Dow and Carbon-Based Monkey Breeding Guidelines

Chapter 1026: Inside the Wall (Part )

Chilabin stretched his body and stared at the place where the lone star fell. He seemed to wish he had a long neck like a giraffe so that he could look over the bushes that shaded the lakeside and see what was happening behind. His crowded features and protruding chin were similar to those of an ape, but his high hairline and short, hard hair revealed a broad, flat forehead. It was this feature that made his demeanor always look relaxed and peaceful rather than ferocious. But now, with the moonlight and the ripples of the river, Jania could clearly see several deep wrinkles on his forehead. Finally, he sighed heavily, "We have to hurry, head."

He pushed aside the bushes and walked to the side. His unprecedented worried look made Jania have many guesses, but she did not reveal her anxiety. Instead, she followed Chilabin's footsteps and used his broad body to reduce the obstruction of dense branches and trunks. "What was that just now?" She asked after passing through the bushes, "Is it a drone?"

"I suppose so."

"It just fell. Was it shot down by someone?"

"I don't think so." Chilabin answered absentmindedly. Jania herself did not quite believe this speculation. If those deployed on land and in the air were all Maggie Wall's men, then who would help them to eliminate her spies? The playwright's reaction clearly told her that it would not be their reinforcements. Even he did not like what he had just seen, so his pace became faster and faster, and finally he almost trotted. This was the first time Jania saw him running, and she was surprised to find that his running posture was very strange: his legs were not moving very hard, and even turned inward a little, but his jumping power was very strong, and each step was two or three steps ahead of her. From the perspective of others, he looked more like an astronaut walking on the moon. This combination of lightness and clumsiness was simply confusing.

She trotted along, following the gravity-defying astronaut. Thanks to her natural physique and years of forest roaming with Leo, she could handle a few kilometers of sprinting in the dark of the countryside, and having a stronger leader made the challenge easier, but it was difficult to distract herself with conversation. Not only did she have no time to speak, but even the usually talkative playwright was completely silent during the journey; he ran as fast as he could, focusing on his jumps, and spent most of the time staring at his feet, only occasionally raising his head to look around them, and then continuing to walk.

Just as the playwright had said, after running for a few minutes along a small rugged and desolate mound, they came face to face with a river bend that cut in at an angle. The moonlight shone on the turbulent river surface, making the rippling waves reflect on the grass by the river, like a pale mirage rolling constantly. The wind blew the moisture from the river, a kind of flowery fragrance with a greasy smell. Jania had smelled the smell of many kinds of water sources before: forest streams permeated with the fragrance of plants and trees, salty and pungent beach water, stagnant ponds with the smell of fish and sulfur, and even stinking ditches infiltrated with chemical wastewater and human and animal feces, but the smell from this river was very unfamiliar to her. She had to breathe heavily while running, so she inhaled more of the smell of the river water - somehow, this made her feel dazed and confused, and she felt that she came here just to chase the river. This pursuit made her feel so relaxed and happy; but at the same time, she felt dizzy and felt as if she would fall headfirst off the slope if she was not careful.

The more she tried to identify the smell, the stronger the mixed feeling of pleasure and sleepiness became. When she was drowsy and almost tripped over a small tree root at her feet, Chilabin suddenly jumped over and pressed her shoulder hard with his cold and hard fingers. Jania screamed in pain, and Fina immediately emerged from the dark grass, jumped onto her shoulder, and opened her mouth full of sharp teeth towards Chilabin.

"Calm down, calm down." Chilabin said, taking two steps back. "I'm helping you, boss."

Jania breathed, nodded hastily, and gently pushed Fina off her shoulder. "What's in this river?"

"Nothing," said Chilabin. "There's nothing in the river, head. Don't think about it. It's all right as long as you don't think about it. Don't pay attention to it, or anything else around you, just think about whatever you want."

Jania rubbed her shoulders vigorously. "You've already stuffed the pink elephant into my head, Captain. How do you expect me to forget it?"

