Wenhao 1979, starting with contributing to Story Club

Chapter 174 A Makeover

I rode my bicycle for about three miles.

On the main road, I witnessed several more car accidents and chaotic scenes. Without a doubt, it was the result of that pickup truck's machine gun blasting.

Fortunately, his own car, thanks to the skillful maneuvering of bodyguard Li He, managed to overcome numerous obstacles and prevent the attackers from succeeding.

Police cars with flashing red and blue lights were speeding through the streets.

However, given the unclear situation, Yu Zhen did not rashly stop the police car, reveal his identity, or seek protection from the police.

That's right.

He distrusted Officer Mi from the bottom of his heart.

Those damned Sardinian thugs, they just drove into the streets in pickup trucks and machine guns, committing murder and violence.

How could your police force be completely unaware of this news beforehand?

This is 1980, not the United States with its extremely negative global moral image. You are striving to become the world's leading power, and every industry is working hard to set an example for all mankind.

Including Lao Tzu, the world-class cultural figure you've all praised.

During this period, I've become a well-known figure both inside and outside the industry. My intention to return to the Asia-Pacific region to seek new developments has led to friction with certain parties. Under these circumstances, some people are trying to take advantage of the situation to resort to underhanded and dirty tricks.

As a police officer, he nominally controls the highest level of security in the city.

You guys are audacious enough to drive pickup trucks and machine guns into the streets and commit violence.

Was there really not even the slightest hint of news, and no prior notice at all?

Why can't he believe it's true?!

Even if we take a step back and assume that I have absolutely no goodwill towards the US police to begin with, what if there are some traitorous moles from the Sardinian gang infiltrated into the US police force? If I were to actively seek help from the US police at this moment, wouldn't I be walking into the lion's den?

We continued riding forward for a while longer.

Well, on the road mentioned earlier, there was a dozen or so cars that had collided together.

And finally, he saw his own car overturned by the roadside, the driver's side door open. The bodyguard, Li He, was being pulled from the car by the arriving police officer, Mi, who then carelessly tossed it onto the ground.

Yu Zhen's blood suddenly rushed to his head.

He had good hearing and good eyesight. At this moment, he was still a hundred paces away, surrounded by many onlookers. The scene was extremely noisy. Then, amidst the radio waves, he accurately captured a few keywords.

Several groups of police officers are rapidly exchanging keywords:

First, the target vehicle contained one deceased person;

Secondly, the Sardinian assassins failed.

Third, closely monitor the whereabouts of the primary target —

"I've seen it all! There really is someone in the US police force who's openly listing me as their number one target," and they also know that the person driving the pickup truck and using a machine gun to commit the crime is that "Sardinian Gang."

In an instant, Yu Zhen felt a chill run through his body. He was extremely grateful that he had managed to resist the urge to intercept the police car and reveal his identity.

Today's sudden turn of events, seemingly a scheme by the Sardinian gang to gain fame and fortune, actually involves the involvement of the US police. Without a doubt, it's a plot orchestrated by certain individuals within the US government.

I wonder if that old bastard Tang Jinmao heard any news about this beforehand?

For a moment, Yu Zhen was also unsure whether Tang Jinmao was involved in the plot.

Emotionally, I naturally tend to believe in Tang Jinmao's purity.

After all, Tang Jinmao owes his current status as a multi-billionaire to me. Unless he's completely brain-dead, this old guy should know what unforeseen consequences would come if I were gone.

Unfortunately, you can't see into someone's heart.

And ultimately, Tang Jinmao is a purebred redneck white man. Who the hell can know whether this so-called purebred redneck white man is also well-versed in the art of discarding someone after they've served their purpose? What if he happens to discover that such a situation is about to happen, but wants to simply go with the flow and make a painless cut-off, letting a third party humanely destroy him, and then taking some revenge at the right time?

In an instant, Yu Zhen had a clear understanding.

He knew that since the relevant authorities had already taken action, and this wave hadn't finished him off, there was a high probability that they would simply compound the situation and, regardless, pull some underhanded tricks to eliminate him completely before he was safely out of danger.

The death of bodyguard Li He already speaks volumes.

Right now, there are no longer any trustworthy so-called "circles of friends" among those who are not of our kind.

Even the onlookers might not be safe.

Yu Zhen lowered his head, quickly reached into his pocket and rummaged around for a while. Then he squeezed open a small pouch sewn into his pocket, squeezed the glue-like substance inside, and before anyone could notice him, he quickly smeared the substance from his palm onto his face.

Moments later, his entire face had become Blake-like.

From a typical East Asian face, he instantly transformed into a Black man, changing his image and identity amidst the onlookers.

Without a doubt, this tactic was used once before back in China.

That time, it was for some special reason. Qin Zhongkai personally assigned him the task of going undercover at Tsinghua and Peking Universities to clean up and rectify the problems with the school's atmosphere and discipline.

Living in North America, how could one not have prepared such ingenious methods for self-preservation?

A moment later, when Yu Zhen looked up again, the people around him could only see a lean, tall, dark-skinned man who was a common sight on the streets.

No one would ever imagine that a great writer from the East would possess such extraordinary disguise and face-changing skills, capable of instantly transforming from an East Asian appearance into the ubiquitous Blake youth.

The image changed, and there was that bicycle... wait, damn it, where's my bicycle?!

I was originally thinking of getting rid of the bicycle that I had temporarily borrowed.

Who would have thought that in the blink of an eye, just as he lowered his head and quickly rubbed his face to disguise himself, the bicycle was borrowed and taken away by another black guy without anyone noticing.

Sure enough, he glanced into the distance and saw a fellow creature, "Little Black," with mischievous, monkey-like eyes, riding that bicycle, weaving through the crowd and fleeing into the distance.

Then, immediately afterward, the police car radio signals were accurately detected in my ear once again.

"The target is escaping on a bicycle—the target is escaping on a bicycle—"

Hey, what a coincidence! I borrowed the attacker's bicycle on the roadside, and now the police have pinpointed me and know that it's me on the run.

Okay, okay, so the US police and the Sardinian gang were working together to ambush me, weren't they?!