Rescue

  "Spare me, I used to look down on those people being chased in the videos, thinking they were a bit too stupid. Who would have thought that I'd end up like this? Looking around at the greyish-white walls with peeling paint, the damp floor with water seeping in, the rusty furniture scattered with broken parts, and feeling the hard bed board beneath me, the young man couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh."

  I just took out the three bullets from my body by myself. Although I relied on my good reflexes, those bullets only wounded my muscles and didn't hit any bones or tendons. However, the consequence of massive blood loss is that I can only lie here like a dead dog, waiting for my energy to recover bit by bit. If it weren't for my physical constitution being far superior to ordinary people, and my willpower being hundreds of times stronger, I'm afraid I would have died long ago.

  A bullet grazed his left shoulder, passing close to the collarbone. Luckily, he had good luck; if he had dodged a fraction of a second later, his carotid artery would have been severed on the spot. What the hell was wrong with him? He had just gotten a two-week vacation in London and yet he still managed to get himself into trouble. The intel from that "Rogue" group was accurate, but it was too reckless for him to charge into the British Ministry of Defence alone. Although he got the data, he lost contact with his superiors and peers; damn it, when he gets back, he'll definitely be punished with two months of survival training in the southern rainforest.

  I hope British agents won't find me so soon, oh heaven, give me seven days and that's enough, seven days, I should be able to recover a bit of energy...

  I hope the owner of this godforsaken dive has a good reputation, as he claims. He swore that three internationally wanted fugitives had once taken refuge here. Damn it, no choice now, let's bet our lives on it.

  Quietly closing his eyes, he lightly took a breath, and with great difficulty, the internal energy that had been built up since childhood was raised. It circulated laboriously in his numb meridians due to blood loss.

  Two agents in neat suits got out of a car, carefully walked through the pedestrian path full of potholes and puddles, and entered the reception hall of less than eight square meters. One agent lightly knocked on the corner table and asked the boss inside: "Is there anyone strange?"

  It's been a long time since he responded, the fat boss who looked like a pig after drinking a lot of beer, with a bright red face that seemed to be oozing blood, continued to lie on the table, making a slight snoring sound, sleeping comfortably.

  Two young agents changed their faces, heavily pounding the table with a loud "boom", the boss suddenly jumped up, quickly pulled out an old revolver and loudly shouted: "Damn it, you two dog-raised... Ah ha, sir, what can I do for you? I'm happy to serve you..." Seeing the ID cards in the hands of the two agents, the boss's gun miraculously disappeared, and he put on a noble face, bowing repeatedly with an ugly expression.

  "Is there anyone suspicious around? We're tracking a guy who's been shot."

  Upstairs, he quickly got up from his meditation and grabbed his gun. The sudden movement pulled on the wound on his body, causing severe pain, and he couldn't help but let out a few muffled groans. His vision blurred with golden stars, and he fell weakly onto the bedboard, silently cursing in his heart. A spasm at the wound site made even his robust body like a fierce tiger feel dizzy from the pain.

  The boss downstairs pretended to be mysterious, shrugging his shoulders and wiggling the fat on his body. He smiled slyly and said: "Sir, people who have been shot? Oh, yes, yes, there are three of them." He lowered his voice mysteriously: "Oh, officer, you must be looking for them, right? I took one look at them and knew they weren't good people. Pfft, three Eastern Europeans with holes all over their bodies - what did they do? Hmm? I'm a law-abiding citizen, I'll definitely cooperate with your work."

  Two agents furrowed their brows, Eastern Europeans? Three of them?

  The boss smiled obsequiously, his right hand's three fingers lightly rubbed together, and he raised an eyebrow at the two agents with a flirtatious expression, as if a playboy was winking at a stunning beauty. He said in a low voice: "Sir, just a little reward is enough, I'm not greedy... How much are they offering? I only need 20% of the reward..."

  The two agents exchanged a disappointed glance, but out of duty, they felt they still had to go and investigate the room. Hmm. The two looked at the stairs, which were just wide enough for two people to squeeze past each other, black and oily with an unknown sticky substance on the steps, and their hearts churned with hesitation.

  The boss smiled secretly and nodded, saying: "Sir, I have more than 40 guests here now. Ah, they are all standard good people, except for those few who smashed a pile of cash on me yesterday... Hehe, shall I show you the way? They are in the fifth room on the left hand side of the third floor."

  The two agents exchanged a glance, and from upstairs came down an impressive figure, the boss's standard, all-around man.

  A woman with a large pompadour, her hair dyed blood red, heavily made up with deep green eye shadow, false eyelashes over two centimeters long, a plump chest, thick thighs, and a protruding belly, her mouth resembling a pig's snout that had just sucked blood, walked down from upstairs wearing a nearly transparent silk dress. On her thick fingers, a low-quality cigar emitted a strong foul odor, her bright red nail polish looking like congealed blood.