"I don't want to be like this, Boss. It would be nice if you didn't feel anything, but now that you've got this, you have to learn to distract yourself. Maybe you could think of a chocolate elephant."

Jania turned her face away from the river bank. On the high slope, the skeletons of several abandoned factories lay lifelessly in front of the night. "Can't we take another route? Don't get too close to the river."

"That's not a good idea. Following the river is the safest way to ensure we get to our destination, especially in this situation. If we go by our own sense of direction, I have no idea where we'll end up."

According to common sense, Jania thought it was impossible for them to lose a building target within two kilometers, with a clear direction and distinct features. However, she also realized that she was gradually stepping into a field that was beyond the reach of common sense, so she decided not to go against the grain in this matter. "Then let's keep going." She muttered angrily, and simply pinched her nose hard, hoping to reduce the sensitivity of her sense of smell through pain, "Let me forget about this elephant by myself."

"Or maybe you can just rest here for a while? And think about the happy things in your life?"

Jania took the suggestion as a contemptuous joke. She immediately raised the weapon in her hand threateningly - fortunately, she didn't let it slip out of her hand during her trance. "Don't think about getting rid of me, Captain. Don't forget that I have conditions for releasing you."

"Well, it seems we have no choice but to continue the adventure. Maybe you will see some strange things later, but as long as we stay calm, I think we should be able to get through it. However, if your life is really in danger, then I can't take you any further."

"I must find my brother." Jania said firmly, and she did not forget to say in return, "Even if you fall down halfway, I will leave you behind and keep going."

Chilabin smiled silently. This scene was seen by Jania in the moonlight, and she noticed that although his tone of voice seemed urgent, his feet were planted firmly on the ground, and his hands were pressed tightly against his wide-legged overalls. Not only did his body language contradict his verbal expression, but even his eyes revealed melancholy in the darkness, and even made people feel that he was a little scared, as if he had suddenly lost his original carefree attitude and had become a completely different person.

There was an ominous feeling coming from the playwright's depressed and melancholy brow. Jania immediately understood what the description of "dead face" she had seen in the book meant, and she also understood a strange secret: although she was uncomfortable because of the smell of the river just now, the one who really didn't want to move forward was the playwright; on the one hand, he was so anxious and anxious, as if he was afraid of missing the opportunity, but on the other hand, he was afraid to continue forward and face their final destination. This contradictory emotion was tormenting him, making him more like an ordinary person than ever before. She was no longer angry because he seemed to despise her, and she couldn't help but feel a little sympathy. The playwright might not be a good person - well, most likely not a good person - but so far they got along well, and he was at least a much more decent and amiable villain than Colein.

"What's the matter with you, Captain?"

Chilabin laughed again. But this time, Jania saw clearly that his lips twitched so stiffly that there was no joy at all, not even a pretense. "I..." Chilabin said slowly, "I was thinking about some private things of my own, just some family matters."

"You don't look well either. Is this place affecting you?"

"No, no, my situation is different from yours. This kind of environment is nothing to me, because I have been to many similar places before, and I have some experience... But this time is also very special to me, so I am a little... Let's put it this way, I have some fantasies."

"Thinking about your family matters?"

"Alas, it's not worth mentioning." Chilabin said, his eyes avoiding Jania's gaze, "It's not a story worth stopping to discuss now. It's very ordinary and simple, and it doesn't mean anything to outsiders. It's just that I'm not very interesting to begin with, and there are no surprises in my destiny... Let's go."

Jania had never thought that the playwright would evaluate himself in this way. As she watched him slowly turn around and continue along the river, an idea that she had never considered before jumped out of her mind. If she had thought it through carefully, she would immediately understand that this idea was very unwise, but at that time, driven by the atmosphere and a little inner emotion, she could be said to have stopped him without thinking and said that flash of thought: "Maybe you can not go."

Chilabin looked at her, then at the end of the river. He did not comment on the proposal, but just asked, "What gave you this idea, head?"

"I don't think you particularly want to go. Besides, it's dangerous for you... I understand that Maggie Wall wants you dead. So if you can tell me what to pay attention to when going there, maybe I can go there alone."

