The frantic thunder of hooves rang out in his ears.
Xiao Kesong followed the sound, just in time to see two figures galloping away. There was Chen Zemain spurring his horse to a mad dash in front, and Lu Zhuonian, two lengths behind, urging his own steed to chase.
Xiao Kesong paused, confused, then turned to Xue Duo, who had been closer to the pair. “What’s going on? Did those two have a fight? Why are they suddenly running and chasing?”
“They must have been arguing,” Xue Duo replied. Though he was close, he’d only heard Lu Zhuonian call out Chen Zemain’s name urgently and hadn’t overheard their prior conversation. At the mention of a fight, an inexplicable thought crossed Xue Duo’s mind. He glanced at Ye Chen and said, with a knowing look, “It’s not like they’re filming Princess Pearl, is it?”
Ye Chen remained silent.
Yan Luo, on the other side, frowned. “That loud noise just now… it sounded a little like a gunshot.”
Though everyone present had handled guns before, they lived mostly in China. They were far less sensitive to the sound of a shot than Yan Luo, who had worked at shooting ranges for years.
Hearing Yan Luo, they suddenly realized something was amiss. Xue Duo and Xiao Kesong were still processing it, but Ye Chen’s face drastically changed. “Something’s wrong. There might be trouble.”
At the same moment, several more shots echoed in the distance.
Yan Luo’s heart jumped. Without another word, he immediately steered his horse and galloped after Chen and Lu.
Ye Chen demanded, “Did Zhuonian bring a gun?”
Xiao Kesong shook his head. “No, why would anyone bring a gun for a ride?”
“I did.” Ye Chen urged his horse forward, leaving a cloud of dust behind. “You all be careful. I’m going after him.”
With Chen Zemain, Lu Zhuonian, and now Ye Chen gone, Xiao Kesong instinctively kicked his horse’s flank and followed without a second thought.
Xue Duo paused for two seconds, muttered, “I must be crazy,” then cracked his whip and followed the others, heading toward the main house.
Liu Yuebo was leading his horse along the grass when he suddenly saw everyone galloping ahead. Not knowing what had happened, he reflexively flipped onto his horse and joined the chase.
Suddenly, a storm of dust rose, accompanied by a furious drum of hooves.
The heirs of several wealthy families sped ahead. Their fine steeds flew like arrows released from a bow, one after another, rocketing toward the main house, fast as a streaking comet or a lightning flash. This time, it really did feel like a scene straight out of a movie.
The thunder of hooves roared, merging with the gunfire in the distance. Watching the spirited, unrestrained figures disappear, Xue Duo felt they weren’t heading to a fight, but preparing for a debut.
Streaking like lightning, swift as the wind, Chen Zemain and Lu Zhuonian rode abreast, arriving at the main house almost simultaneously.
— * — * — * — * — *— * — * — * — * — *— * — * — * — * — *
Inside the house, Chen Qingyu stood at the door of the study, handgun in one hand, shielding Rolf Wilson within the room.
A report came through his earpiece: “Chen, thermal imaging shows at least eight armed personnel inside the building, engaging our forces.“
Just then, the lights flickered and then died completely.
His teammate cursed. “Damn it, the electrical system’s been destroyed. We can’t track their movements.“
“The emergency power will be on in two minutes,” Chen Qingyu said, intimately familiar with the security systems of every one of Wilson’s properties. “We only need to hold out for two minutes.”
Before the words fully left his mouth, several almost imperceptible footsteps echoed from the dark. Then came a faint click.
Without turning, Chen Qingyu leaned slightly and reached back to grip Wilson’s neck. “Get down!”
In the very same second, a bullet whizzed past Wilson’s hair, embedding itself in the expensive, dark red wall fabric. Chen Qingyu’s ever-present protection had moved faster than the bullet.
Wilson smelled the gunpowder left by the projectile. The feeling was both thrilling and intensely nerve-wracking.
