Shocking the Whole Internet! You Are Not a Psychologist at All! - Chapter 479 - 479: 479 Maybe Enough For a White Shirt

Chapter 479 – 479: 479 Maybe Enough For a White Shirt

Translator: Dragon Boat Translation Editor: Dragon Boat Translation

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Chen Yu said, his voice calm despite the black gun pointed at him. “Ever since you received the mission yesterday, you didn’t plan to let me live.”

Facing the handgun, Chen Yu just smiled.

“What a nasty predicting ability…” The man muttered to himself, surprise flickering across his face.

“Killing me is the main reason, sure,” Chen Yu continued with a wry smile. “But you must have heard I have some savings, so you figured you’d make some extra cash at the last minute. Am I right?”

“Cut the crap!” the man snapped. “Hurry up and pay up.”

He rattled off a foreign bank account number.

He’d learned everything about Chen Yu’s supposed powers from his employer.

So what if the guy was a legend?

Bullets didn’t discriminate against flesh and blood.

Still, caution gnawed at him.

He’d done his research. Chen Yu, the psychologist-turned-fortune teller, supposedly had limitations.

Fortune tellers couldn’t tell the future of their peers, the dead, or themselves.

“How about we make a bet?” Chen Yu proposed, his smile widening.

“A bet?” The man scoffed.

“Don’t even think about stalling for time, Chen Yu.:

“You have ten seconds. Money or your life. Or I kill you and find the money myself!”

“You’re using a silenced pistol, aren’t you?” Chen Yu countered with a knowing look.

“Even if you empty the entire clip, nobody outside would hear a thing.”

“You even covered your fingers with nail polish to avoid fingerprints, scoping out the surveillance cameras last night, which is why you could avoid them all today.”

“All in all, you’re a seasoned professional hitman.”

The man’s face contorted in shock.

“Fuck! You really are a fortune teller,” he hissed.

“Everything you said… damn, it’s too accurate!”

Unfortunately, Chen Yu simply got in the way of the wrong person.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” the man said, his voice tight.

Chen Yu reminded him, “I bet you’ll regret this after I pull the trigger.”

“Nonsense!” The man bristled, offended.

He’d been a killer for a decade, his body count exceeding twenty.

Everyone, from high-profile targets to ordinary folks, crumbled before his gun.

Why would Chen Yu be any different?

“Suit yourself, if you don’t believe me,” Chen Yu shrugged, then calmly took out his phone and dialed a number.

The man was dumbfounded. What was happening?

Ten years in the business, and this was the first victim who wasn’t terrified.

Confusion clouded his mind as the call connected.

“Captain Li, this is Chen Yu.” Chen Yu spoke into the phone.

“Please bring backup. Someone’s trying to kill me.”

“You’re fucking courting death!” The man roared, his facade crumbling.

Hearing the name “Captain Li” sent a jolt of fear through him.

Chen Yu had called the police!

The man abandoned all pretense of collecting money, and his only thought now was to silence the man before him.

He squeezed the trigger.

“Bang!”

A gunshot echoed through the room, followed by a bloodcurdling scream. “Arghhhh!!!”

The gun in the man’s hand exploded.

A single bullet erupted, tearing through the room with a deafening crack.

It found its mark on the man’s right shoulder blade, sending him crashing to the floor in a scream of agony.

After hanging up the phone, Chen Yu unhurriedly rose to his feet.

He regarded the writhing killer with a playful expression.

“I told you,” he said with a faint smile, “you’d regret pulling the trigger.”

“How’s that?” Chen Yu continued, his amusement clear. “Do you regret it now?”

“I regret…” The man groaned, clutching his wound, “not checking my weapons carefully before I came here.”

His voice was laced with a tremor of fear, a stark contrast to his earlier bravado.

“I can’t believe it,” he stammered. “The gun backfired.”

Seeing Chen Yu approach as he spoke, the man’s eyes widened in terror.

He scrambled backward, desperately trying to put some distance between them.

Regret, a suffocating wave of it, washed over him.

He’d believed his extensive experience would guarantee an easy kill against a mere fortune teller.

Coupled with his meticulous planning, he’d envisioned a swift execution.

Who could have foreseen a malfunctioning weapon throwing a wrench into his carefully laid plans?

Chen Yu slowly extended his finger, and the man felt his legs seize up, refusing to obey his commands.

Trapped, the man could only watch in horror as Chen Yu calmly crossed his arms and turned his gaze toward the locked door.

A few minutes later, the wail of police sirens pierced the air, growing louder with each passing second.

Li Changjun, at the head of a large contingent of officers, burst into the treatment room like a battering ram.

The sight that greeted them was a stark contrast to the commotion outside.

Chen Yu stood unharmed, a faint, enigmatic smile playing on his lips.

On the other hand, the assassin presented a horrifying picture.

His right palm was blackened and mangled, the source of multiple gruesome wounds.

Fresh blood poured from his shoulder blade, staining the floor crimson. The excessive blood loss had drained all color from his face, leaving him pale as a ghost.

“Dr. Chen, how are you? Are you injured?” Li Changjun recovered from his initial shock and rushed to Chen Yu’s side, his voice laced with concern.

“As you can see, I’m perfectly fine,” Chen Yu replied with a smile.

“This man,” he continued, gesturing towards the whimpering figure on the floor, “has over twenty cases under his belt, with more than half committed internationally.”

“Good heavens! More than twenty cases?” Li Changjun exclaimed, staring at the seemingly ordinary-looking man in disbelief.

He never would have suspected such a dark history lurking beneath that unassuming exterior.

“Captain,” one of the officers interjected, “he’s losing a lot of blood. Should we get him to the hospital first?”

“Leave a few men to secure the scene,” Li Changjun ordered. “The rest of you, get him to the hospital immediately. Remember, maintain a tight guard. This one’s a high-risk prisoner. No escape attempts, and no funny business with self-harm.”

Shortly after, the officers hauled the whimpering assassin away in a police car. Li Changjun then led Chen Yu upstairs for a private conversation.

“Dr. Chen,” Li Changjun began, his voice taking on a serious tone, “assassins are hired to eliminate problems for their clients. It’s highly likely someone paid this man to come after you today.”

“Can you analyze anything about his employer?”

Chen Yu’s response was cryptic. “Tomorrow afternoon, be at the entrance of my shop with your men. I’ll lead you straight to the employer. Consider it a chance to earn some serious credit, Captain.”

He winked. “Maybe even enough for a white shirt before you hit forty.”

“White shirt?!” Li Changjun’s eyes bulged in surprise. As the head of the special task force, a promotion to first governor was considered young and promising. But a white shirt before forty? That was a dream come true, an achievement worthy of ancestral worship!

“Why?” Chen Yu chuckled, his amusement evident. “Do you think you have too much credit and want to share it with someone else?”

“Dr. Chen, you jest,” Li Changjun countered, sheepish.

“In this line of work, who would complain about having too much credit? Only a fool would give someone else a chance to bring honor to their family!”

“Alright, alright,” Chen Yu conceded with a smile.

Li Changjun hurriedly added, “Noon tomorrow then. I will be here with my entire squad. Dr.. Chen, is that alright?”