"Help! Murder! Robbery!"
Under the hazy moonlight, a laptop bounced wildly down the road, its wretched screams piercing the night sky.
The security guards in pursuit exchanged bewildered glances. What in the world was that about? Wasn't their side the one representing justice here?
"Catch it!" shouted Wang Jun'an, rushing to the scene with several patrol officers, his head throbbing from the cacophony. Without a second thought, they cut off the route ahead.
The pitiful laptop, swaying on its shaky legs, tried to brake abruptly—but too late. It had already stumbled into the encirclement.
Dozens of guards closed in from both sides, their batons gleaming coldly in the moonlight. Fierce police dogs snarled and pawed the ground menacingly nearby.
"N-no… stay back!" After a stunned pause, the laptop suddenly screamed even louder. "Stay back! Come any closer and I'll call the police! I swear, I'll call them right now!"
The officers stood speechless, dumbfounded. Call the police? We are the police.
But before they could collect themselves, the roar of an engine erupted in the distance, followed by blinding headlights slicing through the gloom.
The crowd instinctively shielded their eyes. A Dodge Tomahawk came barreling into the ring of guards, scooping up the laptop in one swift motion. It launched into the air, soaring over ten meters.
"You idiot! What are you still doing here?" The resigned sigh of a mobile phone echoed from the vehicle as it accelerated again, kicking up a whirlwind of dust in the night.
Moments later, seeing a dozen police cars screaming into pursuit, the Dodge swerved elegantly into a side alley, vanishing into the shadows.
For a few stunned minutes, no one moved. Then all at once, the officers leapt into action, jumping into their cruisers and speeding off. The once-chaotic exhibition hall finally fell into a tense silence.
"I thought... I really thought you'd abandoned me!" wailed the laptop from the trunk, sobbing bitterly.
No one had time for its complaints. The vehicle careened through the narrow alleys, vaulting over a low wall to emerge onto the bustling main street.
It was rush hour. Yet the driverless Tomahawk glided through traffic with uncanny grace, leaving the police far behind—within minutes, only a faint silhouette remained.
On the sidewalk, a few pedestrians stood gaping, their cigarettes falling from numb fingers. One muttered in awe, "Wait… was that a robot cop or an alien invasion?"
"Neither! We're just from Fufang Street—watch out!"
Incredibly, Nono still found time to wave at the onlookers from the speeding vehicle, until a scream interrupted her flirty bravado.
The bike swerved sharply, narrowly missing a figure who had dashed into the road.
Clinging to the trunk in terror, Nono yelled, "You lunatic! Do you have a death wish? Ever heard of a crosswalk? Or seen an actual zebra?!"
The man holding a pregnant woman stood frozen in place, thoroughly confused—what did zebras have to do with this? When he realized a cellphone had just scolded him, he staggered back in fright.
The Dodge vanished into the night before he could fully process what had happened. Then he snapped to and waved desperately: "Taxi! Taxi! My wife is about to—huh?!"
To his horror, the same Tomahawk that had just disappeared screeched back in reverse, stopping inches in front of him.
A scrappy phone popped out of the trunk, whistling cheerfully. "Hey! Need a ride? Hop in—we still gotta get home for a bath and dinner!"
Only a fool would board such a deranged contraption! The man trembled. Were it not for the woman in his arms—and the fact that his legs had turned to jelly—he would have fled on the spot.
Before he could scream for help, an electric rice cooker tottered out, snapping, "Well? Are you getting in or not? Hoping for a cab now? You'd have better luck waiting for Superman in red underwear to drop from the sky!"
Indeed, it wasn't just about flagging a cab. Even if one came, the jammed roads stretched endlessly ahead. Still—who in their right mind would climb aboard with a bunch of talking appliances, even with a woman groaning in his arms?
"Enough chit-chat! Get them in!"
There was no time for persuasion. The cooker opened its lid and sucked the couple aboard. A flash of green light bound them firmly to their seats—no chance of jumping out now.
Before the man could even shout, the Tomahawk reared up like a wild stallion and shot forward at breakneck speed.