Chen Qingyu fired three shots down the corridor, suppressing the enemy’s fire. Two muffled thuds followed in the distance. Target neutralized ×2. With only eight attackers in total, not many were left.
Chen Qingyu single-handedly hauled Wilson out of his wheelchair. “Let’s go.”
Wilson knew Chen Qingyu well and guessed his protector was trying to break out. The sensation of walking the line between life and death while possessing such powerful defense was intoxicating. Wilson’s adrenaline surged, as if he were caught in a tense, exciting game of Russian roulette where no one knew when the next bullet would be chambered. But as long as he had Chen Qingyu, luck would always be on his side.
Excitement flashed in Wilson’s eyes. “Are we breaking out?”
Chen Qingyu gave a concise reply. “The study has windows, it’s hard to defend.” While the windows were bulletproof, there was no telling if the attackers carried heavy weapons like armor-piercing incendiary rounds. If the windows were breached, they would be exposed to fire from two directions.
Chen Qingyu and another bodyguard led the way, with two other bodyguards shielding Wilson in the middle. The group broke out from the study and headed toward the underground safe room.
The sound of automatic weapon fire echoed down the hall, bullets creating a grating shriek as they hit the wall. They were meeting heavy resistance on the way to the safe room.
This was no ordinary robbery. The enemies were fully armed, well-trained, and coordinated a systematic search of the main house. They had clearly received professional military training and possessed an intimate knowledge of the manor’s security system.
There was a mole.
A cold glint flashed in Chen Qingyu’s eyes. He bent slightly, turned his head toward Wilson, and said in Chinese, “Sir, there’s a mole.”
Wilson’s first love was Chinese, and he had been able to manage simple communication in the language during his school days. Since becoming close with Chen Qingyu, his Chinese had improved by leaps and bounds. His bodyguards, however, were none the wiser as to what the two were saying.
At the word ‘mole,’ Wilson’s face paled. He unconsciously gripped his pistol, his thumb rubbing the trigger. This was why he couldn’t leave Chen Qingyu; everyone else around him could be bought, but Chen Qingyu never would be.
Wilson asked in Chinese, “Are these men around us compromised?”
“Hard to say.” Chen Qingyu stretched out a hand to Wilson. “Come over here first.”
In the instant Wilson stepped toward Chen Qingyu, the bodyguard to his right suddenly moved.
Bang! a gunshot rang out.
The bodyguard fired his gun with one hand while violently wrapping his other arm around Wilson’s neck, trying to take him hostage.
Chen Qingyu yanked Wilson toward himself and simultaneously fired his own weapon!
A few shots later, a graze mark appeared on Chen Qingyu’s cheekbone, slowly bleeding. The two bodyguards to Wilson’s left and right had both been struck down.
“Your side is leaking like a sieve, Sir,” Chen Qingyu wiped the blood from his face with a bent finger, then quickly assessed Wilson. “Can you walk?”
Wilson staggered slightly. “I can.”
Chen Qingyu looked around, shot a desk leg, and snapped the solid wood piece off, handing it to Wilson. “If you’d learned to use a cane sooner, this wouldn’t be so complicated.”
Wilson, who was forced to take the desk leg as a makeshift cane, had nothing to say.
There were still several bodyguards upstairs and downstairs, but Chen Qingyu no longer felt safe entrusting Wilson to anyone else. It was one thing to clear a path and quite another to personally protect a limping magnate during a breakout.
— * — * — * — * — *— * — * — * — * — *— * — * — * — * — *
Just as Chen Qingyu was lowering his gaze to contemplate their next move, the tightly closed main doors of the villa downstairs burst open.
In an instant, all eyes snapped to the entrance.
Chen Zemain stared, momentarily stunned, at the scene inside—a terrifying sight that resembled a terrorist attack. The invaders were fully armed, wearing helmets, masks, and goggles, looking every bit like special forces from a video game. This was truly a real-life, stimulating battlefield.
