Transmigrating Into a Book, the Villain Becomes the White Moonlight!

155: Chapter 155 Imprisoning Ran Shu(Bound, imprisoned ~ inhuman treatment~)

”Yeah, it’s fine,” Su Bai interrupted her. ”Find those two people who completed the task and send them to me. That’s all.”

He hung up the phone before Chu Ci could say anything else.

The phone screen went dark. Su Bai stood in place, holding the device, his expression turning somewhat subtle.

Everything clicked into place.

No wonder that day at the Nangong Family, when Mu Xue was pushed to the brink, Brother Bufan—her personal bodyguard who, according to the original plot, should have defended her with his life—never showed up from start to finish.

He had been wondering about it. Had the Protagonist’s halo malfunctioned, going offline just when he should have made his grand entrance?

Turns out, he really did get taken down.

And judging by the timing, it must have happened around those two days.

Kidnapped, injected with something, lying unconscious in some godforsaken corner—naturally, he had no chance to rush to the Nangong Family for a heroic rescue.

The more Su Bai thought about it, the more he felt like laughing.

Who was it? So damn impressive?

In the world of this novel, Brother Bufan was the genuine Dragon King Protagonist, blessed with a halo, protected by fortune—the kind of guy who could stumble upon martial arts manuals while walking down the street or meet a legendary master after jumping off a cliff.

Logically speaking, a plotline like ”getting kidnapped and injected” shouldn’t have happened to him.

Yet, someone actually pulled it off.

Two people whose names he didn’t even know, claiming his bounty, had managed to make this Dragon King Protagonist take a nasty fall.

Su Bai couldn’t help but mentally give a thumbs-up to those two anonymous guys.

Hardcore.

He raised his eyes, his gaze falling back on Ran Shu.

She still stood in the same spot, maintaining that ”ready to die” posture, but a trace of barely perceptible confusion flickered in her eyes—she had clearly overheard the phone call but hadn’t fully grasped what it meant yet.

Su Bai looked at her and suddenly felt the scene was somewhat absurd.

This woman before him, who had sat beside him as a child, now a Dragon King Hall assassin, who had just laid her cards on the table saying she was at his mercy—the ”Dragon King” she was loyal to had actually been tied up and injected with veterinary-grade sedatives by two unknown bounty hunters just a few days ago.

What Dragon King.

What Protagonist.

At that moment, Su Bai suddenly wondered if he had overthought this so-called ”novel world correction force.”

Maybe... I should try activating the system?

The thought flashed through his mind.

The system was right there, dormant. He could wake it anytime he wanted.

The data, the mission panels, the exchange shop from his past life—he could describe them all with his eyes closed.

Forget it.

Su Bai shook his head internally, pushing the thought back down.

It wasn’t the time yet. His past self had already seen what the world looked like after completing the system’s missions—orderly, logical, everything quantified into data, including human hearts.

Blocking the system upon transmigrating was his own choice.

He didn’t want those cold numbers to define his life again, didn’t want mission rewards and punishments to become the sole criteria for his actions.

To prevent what happened before from repeating.

It was that simple.

He put his phone back in his pocket, looked up, and his gaze landed on Ran Shu again.

She just stood there, spine straight.

The row of knives on the sink counter gleamed coldly, the purple binding strip hanging limply beside them.

Her face still showed no expression, but in her eyes—something had extinguished, while something else stubbornly flickered in the depths.

Su Bai watched her.

The chubby little girl from the depths of his memory and this thin, cold woman before him overlapped and separated in his mind like overexposed film.

She probably doesn’t remember me at all anymore.

Su Bai thought.

Those years were too long ago.

So long that he himself rarely thought about it, so long that those memories were sealed in the deepest corner of his mind, like an old book left unopened for ages.

And she had experienced family upheaval, gone abroad, become a Dragon King Hall assassin—the paths she walked, the blood she saw, the people she killed over those years had long since turned her into someone else.

Not remembering was normal.

But even if she did remember, what then?

She was here to kill him.

That fact lay like a cold, heavy stone atop those soft memories.

She came to kill him. Whether she remembered their childhood or not, whatever she was thinking now, that fact wouldn’t change.

Mercy toward an enemy is cruelty toward oneself.

His past self might have softened, thought about ”giving her a chance,” tried to move her with those distant memories.

