Chapter 125: The Black Widow

"Ghost Hand..."

Qin Feng repeated the name in a low voice, his tone tinged with a playful curiosity, much like a leopard stalking its prey.

He lifted his foot, and Quick-Blade Liu collapsed onto the floor like a heap of mud, gasping for air.

"Speak. How do you contact Ghost Hand? Where is the meeting place?"

Qin Feng’s voice was as cold as ice, devoid of any warmth.

"I... we really don't know..." Quick-Blade Liu’s voice trembled. "We always communicate through an intermediary, and the transaction location changes every time..."

"An intermediary?" Qin Feng raised an eyebrow. "Who is it?"

"Not talking?" A cold glint flashed in Qin Feng’s eyes, and he made a move as if to strike again.

"I'll talk, I'll talk!" Terrified out of his wits, Quick-Blade Liu shrieked, "It’s... it’s a woman called the Black Widow..."

"Black Widow?"

"Yes... yes! She runs a bar in the south of the city called 'Kelong.' That’s where we always meet her..."

Qin Feng said nothing more, merely staring coldly at Quick-Blade Liu as if trying to see right through him. The warehouse fell into a deathly silence, broken only by the heavy wheezing of Quick-Blade Liu and the fearful gulps of his underlings.

A moment later, a chilling smirk curled the corner of Qin Feng’s mouth. "It seems I shall have to pay this Black Widow a visit tonight."

With that, he turned and left the warehouse, leaving behind a scene of wreckage and a group of shaken thugs.

Back in the car, Qin Feng dialed Zhang Hu’s number. "Grab your gear. I’m coming to pick you up. Tell Tianchen to round up some men; we’ll go scout the path first."

"Brother Feng, what happened?" Zhang Hu’s voice on the other end was laced with confusion.

"You'll know when you get there." Qin Feng hung up.

"Ghost Hand..." Qin Feng muttered to himself, a cold glint flashing in his eyes. "I’d like to see exactly who you are!"

As night fell and the neon lights flickered to life, the Kelong Bar in the southern part of the city was ablaze with activity, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and perfume.

Qin Feng and Zhang Hu stood at the entrance, gazing at the decadent scene with unruffled expressions.

"Brother Feng, how do we get in? Just charge in?" Zhang Hu rolled up his sleeves, looking eager for a fight.

Qin Feng shot him a sidelong glance. "Let’s get inside first."

They entered the bar, and the deafening music and roar of the crowd washed over them. In the center of the dance floor, men and women writhed wildly to the rhythm as multicolored lights flashed in a dizzying display.

Qin Feng’s gaze swept across the dance floor and finally settled on a woman in a red cheongsam sitting at the bar.

She was about thirty, with a voluptuous figure, heavy makeup, and wavy hair cascading over her shoulders. Every gesture she made exuded the charm of a mature woman.

"Brother Feng, what are you looking at?" Zhang Hu followed his gaze. "That lady has quite a figure..."

"Shut up. That should be the person we’re looking for," Qin Feng said in a low voice.

"Oh?" Zhang Hu blinked, then lowered his voice. "What do we do now?"

"Wait and see."

Qin Feng picked up a drink and walked toward the woman.

"Drinking alone?" Qin Feng stopped at the bar. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

Ever since Lin Wanting had told him certain things, all of Qin Feng’s clothes had been custom-made, giving him the air of a refined young noble.

The Black Widow looked him up and down. His gaze was sharp and his demeanor steady; he didn't look like a typical greenhorn. Still, in this day and age, what proper businessman would come to a place like this? He was likely just here for a good time.

With that thought, the Black Widow let her guard down and wore a professional smile. "Handsome, all by yourself? Want me to keep you company with a drink?"

Qin Feng’s lips curled into a playful smile as he pulled out the chair next to her. "I’d be delighted."

On the other side, Zhang Hu pretended not to know Qin Feng, slouching over to the other end of the bar, though his eyes scanned the surroundings like a radar. The Kelong Bar was larger than he had imagined, the decor incredibly luxurious, and the clientele clearly wealthy or influential. The place reeked of indulgence. Zhang Hu couldn't help but click his tongue; this Black Widow was not to be underestimated.

"Handsome, what should I call you?" The Black Widow expertly opened a bottle of whiskey and poured two glasses.

"Just call me Qin Feng."

Qin Feng took the glass and swirled it gently, the amber liquid shimmering under the lights.

"Qin Feng..." The Black Widow murmured the name, searching her memory for any match. Finding none, she stopped dwelling on it and raised her glass. "Come on, little brother, have a drink with me."

Qin Feng didn't refuse, tilting his head back to finish the drink in one go.

"Good drinker!" A hint of admiration flashed in the Black Widow’s eyes. He looked like a bookish type; she hadn't expected him to hold his liquor so well.

A few drinks later, the Black Widow began to open up, chatting about the bar’s business—from the customers to the drinks, from the music to the decor—as if she were trying to turn Qin Feng into a regular.

Qin Feng offered casual responses, all while subtly steering the conversation toward "Ghost Hand."

"By the way, I’ve heard there’s a legendary figure in the underworld called 'Ghost Hand.' Do you know him?" Qin Feng asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Ghost Hand?" The Black Widow’s expression flickered, but she quickly returned to normal, laughing it off. "Little brother, where did you hear that rumor? In this day and age, there’s no such thing as a 'Ghost Hand.' It’s just something bored people made up to scare others."

"Is that so?" Qin Feng smiled noncommittally. "I heard he’s incredibly capable, with connections in both the underworld and the authorities. Whatever he touches, it gets done."

The Black Widow’s eyes darted around. She didn't speak, but instead poured Qin Feng another drink.

"A friend of mine is in a bit of trouble and wants to ask for 'Ghost Hand’s' help. Since you’re so well-connected, I was wondering if you could point me in the right direction?" Qin Feng raised his glass, looking at her with a knowing smile.

The smile on the Black Widow’s face froze. She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. "Little brother, it’s not that I don't want to help, but I’ve only heard rumors about this Ghost Hand; there’s nothing substantial to go on. Besides, he’s not the kind of person just anyone can meet."

"Let’s stop beating around the bush. I’m here today specifically for Ghost Hand. As long as you can bridge the gap for me, the price is negotiable."

As he spoke, Qin Feng pulled a bank card from his pocket and placed it gently on the bar.

The Black Widow glanced at it out of the corner of her eye. It was a black gold card—the kind with no spending limit.

She took a deep breath, her professional smile fading. Lowering her voice, she said, "Since you’re so sincere, I’ll make an exception. But I’ll state this clearly: I’m only giving you a lead. Whether you actually get to see Ghost Hand or not depends entirely on your own luck."