Chapter Four: The Mistress of the Cobalt Blue Sanatorium

The fiery red sports car retained the classic silhouette of a Ferrari 458, but six sharp spikes had been mounted on its wheels, front, and rear, transforming the supercar into a thorny rose that looked both bizarre and dangerous.

Yet such flashy modifications were utterly pointless in Zheng Nanfang’s eyes, serving only to reduce the car’s stability and invite disaster. At high speeds, the spikes did nothing but make the car look cool.

Take now, for instance—she felt like pulling up beside the heavy-duty pickup to see what would happen. The pickup’s chassis was so high that the spikes were useless. Even if she got lucky and managed to scrape the pickup’s tires, the resulting backlash would throw off her balance and leave them both wrecked.

“What’s that woman up to?” Zheng Nanfang lifted his jacket hem and drew a slender steel blade from the holster at his ribs. The blade was two fingers wide, unadorned, radiating a chilling aura, and on closer inspection, its edge was pitted with countless tiny nicks.

Hu Bi glanced at Zheng Nanfang’s weapon, licking his lips with a half-smile. “Playing with knives? Is that something your friend taught you?”

Zheng Nanfang shook his head. “No, I taught myself.”

Hu Bi didn’t slow down, testing the limits by edging closer to the sports car several times. The fiery car never flinched or dodged, exuding the demeanor of someone utterly unfazed.

Hu Bi cursed under his breath and slammed the brakes, muttering, “That woman’s nuts. She’s probably racing too. Remember—stay as far from her as possible.”

“She’s that scary?” Zheng Nanfang was intrigued; he’d thought someone as tough as Hu Bi wouldn’t shy away from any opponent.

“You’re not from the lower city, so you wouldn’t know,” Hu Bi replied, his tone serious. He slowed his speed, and the sports car instantly braked as well, refusing to overtake or let the pickup fall behind, doggedly keeping pace.

“A hundred kilometers south of Raw Meat Town lies a patch of shifting sands. There’s a Deep Blue Clinic there.”

“Shifting sands…” Zheng Nanfang mused aloud, “The place with all the wind turbines?”

“That’s right.” Hu Bi nodded. “It used to be a wind farm, but after the ‘Hive’ appeared, geological changes turned it into a sand field. Deep Blue Clinic sits on its edge, and that woman is the clinic’s…”

“A patient?”

“The director.”

“Wow.” Zheng Nanfang exclaimed, almost excited. “That impressive? I heard on the way here, outside the Upper City is a medical no-man’s land. How come there’s a clinic?”

“Who told you it’s a clinic?” Hu Bi snorted, flicking his burning cigarette out the window and gritting his teeth. “It’s a psychiatric hospital—the one she built herself.”

“I don’t see the difference, but you seem afraid of her.”

Zheng Nanfang spread his hands, eyeing the speeding sports car with interest.

As luck would have it, when Zheng Nanfang turned his head, the driver’s window of the sports car rolled down. He squinted, intending to catch a glimpse of the woman who made Hu Bi so wary—only to see a dark gun barrel emerge from the window.

“Stop the car!” Zheng Nanfang’s scalp tingled; he shouted urgently and ducked down just as a barrage of gunfire blazed forth, shattering the glass.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!

Under the night sky’s desolation, tongues of flame licked through the darkness, gunshots rang out, and the sparks from bullets striking the vehicle were brighter than the headlights.

Hu Bi’s reaction was quick—at Zheng Nanfang’s warning, he slammed the brakes, twisted the wheel to avoid the hail of bullets, and threw open his door to roll out, not caring if his newly minted ally survived.

Zheng Nanfang, slight of build, squeezed from the front seat to the back, kicked open the door, and scrambled out. Turning, he saw Shaman still limp in the rear seat.

He grabbed her ankle and dragged her out; as soon as they hit the ground, bullets tore through the door, stuffing flying everywhere.

“Why bother with her?” Hu Bi growled, lying on the dirt below the roadside, peering under the car at their attackers.

With the barrage over, four women emerged from the sports car, spreading out and searching behind the pickup.

“She got a grudge with you?” Zheng Nanfang slapped Shaman awake, then quickly covered her mouth and dragged her toward the embankment.

“Told you, she’s a lunatic.”

Blood streaked Hu Bi’s face from a glass cut, but he seemed oblivious, not even wiping it as it trickled into his mouth.

The four attackers were about to flank the pickup. Around them, the bare slopes offered no cover at all.

