Clown Game-Chapter 73 - 64 Theres a Boss Zhou

Chapter 73: Chapter 64: There’s a Boss Zhou

Chapter 73 -64: There’s a Boss Zhou

Chen Xiao forced what he hoped was a polite expression, but paired with his grimace of pain and his roughly forgettable face, it was hard for anyone to muster even a bit of fondness for him.

Meanwhile, he slowly and clearly asked himself several inconsequential questions like “How old might you be?” but upon receiving no reaction, he tested the waters with a few curses. A second later, his words spiraled into a lengthy discourse filled with such filthy invective that killing you for hearing it wouldn’t seem excessive. Another second passed, and Chen Xiao was already picturing brutish men discussing philosophy with the old man in violent scenarios, before suddenly feeling the urge to pull out a gun and shoot the other party on impulse.

With Chen Xiao’s speed of thought, it took him a full three seconds of mental probing to start relaxing a bit.

Once he was sure the other person didn’t possess some body-modifying freak’s ability to read minds, Chen Xiao blurted out four words.

“We’re leaving!”

…

Yes, he didn’t exchange pleasantries with the man, nor did he try to pry him with various tactics. Some questions just weren’t that important at the moment. Chen Xiao just wanted to leave.

It might have been because any further dawdling might have left him relying on prosthetics like Old Zhao, or perhaps he just profoundly disliked the man’s exceedingly ordinary but disconcerting presence.

In any case, he wanted to leave, a thought that had emerged in Chen Xiao’s mind without him knowing when. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bai Xiong and Ding Manshan’s expressions, both men also frowning slightly, clearly of the same mind: “The item of interest is in our hands; let’s get out of here.”

Boss Zhou waved his hand impatiently backward, signaling, “Beat it, hurry up.”

And without further ado, Chen Xiao and his two companions entered the elevator.

…

The intensely heated battle came to an abrupt end. The containment items were handed over directly to Chen Xiao and his two companions, and without any hesitation, they turned and left.

From the moment that old man appeared, there was an elusive sense of unease—as if everything made sense and yet something was amiss, like the smell of rotten meat lingering in the air, undetectable the moment you tried to sniff it out.

…

At this time, in a small room on the top floor of “Jinding Mansion,” a fat man was hiding.

From the moment Wang San took his last breath, he had been hidden here. He was lucky because soon after, the remaining people began fighting one another, and nobody bothered searching the rooms one by one.

So, he survived.

A few minutes ago, he noticed that the gunfire had stopped.

“Seems like the fight’s over…” he thought.

After several internal struggles, he decided to go out and check, because he felt that the groups involved were probably mostly dead by now, and any survivors would hardly be uninjured.

So, if he went out and delivered a final blow, maybe he would emerge as the ultimate winner of the night…

With that slim hope, he stepped into the corridor.

But just as he turned a corner, he saw a few people standing in front of the elevator, belonging to the group with the small moustaches, and in front of them stood an old man he had never seen before.

Now, the four people opposite him saw him too.

But strangely enough, they didn’t shoot,

and he stood there, stupidly frozen in place, without any thought of ducking behind a wall.

…

The elevator doors slowly closed, and the fat man watched the old man disappear between the closing doors. The old man had glanced at him, a very ordinary look, as if seeing a passerby he’d never cross paths with again.

With a “ding,” the elevator began its descent. Now, at this top level, only the fat man remained.

He still stood there, bewildered, surrounded by rubble, blood, shell casings, and a large hole in the wall through which a night breeze blew. Puzzled, he lowered his head to glance at the gun he was holding.

An idea formed in his mind, and he knew it was foolish, absurd, but the thought had nonetheless taken root.

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The chubby man furrowed his brow, looking somewhat perplexed.

Then, he lifted the gun in his hand and aimed it at his own head.

“If I shoot, I will die… so why should I shoot?” he mused inexplicably, as though he were pondering what to have for dinner.

After that… he pulled the trigger.

…

…

In the downtown area of K City, under the cover of night, lights shone brightly. On the road, a car sped along, its piercing horn blaring continuously as it whooshed past the greenbelt at the side, the strong breeze making the wild grass dance like a frenzied mob.

In the back seat, Bai Xiong pressed down on the spot where Chen Xiao’s arm bone had pierced through, spraying the wound again with hemostatic spray. But the effect only lasted a few minutes before the blood vessels burst open again under the pressure of the blood flow.

“Drive faster!” Bai Xiong demanded. Although his tone remained steady, his eyes clearly betrayed his anxiety.

The hemostatic spray indeed had a very strong effect, but as the three men stepped into the elevator, maybe because of a change in body position, or perhaps the slight weightlessness as the elevator descended, somehow the bone fragments in Chen Xiao’s arm inexplicably pierced through an artery. In an instant, blood spurted out, and the immense pressure could not be resolved by simple “hemostasis.”

A fierce light flashed in Ding Manshan’s eyes as he brutally pushed down the car’s gearshift. He stomped on the accelerator, the car tilting dangerously as it sped along and narrowly carved a breathtaking arc, then straightened and continued to rush forward with a sense of desperation.

Chen Xiao lay sprawled in the seat, his complexion even paler than usual. He felt his strength draining away. He wanted to think, to laugh a little, to make a sarcastic remark, but he grew increasingly groggy and tired. The scent of blood around him gradually faded, the roar of the car weakened, the light became dim and then… there was nothing.

Falling or rising, he didn’t know. He couldn’t feel pain, temperature, or the passage of time. In the void, he seemed to smell a wisp of tobacco and a vague sound of wild laughter. Someone had said something to him about taking medicine for a cold, about how bottles are easily broken, about tightening the water tap.

They were all trivial household matters, but Chen Xiao knew they were of utmost importance. He had to remember.

Yes, he must remember!!!

But… remember what?

He asked himself blankly.

Did someone say something to me?

He couldn’t recall at all.

It was as though he watched grains of sand slip through his fingers without knowing what those grains stood for.

There was a forbidden zone his thoughts could not touch.

Gradually, he forgot everything.

In the void, he didn’t know how long had passed.

Suddenly, he felt something.

An electric current spread out from his chest.

Intense pain.

His whole body violently spasmed as if propelling him upwards; he felt breath—a cold rush of air flooding his lungs.

The noises beside his ear gradually became clear.

It was the sound of a machine going “beep… beep…”—slow but rhythmic.

Like a heartbeat.

…