Lao Chen's mouth was open, but he could no longer make a sound. Xiao Lin darted to the left of Lao Chen like an arrow, the wind carrying a burnt smell. The silenced bullet was still at Lao Chen's temple, and his hand tightly gripped those five yuan bills, his wide eyes truly unable to find peace in death.
The shadow moved quickly. By the time Xiao Lin felt the shooting position, the person was already gone. He jumped onto the nearest building, climbing up an advertisement lightbox, realizing that he had been too careless.
A shadow slipped into a bar, and Xiao Lin looked up at the sign overhead before jumping down from the lightbox.
"You again?" The bartender looked at Xiao Lin with a somewhat complex expression.
"The same as before, I'll be back for it later." Xiao Lin glanced around; it was already close to 2 AM, yet there were still quite a few people in the bar, though it seemed much quieter, as if the commotion had died down.
