As dusk approached, a beat-up van pulled into a deserted garage.
After the awkward mess of firing guns wildly inside his own car earlier, nothing could convince Lu Feng to use his family vehicle for work again.
Fortunately, before departing, their three helpful kidnapper friends had generously loaned out their own ride, telling them to drive it wherever and for as long as they liked.
And so, Lu Feng skillfully navigated Ji Jue through Yacheng, arriving at a dilapidated, standalone building that looked long overdue for repairs.
Before the van had even ground to a complete halt, his head poked out the window, flashing a brilliant, utterly obsequious smile at the scarred woman leaning by the entrance.
"Layla, uh, so..."
He bobbed his head and rubbed his hands together. "Got any guns left?"
Layla fell silent for a long moment, drawing a deep breath.
Then, for the next ten whole minutes, Ji Jue received a comprehensive demonstration of just how magnificent the fine art of the Federation tongue could be.
She was practically a master researcher of street slang and folklore, a national-level champion of oral gymnastics. In that entire torrent of profanity, not a single curse was repeated!
"Do you remember that just a few hours ago, some fucking bastard told me he wanted to live a life without guns?!"
Layla swung a vicious slap across Lu Feng's forehead, followed immediately by another. "Do you think I'm running a supermarket here? We're a security company, big brother, not a syndicate of hitmen! We haven't even hung up the damn sign yet—are you worried I'm not dying fast enough?!"
"Didn't we manage just fine last—"
"You've got the fucking nerve to bring that up?!"
Layla's temper flared further, unleashing a mother-laced barrage of greetings and furious rebukes. "You stirred up such a huge mess last time! Do you have any idea how close the Security Bureau came to knocking down my door if I hadn't offloaded the goods in time?!"
"Well, they didn't come in the end, did they? I told you I had it handled."
Shamelessly sidling up to her, Lu Feng slung an arm over her shoulder. "Come on, do me a favor. Desperate times, desperate times! Once this is settled, I'll definitely... uh, definitely work like an ox, toil like a horse, and repay your grace to the bone."
Layla buried a fist into his gut. "Why the fuck don't you offer to marry me while you're at it?"
"Uh..." Lu Feng hesitated. "I'm... afraid of the dark..."
At once, roaring laughter erupted from several burly men near the doorway. Only Layla's slightly dark complexion shifted to an iron blue, and without a second thought, she gifted him a pair of matching black eyes.
Blood was even trickling from his nose.
"Damn it, meeting you was eight lifetimes of bad luck!"
Still not entirely satisfied, she planted a kick on him before turning and walking inside.
Lu Feng scrambled to his feet as if nothing had happened, waving for Ji Jue to follow. As he passed the doorway, he casually greeted the muscle-bound thugs and introduced him, "This is my little brother. Keep your eyes sharp next time you see him."
"Oh, Number Two!"
"Hey there, Number Two."
"Drop by when you have time, kid. We'll take you shooting. It's a blast!"
Amid their greetings, Lu Feng sneered inwardly. God only knew what they were planning. Go shooting? The kid had picked up a gun for the first time today and nailed all four shots on a moving target at fifty meters. If any blind fool tried gambling with him, they'd better be ready to lose the shirts off their backs.
Without treating them like outsiders in the slightest, the group led them straight into the basement equipment room. Prying back two sections of wall panelling, they revealed what lay behind—a dense, dazzling armory!
Ji Jue's eyes went wide.
*You're telling me this is a security company? What kind of security company packs this many automatic weapons into storage?* From pistols to rifles to shotguns, practically every model he had ever seen in books was right here.
At the very front, Layla, scowling sourly, laid out her entire stockpile.
"Take what you need and get the hell out. Nothing good ever happens when you show up," she said coldly, crossing her arms.
"Whoa, Brother Feng," Ji Jue whispered. "At this point, you really can't justify not marrying her to clear your debt."
"Shut the fuck up."
Lu Feng smacked the back of his head in annoyance and swaggered inside to go 'shopping,' leaving Ji Jue standing alone, looking left, touching right, fascinated by everything.
Especially when he spotted a rotary turret press tucked away in a corner... Seriously, wasn't this retired veterans' club just a little too well-equipped?
Even with all this, Lu Feng was still grumbling and nitpicking, complaining that they lacked this and didn't have that. Finally, he shook his head. "I thought you'd at least have a suit of power armor."
"Power armor your mother's ass!" Layla exploded. "If I had power armor, the first thing I'd do is crush your head like a grape!"
Lu Feng shook his head. "Ah, look at you, getting worked up again."
"Lu, you bastard, I'll..."
Just as the two were about to slip into their customary bickering and brawling, Ji Jue's voice cut in.
"Sister Layla, can I borrow this?"
Only a moment ago, when he had instinctively reached out with his ability, he had sensed an unprecedentedly intense resonance. It was like a sudden shout crashing against his ears, completely drowning out all other background noise—like a dying man buried in mud, clinging to his last gasps of breath, roaring with all his might, refusing to accept the final silence.
In the stillness, it struck like thunder.
Right on the wall's display rack!
A menacing weapon, caked in dust, looking as though no one had touched it in ages.
Following the direction of his finger, Lu Feng sucked in a sharp breath.
"Holy shit, you actually have one?"
A Mammoth Mark II Anchor Assault Rifle, proudly produced by Sentinel Industries. Renowned for decades, it had carved out an endless trail of bloodshed and slaughter.
But the catch was, this thing wasn't meant for human hands at all!
It was a dedicated weapon module designed for standard military exoskeleton power armor!
