The doors of the three modified vehicles were kicked open almost simultaneously, and a dark mass of figures swarmed out, numbering at least a dozen or two dozen people.

  Most of them wore tattered jackets left open, revealing burly muscles covered in fierce tattoos.

  The weapons in their hands glinted menacingly:

  The majority gripped rusted iron rods and shovels with notched edges, the shovel heads gleaming coldly in the dim light.

  Four or five others held old-style rifles, their barrels crudely reinforced with tape and miscellaneous parts, the dark muzzles pointed squarely at the refrigerated truck, exuding a brutal, menacing aura.

  The leader, a scar-faced man, spat on the ground, slung his rifle over his shoulder, and swept his eyes over the cab with undisguised malice.

  Gunnar's brow furrowed deeply.

  Goddamn it, speak of the devil.

  He and Michael exchanged a glance, both their eyes filled with tension—they were just temporary employees pulled in to fill the quota.

  Gunnar was there because he could fight;

  Michael was there because he happened to be around.

  Who would have thought this delivery run would encounter a robbery of this scale?

  Gunnar had helped with security before, but it was usually just three or four armed bandits at most;

  a single gunshot was enough to scare them off.

  Even without a gun, if you gave him a decent pipe, he could handle small-time thugs.

  But with this many people, Gunnar didn't think he could manage.

  Besides, the other side had firearms, which made the two handguns stashed in the cab seem like toys.

  He had no idea what the cargo in the container was or how much it was worth, and he certainly wasn't about to risk his life for Vine Corporation's stuff.

  A smart man knows when to retreat.

  "Nobody move!"

  Gunnar growled in a low voice, first stopping Michael, who was about to draw his gun, then turning to the driver.

  "Kill the engine, leave the keys, and don't try anything funny."

  Michael froze for a second, then whispered,

  "Gunnar, we..."

  Part of Michael was itching for a fight. His body was almost superhuman, and he'd been learning combat techniques lately.

  But his rational side was also at work:

  This was cargo for the Eastern District;

  he was just pulled in by Gunnar coincidentally.

  He didn't need to take responsibility.

  What he cared about was earning money safely.

  He needed to stay as far away from situations that might trigger a transformation as possible, to avoid giving Yang Chen control of his body again.

  He had a beautiful wife waiting at home. Why risk his life?

  "Life is more important than money,"

  Gunnar muttered under his breath, his expression grim.

  "We're just hired help. No need to go toe-to-toe with these desperadoes. Give them the goods; we walk away."

  Michael relaxed his grip on the holster and nodded.

  A scar-faced man, cigarette dangling from his lips, swaggered up to the cab and kicked the door hard.

  "Get the hell out!"

  Gunnar pushed the door open, stepped out with his hands up, followed by Michael and the driver.

  All three were unarmed, posture submissive.

  Michael noticed a common element on their bodies:

  Black skull tattoos.

  The Black Bones Gang again?

  What fucking rotten luck, Michael thought.

  "Brothers, we're all just trying to make a living,"

  Gunnar forced a grin, his tone overly placating.

  "Take the truck and the cargo. The three of us are just lowly company employees, errand boys. This stuff has nothing to do with us. Let us go, saves you trouble too."

  The scar-faced man narrowed his eyes, scanning them, then peeked into the cab.

  Seeing no guns, he spat again, waved a dismissive hand, his face full of disdain.

  "Piss off! Get lost! And don't let me see your sorry faces again, or I'll waste you and feed you to the wild dogs!"

  "Right, right!"

  Gunnar hurriedly agreed, grabbing Michael and the driver by the arms, turning, and quickly heading into the wasteland by the roadside.

  Michael couldn't help but glance back, and his heart skipped a beat:

  Because he saw a familiar face among the bandits, one he definitely wouldn't forget... wasn't that the Rhino Man from the lawless alley that day?

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Only, the guy wasn't transformed now;

  he was in human form.

  That guy was also staring right at Michael, clearly recognizing him too!

  Michael immediately turned his head back, cold sweat beading on his forehead, heart pounding wildly, terrified the Rhino Man would suddenly transform and come after him.

  Seeing him naturally made Michael wary.

  If he didn't let Yang Chen out, he definitely couldn't win;

  at least not with his own power yet.

  To Michael's surprise, the Rhino Man was also wary of him, having nearly been killed by the wolf-form Michael (Yang Chen) last time.

  Besides, today, the Rhino Man also had important business...

  So, the three of them didn't look back, walking away with quick, steady strides.

  There was no pursuit, no trouble at all.

  They were really let go.

  "Fucking hell, what rotten luck," Gunnar spat. "Good thing we didn't fight. Those guys had four or five rifles."

  Michael was puzzled inside: Wasn't that Rhino Man the boss before?

  Why did those underlings call him 'boss' then?

  Today, the Rhino Man clearly seemed like a subordinate.

  That scar-faced man was the real boss.

  He didn't speak, his mind still on Mia, just hoping to get away quickly and return to the rented room.

  ...

  Meanwhile, on the other side, the Black Bones Gang members had whooped and hollered, surrounding the refrigerated truck.

  Several of them worked together to yank open the rear door.

  A gust of white, foggy cold air billowed out, carrying a faint smell of disinfectant.

  "Shit! It's the white bottle cargo!"

  a subordinate reached out, touched the markings on a crate, and instantly burst out with an ecstatic shout.

  "Boss! It's broad-spectrum antibiotics! We're gonna be rich!"

  "Hahaha! That woman didn't lie to us!"

  The scar-faced man's voice boomed from outside the container, making Mia's ears ache.

  "All of you, move it! Get this stuff loaded and get the hell out of here before Vine's security department shows up!"

  The chaotic footsteps, the clatter of crates being moved, the excited shouts of the bandits—they were like countless needles jabbing at Mia's nerves.

  She was curled up in a deep crevice in the container, temporarily undiscovered.

  The girl clutched the packet of antibiotics she had secretly stuffed into her pocket, her teeth biting her trembling lips, her blood feeling almost frozen.

  Someone's hand brushed past the crate she was hiding behind, rough fingertips almost touching the hem of her clothes.

  Mia was so scared she forgot to breathe, covering her mouth tightly, tears welling in her eyes.

  She didn't know who had stopped the truck outside, and she certainly didn't know Michael was nearby.

  All she knew was that she had to escape, had to escape with this packet of medicine—it was her and Michael's hope, the 100,000G that could get them out of Yellow Sand City.

  Her hand found the loosened latch plate behind her.

  With a light kick, this loose side panel could be knocked open, and outside was the pitch-black wilderness.

  Besides, she had won the school sprint championship in high school.

  If she went all out, she still had a chance!

  Mia took a deep breath, her fingertips turning white from the force of her grip.

  She stared at the back of the bandit nearest to her, waiting for him to turn and move a crate. Seizing the moment, she raised her foot and kicked hard at the metal plate.

  With a loud clang, the metal plate was kicked open, creating a large hole. Cold wind instantly rushed in.

  Mia didn't hesitate for a second.

  Hugging the packet of medicine to her chest, she scrambled out of the hole like a startled rabbit and sprinted into the depths of the wilderness.

  "There's someone!"

  A furious shout rang out, followed immediately by the piercing crack of gunfire.

  A bullet whizzed past her ear, striking the dirt beside her, spraying up dust.

  Mia didn't dare look back.

  She ran for her life, the packet of medicine jabbing painfully against her chest, but she held onto it tightly, refusing to let go.

  Several more gunshots rang out.

  Excruciating pain erupted from her back, as if a red-hot branding iron had been plunged into her flesh.

  Mia's steps faltered, and she crashed heavily to the ground!