“Damn, you don’t even have a gun?” Hu Bi was beside himself—bad luck all day, first a crash in the sandstorm, now a run-in with this nemesis, and he was unarmed—a hero cut down by fate.

Zheng Nanfang shrugged, pushing the bewildered Shaman farther back, signaling her to run.

Shaman regained her senses, about to flee, then realized what was happening. “Are you even human? You want me to be a target?”

“Good idea.” Hu Bi’s eyes lit up. “Give me the knife.”

“There’s only one.” Zheng Nanfang shook his head, retreating while explaining to Shaman, “It’s dark—they might not hit you. You’re slim, easy to dodge. Old Hu’s too big.”

“What if I get hit?” Shaman protested, even though she knew she had no real choice.

“Maybe you won’t get hit anywhere vital,” Zheng Nanfang replied coolly, gripping the saw-edged blade in reverse and gesturing for silence. “Run. Listen to me—I’ll make sure they only fire once. Trust me.”

Hu Bi had no idea where Zheng Nanfang’s confidence came from, but there wasn’t a better plan, so he grabbed Shaman and shoved her in the opposite direction.

“Ahh!” Shaman screamed from the depths of her soul, hearing the gunmen shifting their aim toward her, mind blank as she ran for her life, screaming.

“Run in a zigzag!” Hu Bi cursed, then turned to find Zheng Nanfang gone.

Bang bang bang bang!

Gunfire flashed again; the gunmen, drawn by Shaman’s screams, opened fire in her direction, their muzzle flashes illuminating the road. Four tall women in white coats stood in a striking line.

In the next second, a shadow leapt from the pickup roof—closest to the vehicle, a gunwoman dropped instantly, the other three spun their weapons around.

Hu Bi sprang up, flung a handful of dust, and rolled, grabbing a pair of long, beautiful legs and hurling their owner aside.

“Ahh…” The woman crashed to the ground, her gun falling nearby. Hu Bi scrambled over, but just as he touched the stock, a heavy blow struck his head, stars exploding in his vision.

“Nice to see you again, Hu Sentian.”

Hu Bi’s heart sank at the familiar female voice.

“Not so fast now, are you? Run again, I dare you.” Her voice rang clear, laced with mocking amusement.

“Hey, don’t hurt him,” Zheng Nanfang called out.

A flicker of hope sparked in Hu Bi—he looked up to see the other gunwoman subdued by Zheng Nanfang, the slender blade pressed to her neck. Zheng Nanfang was hidden behind her, his movements professional.

Zheng Nanfang exhaled slowly, whispering in her ear, “Don’t move. I won’t hurt you.”

The gunwoman’s life hung in the balance, but she treated Zheng Nanfang with utter disdain, snorting with an air of indifference.

Zheng Nanfang glanced toward Hu Bi; the long-haired woman who had subdued him turned as well.

The night wind swept the highway—her white coat unbuttoned, billowing around her. She wore a black strapless top, baring her chest and slim waist, the tiny top unable to contain her striking figure; her lower half sported ultra-short shorts, a gun holster strapped to her thigh, and crimson eight-centimeter heels, the stiletto grinding into Hu Bi’s back.

It had to be said, for all Hu Bi’s talk, this madwoman was truly stunning; with an MP9 submachine gun cradled in her arms and a toss of her long hair…even in the darkness, her wild beauty was irresistible.

“I’m not hurting him,” Hong Xiangcai replied, smoothing her hair, lips painted a seductive crimson curve, her tone teasing. “See? He’s just fine.”

Zheng Nanfang hesitated, nudging the fallen Uzi submachine gun with his toe, blade to the hostage, muzzle aimed at Hong Xiangcai. “Let’s trade.”

Hong Xiangcai turned, her delicate shoulders twitching. “Hmm? Trade what?”

“Give me Hu Bi, I’ll return this woman and the other two. Take them all.”

“No deal.” Hong Xiangcai refused at once, kicking the feigning Hu Bi. “I’ll count to three—get up.”

Hu Bi clenched his teeth, breathing hard, but finally rose as Hong Xiangcai reached “two.”

“Put these on yourself.” She tossed him a pair of handcuffs from her coat pocket. Hu Bi wanted to protest but complied.

“Into the car.” Hong Xiangcai prodded him with her gun, Hu Bi looking mournfully at Zheng Nanfang before sighing deeply and climbing into the fiery sports car.

Hong Xiangcai smiled, lips pursed, bent to slip into the driver’s seat, and waved to Zheng Nanfang. “Let’s go.”