"You know a little bit why Maggie needs me, right?" Chilabin asked calmly.

In fact, as soon as this bad idea came out of her mouth, Jania had already regretted it a little. She found that she should not have made such a generous promise to the playwright from all angles, but she was not in a hurry to change her mind, because she saw that Chilabin himself was not particularly enthusiastic about this proposal. As he said before, the playwright did not go there specifically to help her, but for something he had to do - something related to the sea monster - but this thing actually made a guy like him panic, and Jania couldn't help but think about how dangerous it would be. She thought back to the scene when they first met. It was also a dark night, and it was raining on the beach. The playwright's skin looked bloody and flayed. The effect of horror. That made her suspicious at the time, but now Jania felt that it was more like a bad omen against the playwright himself, as if the road ahead would be a dead end for her and her escape partner.

She considered the idea a few final times. "If I let you go here," she asked, "will you sneak away by yourself and let the world end here for us?"

"Look, you can't just trust other people's verbal promises."

"I'm just curious about how you would answer this question. That doesn't mean I believe it."

Chilabin grinned, his broad forehead flattened again, showing a false sense of happiness and relief. "If you really let me go," he said without any hesitation, and seemed quite sincere, "and I am also ready to give up this adventure, then I will not sneak away quietly, because that would not be of much benefit to me, and Maggie might really be finished, I don't want to see such a result - however, the premise of this matter is not established, because I am not ready to give up this adventure. Compared with Maggie, I can't let you get into trouble."

"You're not going to Dongyun Road just for me."

"Yes, yes, for the sea monster. But the two are not contradictory. I think the current situation is just right, and there is no better situation. But if something happens to you - it's unlikely, but it's better to be cautious - the situation may be completely reversed. I don't want to waste all my efforts."

Jania sneered at his statement. She was not prepared to make any judgment on the truth of this statement. After all, the Sea Monster Team was not a loyal and solid alliance. They were brought together entirely by batons or guns, curiosity and sweet talk. What satisfied her was that the playwright's strange expression, which was completely different from his usual expression, disappeared. It seemed that he had indeed regained his confidence, and with it, the terrifying death omen on his face was swept away. "Since you think this is the best situation now," she began to walk ahead by herself, "we can definitely sneak in there smoothly and accomplish our respective goals, right?"

When she was about to overtake him, Chilabin followed her, keeping one or two steps ahead of her. "I can't guarantee that everything will go smoothly," he said cheerfully, his pace gradually quickening, "but at least the most important omen is auspicious, and a small deviation in direction cannot change this."

Jania didn't know what the signs and deviations he was talking about were. She wanted to ask more clarification, but in order to make up for the pause just now, Chilabin's speed increased even faster than before, so she had to sprint from time to time to catch up. She had no time to speak, nor did she have much energy to think about the playwright's reaction just now, because she had to focus on the dark and rugged night road in front of her to make sure she didn't sprain her ankle or fall because of carelessness. Not only that, she had another concern in her mind, that is, even if they bypassed the road full of obstacles, it didn't necessarily avoid all the traps set by Maggie Wall (or other obstructionists). The triangular spikes on the road can block freight or occasional passing vehicles, but they can't stop people who are determined to go to No. 206 Dongyun Road.

It was strange that they had not encountered any ambushers until now. In fact, the fact that they had driven here so smoothly had made Jania suspicious. If Maggie Wall was as powerful as Miffy said, then even if Jania lost her mobile phone, she should have been able to figure out their whereabouts after they escaped from "Gun Flower", and even intercepted them long ago. Maybe some trouble tripped her up? But Jania didn't think she was dead, which was what she heard from Chilabin's words. She couldn't help but suspect that there were other traps on the road they were taking, and many nerve-wracking assumptions flashed through her mind while running, such as tripwires, pits, traps, mines... She didn't know where Maggie Wall's bottom line was, so although she felt a little guilty, she continued to let the playwright lead the way and deliberately kept a distance, so that if she really encountered a pit with a sharp bamboo stick at the bottom... At least the playwright was a guy who was not easy to kill, right? He might be injured and unable to move, but at least Jania could keep going. And she had to go, no matter how great the risk, no matter if it meant leaving behind her injured or even dying temporary partner. She couldn't miss tonight, because the clock was running out and the story was about to end; she had waited for so many silent nights filled with ghosts, waiting for that chance to leap up, but missed it at the last minute? She should be able to do it, she came here to do it!

