game
Late at night, the temporary checkpoint at the foot of Mount Chila opened.
An SUV sped past, and at the checkpoint, two groups of guards in different uniforms watched the black car drive towards the town of Maca.
The roar of engines gradually subsided, replaced by the incessant chirping of cicadas. The town of Maca was brightly lit in the darkness, with members of the Snakespin Base and government troops clearly separated, each occupying a corner of the street, and a tense atmosphere permeating the air.
Blaze scanned his surroundings quickly, one hand on the steering wheel, the other hand swiftly pulling a brand-new, gleaming custom pistol from the slot and neatly tucking it into his waistband.
The unlicensed car drove into the heart of the town and came to a smooth stop.
With a "bang," Blaze got out of the car and slammed the door shut.
Several guards standing at the door looked at the tall man warily, exchanged glances, and were about to step forward to check him.
Blaise frowned unhappily.
"Hey! Get out of the way! Watch your eyes!" Hersey, who came up from behind, bumped into the two men's shoulders. "Blaze, you're back. They're from the Tenbon government." As he spoke, Hersey subconsciously looked back.
Hessai was somewhat surprised not to see the handsome young man. Blaise had broken the rules time and again for that man, and he had assumed Blaise was determined to bring him back from Lanman. It seemed that not only had he failed, but he had also been rebuffed.
Seeing Blaise's unpleasant expression, Hersey wisely put away his playful demeanor: "The old gentleman asked me to wait for you. Get ready, there's a dinner party in half an hour, and Pomlasson will be there too."
Blaise nodded and began to sign.
Hersey replied quickly: "Apa has been sent to receive an antidote. The doctor said that the substance did not damage his brain and he can still be saved."
Blaise took two steps, then turned back, drew the gun from his waist, and threw it at Hersey.
Hersey's eyes lit up: "Blaze! You remembered I wanted this model! Thank you! I love you! I love this birthday present!"
Blaise stared silently at Hessé, when suddenly something came to mind out of nowhere.
These child soldiers, like Hesei, even share the same birthday. Tomorrow, Hesei will officially turn twenty.
Hessé is the next him, and Apa might be the next Hessé.
Blaise's eyelids twitched slightly. His gaze passed over Hessé and suddenly spotted Mount Chira and Aplin hidden in the night.
Infinite heights, boundless distances.
It's like there's no way to get over it.
Blaise turned away in silence.
The door to the private room was pushed open, and the laughter and conversation inside came to an abrupt halt as everyone's gaze focused on the man who had entered.
Blaze changed his clothes; his black vest couldn't hide the tattoos covering his back. His extremely short buzz cut and tattoos, combined with his usually indifferent face, made him look extremely arrogant.
Pengla Song, who was sitting in the main seat, stood up first and smiled: "I was just talking to your uncle about you. You made great contributions in the suppression of Mengtuo. General Zowen specifically asked me to praise you." As he spoke, he looked at Xigong on his left, "If you had let him go with General Zowen when he was a child, he might be the youngest major general now."
Xigong laughed, "No one can force him to do what he doesn't want to do. What can this old man like me do?"
Blaise's gaze remained fixed on the person to Pomrasong's right, his eyes deep and thoughtful.
Pomlason smiled and glanced at them, saying, "Let me introduce you. This is Miles from Lanman, and he's also a supplier we'll be working with soon. I know there's a bit of a saga between your two companies, but you're still family, after all. I don't think that should be an obstacle to our cooperation, right?"
Sigon replied, "Of course." Then he looked at Blaise.
A brief silence fell over the dinner table. Miles stood up, smiled, and extended his hand to Blaise: "We're family, there's no such thing as a grudge that lasts overnight."
Blaise reached out and firmly grasped Miles's hand, their hands gripping each other so tightly that the veins bulged, before quickly releasing their grip and sitting down.
Sigon and Pomlason exchanged knowing glances, their conversation revolving around border trade, the prospects of new drugs, and shared prosperity.
