Chapter Three: The Crimson Bird

The night was thick and heavy, the windswept highway across the barren plains shrouded in darkness, with the heavy-duty pickup truck looming like a silent iron monster, exuding an ever-growing sense of danger.

Inside the cab, the atmosphere had grown unpredictable. The three who had temporarily teamed up had only just eased their tensions a moment before, yet now seemed on the verge of turning on each other.

To Shaman, both Zheng Nanfang and Hu Bi were dangerous figures she couldn’t afford to provoke. If those two came to blows, she’d still end up a captive to the other. Her only hope to escape the predicament of her life being at another’s mercy was for them to destroy each other—ideally, for both to perish. And perhaps, just now, the opportunity had come.

Shaman made up her mind, her eyes locked on the gun pressed to Zheng Nanfang’s head. Without betraying any emotion, she discreetly slipped off the snake-shaped ring from her right hand, clutching it in her palm and letting the sharp tip protrude between her fingers.

If Hu Bi fired, she could seize the chance to strike at him. The tail of this coiled snake ring had already blinded several eyes in the past—not fatal, but enough to buy her time to escape.

The two men in the front seat breathed evenly. Tension was taut as a bowstring, yet there was not a hint of gunpowder in the air.

Shaman alone was so nervous her hands were sweating, her mind desperately urging Hu Bi to pull the trigger, her breathing growing rapid and shallow.

After a long silence, Zheng Nanfang, the one with the gun to his head, seemed to finally come back to himself. He cleared his throat softly and, without even glancing at Hu Bi beside him, said calmly, “It’s rusted.”

“What?” Hu Bi, who held the upper hand, was momentarily stunned, as if he hadn’t caught what Zheng Nanfang said. He couldn’t help but glance at Shaman, who looked equally bewildered.

“I said…” Zheng Nanfang pointed to the gun pressed to his head, and explained unhurriedly, “This gun’s rusted. The firing pin’s broken… Where did you pick this thing up?”

...

“Stop pretending. Doesn’t your arm get tired?” Zheng Nanfang turned to look at Hu Bi, whose face was now purple with rage, and grinned. “This gun’s older than I am. Even if it wasn’t rusted, it should’ve been scrapped long ago—it’s liable to blow up in your hand.”

A fierce light flashed in Hu Bi’s eyes, but then, enraged, he laughed instead. “You really do have a damn sharp nose. But if I want to kill you, gun or not, it’s all the same to me.”

“True.” Zheng Nanfang didn’t argue, but nodded in agreement. “I’m no match for you. But if you try anything, Shaman will attack you—and then we’ll both end up dead here.”

In the back seat, someone nearly choked on her own blood at this, and before she could explain, Hu Bi’s massive hand was at her throat, dragging her forward.

Shaman instinctively struggled, forgetting the snake ring clenched in her hand. In the scuffle, the ring slipped free and fell, her intent laid bare.

Zheng Nanfang picked up the ring, waved it before Hu Bi with a smile. “See? I wasn’t lying, was I?”

“Nononono, I can expl—”

A dull thud. Hu Bi brought down the gun butt with a blow, cutting Shaman off mid-sentence.

“Little vixen,” Hu Bi spat, tossing the limp Shaman back into the rear seat. His expression grew more complicated, and his gaze towards Zheng Nanfang became stranger still. He hesitated, then couldn’t help but ask, “How did you know?”

“Hm? About what? The island or Shaman?” Zheng Nanfang shrugged, suggesting Hu Bi start the car, apparently unconcerned by the recent commotion.

This only made Hu Bi feel more awkward. Despite holding all the advantage, he somehow felt as if he was being led by the nose. He detested the sensation, but reason told him now was not the time to fall out. Compared to the invitation, this kid seemed even more interesting.

“Forget the island—just rumors anyway,” Hu Bi said, regaining his composure. Thinking back, he chuckled and tossed the useless old gun aside, laughing heartily. “You know a lot about guns—your powers of observation are downright frightening. I’ve been around these wastelands and the lower city for years, seen all sorts of monsters, but honestly, you’re the first of your kind I’ve met.” He gestured toward Shaman. “I knew that little minx had something up her sleeve, but didn’t expect she’d dare make a move against me. How did you know?”

Zheng Nanfang tapped the window with his fingers, half-smiling. “I don’t know about guns, and I didn’t know her plan.”

“What do you mean?”

“My friend told me.”

The smile on Zheng Nanfang’s lips only widened, but to Hu Bi, it seemed mocking.

“You making a fool of me?” Hu Bi raised an eyebrow, his tone unfriendly.

Zheng Nanfang shook his head. “No, I’m telling the truth. The gun, Shaman, even the island—my friend told me about all of it.”

As a seasoned street veteran from the lower city, Hu Bi was confident in his judgment, but at this moment, his confidence was beginning to crumble.

Zheng Nanfang didn’t seem to be lying, but every word out of his mouth was bizarre.

Hu Bi thought, either this guy’s crazy, or his own brain’s finally given out.

“This friend you mention… who exactly do you mean?”

“Just a friend,” Zheng Nanfang said, looking a bit troubled. He rubbed his brow and sighed. “Anyway, I’m not lying. I just don’t know how to explain it to you, nor do I want to. You can think I’m crazy if you want. I mean you no harm, so there’s no need to overthink it.”

Hu Bi rolled his eyes. More mysterious nonsense, he thought, but then again, he and this kid hadn’t built any trust—no need to take it seriously. They were only temporary allies, after all. He’d take things one step at a time.

Having thought it through, Hu Bi felt much more at ease. He pulled out a crumpled homemade cigarette, tossed one to Zheng Nanfang, and lit his own. “Let’s talk about something else. How much do you know about the Road Race?”

“Only that it’s the only way to the Upper City. I know nothing else,” Zheng Nanfang replied frankly.

Hu Bi exhaled a plume of smoke, amused. “I’m impressed—not sure if you’re just fearless or an idiot. Do you know the kind of people who enter the Road Race?”

Zheng Nanfang shook his head, then nodded. “People like you?”

“Oh? Then tell me, what kind of person am I?”

“A thug, a scoundrel, a dangerous man.”

“Hahaha! Kid, I’m starting to like you.”

Zheng Nanfang laughed too, shifting his posture and reclining against the seat. He squinted at the few scattered lights flickering in the darkness ahead. “We’re nearly at Raw Meat Town, right?”

“Yeah, those lights up ahead. Word of advice—don’t keep talking about ‘the island’ or ‘your friend’ or any of that,” Hu Bi’s expression turned serious, his voice sinking. “We’ll be in Raw Meat Town for three days, and all sorts of racers will be gathering there. Keep a low profile, and avoid contact with any of those monsters. Wait until the race starts for everything else.”

“Alright, I’ll follow your lead,” Zheng Nanfang agreed without hesitation, about to say more when he noticed something and suddenly sat up, looking into the rearview mirror. “There’s a car behind us.”

Hu Bi glanced back. It was too dark, and the wind was fierce, but a shadow was speeding up behind them, the roar of its engine faintly audible. Hu Bi snorted and floored the accelerator. The heavy pickup truck roared, its speed surging.

The shadow behind them seemed to notice the change and suddenly switched on its headlights, beams glaring into their cab. There was another burst of engine noise, and in a blink, the car was side by side with the pickup, keeping pace but not overtaking.

Zheng Nanfang rolled down the window to look. A fiery red sports car tore through the darkness, keeping a car’s width alongside them, racing neck and neck.

“Damn it, Red Bird,” Hu Bi spat. “Crazy woman.”

“Who? You know her?”

“Hong Xiangcai—the lunatic from Deep Blue Asylum.”