Chilabin's back was prancing nimbly in front of her. In the dark, his posture was more like a giant rabbit man that only appeared in fairy tales or ghost stories. This made Jania's fantasy about the trap more and more realistic. She also found that the route they were walking on was not purely natural, because the grass and trees along the river were too short and flat, and it seemed that they had been trimmed and taken care of in the past few months, but there were no stones or tiles. It was hard to imagine that someone just forgot about this path when they planned to block the area.

She thought it was impossible that the person ahead of her would not notice this, but Chilabin showed no concern about it. They ran with their heads down, hearing nothing but the sound of the wind, and Jania no longer smelled the strange smell coming from the river, because she was breathing through her mouth and deliberately not observing her surroundings too carefully. But the more she tried to focus on running, the more time seemed so long and unbearable. She began to think that this was a journey that would never end. She would always follow the phantom full of secrets in front of her, running non-stop on the road to the answer, but she would never be able to reach the end. Is there any meaning to this adventure? The exhaustion of running all day made it difficult for her to think. But now her back was just as far away, she had reached the middle of the single-plank bridge, and there was no room for retreat.

The wind in their faces grew stronger; they must have reached some more open area. But now the moonlight was dim. Not because of clouds, but because the moon itself had lost its brilliance, like a flashlight that had run out of power, or an old mirror covered with dust, making one wonder if its true source, the sun that now shone on the other side of the planet beneath their feet, had suddenly dimmed its light, determined to abandon forever the small world it nurtured. On this stage that was about to be abolished and forgotten, even though the whistling of the wind told them how empty it was around them, there was still no artificial light to be found, as if this earthly theater had long since stopped operating and was not preparing to perform the final performance they were rushing to; except for the small space under their feet and the dim and gloomy wild paths within a few meters around them, Jania could not distinguish the outlines of the shadows in the distance that were deeper than the night sky. She remembered the night she and the playwright went on an adventure at sea, but tonight was even darker than that night. This was - or would be - the darkest night of her life. This was still human territory, the edge of human settlement, but she felt like she was lost in the real wilderness... She had been in this situation before. Yes, this was not the first time.

The memory actually extended at such a moment. As she panted and sweated, and the blood in her body kept sending power to her leg muscles, some past events that had been deposited between her prefrontal and temporal cortices suddenly rose from the depths of the sulci. It was originally just scattered fragments of information, but through the extraction and integration of the nervous system, it was restored to a series of perceptions in the situation: the strange colors of the dark night in the forest, the heavy sound of the wind hitting the branches, the pain of the wound and the fear of having nowhere to seek help. At that time, she broke her leg... No, this was an exaggerated injury in her childhood imagination, because she returned home safely the next morning, and a fracture could not be healed overnight. That night, she must have slept for several hours, so she had a lot of hazy and fantastic dreams, which were intertwined with her real situation, so that when she was a child, she completely confused the two. It was she who told Malcolm the illusions of the butterfly trees and fish-tailed fairies with shimmering pink scales, allowing the colorful and dreamy paint to cover up the true background of terrible doom.

Now, she was back in that situation. Years after she had escaped from the woods, the hidden misfortune reappeared from the weathering of time, proving that it had not really been shaken off. It would come back to her, to demand the prey it should have caught that night; it would never accept nothing, and if the bird in the net flew away by chance, leaving the forest hungry, it would now demand the person who rescued the bird. Jania stumbled. She kicked the sharp corner of a stone, and if the toe of her running shoes had not been strong enough, this minor accident would have broken her toe. She had to stop walking, and her mind was confused about everything: the past, the present, the loss in the woods, her brother's disappearance, the fairies, the playwright... She was no longer so sure where she was, whether she was invading or escaping. She looked around again and suddenly realized that she was only a few steps away from the water, but the water surface became very calm and no longer made a turbulent sound. She didn't know when she had left the riverside and was brought to the shore of a lake by Chilabin.

