Nancy, on the other hand, was following Pepper for a thorough inspection. Meanwhile, Lance was asked to come help Aunt Wu with a few minor issues. At least, that's what Lance thought. Minor issues. Inconveniences that could be resolved in an afternoon.
But Lance's instincts told a different story.
For a Sorcerer, finding someone shouldn't be difficult. As long as the person was alive, their trace could still be sensed, pulled out from the layers of the visible world.
The car stopped in the back area of the consulate—a very elegant villa territory, filled with modern colonial-style architecture and high fences separating peace from the chaos of the city. It was said that this place was inhabited by former consuls and their families. The air around felt unnaturally calm, like a heartbeat held too long.
Just as Lance parked the car, two white men in neat suits with serious expressions approached, their steps sharp and their eyes alert.
"What do you want?" one of them asked in a stiff tone, almost like a security barcode speaking.
Lance frowned. "I want to meet Consul Han."
There was a slight change in their expressions. Not much, but enough to be noticeable to trained eyes.
One of them quickly replied, "State your business first. Then we'll decide whether to pass it on to the consul."
The man's tone was dry, like a broken announcement board.
Lance took a short breath and replied lazily, "One of my relatives is a friend of Consul Han. He knows that Consul Han is in trouble, so he sent me to help."
Lance suddenly remembered—where he forgot to ask for Consul Han's phone number. If he had, he wouldn't have to waste time with these fake guards. Speaking was becoming pointless.
But—wait a minute.
Lance squinted. Something was off.
Why were the guards at the Chinese consulate foreigners?
And these two... didn't behave like security staff. Their movements were stiff, too trained. Their gazes were judgmental, not protective.
The faces of the two men changed immediately. Their dislike was now clearly visible.
"Tell that person," said the man in front, flatly, "the case of Consul Han is under FBI jurisdiction. There's no need for local police involvement, let alone an unclear outsider like you."
The other quickly added, "This is a secure zone. We are fully responsible. Consul Han is not receiving guests. Please leave."
Lance raised an eyebrow and smirked, like someone who just heard a bad joke.
"Two FBI agents," Lance said in a low voice, "Be careful with your weapons. They might just go off on their own."
"What?" They responded reflexively, simultaneously raising their right hands to their respective weapons.
Tension had been hanging in the air since the daughter of the Chinese consul was reported kidnapped. One explosion could trigger panic. So it was no surprise that the two men were immediately ready to shoot, their palms firmly gripping their guns.
And then...
Bang!
Both guns fired suddenly, unexpectedly. The explosion didn't come from bullets being shot out, but as if the metal itself rebelled. The gun muzzles dipped, and bullets lodged into each of their thighs.
"AH!!"
"F*K!!!"
Cries of pain and wild curses echoed. The FBI agents stationed inside the villa rushed out, panicked and armed.
Lance grinned mischievously, then raised his fingers, whistling a long, high-pitched tune.
The air, once tense, was suddenly filled with the sound of chirping—loud and chaotic. From behind the trees, a flock of black birds emerged. They flew quickly, in a disordered formation, swooping like a panicked rain towards the FBI agents rushing out.
Bird droppings rained down on them first, like an explosion of organic ammunition. Before the agents could react, sharp wings and small beaks assaulted their faces and heads, accompanied by tiny claws that somehow felt very painful.
Total chaos.
This was not a deadly attack—not on the level of the destructive arts from the Ancient Chambers. Just a little trick. A light lesson from Dr. Druid. A flock of small birds, directed to serve as a distraction.
Enough to send the FBI into a frenzy.
But not enough to reveal just how serious Lance's intentions really were.
However, this was the perfect stage for playing a joke.
A group of FBI agents looked desperate, their faces tense with frustration. Lance casually walked past them and entered the chaotic living room, where Consul Han stood awkwardly between an overturned sofa and a cracked tea table.
From his neat cut and distinctive gray suit, this man was clearly a high-ranking official. Looking closer, Lance frowned. This man looked... familiar. Very familiar.
Next to him stood a Black man with an ever-present wide smile and an air of false confidence. That big nose. That attitude. Wait...
Lance blinked quickly. 'Is this... Rush Hour?'
No wonder Lance felt something was off when he heard Aunt Wu's introduction. Everything was starting to make sense now.
It seemed the two gatekeepers who had looked so angry earlier had just been taken down by Detective Lee, who had barged in. He was also a friend of the consul.
Carter. Of course. The man who could create chaos while making people laugh at the same time had come along with Lee.
This story was starting to form a pattern. Consul Han had become a target for seizing valuable contraband—national artifacts that should never have left Hong Kong Island. Lee, a friend of Consul Han and a police officer from Hong Kong, had come to Los Angeles as a guest... and then got directly involved in finding Consul Han's daughter, Soo Yung, who had been kidnapped.
And now?
A group of FBI agents were reversing their cars, trying to piece together the chaos. Inside, only two guards remained around Consul Han. The atmosphere in the room was tense, like the air before a storm.
Lee, always alert, sharpened his gaze. But Carter? He casually walked toward Lance, a wide smile on his face, one hand casually holding a gun as if it were a TV remote.
"Carter?!" Lee hissed, his eyes wide.
PS: Lee is played by Jackie Chan and James Carter is played by Chris Tucker from the film Rush Hour.
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