Chapter Forty-Eight: The Art of Hypnosis

“Matsumoto, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Moseska’s face snapped back from astonishment, her eyes projecting innocence, but to Chen Cao, she no longer seemed as she once was.

Chen Cao leaned gently against the cave wall, his tone mild, and didn’t reply directly to Moseska’s words. Instead, he said, “Tell me, won’t you, Moseska? No matter if that’s your real name or not.”

“Matsumoto, I really don’t know what you’re talking about!” Moseska’s expression gradually went cold, her voice grew stiffer, and her gaze fixed unwaveringly on Chen Cao.

Chen Cao understood well enough—those were the eyes of a predator, hungry for blood. But he didn’t care. He continued, “The courage it takes to have a code transmitter implanted in your cortex… It’s clear the organization you serve is no ordinary one. Is it the League of Justice? Or a holy war organization?”

Moseska’s face turned cold as ice. Her innocence vanished, replaced by an icy stare. “Since you already know, then let me go!”

Chen Cao laughed. “Heh, I’d rather not let you pull any tricks while I’m still recovering!” Despite his words, he calmly released her wrist. He was well aware that Moseska had approached him with the intent of extracting whatever information she needed—if she’d wanted to act, she would have done so long ago.

Seeing her wrist freed, Moseska gave it a shake and said, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you?”

“Kill me? That’s a long way off.” Chen Cao shifted his position, still smiling. “I’m sure I have something you want, don’t I?”

Moseska smiled too, her pretty blue eyes narrowing, and two sweet dimples appeared on her cheeks. Brushing back her golden hair, she said, “I wasn’t certain at first, but now I know for sure: you have the intelligence I’m after.”

Chen Cao brushed the dust from his pants, utterly unconcerned. “You’re that confident you can get information out of me?”

Moseska plopped down on the ground, a little discouraged, but answered with certainty, “I can’t. After all this time, I know what kind of person you are—a strong warrior. Even if you’re injured now, I couldn’t break you.”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?” Chen Cao asked.

Moseska spoke seriously. “Ever since you entered Sebastien’s base, I’ve known about you. I still don’t know which country you’re from or why you’re here, but I do know you’re not Matsumoto Shuren. Matsumoto was always under our surveillance—then, one day, he disappeared, and you showed up.”

Chen Cao’s expression didn’t change; he kept his gentle gaze fixed on Moseska. “So from the moment I entered the base, you were watching me—I was just a monkey dancing alone, thinking myself clever.”

Moseska looked into his eyes, deep and mesmerizing, and her lips seemed to move of their own accord. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Then that time I fired at the plane, or tried to… anyway, when I was fighting the aircraft in the desert, you were holding back as well, weren’t you?” Chen Cao’s eyes stayed locked on hers.

“Yes. Unless it was absolutely necessary, I couldn’t act. That’s the rule,” Moseska answered, still echoing his words.

“Very good. Then, today, if I never made a move, you would have just let those animals—”

“That’s right. The first chapter of our training manual teaches us exactly that.”

“What kind of damned organization is this? So inhuman!” Chen Cao thought darkly. But outwardly, he kept his composure, smiling in the dancing firelight, his gaze unwavering as he continued, “So, which country’s organization are you with?”

“Kokora—oh no…” Suddenly Moseska snapped to her senses, saw the sly smile on Chen Cao’s face, and quickly turned her head away. She realized she’d been hypnotized.

Chen Cao burst out laughing. “Looks like your resolve isn’t so firm after all, falling under so quickly. Didn’t they teach you anti-hypnosis techniques? Or are my eyes just too irresistible?”

Moseska’s cheeks flushed as she turned her face aside. “Don’t flatter yourself! Mind your own business!”

“So you’re an agent of Kokora. But your country isn’t even a participant in this war!” Chen Cao’s laughter faded, and his face turned serious.

Moseska managed to steady her breathing and turned back to face him, her cheeks still glowing pink against her pale skin. “At this point, if I don’t tell you, I know you’ll find a way to make me talk. After so many days together, I think I know you somewhat. From my own analysis, I believe you’re not Matsumoto Shuren, nor are you from Gabon, are you?”

Chen Cao’s eyes flashed, but he neither confirmed nor denied.

Moseska smiled faintly, her dimples appearing again. “I must have guessed right. All right, since it’s out in the open, I won’t hide it from you anymore. Maybe you can even help me. How about we make a deal?”

