Forced to kill

Police lights flashed on the national highway.

Jesse sat in the passenger seat, pulled a heavy black bulletproof vest over his tactical uniform, and deftly checked his sidearm. With a crisp click, the magazine was removed, his thumb quickly ran through the gleaming yellow bullets, and after confirming it was fully loaded, he slammed the pistol back onto the handle. He took a deep breath, his gaze piercing through the windshield, fixed intently on the dark passageway ahead.

This time, he absolutely cannot let Matsubara Yuma slip through his fingers again.

A piercing metallic scraping sound was accompanied by a violent impact.

Jesse's body was violently thrown forward by the enormous inertia, and the seatbelt instantly dug into his shoulder. Jesse reacted extremely quickly and grabbed the roof handrail, thus preventing himself from being thrown out of the car.

The police officer driving the car screamed and jerked the steering wheel. The out-of-control police car spun violently on the road, its tires screeching.

"Damn it!" Jesse couldn't help but get angry, looking out the window, "What's that?"

A black Ford sedan roared out from a side intersection and slammed into the front of the lead police car at an almost suicidal angle. At the moment of impact, the Ford's rear end swung wildly at an extremely tricky angle, and the window rolled down a crack.

Bang! A bullet flew out with a sharp sound, almost grazing Jesse's cheek, shattering the left-side rearview mirror of the police car he was in.

"There are guns on the other side! Take cover!" Jesse shouted.

After completing this series of provocative actions, the Ford did not stop for a moment. With its engine roaring and tires kicking up clouds of dust, it nimbly turned around and sped off down another side road.

The young police officer driving the car was deathly pale, his hands trembling as he gripped the steering wheel. He was breathing heavily and turned to Jesse, the highest-ranking officer in the car: "Should we...should we give chase?"

Although that glance was brief, Jesse saw it clearly. The face in the driver's seat, those eyes that remained calm and sharp even at the moment of impact—it was unmistakably Blaze!

At this moment, he jumped out, blatantly ramming a police car and firing a provocative shot… What was he trying to do? A surge of anger welled up in Jesse's heart, instantly burning away a part of his reason. The masked man in the abandoned delivery station who fired the gun when he held Milo hostage, Milo's pale, tired face at the police station while giving his statement, face filled with some complex emotions that Jesse couldn't decipher… These images intertwined, making Jesse's temples throb.

"Switch seats!" Jesse growled, unbuckled his seatbelt, and swiftly switched places with the officer in the driver's seat. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes fixed on the two crimson lights of the Ford's taillights ahead. He knew all too well Bleds's insane driving style; ordinary officers simply couldn't handle it, only resulting in wasted manpower or even injuries.

The engine roared as the police car gave chase.

Drawing on his experience in the previous pursuit at Wudong Port and his intimate knowledge of the city's roads, Jesse relentlessly pursued his target, weaving through traffic and using sirens and keen anticipation to repeatedly block Blaise's possible escape routes.

After a series of thrilling turns, Jesse finally managed to force the black Ford into a narrow dead end.

The Ford slammed on its brakes, its front end almost touching the brick wall at the end of the alley. The police car also braked sharply and came to a stop across the alley entrance, blocking the only exit.

Jesse pushed open the car door, drew his gun, and was about to order the encirclement when a chilling coldness suddenly shot up his spine without warning.

wrong!

Blaise's shot just now precisely shattered his rearview mirror, but it was only the rearview mirror.

Given Blaise's terrifying accuracy in sniping Meng Sha with one shot in Tengbang and three shots at the abandoned courier station, why wasn't that shot aimed at his head or the tire at that distance and in a relatively stationary situation? Why did it only shatter the rearview mirror?

Thinking back further, at the abandoned courier station incident, those three shots, though seemingly dangerous, cleverly avoided vital points, and were more like precise warnings and shooing.

A gunman who walks through a hail of bullets, a guy who can calmly set up and provoke the Lanman police under their very noses—is he really afraid of legal punishment?

Was it just good luck and skill that I survived these two incidents, or was I caught in a carefully designed trap from the very beginning?

Blaise was like a blood-smelling bait, and this self-righteous "shark" took the bait without hesitation.

Matsubara Yuma! Everything was to cover for Matsubara Yuma! Blaze was just cooperating with someone else, and Jesse already knew who that person was.

