195: Infinity symbol tutoring class

For three whole days.

Lin Feng and Wang Dalong seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth, never taking a single step out of the hotel's penthouse suite.

The security team, elites of the Cavendish Family, had turned the place into a safehouse as solid as an iron bucket.

"I feel like I'm about to grow mushrooms..." Wang Dalong slumped on the sofa, clutching a game controller, the screen filled with brilliant explosion effects, but his face was written with utter despair. "Brother Feng, what on earth are we waiting for? Do those guys outside really think they can blow up the hotel with a missile?"

Lin Feng didn't even look up, his fingers tapping rapidly across the keyboard of a military-grade encrypted laptop.

On the screen, rows of obscure German characters and complex code flowed past.

He was cracking the encrypted files brought back from the Libya base, which contained the most primitive secrets of "Ouroboros."

"Waiting for them to let their guard down," Lin Feng's voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.

The communicator in the suite rang punctually every two hours, carrying the steady voice of the security captain.

"Report: No suspicious surveillance points found on the hotel perimeter."

"Report: Background checks on the guests are complete; no individuals associated with known threats have been found."

"Report: Communication monitoring in the target area is normal; no suspicious encrypted signals intercepted."

The enemy, after that brutal probe in North Africa, had completely retreated and hidden in the shadows.

They were like a group of the most patient hunters, waiting for their prey to reveal a weakness.

Not until the morning of the fourth day, as sunlight spilled into the room through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, did Lin Feng finally snap the laptop shut with a "clack."

He stood up and stretched his somewhat stiff neck.

"Let's go."

"Huh?!" Wang Dalong jolted up from the sofa, half a slice of pizza still stuffed in his mouth, asking indistinctly, "Where to, Brother Feng?"

"To work."

Half an hour later.

In the La Boca district in the south of Buenos Aires, the streets were surging with crowds.

Lin Feng and Wang Dalong had changed into the most ordinary tourist attire—T-shirts, jeans, and baseball caps—blending inconspicuously into the bustling crowd.

This was the soul of the city.

The multi-colored tin houses were painted in various vibrant hues, looking exceptionally dazzling in the sunlight. Street artists splashed their inspiration across the walls, while passionate tango dancers intertwined at street corners as if no one else were there. The air was filled with the aroma of roasted meat and a rich artistic flavor.

Lin Feng was deaf to the surrounding noise and bustle.

He carefully took out the yellowed and aged black-and-white family portrait from his pocket.

In one corner of the photo, that young German officer stood in a similar block, with unique tin houses behind him and a brilliant smile on his face that could melt ice and snow.

"Can we really find this place?" Wang Dalong leaned in for a look and couldn't help but curl his lip. "This neighborhood is like a maze, and the houses all look the same. Isn't this like looking for a needle in a haystack?"

"The skeleton of a building doesn't change easily."

As Lin Feng spoke, he held up the small photo and slowly navigated through the maze-like alleys.

His eyes were like a high-precision 3D scanner, constantly performing high-speed comparisons, modeling, and overlapping the background in the photo with the real-life scenes.

The colors of the walls had long since changed, and the styles of the doors and windows had been replaced through several generations; some houses had even been renovated or completely collapsed.

However, that unique roof angle, the fixed spacing between those few windows, the natural curve of that street corner... these things were imprints carved into the city's skeleton, fingerprints that time could not easily erase.

Wang Dalong followed behind Lin Feng, going from enthusiastic at first to bored, and finally to completely frantic.

Just as Wang Dalong felt he was about to collapse the next second, Lin Feng, walking ahead, suddenly stopped.

He stood at an inconspicuous street corner.

Before them was a two-story tin shack painted sky blue, looking utterly ordinary. On the second floor was an old balcony with ironwork in a spiral pattern on the railing, rusty and full of the marks of time.

Lin Feng slowly raised the black-and-white photo.

In the photo, the young officer with the incredibly bright smile had a balcony in his background as well, with the exact same spiral ironwork pattern on its railing.

Although the photo had faded and the real house had been painted several times.

But that unique detail, as irreplicable as human DNA, perfectly overlapped after eighty years!

This was the place!

"Holy crap..." Wang Dalong said in surprise, "You... you actually found it?!"

Finding the starting point was equivalent to finding the end of the thread.

Lin Feng put away the photo and began to observe the neighborhood carefully.

Just as the intelligence had said, this area was a gathering place for early European immigrants and still retained a strong European flavor. Fair-haired, blue-eyed Caucasians could be seen everywhere on the streets, speaking spanish with heavy accents and living leisurely, looking no different from ordinary Argentines.

Lin Feng and Wang Dalong spent the entire afternoon wandering around like two ordinary tourists.

They saw churches, community centers, and pubs and bakeries with German signs.

However, they found no trace of anything related to the so-called "new religion" or "cult."

Everything was too normal.

"Brother Feng, could we have been wrong?" Wang Dalong sat down on a roadside bench, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Maybe those guys are just ordinary Nazi descendants with extreme ideas, but they haven't actually formed any religious organization?"

Lin Feng didn't answer.

His gaze swept over every sign and symbol along the street, not missing a single detail that might hide a clue.

As the sky gradually darkened, the shops along the street lit their dim yellow lights, casting a gentle veil over the ancient street.

Just as they were preparing to return empty-handed and reconsider their plan back at the hotel, Lin Feng's footsteps stopped once more.

He froze in place like a statue that had just had its pressure points struck.

His gaze was firmly glued to a three-story building diagonally across from them.

It was a very ordinary-looking building, neither grand nor dilapidated, blending into the colorful houses around it.

Wang Dalong followed his gaze, his face full of confusion.

"What's wrong, Brother Feng? Isn't that just a tutoring center?"

Above the building's entrance hung a well-crafted wooden sign with an elegant artistic font in both spanish and German.

"Boca Elite Academy—The Bridge to the Future."

This didn't seem strange; many immigrant communities had similar language or cultural schools established so that the younger generation wouldn't forget their roots.

What was strange was the meticulously designed logo in the center of the sign.

It was a symbol connected end-to-end, with smooth and elegant lines, resembling a horizontal number "8."

Infinity.