She quickly leaned over to touch the stone that nearly broke her toe. It had a sharp edge and a flat side. It didn't look like a natural weathering product, but a man-made product, some equipment part or building debris. In just a few seconds, Chilabin in front of her was about to run into the darkness beyond her sight. Jania couldn't delay any longer, but she was worried that there were other broken stones at her feet, or even broken steel bars or rusty nails. She tried to look far away and saw a faint light jumping in the distance. It should be an ornament on the playwright's belt. Somehow it could be so eye-catching in the dark.

Instinctively, Jania recalled the playwright's outfit today: a flannel shirt with red and white plaid, a creased brown leather vest, and a pair of overalls. Apart from the different skin color, this outfit was not much different from that of many men strolling on the street; but the overalls did have a belt, not made of leather but of rope, with colorful and fine patterns, which looked a bit out of place hanging around the playwright's waist. There were several decorative buckles on the belt, but in her impression, they were all dark and gray, like rocks or wood products that had been through a lot of time, and the shape was like some twisted knots. She could not recall more details based on the quick impression, but she could at least be sure that none of those buckles could shine in the dark night, even under the brightest and most appropriate moonlight, as she saw in her eyes at this moment.

At the moment, this was a trivial puzzle, not even important enough to make Jania think about it. But before she could clear her mind and start chasing the owner of the flashing belt buckle, this harmless suspense suddenly turned the situation around. A red dot like a firefly suddenly appeared in Jania's field of vision, and it circled several times quickly, like someone using a laser pointer to tease a cat, and the circle became smaller and smaller, and finally locked on the silver-white light that jumped up and down. Jania hadn't figured out whether she should shout for warning, a whistle far louder than the wind passed in front of her, and then there was a splashing sound from the lake, as if something had crashed into the lake. The jumping light in front of her immediately stopped moving. Jania bent down without thinking and lay down in the grass next to the gravel.

The red light did not disappear, nor did it stop flying around. It first stopped at the glimmer of light on the playwright's waist, then moved up slowly and steadily, showing impeccable control. Through this behavior with obvious warning intent, Jania, who was lying not far away, also knew that the playwright should be standing still and had not been shot down by anyone. She basically concluded that the previous shot did not hit the playwright, at most it was a warning not to act rashly, so she looked back at her legs, but did not find any trace of Fina. This did not make her particularly worried, it must be hiding nearby. So she kept crawling and moved towards the lake with the lightest and safest movements. If a red dot fell on her later, the lake could be considered an emergency escape route. But she was not ready to do so at the moment, because it would not be easy for her to sneak into No. 206 Dongyun Road alone without the playwright to lead the way; the weapons she stole from Matitao might not be waterproof; and, after all, she was a little reluctant to see her old partner being killed like this.

She decided to stay and wait and see how many enemies there were around them and how many of them were armed. As long as the conditions were right, she could still use the same trick and rely on Fina's sneak attack to resolve the crisis. Perhaps the playwright had the same idea as her, so he did not shout at Jania to run away, but waited there honestly, and said loudly in a very humble and polite tone: "Everyone! No matter who you are, I am just an unarmed and harmless person. My life depends on your mercy!"

Several beams of light lit up in the darkness, approaching the lake in a fan shape. One of the light sources came from behind Jania, shining through her head and onto the playwright's back. Although these beams of light did not illuminate her figure, they almost completely cut off her retreat. She observed attentively and felt that there were at least a dozen people with rustling footsteps and swaying figures, and they were not close to each other. According to the most optimistic estimate, the light source in front of the playwright and the one behind her feet were at least fifty meters apart. In such a wide and flat place, if these people were carrying sufficient night vision equipment, Fina might not be able to gain the upper hand. But so far, these people have not shown that they have discovered her. Jania hopes that this is because their vision is still affected by the darkness.