But the current him wouldn’t. It wasn’t heartlessness; it was being responsible—to himself, to Mu Xue, to Lin Wan, to those who truly cared about him and needed his protection.

Su Bai withdrew his gaze, no longer looking at her.

The two of them just stood there, a few steps apart, neither speaking.

The venue was so quiet only the hum of the ventilation system remained.

Soon after, the venue door was pushed open.

Uncle Fu entered with several people.

His steps were steady, expression grave. His gaze paused slightly as it swept over Ran Shu and the knives on the sink, then returned to its usual calm.

He didn’t ask questions, just nodded to the people behind him.

Several men stepped forward and efficiently, though not roughly, led Ran Shu away.

She offered no resistance, no struggle, didn’t even look at Su Bai again.

Only as she passed by his side did her footsteps hesitate for a moment—an extremely faint pause, almost negligible.

Then she was gone.

The door closed behind her with a low thud.

Uncle Fu stood in place, brows furrowed, wearing an unusually grave expression.

”This Dragon King Hall’s intelligence is really uncanny,” he said, voice low, as if muttering to himself or reporting to Su Bai. ”Your decision to practice martial arts was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and coming to this venue was my own last-minute decision that day. The number of people in the entire Su Family who knew about it could be counted on one hand. How could they have ambushed us here so precisely?”

He paused, a cold glint flashing in his eyes. ”Could there be... a mole in the family?”

Su Bai glanced at Uncle Fu.

He knew what Uncle Fu was worried about.

This old butler who had served the Su Family for decades cared most about his safety.

Any factor that might threaten him would be placed under Uncle Fu’s microscope and scrutinized repeatedly.

Suspecting a mole in the family was his professional instinct’s first reaction.

”It’s not related to the family,” Su Bai said, his tone flat yet firm.

Meeting Uncle Fu’s gaze, he even curved his lips slightly. ”Just a coincidence.”

Uncle Fu looked at him, seeming to want to ask more, but ultimately nodded.

But Su Bai knew this wasn’t any ”coincidence.”

There were no coincidences.

This was the plot advancing.

Protagonist, female protagonist, Villain—the fate lines of these characters were originally intertwined.

Sooner or later, they would connect with him in various ways, unavoidable and inescapable.

This wasn’t some conspiracy, not some precise intelligence—just the operating rules of this world.

And he was certain Ran Shu’s appearance at this venue this time was absolutely just a coincidence.

If she had been waiting for him here with premeditation, she should have prepared everything yesterday, taken out the knife, and completed the task cleanly.

Not like yesterday, appearing before him unprepared, using a clumsy excuse to hide her identity.

She had also only received those knives this morning.

She had also acted on a sudden impulse, wanting to complete this mission in the most direct way.

She wasn’t ready either.

Su Bai pulled back his thoughts, his gaze landing on Uncle Fu’s face.

”Look into the Dragon King Hall,” he said, voice not loud. ”I want to know where Brother Bufan is right now.”

Uncle Fu nodded without further questions.

The two walked out of the venue, one after the other.

Uncle Fu drove personally. The black sedan moved smoothly through several blocks before finally stopping in front of an inconspicuous storefront.

From the outside, it looked like an ordinary Club, the signboard even overly understated. But those in the know in City A understood just how deep the background of this place was now.

Su Bai pushed the door open and entered.

Passing through the front hall, several servers bowed their heads in greeting. He paid no attention, heading straight deeper inside.

That innermost private room—ever since he took over the Club, Chu Ci had kept it reserved for him—not open to the public, not for guests, just waiting for the day he might drop by and need a place to settle.

Just as he turned the corridor corner, Chu Ci quickly came forward to meet him.

”Young Master Su.”

She wore heavy makeup today, her eyeliner drawn thin and long, her lipstick a steady dark red.

A smile hung on her face, the perfect kind—neither overly fawning nor aloof.

Su Bai glanced at her.

”Face healed?”

He asked casually, his gaze lingering on her cheek for a moment.

That slap back then had been vicious—he remembered clearly. At the time, this woman had still treated him like an ordinary rich second-generation heir, her attitude so dismissive it was infuriating.

He hadn’t been polite either, teaching her a lesson on the spot.

Now, no trace remained on that face. Her skin was fair and clean, full of luster, the makeup covering everything thoroughly.