Jesse's heart felt as if it had been gripped tightly by an icy hand, sinking to the bottom in an instant. He stepped forward alone, gun in hand, and kicked open the driver's seat. Sure enough, there was no one inside.

Overwhelmed by immense regret and anxiety, Jesse abruptly reached out to stop his colleague, who was about to get out of the car and surround him. His voice was hoarse and distorted with extreme urgency: "Get in! Quickly! Turn around! Go to Pier 3! Immediately! Right now!"

*

The salty sea breeze, carrying the smell of rust, swept across the dock. Chatchai stubbed out his cigarette butt, and pointed his revolver at Yuzhen's temple.

Not far away, Nonai sat on a container, idly taking a break, occasionally teasing the pale-faced Yuzhen, her relaxed expression not at all like someone who came to kill.

"Hey, do you think Milo will come back to save you? He doesn't have much time left." Nona said thoughtfully, lost in thought. "Huh? It looks like it's going to rain again."

Yuma closed her eyes and let the sea breeze blow wildly.

A long whistle sounded in the distance, startling a flock of white gulls perched on top of the containers.

Yuzhen's pupils contracted sharply, and a glimmer of hope ignited uncontrollably in his eyes. But then, the blinding red and blue flashing of police lights and the distant sound shattered all his hopes.

A ringtone sounded, and Chatchai answered it. A few seconds later, he handed the phone to Yuzhen's ear.

On the other end of the phone, Miles' voice was icy: "Compared to that cop, what use are you now? Are you disappointed that he didn't choose you?"

Footsteps suddenly echoed on the damp dock, approaching from afar.

Upon seeing the newcomer, Nonai's face flashed with surprise, and he jumped off the container warily: "What's going on?"

Transport vehicles from three companies under the Dale Group drove from three directions at the intersection, forming a mobile array that blocked the way for vehicles in front and behind. The intersection was instantly blocked, and police cars were kept outside and unable to approach Port No. 3.

Nonai couldn't hide her shock: "Just who is this Milo?" As she spoke, she looked at Yuuma on the ground, "He actually managed to use traffic control in a place like Wudong Port to save you?"

Almost the instant Nonai spoke, a sniper shot was fired, and Chachai reacted swiftly and quickly. Looking again, a middle-aged man of similar age, with a sallow complexion and unsteady gait, emerged from the crowd.

Chachai was stunned, but Old Ruan didn't waste any words and fired another shot.

After two rounds, Chachai had no time to restrain Yuzhen, so he could only kick him to Nonai: "Kill him, and be quick."

Nona glanced at the chaotic dock, but another idea came to her mind. Taking advantage of the two old men fighting, she pressed Yuujin's head down, slamming him against the concrete ground.

“Actually, you’re definitely not going to make it today. You saw something you shouldn’t have seen, and we’ll definitely take your life to protect Blaise, unless you stay in Wudong Port under police protection for the rest of your life. But in Wudong Port, Miles also wants you dead, otherwise we wouldn’t have bothered to come all this way. I’m a little curious now, what exactly do you know that makes both sides want to kill you? If this drags on, the police will definitely be able to find out who caused the traffic jam, and then Milo will also be dragged into jail because of you.”

Yuzhen's eyes trembled, and large tears immediately rolled down her cheeks.

Nonai coaxed, "Tell me, what exactly is Milo's identity? If you tell me, I'll hand you over to him. Maybe you can save your life, and more importantly, you can protect him. You like him, you want to protect him, right?"

The cacophony of sirens, the roar of engines, the sporadic gunfire in the distance, the gasps of the crowd… all the sounds turned into a suffocating buzz in Yuzhen's ears. He felt as if he had already died, died on that stormy night in Gan Valley. He shouldn't have come back. He thought he could tell Milo the secret of Miles killing Steven, but after experiencing all this, he realized that the struggle between Milo and Miles had far exceeded his imagination.

Milo was not the ordinary and pitiful canary he knew; he was a burning fire, enough to melt the cage.

His turning back has led to the current predicament.

Just as this woman said, no matter who it falls into the hands of—the police, Miles, or Milo—it means endless revenge and entanglement.

He can't help Milo at all.

He will only become a burden and a weakness for Milo.

There is only one way.

A way to end it completely...

