In just a fleeting glance, Xiao Lin's attack halted. Due to this moment of hesitation, the shadow's right palm powerfully struck forward, landing squarely on Xiao Lin's right shoulder. Caught completely unprepared, he stumbled back two or three steps, and when he looked up again, the person was gone. Alone in the desolate alley, his dark eyes were a mix of distraction, confusion, and disbelief.
Rubbing his struck right shoulder, Xiao Lin returned to the scene of the gunfight, where a few policemen gathered in small groups, smoking and chatting. Occasional cryptic laughter drifted over; no need to guess what they were talking about—men gathered together always circle back to women.
Taking advantage of their inattention, Xiao Lin slipped inside the police cordon. At dawn, more police would arrive. Witnessing the scene ruined by chaotic footprints, Xiao Lin frowned.