Chen Cao leaned against the cave wall, arms crossed, looking at Moseska. “I’ve never had much interest in business.”

Moseska grinned slyly. “Don’t you care about your mission, either? I don’t know which country’s agent you are, but you came to a place as chaotic as this—you must have a purpose, don’t you?”

Chen Cao didn’t reply. He picked up the iron bowl of water beside him and drank deeply.

Moseska went on. “I’ve checked your things. Other than that signal-emitting watch, you don’t have any communication equipment. But your organization is very good at covering its tracks. I’ve tried using your transmitter to fish for contacts, but your side was too cautious—they cut the connection immediately. Maybe they think you’re already dead.”

Chen Cao gave no response; after all these days, of course his organization would assume he’d been lost.

“Besides, you came alone, didn’t you?” Moseska pressed on, revealing what she’d deduced. “Because on the battlefield, not a single other soldier like you ever appeared.”

After speaking, Moseska sat by the fire, stretching out her long fingers to warm them. She said no more, knowing she’d already baited the hook; now it was up to the fish to pay the price.

“It seems you’re no ordinary agent,” Chen Cao remarked after a long silence. “Your analytical skills are far beyond your years. I think Kokora has only one organization capable of producing a young operative like you—the Kokora Sangjo Academy, am I right?”

Moseska’s heart skipped a beat, but she betrayed no emotion. “You know about the Sangjo Academy? Clearly, you’re no ordinary man yourself.”

Chen Cao regarded her steadily. “Of course I know. Only the Kokora Sangjo Academy could produce the best of the best.”

Moseska no longer concealed anything. She nodded, mind racing as she connected all her observations of Chen Cao over the past days—his marksmanship, his methods, his skin, his ethnicity—analyzing rapidly. Suddenly, she remembered a segment highlighted in the academy’s secret archives, a string of numbers often repeated among Sangjo’s cadets and instructors, along with the instructors’ warnings.

“0611 is the world’s most mysterious military organization.”

“Capture anyone you like, but never take a soldier from the Great Chin 0611 alive. Because when you capture him, he’s already as good as dead.”

“Never attempt a frontal confrontation with a 0611 soldier. Even if you hold the most terrifying weapon on earth, if you meet them, they’ll put a knife in your chest with their dying breath.”

Moseska trembled faintly. According to the records, only the former Kokora had ever crossed swords with that neighboring state’s ace forces decades ago. Even though it was a conventional war, the involvement of the 0611 unit had nearly wiped out Kokora’s command and special forces. All they left behind were chilling statistics.

Combat death ratio: 1:17. Prisoner ratio: “0.” Corpse recovery ratio: “0.” And for the last, a parenthetical note: In year XX of Kokora, one enemy soldier’s body was recovered. By nightfall, the enemy, at a cost of 1:3, reclaimed the body…

Now, Moseska had begun to believe—and firmly believe—that the unassuming man before her belonged to that godlike organization from the Great Chin, and was one of its elite warriors. She remembered how, days ago, when Chen Cao was on the brink of death, he told her there was a bottle of corpse-dissolving fluid hidden in his boot. Who among the soldiers of the Justice League’s developed nations would so readily choose “no corpse left behind”?

Noticing Moseska’s silence, Chen Cao spoke. “All right, you must be imagining all sorts of things I can’t bear. Don’t worry; even if you ask me, I’ll deny it. Let’s begin the transaction, shall we?”

Chen Cao seemed to tacitly admit Moseska’s suspicions. Moseska, quickly regaining her composure, displayed the poise of an elite special operative. “Your transmitter is useless now. Even if you used it, your organization wouldn’t believe you.”

“Oh, is that so?” Chen Cao spread his hands, unconcerned, his gaze meeting Moseska’s blue eyes. “So, how do you plan to help me?”

His “deep, soulful” look made Moseska’s heart flutter. Afraid of being hypnotized again, she quickly turned away. “That’s not your concern. You must be seeking something here—a person or an object. Tell me, and I’ll use my intelligence network to help you, but you must promise me one thing!” Moseska, who had been staring into the fire, suddenly turned to Chen Cao and said, “A very important mission—one that only you can fulfill.”

Flame King 48 – End of Chapter 48: Hypnosis Technique Complete!