After a few rounds of drinks, Miles raised his glass to apologize, seemingly a little drunk. He got up, left the room, pushed open the heavy door of the private room, and headed towards the restroom at the end of the corridor.
Blaise put down his glass almost simultaneously and walked out one after the other.
Sigon frowned slightly, but did not stop him. A barely perceptible glint flashed in Pomlason's eyes on the table, but he quickly masked it with a smile and continued talking to Sigon.
The corridor was dimly lit, and the indicator light on the bathroom door at the end of the corridor glowed with a faint fluorescent green light.
Blaise quietly turned into a narrow back alley, where the noise from the private room was cut off, with only the faint sounds of traffic from the distant street and the low hum of the ventilation ducts.
The footsteps grew louder as Miles was about to step out of the alley when a dark figure suddenly pounced out with a sharp gust of wind.
Miles didn't even have time to react before he was slammed against the cold, rough wall with tremendous force, his back throbbing painfully. Then, the cold metal instantly pierced through his expensive custom-made suit and precisely embedded itself in his left upper arm.
The excruciating pain caused Miles to groan, and he saw clearly the murderous eyes in the darkness.
Blaze remained silent, swiftly drawing his blood-stained dagger and thrusting it down again with a whooshing sound, the tip of the blade rapidly magnifying in Miles's pupils.
"Swoosh—!" The sound of a sharp weapon slicing through flesh was clear and piercing. A gruesome wound, marked by a knife, stretched diagonally from Miles' cheekbone to his jaw, and blood gushed out instantly.
Blaze gripped Miles' neck tightly, pinning him against the wall. The dagger was raised again, its cold light aimed directly at his throat. A strong killing intent emanated from him, and he didn't utter a single word.
"You hate me that much, with a knife but not a gun? So much that you won't even give me a quick, decisive kill?" The excruciating pain made the veins on Miles's forehead throb, blood dripping down his cheeks. Death was imminent, yet his voice remained completely calm. "Is it because of those photos? You're really fragile; a little truth is enough to break you. Or is it because he's had his fill of you, dumped you, and that's why you can't take it anymore?"
Blaze's arm muscles bulged, the tip of the dagger pierced the skin of his neck, and a series of beads of blood immediately seeped out. He was about to cut down on it without any regard for the consequences.
Miles raised his chin and said coldly, "Kill me, and Gan Valley will be completely finished."
The tip of the knife hovered over Miles's carotid artery, trembling slightly.
"Because you foolishly transferred the patent rights, Zowin has decided to eliminate Milo, but he is smarter than you. He has joined the Lanman Police Department and become their protector. Now the Lanman police are preparing to launch a full-scale crackdown on Gan Gu's industries. The only one who can help Gan Gu's industries, stabilize the situation, and temporarily appease those big shots so that their subordinates can have a chance to make a living is me."
“If I die, the cooperation will collapse immediately. Do you think Sigon, Pomrasong, and Zowin would stand up to Lanman’s industrial attack for a dead merchant? They will cut ties immediately, withdraw all funds and protection. At that time, the factories will close down, and tens of thousands of people who rely on this industry for their livelihood will go bankrupt immediately. Who will those civilians you care about hate? Of course, they will hate you, the ‘great hero’ who personally cut off their last means of survival.”
Miles's words were like a bucket of cold water poured on Blaise's reason, which was burning with anger.
The numb faces in the Gan Valley, Apa's bewildered eyes, and Hersey's smile as he played with the pistol instantly flooded my mind.
The dagger, imbued with all the hatred, suddenly weighed over a thousand pounds.
"Hmph." Miles let out a short, contemptuous chuckle, shoving away Blaise's arm that was gripping his neck. Blood stained half of his refined face and the front of his expensive suit, but he nonchalantly wiped the blood from his chin with the back of his hand. "Blaze, don't you understand? In this world, those who can control the rules of the game are never people like you."
