Chapter 145 Rainstorm and Freedom

On Wednesday morning, dark clouds covered the sky, accompanied by bursts of thunder.

A van pulled up at a gas station in the new town area.

This van seemed to have tried countless ways to drive out of the province in one night, leaving its mark at every highway and national road intersection under surveillance.

But it seems that every time, they are stopped and persuaded to turn back, and even showing their identification is of no use.

Not only the vehicle, but the young man inside also seemed to be completely exhausted.

He filled up his tank at the gas station, then drove to a breakfast shop near the gas station, parked his car by the roadside, ordered breakfast, and ate steamed buns while leaning against a utility pole.

But what he didn't know was that... danger had been lurking there for a long time.

"Silver van...wears glasses. Slim."

At the alley entrance, a young man wearing a black hoodie, with bloodshot eyes, holding a phone in his left hand and a knife in his right, slowly walked towards the young man next to the utility pole.

On his phone was a photo of the young man in front of him.

The young man seemed completely oblivious to the approaching youth. After finishing his steamed bun, he walked towards the bread cart. Just then, the youth in the black hoodie quickened his pace.

The breakfast shop owner seemed to notice this scene. After seeing the machete in the black hoodie's hand, he quickly ran towards the shop's landline, dialing 110 while nervously watching the movements on the side of the road.

A young man wearing a black hoodie and a hoodie quickly walked up behind the younger man and said directly, "Shen Xing."

The young man turned around, his face full of astonishment. Just then, the young man thrust his right hand forward and plunged the cleaver directly into the abdomen of the young man named Shen Xing.

Immediately, blood gushed out.

"Hiss hiss"

The young man in the black hoodie went berserk, repeatedly pulling out his machete and slashing at his opponent. Soon, the young man named Shen Xing collapsed to the ground.

"Help! Murder!!!"

The breakfast shop owner stared in disbelief at the scene before him and screamed. The others in the shop also began to flee in panic. The young man, carrying a machete, tried to return to the alley entrance to get his motorcycle and leave, but at that moment…

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a little girl huddled in the corner of the back seat of the bread cart, staring at him with a terrified expression. Where did this little girl come from?

My face was seen.

No, I cannot be arrested yet. There are still many guilty people waiting for me to judge...

Shen Xing is not qualified to judge criminals; only I have the ability and qualification. Moreover, some sacrifices are inevitable on the road to upholding justice...

He was in a state of extreme agitation, and in an instant, he decided to kill.

He glanced at the driver's seat inside the car; the key was still in the lock.

He climbed directly into the car, turned around, dragged the "corpse" into the car, then closed the door. Holding the blood-dripping machete, he stared intently at the girl in the back seat who seemed too terrified to scream.

When he climbed to the back seat, he saw that where the girl was sitting was not the floor, but a suitcase.

The girl seemed to have crawled out of a suitcase; she was wearing a dirty dress that looked like it hadn't been washed in ages, as if she had been locked up there for who knows how long.

A fierce internal struggle arose once more; his moral compass and the man's words seemed to be locked in a battle of wits between his left and right hemispheres. Damn it, that Shen Xing really deserves to die.

After a fierce internal struggle, he took a few deep breaths and reassured them, "It's alright, you're alright, the bad guys are dead." In the end, he gave up.

With a rumble of thunder, large raindrops began to pour down, and the May thunderstorms in the south arrived as expected.

As if venting his anger, he turned around and plunged the knife into the corpse. Then he stepped over the corpse, sat in the driver's seat, started the minivan, and floored the gas pedal. The fully fueled minivan roared toward the main road.

But, out of his sight, the corpse lying inside the car began to change.

A large amount of dark red blood oozed from the cut on his body. These blood vessels greedily licked up the blood that had splattered all over the car and reabsorbed it back into his body.

Black fungus sprouted from both the girl and the "corpse," slowly spreading along the car seat towards the driver's side. The young man driving felt a chill run down his neck.

He glanced at the rearview mirror, but when he saw what was behind him, his eyes widened and his pupils contracted slightly. An endless, indescribable fear surged into his heart.

The "corpse" was sitting in the seat behind him, calmly looking at himself through the rearview mirror, while behind him, the girl with empty eyes was standing next to the man's seat, her chin resting on the "corpse's" shoulder.

The man who should have died, the one he had stabbed multiple times, had his hands suspended in mid-air, his fingertips oozing countless terrifying blackish-red blood vessels, trembling slightly as if he were playing the piano.

And at the other end of those blood vessels is connected to one's own body.

He felt he was out of control.

His face was forcibly turned to the front, his foot uncontrollably slammed on the accelerator, and the van was roaring along the road at top speed, heading straight towards the bridge.

He tried his best to resist this uncontrollable feeling, but his body was completely out of his control. He could only look at the old bridge getting closer and closer with a face full of fear, unable to even utter a cry for help.

When he reached the middle of the bridge, he turned the steering wheel fully to the right with his right hand.

"Boom!"

In the early morning, amidst sparse traffic, police officers on guard at the bridge entrance, and surveillance cameras.

In the torrential rain, the van broke through the stone railing of the old bridge and flew into the middle of the river, drifting downstream with the turbulent current.

I don't know how much time has passed.

Downstream villages and towns were shrouded in lightning and thunder.

A naked man, dragging a little girl and a satchel, climbed up the earthen slope.

The torrential rain poured down on him, but the man looked up at the gloomy sky, a faint smile on his face. He felt...

Unprecedented freedom.

But before the lingering feeling of freedom and joy could dissipate, a booming sound, growing louder as it approached, interrupted the man's emotions.

His attention was drawn to a roaring motorcycle in the downpour. The yellow searchlight on the front of the motorcycle was flashing, so bright that it made him squint.

The motorcycle went over the embankment and crashed heavily onto the muddy ground, its tires spinning in the wet, slippery mud.

The motorcyclist struggled to his feet; his leg appeared to be injured, but he still limped over to the naked man.

When the helmet was removed, a stranger's face was revealed.

But this unfamiliar face calmly spoke:

"Ah Xing."

Are you alright?

Screw freedom.

The naked man's smile vanished.