Most of the Wildfire Gang were mired in agony.
The black man with the gun was all brawn and no brains, obviously. He didn't bother thinking too much about anything deeper.
Johnny thought a lot more.
For Chen Che to dare show up here alone, he must have some backup plan up his sleeve.
Outside the warehouse, Xia Na could barely contain her excitement as she drew her knife.
Looked like she was just waiting for an excuse to storm in and start killing.
That was just one of the reasons Johnny didn't dare make a move.
There was also that thing Chen Che had said.
It had stoked Johnny's morbid curiosity.
What the hell was he here for?
Johnny clenched his jaw, forced himself to focus on Chen Che through the pain, held back his men, and—with his face twisted in agony—asked, "What do you want?"
"What do I want? If I told you I'm here to help you, would you believe me?"
"We almost killed you before. You don't hate us? And you still want to help us?"
"Me, hate you guys? To be honest, you're not even worth it. I just saw what happened—you're nothing but someone else's leash dog. Even if I took revenge and killed you, it wouldn't mean shit, so don't flatter yourself."
Chen Che's words hit everyone in the Wildfire Gang like a slap in the face.
They all knew it—they were just disposable labor, pawns to be tossed aside anytime.
Getting revenge on them would be almost pointless, apart from venting some anger.
"So what do you really want?"
"I said, I'm here to help you. Honestly, my biggest flaw is that I'm way too much of a saint—too damn kind, really." Chen Che propped his forehead and sighed. "You want to kill me, but I want to repay evil with good…"
The others' lips all twitched at that. Only an idiot would buy this shit.
Chen Che didn't care if they believed him, striding straight over to Johnny, making no attempt to guard himself, and crouched down next to him. He spotted the skinny girl in Johnny's arms, foaming at the mouth, barely clinging to life.
He reached out and pried open the girl's eyelids.
Johnny had no idea what he was trying to do. He stayed wary but didn't stop Chen Che.
Chen Che gave her a cursory look. "Tsk tsk. Look at the red veins in her eyes—you guys are all hardcore smokers. Only long-term use of psychoactive drugs leaves the eyes looking like that."
"I watched everything just now. Looks like being someone's lapdog isn't easy—fail a job and they won't even feed you.
If I'm not wrong, the infamous Wildfire Johnny and your whole gang are controlled with psychoactives. You only take orders from the master, bite whoever they tell you—classic attack dogs."
That made every last one of them hang their heads in shame.
But he was right, that's exactly how it was.
Johnny gritted his teeth and fought through the pain: "When we were dying out there, he fed us a meal. Then he used drugs to control us, make us do his dirty work.
The withdrawal after coming off Dream Kiss—that's what you're seeing…" Johnny suddenly shook his head, realizing the pain was messing with his brain. Why the hell was he even telling Chen Che all this?
His face twisted with menace, he looked up. "If you're just here to mock us, I swear, even if you have a backup plan, I'll make sure you die with me."
"I like a dog that bites," Chen Che smirked.
A hint of a smile played at Chen Che's lips. "Ever considered switching owners?"
"Fuck you!"
The black man couldn't take another insult. He leveled the shotgun straight at Chen Che's head.
Chen Che didn't show a flicker of fear. He just kept smiling at Johnny.
"Heh heh heh…" Johnny forced out a few laughs. "Are you fucking stupid?"
"Tsk tsk tsk. Even dogs have to pick their masters. Dogs have dignity, you know—some owners feed their dogs right, give 'em bones, maybe even a bone with meat on it.
This isn't the first time those guys have screwed you over, right? Stick with them and sooner or later, you're dead."
"But if we don't stick with them, we'll die right now!" Johnny clutched his head and shouted, "If you have Dream Kiss, give it to us! You get us Dream Kiss, and maybe I'll work for you!"
"I don't have it," Chen Che replied, smiling.
"Then what the fuck are you doing here?!"
"But I do have this." Slowly, Chen Che pulled a pancake from his jacket.
"You fucking with me?"
Johnny had to admit, from the second Chen Che walked in here and started all this, he'd wondered if the guy actually had some Dream Kiss on him.
Right now, even a little Dream Kiss might be enough to save his sister.
And this bastard pulls out a pancake?
Johnny's urge to kill him skyrocketed.
Chen Che broke off a piece of the pancake and handed it to Johnny. "Why not try it, then decide if you want to kill me?"
Johnny wasn't some brainless lunatic—seeing the grin on Chen Che's face, he started to suspect something.
Could there be Dream Kiss in this pancake?
"Johnny, don't trust him, it might be poisoned!"
Chen Che rolled his eyes, annoyed with the black man behind him—he was more worried the shotgun might go off by accident. He stared at Johnny. "Could you get that idiot to lower the gun? At this stage, I'm seriously more scared he shoots me by mistake than anything else."
"Kufance! Lower the gun. He's got no reason to poison it… If he wanted to, he wouldn't go through all this trouble…"
Johnny reached out, took the pancake, and stared at Chen Che as he stuffed a piece straight into his mouth.
He chewed hungrily, then paused: surprise flickered across his face.
This… was delicious.
The dough was soft, the scent blooming in his mouth, tinged with the subtle sweetness of fermentation.
Johnny had never tasted a pancake this damn good.
It was better than the canned meat he'd paid top dollar for—more satisfying by far.
The taste blew Johnny away, but the next second his pupils shrank—he realized that the pain from Dream Kiss withdrawal, which had been crippling him, was vanishing fast with each bite.
The agony in his body was fading fast.
Did this insanely tasty pancake have Dream Kiss in it?
No.
The withdrawal was vanishing quickly, but he didn't feel the high—none of the Dream Kiss buzz.
It just killed the pain, no more, no less.
Why?
How did he do this?
Questions piled up in Johnny's brain.
The others saw the change in Johnny and looked at the pancake in Chen Che's hand with a mixture of curiosity and want. After eating, Johnny didn't look nearly as tortured as before.
Snapping out of it, Johnny snatched the rest of the pancake, broke off little pieces, and stuffed them into his sister's mouth by hand.
"Water! Water!"
Others hurried to bring water, and Johnny poured it down his sister's throat. Unconscious, she swallowed pancake and water down together.
The violent trembling subsided quickly.
Chen Che yawned. "I only brought one piece. If you can't hold on, split it and share—should help a little."
On hearing that, Johnny immediately handed the remaining pancake bits to the others. "For the ones who can't take it anymore—feed them some!"
The pancake vanished fast, broken into little pieces.
Honestly, Wildfire Gang's discipline surprised Chen Che a bit.
With a pastry that could kill pain, he'd half expected these thugs to fight over it.
But there was no grabbing, no chaos.
Even the black guy who'd been aiming a gun at him, though still trembling in pain, forced himself to say, "I can hold on. Let the others have it first…"
Those who really couldn't take it ate, and almost instantly their tremors eased.
You could see with your eyes—people were getting better.
And now every eye in the place was locked onto Chen Che.
Johnny saw his sister open her eyes, murmured reassurance, then looked up at Chen Che. "What's in that pancake? Dream Kiss?"