Number Thirteen stood up and fired several shots at the person no more than thirty meters away from him, but regrettably, some fool with a loose screw in their brain raised their submachine gun and fired back at Number Thirteen.

On the scene, there were at least twenty police cars and at least forty to fifty officers, and even though they don’t charge into battle, there are more behind them.

So the retaliation quickly led to a larger scale counterattack.

Number Thirteen and Lion dragged Medusa along. Medusa lay motionless on the ground, her legs dragging behind as they quickly pulled her backwards.

As they approached the police cars, an elderly officer holding a gun in one hand and his hat in the other said in a low voice, "What happened? What’s wrong with her?"

"She was hit hard on the head. Where’s the ambulance? Where is it?"

The chubby old officer pointed to the rear loudly, "It’s coming soon, go to the back first!"

Number Thirteen and Lion continued running backwards with Medusa. A nervous officer shouted at them, "Do you need help?"

"No need, be careful! Those guys are vicious!"

Answering the kind policeman intending to help, Number Thirteen and the others dragged Medusa to a place out of sight from others. Amidst the gunfight, of course, they needed to find cover.

Once out of sight, Medusa immediately opened her eyes and stood up, took off her hat and shook her hair loose, then began to remove her uniform. Meanwhile, Number Thirteen tossed his gun to the ground beside him, saying, "Let’s go."

The three turned a corner, taking off their clothes as they walked, throwing their hats and uniforms casually on the roadside, ignoring the puzzled stares of the people hiding on either side.

Number Thirteen and the others had a special skill: walking while undressing, and they could take off their pants without removing their shoes. But if you observe closely, you’ll notice they weren’t really taking off their clothes but shredding them with a blade.

While stripping off the police uniforms from outside, the three arrived at an intersection where they all simultaneously stopped.

Lion stretched an arm around Medusa, smiled at Number Thirteen, and said, "My last mission was perfect."

Number Thirteen whispered, "It wasn’t perfect."

Lion raised his hand, saying, "Then it was regret-free."

Medusa laughed, "Will we meet again?"

Number Thirteen tilted his head, saying, "Let’s not meet again."

Lion exhaled, "Then we won’t leave any contact. Remember to formally notify Grand Ivan that we’ve completed all tasks. We won’t appear again."

Number Thirteen whispered, "I will."

Lion and Medusa exchanged smiles, then both extended their hands towards Number Thirteen for a wave before turning and walking away hand in hand to the right.

Number Thirteen lowered his head and walked off to the left.

After walking a few steps, Number Thirteen suddenly stopped, calling out loudly, "Hey."

Lion and Medusa stopped and looked at Number Thirteen. Number Thirteen raised his hand and shouted, "Take care!"

Medusa started laughing first, followed by Lion. After exchanging glances, Medusa shouted, "Thirteen!"

Number Thirteen tilted his head, raised his eyebrows, and made a listening posture.

Medusa shouted, "No one’s controlling you anymore. We’re all free. Try to learn forgetting, and you’ll discover a new world!"

Lion raised his hand, shouting, "Listen to her, she’s not wrong. Take care, mercenary."

Number Thirteen nodded, then turned again, not looking back this time.

Number Thirteen with a contemplative look, lowered his head, walking slowly along the street.

As he walked, Number Thirteen’s steps suddenly became lighter. He raised his head, walked faster, and a smile appeared on his face.

Number Thirteen started whistling softly, but it seemed he was good at everything except whistling, as the tune was intermittent and off-key.

Number Thirteen walked past a flower shop, glanced at the flowers inside, slowed his pace slightly at the shop’s entrance and took a deep breath.

After walking another two hundred meters or so, Number Thirteen saw a woman in her thirties, dressed appropriately, with a bag over her left arm and a phone in her right hand, talking urgently as she walked briskly.

Her hair was red; it wasn’t clear if it was dyed or natural, but she had a head of red hair.

Number Thirteen suddenly stopped and stared at the woman walking towards him. Then he abruptly halted, turned around, and sprinted back to the flower shop he’d just passed.

Standing at the entrance, he quickly scanned and picked a white rose from the bouquet at the door, threw a handful of money on the ground as the shop owner shouted, and sprinted back to the red-headed woman.

As he stood before the woman, who had just hung up the phone, his sudden appearance startled her, causing her to drop her phone.

Number Thirteen reached out and grabbed the phone, placing the white rose in front of the red-haired woman, saying softly, "Your favorite white rose."

The woman was dumbfounded, looking at Number Thirteen, then at the phone in his left hand, before returning her gaze to the flower. After a moment’s hesitation, she took the white rose, saying, "Thanks, but how do you know white roses are my favorite? Do I know you?"

Number Thirteen flicked his left hand, placing the phone in front of the woman as well, gazing at her intently, "I must forget you, instructor. I must forget you, my...most beloved person."

The woman didn’t know whether to be afraid or what, instinctively taking a step back.

Number Thirteen spun his hand, saying quietly with a dazed look, "I can’t forget you, yet I must. I want a new life. Throughout, my life has been...too bitter."

Number Thirteen closed his eyes painfully. The woman was stunned, "What are you going to do?"

Number Thirteen opened his eyes, speaking softly, "Maybe I’ll go fishing on a tropical island, or build a cabin in the forests of Sweden, chopping wood every day."

The woman nodded dumbly, saying, "Oh."

Number Thirteen exhaled deeply, suddenly touched the woman’s hair. The red-haired woman stiffened, mouth agape, scared to move. Number Thirteen leaned in, inhaled deeply by her hair, whispered by her ear, "Don’t appear in my dreams anymore, farewell."

Suddenly lowering his hand, Number Thirteen walked away, head held high.

The woman breathed a sigh of relief, patted her chest, about to scream but found her phone was in her pocket.

"Lunatic."

After muttering softly, looking at the flower in her hand, the woman smiled, "It doesn’t feel bad."

Saying this, she took out her phone, hurriedly dialed a number, then quickly said, "Hi, Marti, you wouldn’t believe what happened. I encountered someone madly in love with me. Name? I don’t know his name, he just appeared suddenly, gave me a flower, confessed and then left. What? I should’ve stopped him? But, he seemed somewhat abnormal, though, quite handsome. Well, certainly, at least I should’ve asked his name."

The woman immediately turned back but could no longer see Number Thirteen’s figure.

Everything was coincidental, purely accidental. Number Thirteen was merely unusually touched at the moment; don’t ask why, it was inexplicable mental fluctuation, happening when he encountered a red-haired woman during an unusual time.

While the woman was on call, Number Thirteen also called. When Gao Yang answered, he spoke softly, "Mission accomplished."

"Okay, understood."

Number Thirteen hesitated, saying quietly, "Things here are done, I’m leaving."

"Okay, where to?"

Number Thirteen took a deep breath, smiled, "Maybe go fishing, maybe travel the world, maybe build a cabin."

"You should go explore. When are you coming back?"

Number Thirteen replied casually, "Could be soon, or a long time, or maybe never."