The besiegers stopped when they were about 20 meters away. On the left side of the playwright—in the center of the entire semicircular encirclement—a voice shouted, "Raise your hands."

At the convergence point of more than a dozen beams of light, Jania saw the playwright raise his hands high. He did not bend his elbows like a common surrenderer, only raising his forearms, but he held his entire arm straight up, with his ten fingers spread wide, looking even a little funny, as if he had just stretched his waist and was frozen. However, no one laughed at him, and the besiegers were all very quiet, only a certain tension brewing in the gradually strengthening night wind. Even though the playwright was obviously empty-handed, these people still treated him as a formidable enemy and did not relax at all.

In the deadlock of silence, a person - in terms of position and voice, he looked very much like the person who had just spoken - suddenly sneezed violently, and then began to blow his nose. The light source in that direction flickered, and then there was a rustling sound of footsteps, and someone walked into Jania's sight along the direction of the light beam. When he spoke, although his voice was a little muffled because he was rubbing his nose violently, there was no doubt that he was the guy who had just spoken. This person's hair was still black, but all the signs showed that he was not young. He did not hold any weapons in his hands, but kept applying some kind of ointment on his face, especially around his nose. His nose tip was shining under the ointment, as red as a layer of rouge.

The old man looked at the playwright in the light, looking at him very carefully. "What do you do?" He asked casually, like a security guard in a residential area questioning a stranger strolling by the door.

"I'm here to visit a new friend," Chilabin replied respectfully and friendly. "I know the exact address, but this is my first visit. Could you please show me the way?"

The old man was looking at him while carefully rubbing his face, trying to absorb the shiny ointment around his nose into his skin. His brows were furrowed as if he was applying chili oil or stinky swill on his face. He was about to speak when he sneezed again.

"Alas," sniffed the old fellow, "this is the season!"

"It's too dry." Chilabin took over the conversation enthusiastically, as if he was also a member of the ambushers. "Too dry air is not good for skin care. The wind here is so strong, it's not suitable for people with skin diseases at all."

"I've been running around outside for the past month," said the old man with the red nose. "I was almost fully recovered. But the sun was so strong this month that I didn't even have time to apply sunscreen."

"There has been too little rain this year," Chilabin agreed.

"I took some time out a few days ago to see a doctor," the old man continued. "I told him that the medicine I was using wasn't working and asked him to give me something else. He told me that it wasn't the medicine that was the problem, but that I was under too much stress and that I should smoke and drink less and pay attention to my rest and work schedule. He also said that I shouldn't stay up late at my age, otherwise the attack would be more severe."

"That's right!" Chilabin said enthusiastically, "I have the same experience. When investors put pressure on me, I always get a headache, as if there is a tumor in my head. That's a completely terminal illness, and it will soon kill me. But once I have nothing to do, the disease will be cured immediately, and I will be healthy and sharp-minded again. This is the poison of work. Work is the real root of the disease, don't you think?"

"That's what I said," said the old man. "It's true. I'm old and have no children. I'm not short of money, but I still can't live a comfortable life. It's all because of work. People go out to work to be bullied! Bullied! No matter how much money you're paid, you'll be bullied! The boss pays you to be bullied! Don't I deserve to be happy every day? Can this little money make up for the illness caused by my anger?"

"You're so angry!" the playwright said sympathetically. He almost moved Jania to tears as she rolled her eyes and secretly aimed her gun at the old man.

The old man finally spread the ointment on his face. His frown, which had been caused by the smell or irritating ingredients of the ointment, finally relaxed, and it seemed that the ointment really relieved the discomfort on his skin. He exhaled fiercely and said, "I have to take care of myself! I have to enjoy life! What's the point of thinking about the boss? As long as it is good for my health, I should do it as I like, regardless of whether the boss is happy or not!"

"Great words!" said the playwright.