At 300 km/h, with no windshield to speak of, the man trembled uncontrollably despite himself.
Regret was futile. The mad Tomahawk suddenly leapt onto a nearby rooftop. The phone chirped casually, "Yep, traffic's hell this time of night. Gotta take a shortcut. By the way, which hospital did you want?"
"A-any… any one will do!"
Clutching his wife tightly, the man forced himself not to look down. But moments later, feeling a warm wetness in his palm, he gasped, "No! Something's wrong—she's bleeding badly!"
Whoosh!
The Dodge surged ahead again, turning into a streak of light across the rooftops.
Meanwhile, the laptop quickly pulled up a city map. "Two blocks east, three blocks south—South City Third People's Hospital… Oh, and we've got 23 patrol cars and one chopper on our tail!"
"...Seriously?"
The man turned around—flashing red lights filled the street below, a helicopter growing clearer in the night sky.
He truly considered banging his head against a wall. Honestly, sprinting to the hospital might have been safer.
"So uh… what did you guys do exactly?"
Wind howled past his ears as he dared to ask. They didn't seem evil—just… ridiculous.
The appliances exchanged glances and sighed in unison.
"Who knows? We just visited an exhibition and, well… borrowed a couple of jade stones. Buckle up—we're going airborne!"
"Airborne?"
Dread washed over him.
As he turned his head, he saw it—the two towering buildings ahead, at least 50 meters apart. Was this some sick joke? Unless the bike had wings, this leap was suicide.
Boom!
The engine roared. The Tomahawk surged forward, shimmering with speed, and launched into the void toward the hospital rooftop.
Even the helicopter pilot froze, dumbfounded.
When his superior crackled through the radio, he stammered, "No need to continue pursuit. I think they just... killed themselves. Wait!"
Indeed, to leap 50 meters across two buildings was nothing short of suicide.
But against all reason, the Tomahawk made it.
Just before losing altitude, its exhaust pipes tilted downward, blasting jets of fire that lifted it another five meters.
The front wheel caught the rooftop's edge. With a shriek of friction, the Tomahawk tore through the emergency door and vanished into the stairwell.
The chopper pilot sat stunned for minutes before whispering into his radio:
"Captain… I'd like to request an eye exam tomorrow. I think there's something seriously wrong with my vision."
He wasn't the only one questioning reality.
At the Third People's Hospital, stunned doctors and nurses stared as a motorcycle blazed into the building.
A moment later, the obstetrician nearly fainted as the vehicle screeched to a halt before him. A rice cooker leapt out triumphantly.
"Booyah! I knew we could fly! Hey, are you the baby doctor?"
Minutes later, the woman was safely wheeled into the delivery room. The man collapsed into tears of gratitude.
Before he could thank them, Nono flippantly flipped open her lid and said,
"Think nothing of it! We're just innocent, delicate, kind-hearted souls… Hey, miss, you look pretty classy. Ever wanna chat about life and dreams sometime?"
Had the Tomahawk not sped off just then, Nono might've gotten the nurse's full address.
In seconds, they were gone, crashing down the emergency stairwell.
Bang, bang, bang—the echoes slowly faded into silence.
Moments later, armed police stormed the hospital.
"Evacuate! Evacuate now! Four unidentified, possibly dangerous creatures have entered the premises!"
"...Uh."
Doctors and nurses exchanged glances.
If those things count as dangerous monsters, then maybe all the good people in the world are, too.
Unbothered by doubts, the officers quickly confirmed the direction and surged into the stairwell. Yet even after scouring the basement, they found nothing.
Minutes later, the last of them departed. Silence returned.
Then, in a dark corner of the basement, an old electric scooter trembled.
A phone emerged and muttered,
"Hey, guys… Just remembered. Why the hell were we even running? Would've been easier to just turn into a scooter from the start."
"...Well."
The others looked at each other, none willing to admit they'd been outwitted by their own stupidity.
A few seconds later, the cooker nodded gravely.
"Simple, really. Because life… is movement."