  The woman took a glance at the two handsome young agents, let out a soft whistle and flashed a radiant smile. She naturally drew closer to them, and suddenly a pungent perfume wafted over. The woman asked in a gentle voice: "Two handsome guys, it's almost dark, how about taking care of my business? One is fine, or you can both come at the same time... Oh, twenty pounds or twenty-five euros each, are you using pounds or euros?"

  The boss nodded and bowed beside him, saying: "Haha, two gentlemen, Marisa is a bit older, but her skills are very good, people in the circle are happy to find her."

  Two agents forcibly restrained the vomiting Desire Wang, hastily saying: "Boss, if you see a tall and wounded young Oriental in the future, please notify us at Military Intelligence Bureau Six immediately... Oh God." The two fled in disarray. That woman, that damn low-class prostitute, was actually a man; the two poor little agents clearly saw his Adam's apple on his neck.

  No wonder the boss said that people in the "circle" are willing to find him, no wonder he used "him" instead of "her". The boss smiled and shouted behind his back: "Don't worry, sir, I'm happy to serve His Majesty... Hehe." The boss thought to himself, it seems that this kid is quite valuable, and when the time comes, he will have to be heavily rewarded.

  He let out a yawn, and the boss's gaze turned to Marisa, saying viciously: "Damn it, two fledglings who just graduated from a noble school... Marisa, good luck to you today, damn it, you owe me two weeks' rent."

  Marissa gazed at the boss with a pitiful expression, blinking her big eyes and said: "Dear, I've been unlucky lately, I've lived here for three years, when have I ever owed rent? Hmm? ... I have a good proposal, why don't we make a deal, instead of that rent, how about it? Your figure isn't bad either...". Marissa looked up and down at the boss's plump figure with a flirtatious smile, and chuckled.

  The boss's whole body shook with fat, shaking his head repeatedly: "Forget it, forget it, give you another month, damn it, I'm not a homo."

  Marissa gave a quick peck on the cheek, giggling and saying: "Well, goodbye, dear, I'll imagine my first client to be you... Oh, lovely darling." With a light cat-like step, Marissa swayed her robust buttocks as she walked out. Just as she reached the door, several burly men with menacing faces came in, glared at him fiercely and growled in a low voice: "Get out, you bitch."

  Marissa shuddered all over, hastily leaning against the wall, and after these seven disheveled, alcohol-soaked men swaggered into the reception hall, she carefully slipped out along the edge, quickly walking away with a look of panic, muttering under her breath: "God, God bless you, boss, who did you offend?"

  Just sat down, ready to make up for the nap just now, the boss suddenly stood up like a fire burning his buttocks, and came forward with a smile, took out a few cigarettes and handed them over, saying in a low voice: "Ah, gentlemen, what can I do for you? I've already paid this month's fee to Bao Li, I never owe any money."

  The big Han who led the way scanned the store, snorted a few times, and swaggered over, as if he had given the boss a great honor by taking the cigarette from his hand and handing it to his companions behind him. He asked in a low voice, "Does he think we're those trash who collect protection fees? They can't even afford to suck my cock... The big boss wants to find someone, an Oriental man about 180 centimeters tall with short hair, you know, the kind with yellow skin and black hair, with three or four gunshot wounds on his body."

  The boss's face changed slightly, and in less than 0.5 seconds, several big men had already sneered and surrounded him, staring at him with ill intentions: "Oh, dear darling, you know a little bit of news, don't you? Hmm? Be good, tell us, the big boss ordered Charley, Charley ordered Scott, and Scott told us that if anyone dares to delay the big boss's search for someone, he can go dig mines in Africa."

  Seven knives with bloodstains and unidentified attachments appeared, the leader of the group said in a loud voice: "Darling, I hope you don't have a daughter, otherwise I'd be happy to rape her... including your wife, even if she's too old and ugly, those illegal workers from Africa would be more than happy to take turns playing with a white old lady."

  The boss was drenched in sweat, almost collapsing to the ground. He knew exactly what it meant to be a top-notch big shot - the one who controlled the entire London underworld and whom no one dared to offend. Ugh, for a reward of just 1,000 euros, why did he have to put his life on the line? Special agents were easy to deal with; if something went wrong, those gentlemen wouldn't bother him, a small fry like himself. But these people in front of him were different - their only pleasure was making life difficult for small fries like himself. The boss had no doubt they would make good on their promises.

  "Fourth floor, third room on the right... He's inside... You'd better not startle him, he's got a weapon, I saw it."

  Seven big men were overjoyed, whispering and laughing secretly for a few sentences, leaving four people to guard the store, while the other three rushed out.

