Chapter 893: On the Road

Chapter 893: On the Road

That evening, Li Huowang lay fully dressed upon his bed, awaiting the arrival of the others.

Just as the wall clock struck twelve, a harsh, metallic screech pierced the air; the steel factory doors had been shoved open.

He gathered his belongings and stepped out of the factory to find two off-road vehicles idling, their high beams blinding him.

"Get in," Zhao Shuangdian’s voice rang out from behind the searing white glare.

As Li Huowang reached the door, he saw not only Zhao Shuangdian and the Ba siblings, but also two men and a woman he did not recognize.

He cast a glance at them, pulled open the rear door, and slid inside, only to feel something beneath him on the seat.

He reached down to investigate and discovered two military knives resting in their sheaths.

Drawing them out, he realized they were his own, the dried blood still clinging to the blades.

"Thanks," Li Huowang said to Zhao Shuangdian in the passenger seat.

The engine roared to life, and the vehicles sped toward the airport.

"Don't mention it. When the lips are gone, the teeth are cold. Just remember, we are on the same side; I won't harm you."

Li Huowang sheathed the blades and strapped them to his back. "It would be better if I had a bulletproof vest."

Zhao Shuangdian did not respond; she rubbed her temples, her brows furrowed as if lost in thought.

Li Huowang turned his gaze to the other three. The driver was a rugged, bearded man; despite the winter chill, he wore only a short-sleeved shirt, seemingly unfazed by the cold.

The man beside him was gaunt and cold-eyed, his nimble fingers incessantly flipping a coin.

The last was a girl, frail and bespectacled, appearing delicate, though she suffered from a tic that caused her face to twitch periodically.

Li Huowang scrutinized them, wondering which Sīmìng they represented. "That bearded man has the air of the Strategist of the Military Sīmìng."

"Don't you think it's rude to stare?" the gloomy man asked, turning his gaze from the window toward Li Huowang.

"Li Huowang," he said, extending a hand, but the man did not take it.

"I know who you are. You're famous; who doesn't know the name Li Huowang?" the man muttered, turning back to the window.

Sensing their cold indifference, Li Huowang lost interest and turned to Zhao Shuangdian. "Is this it? It feels thin. Are we sure walking into another Elephant isn't just suicide?"

"Don't be impatient. We have others meeting us at the airport," Zhao Shuangdian said, closing her eyes.

"What are the odds of success?"

"Sixty percent."

"Only sixty?" The death of Qian Fu had already proven to Li Huowang what happened at forty percent.

"Never expect a hundred percent. If it were a hundred, it would surely be a trap."

Li Huowang’s heart sank; he could only hope the group at the airport would prove useful.

"Put on the rubber mask. Walking into the airport with your own face is no different than handing yourself over," the gloomy man said, tossing a rubberized head into Li Huowang’s lap.

Five hours later, they arrived at an airport in another city, the sky beginning to pale with the first light of dawn.

As Li Huowang stepped into the terminal wearing his new face, he was stunned by the figures awaiting him.

Qing Wanglai, dressed in a sharp suit, extended a hand to shake Zhao Shuangdian’s. "Hard journey, I trust?"

Behind him, slumped in the chairs, sat Zhao Lei, Chen Hongyu, and Wu Qi.

"Them? They are the help you spoke of?" Li Huowang stared at his former companions in disbelief.

"Who else? There aren't many left who truly understand our current predicament."

The two groups merged, leaving Li Huowang standing alone in his shock.

By dawn, the first rays of sunlight broke through, and the plane carrying Li Huowang and the others pierced the clouds.

Seated in his chair, Li Huowang had accepted the necessity of this alliance with Qing Wanglai.

Though Qing was a man who would burn a bridge the moment he crossed it, he was not to blame for the incident with Nana.

They were familiar faces; even if he were a villain, at least he was a known quantity—better than a stranger.

Qing Wanglai sat beside him and reached out. "I never imagined you’d end up on Zhao Shuangdian’s boat."

"I had no choice. The last person I followed was unreliable, so I had to switch."

Whether Qing missed the sarcasm or chose to ignore it, he smiled warmly. "Is that so? Good. I was worried you actually believed her theories."

Li Huowang glanced at Zhao Shuangdian, who was already wearing an eye mask to sleep, and asked, "I don't buy her Elephant theory. I think your Projection theory is more grounded."

"Oh? You really think so?"

Li Huowang gritted his teeth and glared at him. "Of course not! I don't care about your damn theories!"

"I just want to end this trouble! I want the past to stay in the past! I don't want to be treated like a lunatic anymore!"

Qing Wanglai pondered for a moment before speaking. "You may not believe me, but I must explain: I never gave up on you."

"If we survive this crisis, I will help you regain your freedom."

Li Huowang scoffed and turned his head away. "Fine words. I'm a wanted man across the entire country! Tell me, how do you plan to give me back my freedom?"

"Once you return, you surrender immediately."

Li Huowang looked at him as if he were an idiot.

"Don't be hasty. That's only the first step. You are a mental patient. No matter how many times you've escaped, the final sentence will be commitment to an asylum."

"After you've cooled off for a while, I will buy that asylum. Then, I'll have you transferred to my own facility. From there, doing whatever you want becomes much easier."

"Heh, Boss Qing is truly generous. Buying an entire asylum just for me—I'm touched."

Seeing that Li Huowang remained distrustful, Qing Wanglai said no more. He stood up, moved to the seat beside the sleeping Zhao Shuangdian, and whispered to her.

Having not slept all night, Li Huowang prepared to close his eyes and rest.

But just as he drifted off, his peripheral vision caught a small white speck beneath the seat in front of him.

He frowned, leaned down, and picked it up. As he held the object between two fingers, his pupils constricted. "A die?"

He glanced quickly at the others; seeing they were occupied, he whispered to the white die in his hand: "Why are you here? In a war between Sīmìng, do you really think you have the right to interfere?"