He was speaking Chinese! The driver, who was also of Chinese descent, laughed and said, "Just bear with it for a bit. Oh, and... don't pee in my car, I still need to sell those fish."
He threw a blanket through the window, then a bag, and told me, "This is what Wick asked me to give you."
Then I closed the window and immediately wrapped the blanket around myself, which warmed me up a bit before opening the bag. Inside was a set of clothes, old but very clean. The kind of clothes you could wear on the street without drawing attention. There was also a stack of banknotes at the bottom of the bag.
I know, this is Canadian dollars. I counted it, and it's about a thousand Canadian dollars.
I laughed. Anyway, I was grateful to Captain Wick. He wasn't a good man, even greedy, but at least he was a shrewd businessman.
Although, in a sense, he took two huge bags of money from me, amounting to millions, and now he's only given me a set of clothes and a thousand Canadian dollars, at least he did everything according to business rules! I gave him those two bags of money voluntarily.
And even if he doesn't give me the bag of clothes and the thousand Canadian dollars, I can't say anything. The way he did that… well, how should I put it…
He might be a greedy jerk, but he's at least a somewhat lovable scoundrel.
Part 1: A Man in the Martial World, Forced by His Own Will, Chapter 134: Killing Formation
Hastings Street, Vancouver.
I was wearing the clothes Captain Wick had given me—a dark-colored cotton jacket. It was slightly oversized, but with my hands in my pockets, it wasn't too noticeable, and the backpack on my back was casual.
Outwardly, I looked no different from most people on the street. I saw two policemen as I walked by, but I just swaggered past them, their eyes merely sweeping over me without lingering on me for even a second.
I know I'm not far from success.
The truck only dropped me off at the intersection of a fishing company in Vancouver. I asked the driver for directions to Hastings Street, and then it took me almost an hour and a half to finally arrive.
I didn't take a taxi because I don't speak English and I was afraid of giving myself away. In North America, whether in the US or Canada, people have a much stronger sense of law than we do in China. If they have any doubts, they'll call the police immediately!
After walking for nearly two hours, I finally smiled and breathed a sigh of relief as I looked at the street sign for Hastings Street.
It's funny to think about, but I didn't even recognize the word "Hastings" and only figured it out by guessing.
Vancouver, 107 Hastings Street, B1.
This is the address the fat guy gave me before I left!
Actually, the number Fatty gave me was the one I used on the way here. I called it from a phone booth on the street, but it rang for a long time and no one answered. So I had to find it myself all the way here. Looks like I was lucky.
I checked the address, and it's correct.
In front of me was a car wash, a low two-story building. The buildings along the whole street were all similar in style, and the road wasn't wide. There were very few vehicles and pedestrians on the street.
I seriously doubt how a car wash can do well in a location like this.
The car wash was wide open. I stood at the door and called out, but no one answered. There wasn't a single employee inside.
There were two cars in the car wash, and an electric car wash machine was running, making a loud noise.
I tightened my backpack around my back a little, then went inside and shouted, "Is anyone there?"
Apart from the sound of the car wash equipment, no one answered me.
I saw several water spray guns in the corner, all of which were car wash equipment and tools. But there wasn't a single employee working there, which puzzled me somewhat.
Inside, there was a staircase leading upstairs. I stood downstairs and called out. Then, after hesitating for a moment, I stepped upstairs.
Just as I reached the turn of the stairs, a loud burst of music suddenly came from above.
It was as if someone suddenly turned on the stereo, and loud, energetic music came through, startling me.
Upstairs was a long corridor with several rooms, all with their doors open. But there was hardly anyone there. I had just climbed the stairs and peeked halfway out when I heard a loud "boom" in my ear!
My experiences over the past few days have made me immediately recognize that this is the sound of gunfire!
I quickly ducked and ducked, then heard the sound of wood cracking beside me. The railing by the stairs had been blasted apart by a gunshot, sending splinters flying. Some of them landed on my face and neck.
I collapsed to the ground, unable to hold back a curse: "Damn it!"
Next, just like in a gunfight movie I'd seen, gunfire erupted all around me. I lay prone on the ground and saw several people simultaneously leap out of the workshops on both sides. Using the cover of the rooms in the corridors on either side, several people dressed in different clothes raised their pistols and fired fiercely at the end of the corridor, which was to my left.
I lay on the ground and heard bullets whistling past my ears, gunfire like rain, a barrage of sounds as dense as popping beans! The sounds of shattering glass and breaking wood rose and fell.
After a brief period of intense firing, calm finally returned, but the loud, energetic music still echoed throughout the second floor!
I was stunned, completely dumbfounded!
I came here according to the address provided by the fat man, but I didn't expect to encounter this kind of thing right away!
It felt like I'd suddenly stumbled into a battlefield. People were firing at each other from both sides, and the ridiculous thing was, I was right in the middle of them!
From where I was lying down, I could see three or four people hiding behind the door on my right, while on my left there seemed to be only one person... I could tell from the gunfire.
After a moment of silence, I heard those people shout a few curses. They weren't speaking English! Nor were they speaking Chinese!
However, based on their build and skin color, as well as my previous experience at sea, I immediately determined that they were speaking Vietnamese!
On the other side, an old voice immediately shouted, "I'll fuck all your mothers! You Vietnamese bastards, you'd better die a horrible death! If you want my life, come and take it!"
His voice was deep and resonant, full of energy, and he was speaking Chinese.
I immediately deduced that this guy was most likely the one Fatty had asked me to find!
Actually, I don't need to make any further judgments.
I found myself caught in the middle of a fight between two groups of people, one Vietnamese and one Chinese. Even a fool would know who I should help!