The words were no longer feigned gentleness, but rather naked, condescending contempt and disdain.
Miles straightened his back, straightened his tattered suit collar, and slowly walked out of the blood-soaked alley, re-entering the brightly lit inner room. Amid a series of exclamations, he was surrounded and helped to treat his injuries.
Blaze leaned against the alleyway, clutching a blood-dripping dagger in the darkness. His knuckles were pale from the strain, and the muscles in his arm were still twitching uncontrollably.
His overwhelming rage was forcibly suppressed in his chest, with nowhere to vent, almost tearing him apart.
Miles' words echoed repeatedly in his mind. Everything he had done for over twenty years changed in an instant. Questions he had never wanted to think about before forced their way into his brain. He was like a primitive man pushed into modern society, re-examining the way the world works.
Blaze stared intently in the direction Miles had disappeared, half his face hidden in darkness, his breathing heavy, but his emotions slowly calmed down.
*
“Ponlason was a little unhappy about what happened last night. However, Miles didn’t delve into it and expressed understanding for the young man’s impulsiveness.” Sigon’s voice rang out in the empty factory, breaking the oppressive silence.
Sunlight streamed through the dusty factory windows, creating beams of light and shadow. The massive reactors stood silently, and the air was filled with the slightly acidic smell of chemical raw materials.
With his hands behind his back, Sigon strolled slowly through the somewhat empty workshop, Blaise trailing half a step behind, while Nonai silently followed at the very back.
Xigong stopped, turned around, and calmly looked at Blaise: "The fact that you were able to stop in time and calm down shows that you still have some brains and can be saved."
Blaise kept his eyes down and didn't respond.
Xigong seemed unconcerned and continued walking forward: "I know about the patent transfer, but it won't take effect so quickly. I'll have someone handle the lawsuit. Whether you were cheated or sold out, since it's already happened, there's no point in dwelling on it." Xigong then changed the subject, "The important thing is how we deal with Lanman's actions. The Dale family line is crucial now, and Miles Dale is someone you have to tolerate."
Blaise stopped in his tracks, raised his hand, and his fingers flew across the page.
Sigon glanced sideways, and Nonai immediately stepped forward to translate, "He asked why you never told him..." Nonai paused, "...why didn't you tell him that Suma and Richard Green were friends, why didn't you say that Bio-Element was developed by them?"
Xigong's back stiffened noticeably, then he slowly turned around, his usual gentle smile disappearing, his eyes becoming sharp and complex.
“Blairs, everything I’ve done, from restarting the factory to opening up trade routes, and even maneuvering among various parties, has actually been indirectly fulfilling your mother’s last wish. After all, her life’s goal was to change Gan Valley. That patent originally belonged to half of your mother, so it’s only right that we use it. Besides, she was my own sister, and her death was the most painful thing for me. The biggest mistake I made was allowing her to study abroad and get involved with drugs. Knowing about these old things would only cause you unnecessary grief, so why should I bring them up?”
Blaise looked directly into Sigon's eyes and signed again.
Nonai's voice carried a barely perceptible hint of tension: "Blaze asked, did Suma really die from a drug overdose?"
The air seemed to freeze instantly, leaving only the low hum of the machines in the workshop.
Sigon's face darkened visibly as he stared at Blaise with icy eyes.
Nonai tried to smooth things over: "Sir, Blaise might be—"
"Enough!" Xigong interrupted sharply, his voice not loud, but carrying an undeniable air of authority. "It seems you haven't completely calmed down yet. The final payment from Taran has been delayed for a long time. You go there personally and settle this matter. You are not allowed to return to Gangu for the time being; stay in Taran and reflect on your actions. Go now!"
Once an order is given, there is no room for argument.
Sigon didn't look at Blaise again, turned and strode away, his footsteps echoing in the empty workshop.
Nonai gave Blaise a deep look, but Blaise had already turned around expressionlessly and walked towards the factory gate.
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