stretch of water and backed away. Unfortunately, though Long Shi finally appeared in the open, it was impossible to grab him.

Gua Two couldn’t help but turn to Lian Jun and say, “Jun-shao, it’s Long Shi.”

Everyone was excited but Lian Jun, on the contrary, was calm. He spared Long Shi just a short glance then looked at Gua Three by his side and commanded, “Pack up and prepare to move back to our ship.”

“Jun-shao,” Gua One called out, unable to endure. The angry Zuo Yang brought Long Shi to the deck, and Nine Eagles’ ship was just next to Annihilation’s—they only needed to inform Gua Five, and they could go into action. Right now, their chances of successfully getting the traitor back were pretty high.

But Lian Jun waved his hand. “Don’t be fooled, it’s a trap,” he said. Seeing that Shi Jin still stared at Nine Eagles’ ship, he reached out, grabbed his dangling hand, and pulled him to his side.

Shi Jin returned to himself and looked at him. “Jun-shao, I can—”

“You can nothing,” Lian Jun cut him off. He motioned the teenager to push the wheelchair and turned to Zhang Zhuoyuan to take his leave.

The official also noticed the commotion on Nine Eagles’ ship. “Do you need help?” He asked.

Lian Jun shook his head. “No, at this moment, the government shouldn’t confront Nine Eagles openly, it would have a negative impact. I’ll handle this by myself.”

Zhang Zhuoyuan frowned but didn’t insist. He only said to call him if Lian Jun changed his mind and let his subordinates escort Annihilation’s members back to their ship.

Shi Jin, unaccustomed to the swaying of the gangway, wisely asked Gua One to take over pushing the wheelchair and moved to walk in the rear. His attention was still on the deck of Nine Eagles’ ship.

Zuo Yang didn’t return to his cabin but stood next to Long Shi, the knife in his hand glistening coldly. He used it to trace lines on Long Shi’s body, glancing at Lian Jun from time to time.

The traitorous doctor was likely drugged; his eyes were half-closed, and he didn’t look completely conscious.

Lian Jun and his party were the last to return. By the time they stepped on the deck of their ship, the government ship was almost completely freed from the spider web of gangways.

Now, they were very close to Nine Eagles’ ship, and Long Shi’s appearance could be seen clearly.

It was a standard handsome face, but unnaturally so, with obvious traces of plastic surgery. Gua One and the others frowned while Uncle Long’s face was heavy. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress his emotions.

Lian Jun still treated Zuo Yang, or rather the whole Nine Eagles’ vessel, as air. After the official clear-out signal, he ordered Gua Five, who was in charge of Annihilation’s ship, to dismantle the gangway and prepare for the return voyage.

Gua Five immediately set people to do that.

It wasn’t only them—after the clear-out signal, all organizations swung into action, and the gangways which spun on the sea for three days like a gigantic cobweb began to disappear. First, the outermost ships released the connection between each other and dispersed, allowing the vessels closer to the middle move, and the whole operation was repeated.

In less than half an hour, only the ships of the large organizations and the government remained.

Lian Jun stayed on the deck this entire time, helping the officials keep an eye on the other organizations’ departures.

Zuo Yang didn’t leave either, just watched Lian Jun with a strange expression on his face. From time to time he drew a bloody line on Long Shi’s body like some kind of psychopath.

These actions made Shi Jin extremely nervous, and the furrow between his eyebrows became deeper and deeper.

The cuts Zuo Yang made weren’t deep, but Long Shi’s condition seemed pretty bad. If things continued like this, he would be tortured to death. If he died, the poison formula would be gone with him.

Another ten minutes passed. Only Annihilation, Nine Eagles, Phantom, and the government vessels were still present. All the gangways were dismantled.

Lian Jun stopped staring at the sea and ordered their ship to set off.

Gua One, Shi Jin, and the others had been forcing themselves to hold still, but they were about to reach the limit of their endurance—they were going to leave just like that? What about Long Shi and the poison formula?

Zuo Yang, however, broke the deadlock before any of them could. Seeing that Lian Jun intended to leave, he lost his patience and stabbed the knife deep in Long Shi’s arm.

The pain seemed to break the fog enveloping the man’s brain. He screamed and opened his eyes, confused; it took him a moment to notice Lian Jun sitting in the wheelchair across from him. Then, a feverish, fanatical expression appeared on his face, and he shouted, “Jun-shao! Jun-shao, save me! I served you for so many years—I did everything you ordered me to, remember? Please help me!”

‘I did everything you ordered me to’!? What’s with those intentionally ambiguous words!?

Gua One and the others glared at Long Shi, scowling.

Suddenly, Xiao Si shrieked, panicked, <JinJin, Darling’s progress bar began to rise just after Long Shi started calling for help! It’s already reached 950!>

Shi Jin looked at Lian Jun’s bar in shock. Indeed, though it steadily fell since the other large organizations left, it increased every time Long Shi shouted—in the blink of an eye, it had risen to 980. The last thread of reason in his mind snapped. He pulled out his gun, aimed at Long Shi, and snarled, “Shut the fuck up! Open your mouth again, and I’ll shoot you!”

Whoa.

Gua One and the others looked at Shi Jin as one, sporting expressions of pleasant surprise which were really out of place in the present situation. This reaction… did the stupid boy finally realize his own feelings?