Even though its paint job and appearance had been modified, Lu Feng recognized it at a single glance.
"When I bought stock from the Mid-Continent, a local tribe threw it in as a freebie. It's already scrapped," Layla said, shaking her head. "Kid, you can't use that. It'll blow up in your face."
"Don't worry, it won't,"
Ji Jue smiled. "At least, not when I use it today."
Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out the portable spiritus probe.
After studying alchemy for so long, he had finally found a place to put it to work...
***
They had arrived empty-handed, but they left loaded to the brim. The two of them hauled long guns, short pieces, and boxes of ammunition—so much that Ji Jue could barely carry his share.
Watching her collection and reserves being cleaned out in under fifteen minutes by these two scoundrels, Layla's face darkened further. She shadowed them step for step, terrified they might pilfer even more good stuff.
Only when their beaten-up van vanished into the distance did she breathe a sigh of relief.
"Hey, they're gone just like that?" A burly man missing part of his middle finger poked his head out. "He sounded so resolute last time, I thought there was no hope."
"Him?"
Layla couldn't help but let out a cold laugh. "That bastard puts on one act after another, but who doesn't know what kind of animal he really is?"
*Live a quiet, peaceful life?*
*Are you really that kind of person, Lu Feng?*
Even after all these years, she still couldn't forget the first time she had laid eyes on him. Amid billowing plumes of smoke, inside a shell crater blasted open by the Empire, sat a man smoking a cigarette atop a pile of corpses.
It had clearly been his first time on a battlefield, yet there had been no fear in him—only that calm, cheerful smile.
Almost as if... he were coming home.
"He'll be back sooner or later," Layla said softly. "He can't put the gun down."
Just as a man couldn't simply forget how to breathe.
***
"Damn, that almost choked me to death."
In the passenger seat, Lu Feng finally caught his breath. "Hauling out that much gear, I thought that old cheapskate Layla was going to snap. Turns out your face carries some real weight, Xiao Ji!"
"My face carries crap!"
Ji Jue rolled his eyes. "Don't you know whose face she was giving all this to? Use those invincible pecs of yours to think for a second, Brother Feng—what could she possibly want from me? Does she fancy my car-repair skills?"
"Maybe! When you whipped out that probe thing and did your trick, her eyes lit right up." Lu Feng draped an arm over his shoulder and instructed, "If she asks you to do work for her down the line, don't you dare quote a low price! I'll dig up a military repair rate sheet for you later—we'll bill her by the book!"
*Military? Rate sheet?*
*You mean the one where a single coffee cup costs over two thousand Imperial dollars a pop?!*
*And you want to pull that on your savior? A savior who's saved you twice...*
Ji Jue looked at Lu Feng in utter shock, his expression filling with profound admiration. "You really are a piece of work, Brother Feng!"
"Watch your mouth, brat!"
"Shh—"
Ji Jue suddenly raised a hand, cutting him off. "Call's coming in."
One of the three phones taken from the kidnappers lit up, flashing the caller's name: Brother Ming.
Judging from the files on the phone, he had to be the ringleader of that crew.
Scar Ming.
Once the line connected, an irritable voice barked from the speaker: "What the hell happened? Why are you only..."
"Hello? Brother Ming, we got him!"
In Ji Jue's grip, the phone dutifully projected the original owner's voice, delivering a jubilant report: "We grabbed him! Nabbed that kid along with him too! Ha, walked right into our laps!"
"What did you say?!"
The voice on the other end faltered, stunned. "You got that kid too?"
"Yeah! We barely drove down the road when the kid came chasing after us, looking to pick a fight with the boys. Fourth Brother swung a pipe right into the back of his head, dropped him cold."
Amid the slightly chaotic background noise, another voice suddenly spoke up: "Turn on the video and let me see!"
The call clicked off, and a video request came through immediately.
Naturally, all the camera could see was an overjoyed face, two injured men, and Ji Jue lying half-dead in the cargo bed.
Yet the face visible on the screen made Ji Jue slightly startle.
That scruffy, half-dead look...
He had seen that very man just this morning!
Was this the Qi Qin mentioned in the text messages?
"Bring him back first!" After confirming it was indeed Ji Jue, Qi Qin's eyes blazed. "Bring him straight to the office. The boss is already prepared!"
"Should we just finish him off?" Ji Jue asked tentatively.
"I'll finish off your mother!" Qi Qin's tone snapped, raising his voice sharply. "Bring him back to me in one piece, you hear me?! If he loses a single hair... Damn it, just keep him as he is right now! Nothing else can happen to him, understand?!"
"Yes, yes, of course! We'll be right there!"
The fake face on the call put on a groveling smile.
Once the call ended, only silence remained in the quiet cab.
Lu Feng calmly tuned the weapons in his hands: one pistol, two submachine guns, and one shotgun. He worked carefully, methodically, down to the finest detail. Only after checking and adjusting every single weapon in the duffel bag did he slowly raise his head.
A smile appeared on his face.
Yet it was completely different from his usual grin—cold, vicious, like a beast catching the scent of blood, eager to feast.
"Ready, Xiao Ji?"
"Ready or not, am I supposed to let you go in alone?"
Ji Jue rolled his eyes, raising a hand with a battle cry: "Burn his whole family, beat his mom!"
Lu Feng's smile broadened with wicked delight.
"Burn his whole family, beat his mom!!!"
With a deep, low rumble from the engine, the van roared forward down the asphalt like thunder.
And so, to the festive melody of "Good Fortune Comes" blaring from the radio, they sped straight toward the dazzling neon lights.
In the distance, night was just beginning to fall.
Chapter 43