  After ten minutes, he woke up, struggled, and grasped the corner of the bedside table with a trembling hand. He stood up with great effort, carefully pressed the small alloy container tied to his body, which was about the size of a thumb, and gently pushed open the door and walked out.

  He floated up, like a ghostly cat making no sound with his footsteps, to the second floor staircase. He sneaked a peek at the store below and was surprised to see four more people. His heart sank, and he instinctively followed the escape route he had planned out when he came in. Just three steps later, he stopped and beads of cold sweat seeped out on his forehead: "Damn it, with my current physical strength, I won't be able to safely make it down the fire escape... And damn it, they must have someone at the back, maybe breaking through from the front would be easier."

  He thought and did, he stepped down the stairs with small steps, his left hand gently pressing against that small container of doom, walking slowly to the end of the stairs, his feet already in the most advantageous position for exerting force.

  Four big men saw him, their faces slightly changed, the leading big man immediately walked over, stretched out his hand to touch his shoulder, and said in a low voice: "Sir, please don't run around everywhere, our boss is looking for you." Before he finished speaking, the big man only felt that his right hand was subjected to an irresistible force, his body flew out more than three meters like a cloud, and heavily fell on the sidewalk with a 'slap', let out a strange cry, almost fainting, and for a while couldn't get up again.

  The other three people stared at the young man in a windbreaker with their eyes wide open, but it was just a light flick of his right hand and then a turn, how did their boss fly out? And fell into a puddle of dirty water, getting intimate with two dead rats.

  The young man revealed a threatening expression, glaring fiercely at the boss and three big men, slowly walking towards the door. Hmm, across the street, two women who were almost naked got out of a taxi, just in time to get on and leave, maybe needing to take care of the driver... Hoping he still had the strength later, earlier a small "Moyun Hand" had already exhausted the little internal energy that had been barely accumulated, now his muscles, bones, and internal organs were all screaming in agony, hoping there was still power, just a little bit, as long as it was enough.

  Young people's minds are almost blank, after making a plan, they just act on instinct. He moved his body slowly like a zombie and let out a cry: "Taxi." Then he waved at the taxi about 7 or 8 meters away.

  The three big men rushed, if this kid ran away, damn it, not to mention the reward can't be taken, Mr. Khalili will skin Scott's old master, and Scott's old master will definitely kill himself first... They rushed up and blocked the young man: "Hey, kid, listen, follow us obediently, we have no malice."

  No malice? Don't be ridiculous. The taxi across the street had turned around and driven to the entrance of the small shop, but after seeing the situation inside the store, the driver hesitated for a moment, then slowly started the car and quickly drove away.

  The young man's heart was in a hurry, and he pushed one hand out. The three big men hastily dodged, then rushed up, seven or eight hands tightly wrapped around him, and the leading big man who was still lying on the ground excitedly burst out laughing: "Ha, little boy, you can't escape, damn it."

  The young man's wound was squeezed, and he could even feel the blood flowing out of the wound. It hurts, it hurts so much... A burst of fury in his heart, damn it, I'm going to fight you all to the death.

  He didn't say anything, and suddenly he let out a loud roar: "Get out of my way!" The last word seemed to explode in the ears of the three big men like thunder. They were stunned for a moment, and then they felt that what they were holding was no longer a person, but a hand grenade that was about to explode. A massive force like an electric shock hit them, and the three men spat out blood and flew backward.

  The young man's mouthful of blood spurted even more, further away, and his entire body seemed to be about to burst out. He could no longer see anything, and his ears were filled with a buzzing sound, only the words of the leader of the "Wandering Soul" group still echoing: "What kind of thing is this superweapon jointly developed by nine top military-industrial enterprises from the US and UK? Dammit, are you guys coming alone? If more people came, it would be better, dammit, I don't have enough manpower to steal the data now."

  Damn it, didn't I already get the materials out by myself? The materials, yes, the materials need to be delivered, otherwise I'd have died for nothing.

  In the distance, it seemed like a car was coming over, was it a taxi? Before he could even think about this question clearly, he had already pulled out a bill and lightly waved it around, got in the car, and headed to the outskirts of town. He killed the driver, walked a bit further away, survived in the wilderness, treated his injuries through qigong, and transferred the information out... A mouthful of blood spurted out, but he had already instinctively come up with an escape plan.

  Three long black cars drove over, not taxis, so they had nothing to do with him. Like a wooden puppet, the young man swayed and walked towards the end of this small fork in the road. Taxi, taxi... these three words kept swirling in his head.

  The doors of three black cars opened, and a dozen or so black men in black suits with an air of ferocity walked down neatly and slowly surrounded him.

  The young man's mind suddenly cleared, his bloodshot eyes fixed intently on these people, and he thought to himself: "Damn it, are they military personnel? Doesn't seem like it, can't be that not a single white person is among them... damn it, what kind of people are they after all?"