Yuma suddenly broke free of the restraints and lunged forward, his forehead slamming heavily into the protruding rivet of the mooring bollard.

"Bang!" After a dull thud, warm blood gushed out instantly, spreading rapidly along the winding grooves in the concrete floor.

Nonai was shocked and reached out to grab him, but only grasped at empty air. Looking at Yuzhen, whose forehead had been smashed open, she sighed in annoyance and shouted to the two old men in the distance, "Stop fighting! He's dead."

Chachai and Nguyen also stopped fighting. Nguyen frowned and turned to flee with lightning speed.

Chachai wanted to chase after them, but Nonai stopped him: "Chase them? You're getting senile, just go!"

The patrol car stopped on the side of the road, and the sounds of phone calls and shouts filled the air.

Chachai quickly scanned the entire scene and could only follow Nonai as they moved through the container area of ​​the dock, soon disappearing from sight.

The patrol motorcycles, sirens blaring, finally managed to squeeze through the congested traffic. The officers jumped off and, upon seeing the pool of blood, gasps and shouts erupted in shock.

Yuzhen lay in a pool of thick, warm blood with a strong, sweet, metallic smell, his consciousness fading rapidly like the receding tide. He struggled to lift his heavy eyelids, his vision being covered and compressed by layer upon layer of thick, shimmering blood.

Unfamiliar, distorted, and terrified faces flashed across his increasingly blurred vision, like rapidly flipping through cheap movie footage.

Only one face emerged with perfect clarity amidst the blood-red chaos.

Milo.

Milo!

Milo...

Yuma's fingers, soaked in blood, twitched extremely weakly and spasmodically, and slowly and laboriously extended a tiny bit towards Milo's direction.

Outside the crowded throng, Milo stood at a distance, his legs feeling as heavy as lead, his limbs tingling with a needle-like numbness that quickly spread to his heart, bringing a sharp, almost suffocating pain.

The crowd surged forward like a tide, some rushing forward in fear to see what was happening, others being pushed back by the police cordon, but he remained frozen in place, motionless. It wasn't until a police officer roughly shoved him and yelled at him to back up that he, like a puppet with its strings cut, stiffly and unsteadily took two steps back.

Police cars finally broke through the encirclement and came to a stop at the edge of the dock with a screeching sound of brakes.

Jesse practically slammed the car door shut and jumped out. He ran wildly, his throat churning with the taste of blood, his brow drenched in sweat. But as he approached the scene, his steps slowed uncontrollably. He lifted the police tape and saw Yuzuru, who was lying lifeless with his eyes open. It felt as if his heart had been pierced through, and a sense of powerlessness washed over him.

The crowd surged forward, shouting in alarm, "Someone's dead! Someone's dead!"

Milo stiffened and mechanically turned to leave.

Suddenly, he felt a warm, sticky wetness on his lips. Milo raised his hand blankly, his fingertips touching a patch of glaring bright red.

It's a nosebleed.

Suddenly, a sharp, tingling sensation shot through my heart, my vision blurred, and a wave of intense dizziness washed over me. The pain I hadn't felt for many years returned.

Milo clenched his teeth, his mouth instantly filled with a strong, metallic taste. The sweet, metallic taste on his tongue brought a brief moment of clarity to his muddled consciousness. Without making a sound, he fiercely wiped the blood from his lips and nose with the back of his fingers, and with all his might, steadied his swaying body, straightening his back ramrod straight.

When he looked up again, Milo's gaze pierced through the chaotic crowd and flashing police lights, and suddenly crashed into a thick shadow.

It's Blaze.

He stood there silently, like a frozen shadow, watching him quietly through the noise and death, through blood and rain.

Dark clouds cleaved the sky and earth in two, and the red and blue halos of police lights flowed and danced on the wet streets like eerie neon lights. Behind Blaise, however, was a thick, boundless darkness, as if connecting to another world.

Milo took a half step forward, crossing the invisible dividing line formed by light, shadow, and despair, and walked step by step to Blaise's side.

The rain began to intensify, pelting his hair and shoulders with a chilling thud, meandering down his back.

Milo heard himself speak, his voice dry like sandpaper rubbing against rotten wood, cold and devoid of any warmth: "I'm going to kill Miles."

The first rain of December finally fell in Wudong Port.