The old man squinted his eyes with satisfaction at the playwright, as if he had met another fellow fisherman with an empty bucket while fishing in the park, which was enough to dispel the embarrassment and anger caused by this setback. Once he found that his views were so recognized and understood, he suddenly became kind and smiling, as if he had forgotten the work he was cursing loudly just now, and had made up his mind to live a happy life from this moment on with a healthy body, a clear mind, a reasonable work and rest schedule, and nodding to the playwright with approval. He waved his hand calmly and nodded approvingly at the playwright.

"Kill him," said the old man.

Instantly, Jania clearly heard several bolt sounds coming from all around her, and at least ten red dots flashed on the playwright's back. This laser sight that used visible light was only suitable for close-range rapid shooting according to Malcolm's experience. Couldn't such a mysterious group of guys know how to use night vision goggles or infrared aiming? This question flashed through her mind, but she didn't have time to think about it, because those red dots were not aimed at the playwright's head, but were scattered all over his body as if they had been planned in advance. Judging from the location of the red dots, if the sight was installed on a submachine gun or a fully automatic pistol, then the first round of firing would have killed the playwright, even if he hid a second head in his armpit.

At this point, even if Miffy was considerate, she couldn't save Chilabin. She had no choice but to jump up from the ground and aim at the old man from behind the playwright. She was already risking her life by doing this, because when she jumped up, her body was enough to block two or three red dots that should have fallen on the playwright. If these people were not well-trained, or were too well-trained, her recklessness would lead to reflexive firing. She could only bet that these people were like Maggie Wall's men in "Guns and Flowers", and were not willing to kill people rashly - wasn't their use of visible laser sights instead of infrared sights intended to intimidate? They would rather enhance the deterrent effect than the real offensive efficiency. This is not a truly professional assassination organization.

If her risky guess was correct, in other words, she was not shot the moment she showed up, Jania had already thought of her next move. She had to hold the old man with a gun, and then yell "No one move" to attract attention to herself. If Miffy was as smart as she had shown before and had not yet run away (at least Fina would not abandon her and run away, Jania was very sure of this), she would seize this opportunity to deal with their opponents. As long as she bought enough time, she could break through one by one, quietly deal with all these people from the outermost edge, and it would only take a minute or two at most. Then she could even take hostages, such as the old man who was obviously of high status.

"No one move!" She shouted and jumped out of the bushes. At the moment of life and death, she felt that her leap was infinitely long, and she could bounce directly from the ground to the unreachable moon. When her feet were firmly on the ground again, she was not even sure whether she was really not shot - the sound of the wind and her own shouting muffled her hearing, and she almost lost the feeling of her body. Fortunately, her hand holding the gun was very steady. Although this was the second time she pointed the gun at a living person (if Luo De could be considered a living person), she knew that she was indeed aiming at the old man's chest. She was not sure that she could hit the head at once, and she didn't really want to kill anyone.

The old man's eyes had shifted from the playwright to her. He undoubtedly saw the muzzle of the gun aimed at him, but he acted as if he didn't see it. He just looked at her appearance with the light from the edge of the spotlight, as if he wanted to find some evidence from her facial features. His kind and almost funny face was like a thin paper mask that was stuck to his face with a little stickiness; behind the two narrow cracks cut in the middle of the mask, flashed a sinister and cruel look full of ferocity and coldness. Under that look, Jania suddenly realized that her previous judgment might be completely wrong.

"So," the old man wiped his face with his fingers again, "you are the little girl who is looking for someone everywhere? You want to know where your elder brother is?"

Jania felt a chill on the back of her neck. She reminded herself that she had to talk more and not let others know of Fina's presence. "Don't move," she ignored the old man's words, "Tell your people to put down their guns."

"Otherwise?" asked the old man.

"Otherwise I'll shoot. It's no good falling into your hands anyway."