  A head of fiery red short hair, a tattered and worn-out denim outfit that could be thrown into the trash heap, a pair of outdated Nike sneakers that were at least two years old, with a lazy and malicious expression on his face. A young man didn't care about the puddle of dirty water by the car door and stepped out with one foot.

  Immediately after, another young punk, wearing only a beach shorts and slippers, with his upper body completely bare, sneaked out with a sly look on his face. He also didn't care about the dead mouse by the car door and stepped on it with one foot.

  On both of their hands, um, high-end cannabis leaves, produced in South America, with markings belonging to Colombia's largest guerrilla group...

  Gangster, not secret agent.

  The young man's heart slightly relaxed, stubbornly maintaining a thread of clarity in his mind. He slowly and carefully wiped past Chekhov and Jest's shoulders. Jest's right hand quickly grabbed his right wrist, the young man was startled by the speed. With a reverse hand movement, his wrist slightly trembling, three fingers clawed towards Jest's wrist pulse.

  A shocking thing happened to the young man, Jester's wrist seemed like a snake, winding around his own fingers and grasping his own pulse tightly. Then, a hot flow rushed into his body along his meridians, and the true energy inside him was empty, without any resistance. This warm water-like true energy actually circulated nine times in his body, and those damaged meridians by bullets were almost cheering to welcome this power full of vitality.

  Funny, absurd, you're kidding... Maybe overseas there are special agents who study China's qigong, but even if they could practice to this level, damn it, they wouldn't believe it themselves. The young man was stunned and couldn't say a word...

  Kane, extremely tall and muscular, wearing a black tight-fitting T-shirt that exposed his iron-like muscles, jumped out of the car along with Jester and Chekhov. He casually threw a few stacks of cash at the four big men who were still lying on the ground, groaning in pain. Then, pointing at the three messengers standing nearby, he said: "You guys, get out of the country for now, come back in half a year... An hour later, if you're still in London and I see you, I'll take care of you. Come back in half a year."

  Three big men didn't dare say more and helped up the lightly injured Old Big, supporting three companions with more serious injuries as they scurried away.

  Cain casually tossed a stack of cash into the store and growled in a low voice, "Mind your foul mouth, got it?"

  The boss was so scared that he almost knelt on the ground, hastily nodded, and then his greedy eyes looked at the stack of cash worth over 20,000 yuan.

  Chekhov muttered a few indistinct words in Chinese: "Zhang? Ghost?"

  The young man gave up the idea of resisting, and in fact, he was powerless to resist Jester. After Jester's true yuan force surged into his body, it had almost taken control of all his actions. And... Zhang? Ghost? It should be a wandering soul, right?

  Jester dragged the young man onto the car and whispered: "Kain, don't waste any more money, take out that old boss."

  Cain thought for a moment, then casually pulled out a dagger and threw it out. The boss who was picking up the money on the ground suddenly felt a chill, and the dagger had already been inserted from his head to his body.

  Cain waved his hand, and all the subordinates got on the car and whizzed away. Chikov secretly ejected a blade from the window and cut off the throat of a vagrant who was curled up in the corner of the wall and witnessed everything.

  Jester nodded and said in a low voice: "Alright, I didn't find anyone else who saw all this, it should be safe."

  "Ha ha ha ha ha! Why don't we just blow up the whole street to be sure?"

  Jester and Cain exchanged a look, ignoring him.

  Kane asked the young man in a low voice, "Please relax, we are friends. Zhang has called our boss to find you... Zhang is waiting for you at our old haunt, can you hold on?"

  Young people at this moment have a fullness of true yuan in their bodies, and they are lively as if they were soaking in a warm water. The wound was stimulated by Jester's true yuan and has begun to heal at a speed that is more than ten times faster than usual. He lightly raised his true energy, and under the influence of Jester's true yuan, the true energy flowed unimpeded through the meridians, and his vitality gradually recovered. He nodded: "Hmm, thank you, I'm much better, it should be fine now."

  "Hey, don't be too careless. You're currently relying on my power to support you. If I let go now, you'll definitely pass out and never wake up again. Go back to your old nest, get two bags of plasma injected, and have a few shots of antibiotics. Only then will your life be guaranteed."

  Chekhov laughed: "Jester, you son of a bitch, you could go be a doctor now."

  Jie Si let out a cold hum: "Back then, when the boss and I were on the streets and almost got killed by someone, it was like this that we managed to save ourselves."

  Chekhov spat and said nothing.

  Yi Chen is currently in the living room of "China Town" entertaining Sakura, he smiled and said: "Sakura young master, I think, I have some business to discuss with you."

  Sakura looked at Yidun with curiosity: "Yi, aren't we cooperating in business now?"

  "No, no, no, it's not the same, that was a big deal, this time I just made some extra pocket money... Yeah, just a little extra pocket money..."