Rainy Night (Part Two)

This section of Qingshan Road was already near Qinglong Pier, where street lamps began to line the road, illuminating the path in a soft, neon haze. The rain, which had been a constant companion, finally began to ease, turning into a light drizzle that shimmered under the streetlights.

As soon as the taxi came to a stop, Yang Chu opened his eyes and saw a sinister, venomous gaze fixed on him through the rearview mirror. With a soft click, the driver, Lin Guoyu, unfastened his seatbelt, swung the car door open, and quickly slipped out. He leaned back into the car, reaching up to the sun visor and pulling out a 30-centimeter boning knife. His movements were practiced, almost habitual.

"Get out," he ordered.

Lin Guoyu's face twisted with rage, veins bulging on his forehead, his knife pointed menacingly at Yang Chu in the back seat.

Sitting in the rear, Yang Chu watched as the mask of civility vanished from Lin Guoyu's face. He wasn't afraid. Since awakening in this strange body, he had noticed that he no longer experienced the usual emotional responses triggered by stress or danger.

Earlier, when he had killed a thug in the abandoned warehouse, his mood remained flat. He felt no nausea upon seeing the body, nor any fear while stopping a car on a deserted road. Now, it was the same.

"Help! Help!" came a desperate cry from the trunk, accompanied by frantic banging.

It was a young woman's voice.

"Shut up, you d*mn b*tch!" Lin Guoyu, who had been pointing his knife at Yang Chu, suddenly turned, agitated by the cries from the trunk. He stomped to the back of the taxi and kicked the trunk violently.

"Get out of the car!" he barked, opening the back door and brandishing the knife at Yang Chu, his voice almost a shriek.

Yang Chu didn't say a word. He slowly raised his hands to show he meant no harm and carefully got out of the car.

"Die!" Lin Guoyu's eyes were bloodshot, his face contorted with madness. As soon as Yang Chu was out, he lunged, slashing wildly with his knife.

Clearly, when Yang Chu had heard the cries from the trunk, Lin Guoyu had decided to kill him. Perhaps he wanted to avoid making a mess in his taxi, or maybe he wanted more control over the situation. Whatever his reasons, he waited until Yang Chu was outside to make his move.

Standing by the taxi, Yang Chu remained calm, as if observing from a distance. When the knife was almost upon him, he suddenly ducked, narrowly avoiding it. Then, he sprang forward with all his strength, slamming his shoulder into Lin Guoyu.

There was a dull thud, followed by the sharp clatter of the knife hitting the ground.

Yang Chu stood still, rolling his shoulder slightly. He could feel the slight tears in his shoulder blade, arms, thighs, and abdominal muscles. Without the constraints of subconscious instincts, every time he exerted force, it was an all-out effort, far beyond the strength of an average person.

Lin Guoyu flew back two or three meters, landing heavily on the ground. His chest was slightly caved in, with blood bubbling from his nose and mouth. He was clearly dead.

Even so, Lin Guoyu's eyes remained fixed on Yang Chu with a venomous stare, his dying breaths carrying a curse: "I told you I wouldn't take you. You had to get in my car. I'll cut you, cut you—"

"Has Hong Kong always been this friendly?" Yang Chu murmured with a strange expression, looking at the lifeless body of Lin Guoyu.

Since waking up in this body, he had already killed two people. This made him uncertain about his new identity or even this world he had found himself in.

Judging by Lin Guoyu's behavior, the man wasn't normal. Perhaps he had some kind of mental illness.

Yang Chu didn't intend to kill anyone, but in situations of self-defense, even if he controlled his body's motor functions, facing a knife-wielding assailant left him no choice but to respond with maximum force. Without the subconscious limits, every move was an overexertion, a burst of overloaded strength.

Bang, bang, bang—

The knocking from the trunk resumed, this time more desperate.

Yang Chu walked over and opened the trunk.

"Ah, help! Don't—" a terrified voice cried out as soon as the trunk was open.

Inside was a young girl, bound at the wrists and ankles. She looked like a student, wearing a blouse and short skirt. A piece of burlap hung from her mouth—something she had managed to dislodge. She was trembling, her face pale with fear.

When she saw Yang Chu, her frantic cries stopped, and her tear-filled eyes widened as she tried to make sense of his face.

Yang Chu quickly assessed the situation. Lin Guoyu had kidnapped this girl for some unknown reason and stashed her in the trunk. That explained why he was so reluctant to take a passenger earlier. Only when Yang Chu threatened to report him did he reluctantly agree.

After hearing her cries for help, Lin Guoyu decided to kill Yang Chu to cover his crime. But he hadn't expected Yang Chu to be capable of turning the tables on him.

"Maybe he wasn't a first-time offender," Yang Chu thought but didn't dwell on it. He glanced at the ropes binding the girl's hands and feet, walked over to the side of the car, picked up the fallen knife, and returned to the trunk.

Seeing the knife, the girl flinched, her fear evident.

Yang Chu grabbed the ropes binding her, ignoring her weak struggles. With a swift motion, he cut through the ropes.

Freed, the girl crawled out of the trunk, stumbling as she tried to stand. She had been tied up for so long that her hands and feet were numb, causing her to fall.

Yang Chu watched but made no move to help. He had no intention of engaging further, tossing the knife aside and heading towards the road leading to Qinglong Pier.