”It’s healed,” Chu Ci lowered her head, a slight curve at the corner of her mouth, the smile carrying just the right amount of deference.

She turned slightly, bending at the waist, ushering Su Bai into the private room.

Her high heels made little sound on the carpet, but her posture was clear—in this place, her word was law;

Before Su Bai, she was just a guide.

The private room wasn’t large but was meticulously arranged.

The lighting was soft, the sofa genuine leather. The coffee table held several account books and a freshly brewed pot of tea.

Su Bai sat on the sofa, casually picking up the topmost account book and flipping it open.

Chu Ci stood to the side, not sitting.

To be honest, she was seven or eight years older than Su Bai and had been in this business for a long time, having seen all sorts of scenes.

But ever since Su Bai revealed the Su Family’s methods, she hadn’t dared to treat him like a young man anymore.

It wasn’t on the same level—what she could handle were the people and matters within this Club;

What the Su Family could handle were the rules of this entire city.

Recently, the winds had indeed shifted.

Those in the know in City A now understood who stood behind this Club.

Not only had business multiplied several times over, but even her own name, Chu Ci, carried more weight.

Characters who used to be dismissive now actively approached to offer words;

Forces who used to eye this piece of land covetously now took detours.

Everyone in City A’s underworld had their own mental ledger—Chu Ci now worked for the Su Family. Touching her meant touching the Su Family’s reputation.

”They’ve been found,” Chu Ci spoke, her voice not loud but clear. ”They’re on their way here.”

She was naturally referring to the two brothers who had taught Brother Bufan a lesson.

They had already been contacted. Hearing Young Master Su wanted to meet, they immediately headed over without a second word.

What they looked like, their backgrounds—she hadn’t had time to ask in detail yet. Only knew they were two bounty hunters who had taken the job, bold and efficient.

”No rush,” Su Bai said without looking up, continuing to flip through the account book. ”We’ll wait.”

Chu Ci acknowledged and stepped back to stand aside, saying no more.

The private room fell quiet. The faint scent of tea mixed with the smell of the account book’s paper.

Occasionally, there was the soft sound of pages turning, and faint footsteps from far down the corridor—people passed by, but no one dared approach this room.

Su Bai flipped a few pages, his gaze pausing somewhere, his brow moving almost imperceptibly before he continued reading.

The accounts were fairly clear. Income, expenses, splits—each entry listed plainly.

He still acknowledged Chu Ci’s ability in this area. After all, building and stabilizing this Club in City A required real skill.

But some numbers didn’t sit right with him—not that the accounts were wrong, but some areas could be improved.

He’d mention it later when the people arrived.

He closed the account book, leaned back against the sofa, closed his eyes to rest for a few seconds, then asked, ”That four billion from before, it’s still with you, right?”

He was referring to that money.

The four billion Brother Bufan transferred from overseas into a shell company, which hadn’t even had time to warm up before Su Bai intercepted it midway.

The job had been done cleanly. The money passed through several hands before finally settling safely into this Club’s accounts.

Brother Bufan’s side was probably still wondering where the money went.

”It’s here,” Chu Ci replied, standing still. ”That money... we haven’t used it.”

”Why not use it?” Su Bai opened his eyes, glancing at her. ”City A is this big, and you’ve only opened a few Clubs? Find some suitable locations, open more.”

Chu Ci paused, not immediately responding.

She understood clearly. Su Bai’s words sounded casual, but the meaning was plain—what he was looking at now was no longer just this street, this Club.

City A had plenty of locations, and all of China had more than just City A.

Four billion sitting idle in the accounts was dead money;

Spreading it out to expand the operation would generate more money.

She had been in this business for so many years, considered herself somewhat reputable in City A’s underworld, but that reputation probably seemed like small-time play in Su Bai’s eyes.

He could move a finger and bring in four billion; he could casually say a word and expand the operation across the entire city.

”Understood,” Chu Ci lowered her head, responding decisively.

Truthfully, she had long wanted to use that money.

Expanding the Club, hiring more people, building connections—all of it required money.

But that four billion was transferred by Su Bai. Without his word, how could she dare make decisions on her own?

Now that Su Bai had given the go-ahead, she knew what to do.

Su Bai leaned back further, shifting to a more comfortable position, and asked casually, ”You should find someone to assist you. Don’t you have any relatives or something?”