After a while of shouting and cursing, I suddenly heard a Vietnamese man yell a few times, then try to peek out from outside. This immediately attracted Chinese gunfire, and the two sides exchanged gunfire for a while. But the gunfire from the Chinese side gradually subsided.
He's probably running out of bullets!
A thought flashed through my mind.
Sure enough, the Vietnamese seemed to realize this as well, and one of the bolder ones leaned out and rushed over. From the opposite room, a Chinese man shouted, "Vietnamese devils!"
I remained prone on the ground. The Vietnamese must have seen me when I came upstairs, but after their initial burst of fire, I didn't get up. They probably thought I was dead. The Vietnamese man cautiously approached the inner room, and as he passed me, I suddenly sprang up, grabbed him, and we tumbled together in a struggle. Unarmed, I grabbed a broken piece of wood I'd picked up earlier and plunged the pointed end into the Vietnamese man's groin!
He screamed, his arms, which had been wrestling with me, went limp. I saw the two Vietnamese men behind me raise their guns in alarm, and I quickly tumbled inside, the two of them rushing into a room. Then I heard bang bang bang bang behind my head…
I rolled out, and several bullet holes were immediately created in the ground where I landed.
Actually, I was very lucky. This building seemed to be a wooden structure, so the bullets didn't bounce off the wood. Otherwise, the ricochets alone could have killed me!
The Vietnamese man screamed in agony, clutching his groin. Blood was everywhere. I couldn't be sure where the sharp piece of wood had pierced him—perhaps his groin, or perhaps just his thigh. I released him, but grabbed his gun and ducked behind a corner.
The Vietnamese man was rolling on the ground. From my angle, I was facing him directly. Another Vietnamese man tried to come over to rescue his companion on the ground. I immediately fired two shots, forcing him back.
My two shots missed... Oh well, I haven't fired a gun much. Back in China, I hardly ever used one! But it was enough to scare them away. The Vietnamese on the ground was bleeding more and more. I hesitated for a moment, but still didn't shoot him. Just then, a Chinese man on the other end shouted, "Which brother is here? Damn it, kill these Vietnamese devils! Are they carrying tumors?"
I took a breath. I didn't understand what he was saying, something about "tumor" or something like that. I was even more confused. Just as I was about to speak, I heard several gunshots outside.
The current situation is that I'm still caught in the middle, on either side of the corridor. They each occupy a room, and I'm in the middle one. I really want to go out and meet up with the Chinese guy, but unfortunately I can't go out; if I do, I'll be riddled with bullets.
I caught my breath. I shouted, "What tumor? I don't have one..."
Bang bang bang bang, several gunshots drowned out my voice.
The Chinese man inside cursed, "Damn it, can't you understand me? Holy crap, is this some AB kid?!"
It's getting more and more chaotic. I can't understand what this guy is saying. I took advantage of the gunshots outside to look at the furnishings in the room.
The room was very empty; it looked like an office, with only a desk and a cabinet, nothing else.
However, I glanced at the window in front of me, and an idea struck me. I quickly ran over and pushed it open.
I took a breath, slipped to the doorway, fired a few more shots randomly outside to intimidate the other side, then quickly jumped to the window and stepped out.
The street was right below, but thankfully there was a windowsill. I grabbed onto a protruding part of the wall and quickly moved to the other side.
I figured that if I moved a few meters behind my window, that would be the room where the Chinese man was!
The height of this place from the ground is not very high, only about three meters.
As I climbed quickly, I wondered why the Chinese man was running away. If he had jumped out of the window, it would have been only three meters from the ground, making it easy for him to escape.
Finally, I reached the window, smashed the glass with my fist, and shouted, "We're on the same side, don't shoot!"
I smashed through the window and rolled onto the floor. Before I could even get up, I felt a chill on my neck!
I felt the cold blade pressed against my neck. My hand gripped the hilt firmly, and then a cold voice said, "What do you mean, 'one of us'? Who are you?"
It's that Chinese voice!
I took a breath and then proactively handed the gun over, turning it inside out.
He immediately released the knife, took my gun, and then fired a few shots outside.
I rolled over and got up, finally getting a clear look at the person.
He was about fifty years old, very thin, his face was turned to the side, he had long hair, and a very prominent facial structure, a typical Chinese face shape...
Now I finally understand why he didn't jump out of the window to escape!
He was sitting! Under his bottom was a wheelchair!
This man fired two shots outside, then turned around and pointed the gun at me: "Who are you? I've never seen you before!"
I looked at the muzzle of the gun, took a deep breath, looked into his eyes, and then slowly said a sentence:
"A mountain of knives and a sea of fire!"
Part 1: In the Jianghu, Not in Control of One's Own Fate, Chapter 135: Uncle Seven and Master Eight
"..."
His eyes were fixed on me, with a strange look in them.
We stared at each other for a few seconds!
However, this was not the time to talk. Several gunshots rang out outside. I watched as he immediately fired back fiercely a few times, then threw the gun away. It seemed he had run out of bullets.
I ran to the window, ripped off the curtains, opened the window, tied the curtains to the windowsill, then turned around and said urgently in a low voice, "Let's go!"
He glanced at the windowsill, immediately understood what I meant, and shouted a few words—in Vietnamese, no less! Then he quickly wheeled himself to the window. I helped him up, and he draped his body over my shoulder…
The curtain was only two meters long, but that was enough. After all, this was only the second floor. I grabbed the curtain and slid down. The person couldn't stand on their own two legs, but still had their arms hanging on my shoulders. Then they quickly pointed to a car parked under the electronic car wash equipment at the car wash next door.
I understood, and helped him up. The two of us stumbled over and opened the car door.
The man took the initiative to sit in the passenger seat, then opened the glove compartment, pulled out a revolver, and quickly tossed me the keys from his pocket.