The girl hesitated, glancing nervously around the deserted road. Seeing Lin Guoyu's body on the ground filled her with renewed terror. She screamed and ran to catch up with Yang Chu.

—

Thud—

Yang Chu, limping slowly along Qingshan Road, suddenly collapsed.

The girl, about ten meters behind, stopped, startled, watching Yang Chu lying on the ground. She seemed torn between fear and concern.

She had followed him for about five or six hundred meters, and his shaky steps had already revealed his exhaustion.

After some hesitation, she cautiously approached, standing about a meter away. Half in fear and half in worry, she called out, "Hey, are you okay?"

Yang Chu lay there, eyes half-closed, completely still.

The girl looked around, her eyes darting to the distant lights and faint sounds of foghorns. This unfamiliar street, shrouded in misty rain, felt ominous.

Hugging herself, she inched closer to Yang Chu, leaning down slightly, her voice trembling with a hint of tears, "Hey, don't scare me. Are you alright?"

After lying motionless for a good half-minute, Yang Chu suddenly opened his eyes.

"Ah—!"

The girl jumped back, startled.

"Help... me up," Yang Chu said with difficulty, his eyes fixed on her, his voice strained.

His body was failing. The injuries, the exhaustion, the hunger, and the strain of pushing his body to its limits were taking their toll. He had to constantly manage the internal systems just to keep himself functioning.

Trying to fully override the subconscious instincts ingrained through millions of years of evolution was a nearly impossible task. Even just maintaining the body's systems was an immense challenge.

The girl, still fearful, hesitated, but then moved closer to Yang Chu and helped him stand.

"You might want to turn around," Yang Chu said softly, his hand resting on her shoulder.

"What are you—" she began, but her cheeks flushed, and she quickly turned away.

Yang Chu unzipped his pants, the sound of urine hitting the ground following.

Hearing it, the girl's face turned red. She would have fled if she weren't holding him up.

"Thanks," Yang Chu said after he finished, letting out a long breath. "I'll need you to help me walk a bit further."

"You saved me. I should be the one thanking you," she replied, still holding him up. The earlier awkwardness seemed to have dissipated a bit, and her voice softened. "My name is Liang Xiuxin. What's yours?"

But as soon as she asked, she seemed to realize it might be a sensitive question and hastily added, "You don't have to tell me. I won't say anything to anyone."

She had tried to guess his identity while following him. Even though he was clearly injured and weak, he had managed to kill the man who kidnapped her. Then he just left without a word, without calling the police or anything. Like those mysterious, powerful figures in the movies.

"You can call me Yang Chu," he finally answered after a long pause.

He didn't know this body's original name, and he vaguely remembered hearing someone in the warehouse refer to him as "Fish Guy," but that name died with the previous owner. He'd use his own name.

"Okay," she murmured softly. She had many questions and wanted to keep talking, but seeing Yang Chu's tight-lipped silence, she held back.

Tonight had been a nightmare for seventeen-year-old Liang Xiuxin.Last night at around 10 p.m., after attending her high school graduation banquet, she took a taxi to go home. After about ten minutes of driving, the driver suddenly pulled out a knife, threatening her, binding her hands and feet, and stuffing her into the trunk.

From that moment on, she was gripped with fear, unable to predict what might happen to her. Then she heard someone flagging down the taxi and getting in, so she mustered all her strength to spit out the cloth in her mouth and scream for help. In the end, she was indeed rescued.

But just thinking about that psycho driver made her shudder again.

"Can you buy me some things?" Yang Chu's voice pulled her back from her thoughts.

She quickly turned her head and saw that there were already quite a few buildings along both sides of the road. About fifty or sixty meters away, there was a 24-hour convenience store still open on the ground floor of an old building.

"What do you need?" she asked nervously, noticing how pale Yang Chu looked—his lips had turned blue.

"Water, food, something with sugar if possible," he replied, letting go of her shoulder and tossing his wallet to her before slowly sitting down by the roadside.

Liang Xiuxin took the wallet and stared blankly at him for a moment. Seeing that he had closed his eyes, she suddenly made up her mind and ran toward the convenience store.

In less than five minutes, she was back with a big plastic bag and handed it to Yang Chu. He didn't check how much she had spent; he just stuffed the wallet back into his pocket. Opening the bag, he found that she had bought quite a few things—several bottles of mineral water, bread, a bag of sugar, some bandages, adhesive bandages, and a bottle of Wong To Yick herbal oil.

Without a word, Yang Chu tore open the bag of sugar, poured some into his mouth, drank a few sips of water, and then closed his eyes again.

Liang Xiuxin stood awkwardly by his side, not knowing what to think.

About five or six minutes later, Yang Chu reopened his eyes and slowly stood up from the ground.

"We're even now," he said, taking a deep breath and waving a hand at Liang Xiuxin. "Aren't you going to call your family to let them know you're safe?"

"Ah?!" she exclaimed, suddenly realizing she hadn't thought of that. She quickly turned and rushed back to the convenience store.

Yang Chu watched her small figure jog away and saw the store clerk standing outside, looking curious after she had bought things earlier.

He didn't pay them any more attention. Instead, he looked up at the sky.

At some point, the rain that had lasted all night had stopped. The eastern horizon was beginning to lighten, and a few seagulls occasionally flew overhead.

Yang Chu picked up the plastic bag, turned around, and disappeared into the thickening morning mist.