In contrast, the unarmed Chen Zemain was utterly out of place. His sudden appearance and seemingly harmless state meant the intruders paid him no mind. Their leader simply gestured for them to proceed and nonchalantly raised his assault rifle. One man like this, they seemed to think, wouldn’t require much effort; they’d just dispose of him quickly.
Chen Zemain’s eyes instantly locked onto the leader. Catch the king first.
He shoved the man behind him, Lu Zhuonian, behind a Roman column. “Cover me!”
Lu Zhuonian leaned against the column, swiftly drew his pistol, released the safety, and fired several shots into the house to lay down suppressing fire. The leader was forced to temporarily lower his gun and seek cover.
Chen Zemain seized the chance to charge inside. Using the momentum of his rush, he launched himself into the air and threw himself at the leader.
Not everyone had experience taking a person down like this. Even lean, Chen Zemain weighed over a hundred pounds, and his bone structure was dense. The force of him slamming into the man was not to be underestimated.
The leader looked up just as Chen Zemain descended from above. Before he could fire, the impact sent him stumbling back, barely managing to keep his feet. Only a highly trained mercenary would have such core strength; anyone else would have been instantly knocked down.
With Chen Zemain clinging to the captain, swinging back and forth, it became extremely difficult to aim, so the others didn’t dare shoot. Chen Zemain, flexible and light, sprang and leaped on the leader’s body, circling his right leg around the man’s neck and constantly shifting his weight upward. Using gravity, he managed to forcefully swing the man to the ground!
He hooked his foot upward, tucking it into the inner side of his own left knee, forming a solid triangle choke around the leader’s neck.
Upstairs, Wilson’s eyes widened. He immediately cheered, “Worthy of your son!”
Chen Qingyu remained silent, quietly raising his gun.
Chen Zemain and the leader were tightly tangled together, rolling back and forth on the floor like two beasts tearing at each other. The enemy didn’t dare to shoot for fear of hitting their leader, and Chen Qingyu likewise couldn’t risk firing.
The leader tightly gripped Chen Zemain’s legs, struggling violently. He was professionally trained, powerful, and incredibly fit—a far cry from the small-fry opponents Chen Zemain usually fought—and for a moment, Chen Zemain almost failed to maintain his hold. In the short seconds they struggled, the leader elbowed Chen Zemain hard in the chest, making him nearly cough up blood.
Even so, he did not release his grip. In a life-or-death situation like this, the first one to let go would die.
Chen Qingyu’s eyes were sharp as a burning flame upstairs. He subconsciously held his breath.
The leader, having never expected such a seemingly harmless person to be so troublesome, cursed in English and reached for the dagger at his waist.
Lu Zhuonian’s pupils contracted violently. “Chen Zemain, he has a knife!”
Chen Zemain’s gaze hardened. He suddenly exerted all his strength, his legs tightening around the leader’s neck as he quickly pressed down on the man’s wrist.
The leader’s muscles tensed all over as he struggled desperately.
Just then, a bullet shot toward the pair without warning. Chen Zemain executed a clean roll, arching his back to avoid the shot.
The leader seized the opportunity to break free, pressing Chen Zemain to the ground, and finally drew his dagger.
Chen Zemain kicked the man’s chest. Facing the glinting blade, he neither blocked nor dodged. Instead, he lifted his hand to rip off the leader’s helmet, forcing the man to expose his neck.
“Hit his neck!” Chen Zemain yelled in Chinese.
Chen Qingyu and Lu Zhuonian fired simultaneously, taking aim at the leader’s neck.
— * — * — * — * — *— * — * — * — * — *— * — * — * — * — *
The author has something to say:
Cats fight by rolling around on the ground, kicking and tumbling. ⸜(„• ֊ •„)⸝⸜(„• ֊ •„)⸝⸜(„• ֊ •„)⸝
TL has something to say:
Our journey is nearing its end, fellow Couch Potatoes. (,,>﹏<,,) Thank you for all of those who had been with me through this wonderful experience.
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Author: LazyHermitGal
A Lazy Hermit Gal wondering in the void and falling into the translation abyss.