The old man still looked at her as if he could not see the muzzle of the gun. She did not have any strong evidence, but just as she could smell a strong strange smell from Colein or Rod, she now felt strongly that the old man in front of her was not as friendly to her as he said. Unlike the elusive playwright or the bluffing Matitao, this old man was really thinking about killing her. This was no longer a fairy tale adventure that would always give minors a break. If she wanted to move forward tonight, she had to be mentally prepared to face cruel consequences. She had to make up her mind.

"You've never shot a gun at anyone, girl?" the old man said amiably. "Do you know what it feels like to put a bullet into a living thing with your own hands? Or have you ever stabbed someone with a knife and watched the blood spurt out of the artery?"

"That doesn't sound like much," Jania said. "Have you ever tried to go to school and take care of a grown beagle at the same time, old man?"

The person whose name she couldn't remember looked at her, and slowly grinned, a smile that looked more like showing off her sharp teeth: "You are really your brother's good sister."

A nameless fire suddenly burned up from the bottom of Jania's heart. The dream she had in the car not long ago, and the anger that erupted at the last moment of the dream reappeared in her mind. The old man in the white vest in front of her was strangely associated with the fake psychiatrist. Because they both smelled of blood, she thought, those sharp teeth, the smile-like expression of the beast showing its teeth! This old thing was proud and gloating over the person she was looking for...

In front of her, a beam of light shining on the playwright swayed slightly, and the dazzling circles of light made her blink. In that moment of less than a second, the old man she was watching did not change at all, neither gestured nor winked, and there was no obvious sign of sending a signal to his accomplices, but Jania's chest was suddenly gripped by a terrible premonition of danger. She glanced at a red dot that suddenly appeared on the palm of her hand holding the gun. Maybe it was just a warning - no, she no longer thought so. The old guy really wanted to kill her. He wanted to kill the playwright, and then kill her. Maybe this man had already killed her brother. This old man with beast teeth could do anything. Now that things have come to this point, now that she has returned to the forest that she had escaped from in her childhood, all she can do is to face her fate. But she will not lie there honestly and wait for the wild wolves in the forest to gnaw her bones. She must have made progress in the years she escaped from the hands of death.

She pulled the trigger amid the roar of a wild animal. In the darkness behind the beams of light, she could vaguely hear many other people pulling the trigger. She imagined that a red spot similar to the playwright's was flashing on her back, and would soon become a bleeding wound. Many stories in the world could have been better, but in the end they all ended so hastily and abruptly, with the raging fire and the diffuse smoke covering up the blood that soaked the earth.

However, this time only, nothing happened. Except for the sound of wind and the doubtful, tentative sound of trigger pulling, no bullet jumped out of the muzzle of the gun. Jania tried twice more. She was sure that the gun had not been on safety since it was seized from the original owner, and she could also feel that the trigger was pulled very smoothly, so this was definitely not a common low-level mistake. Did Marti Tao do something before being controlled that caused the misfire? It was hard for her to believe it, because at this moment, not only her, but everyone's weapons seemed to have encountered the same problem, and they had no idea about such a strange and funny result. They all clicked randomly like Jania, as if some mischievous elf had quietly come out and stole all the bullets of everyone at the scene. Only the playwright laughed in surprise and stared at something in the darkness in the distance.

"Maggie!" he cried warmly, "I'm so glad to see you're all right. I knew you had something up your sleeve."

A beam of light shone in the direction he was looking. Jania opened her eyes wide to look at the empty grass, but there was no figure of the man in red there, not even a shadow of a person. Just when she was about to suspect that the playwright was bluffing, there was indeed a rustling sound of something moving in the grass. Something with thin legs and a black body, only the size of a palm, emerged from the grass. At first glance, it was a giant black spider with a strange body that was close to a rectangular block, a circle of dark red eyes surrounding the torso, and four pairs of slender and flexible legs. However, what was extremely inconsistent with the characteristics of the Arachnida was that the front pair of these eight legs were not used for walking, but were held high like the claws of a crab.

This strange-looking creature used its six long legs to crawl through the grass and came to the inside of the encirclement. Then a familiar voice came from its square box-like body: "Good evening, Mr. Chilabin."

(End of this chapter)