The next afternoon, a car pulled out of Little China, heading east toward Westbrook.
Jackie was at the wheel, his small eyes still heavy with sleep. He yawned and muttered drowsily.
"The Padre's intel was pretty detailed. Do we really need to head out this early?"
In the passenger seat, Arthur tugged his gambler's hat down over his face. His muffled voice came from beneath the brim.
"That intel's a few days old. Who knows if something's changed? Maybe the goods are important enough that Huang got involved himself. We can't just walk in blind."
Jackie kept one hand on the wheel, using the other to knock his forehead sharply. He didn't argue—just forced a crooked smile.
"We shouldn't have drunk so much last night if we had work today. My head feels like it's buzzing with a hive of bees."
Thinking back to yesterday, the three of them had talked more as they drank, then drank more as they talked, trapped in a vicious cycle that lasted until midnight.
The memory drew a broader grin from Jackie .
"I may be a rough bastard, but having a brother like you watching my back really puts me at ease."
Under the brim, Arthur's expression was resigned. After everything, he still ended up being the steady one.
Fine. Just as long as no lunatic like Micah Bell shows up again.
Traffic on the highway moved quickly now, and Jackie straightened up, steering with more focus as he followed the eastbound flow.
Then came a thunderous boom ahead on the overpass, followed by an explosion and thick, rolling smoke.
"What the hell!"
Jackie 's grip tightened on the wheel.
The blast jolted Arthur upright. His eyes locked on the chaos ahead, his cybernetic ocular implant—the newest model Vik had hooked him up with—kicking in instantly.
At his thought, the scene zoomed and sharpened. Several cars had collided, tumbling out of control at high speed, slamming and rolling across the asphalt.
The first few exploded, fire and black smoke shooting skyward. But Arthur looked closer—those burning wrecks weren't cars. They were seven or eight motorcycles.
That was all he needed to know.
"Tyger Claws, most likely. Not sure what set them off, but they're sure as hell not here for traffic control."
"Looks like trouble up ahead." Jackie muttered. Arthur started to duck back into the car—
But a split second later, through the choking smoke, a luxury sedan burst out in the wrong lane, completely out of control, rolling straight toward them.
"Holy shit! Wrong way on the highway!"
Even at a time like this, Jackie couldn't keep his mouth shut.
There was no dodging at that speed. Both men flung open their doors and jumped.
They rolled hard to absorb the impact, scrambling back to their feet together.
Luckily, the drivers behind had already slowed down after spotting the accident. Otherwise, Arthur and Jackie would've ended up plastered under someone's bumper.
Jackie's borrowed car was crushed into a wreck, while the luxury sedan barely showed a dent.
"Hope your ride's insured—or pray the rich asshole speeding the wrong way in his fancy toy pays up."
Arthur muttered as he approached the overturned car.
Jackie shook his head, still rattled.
"Damn… lucky we moved fast, or we'd be flattened like roadkill."
The sedan's wheels still spun in the air. Arthur crouched to peer inside.
A figure slumped over the wheel, unconscious, wearing the yellow uniform of a Trauma Team outer-ring member.
Arthur frowned. The guy looked like the thief he'd run into on the Skyrail a few days back.
He kicked the door a few times. No response. He glanced at Jackie.
"How do you get this thing open?"
Jackie tugged on the handle with a shrug.
"High-end junk like this? If it doesn't want to open, not even a cannon'll help."
Right then, the door on Jackie's side flew open—kicked out by a slender leg.
Two sleek black combat boots slid out, followed by pale hands gripping the car's undercarriage.
A figure flipped out in one motion.
Short, choppy pink-white hair framed a pair of sparkling fox-like eyes—eyes that widened at the sight of Arthur. Recognition flashed between them.
She quickly regained her composure, vaulted from the overturned chassis, and ran to Arthur's side.
Without a word, she yanked a link cable from her wrist and jammed it into the interface on the door.
Her eyes flickered, and the lock clicked open.
Barely half a minute had passed since the crash and their escape from the car when a strange, unhinged wailing tore through the smoke, accompanied by the roar of engines.
Six motorcycles burst out of the haze, charging straight at them.
No questions. No words. Just manic howls.
Weapons flashed as they raised them and launched their assault.
Arthur reacted instantly—grabbing the girl and pulling her to cover behind the sedan.
The attackers leaned low, trying to drag the unconscious boy out of the car, but this was no time for rescues.
A spray of bullets hammered the luxury car, ricocheting harmlessly away.
Three riders circled around—two drawing katana, the third releasing his grips as twin blades slid out from his forearms.
They raised their weapons high, grinning like demons as their roaring engines propelled them forward.
Arthur's left hand still gripped the girl by the collar. His right slid to his waist, fingers brushing something cold and heavy.
The pistol. Big. Icy. The one he'd taken off that Scav when he woke up.
A Malorian Arms kinetic revolver. Crude, powerful. Its name—Prelude.
Beneath the gambler's hat, Arthur's eyes narrowed. A slow breath left his lips as his heartbeat skipped a beat.
For an instant, it felt like time itself had stopped.
Then—Prelude sang. A thunderclap, sharp as firecrackers.
And just like that, the gunman holstered his weapon, casually shaking out his numbed wrist.
The shot had lasted only a heartbeat.
But across the way, six enemies collapsed. Six neat holes marked their foreheads, filling the air with silence and blood.
One shot. Six lives.
The girl sat stunned on the ground, eyes locked on the carnage.
Arthur strode to the door, reached in, and hauled the unconscious boy out himself.
Jackie was still frozen, so Arthur snapped at him.
"Hey, Jackie. Our car's done for."
He jerked his head toward the mess behind them.
Many drivers had already abandoned their vehicles, scattering in panic. Several cars sat wide open, some still smoking.
Jackie shook himself out of his daze.
"Wait here."
He sprinted off, quickly hotwiring a car and pulling it up. Arthur slid into the passenger seat.
But to his surprise, the girl followed—and shoved the unconscious boy into the back.
Arthur spun around.
"You… why are you coming with us? We've got business to handle."
She met his look with calm certainty.
"Hello, sir. My name is Lucy. Don't worry—we won't get in your way. Just take us to your destination."
Yeah, right. Who knew how many more Tyger Claws were lurking around…
The thought flickered through Lucy's mind.
...
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