Fyren's temper flared. "I'm getting out to check."
"Fyren, it's pouring." Chloe popped open her umbrella and dashed out, holding it over him.
Fyren stepped on Hakan's fingers and unfolded the map in the downpour. "Look! This intersection—we passed it earlier!"
Zaring leaned in, stomping on Hakan's other hand. He studied the map, then the fork, and slammed his foot down. "You're right! Fyren, you're a genius!"
The stomp jolted Hakan back to consciousness. Two of his fingers were broken. Wincing in agony, he yanked his other hand from under Fyren's heel, clutching the deformed digits. "Fyren… I'll curse you…" he croaked hoarsely.
Fyren laughed heartily. "Perfect! Past this intersection, it's a straight shot to the highway—smooth sailing from there!"
Chloe cooed, "Fyren, following you always brings good luck."
"Damn right! Who do you think I am? The Chosen One!"
Zaring stomped again. Hakan's eyes bulged as his body convulsed.
"Fyren, you're truly wise and mighty!"
Chloe stamped her foot. "Fyren, you're like a god descended from heaven!"
"More than a god—ruler of the three realms!" Zaring stomped again.
"Zaring and I agree completely!" Chloe stamped.
"I'll follow Fyren all my life, never leaving his side!"
"Same here—life and death with Fyren!"
With each stomp, Hakan's suffering mounted. All ten fingers were pulp, caked in mud. Red sludge was kicked into his mouth, stuffing it so he couldn't even move his tongue.
"Fyren, let's get in the car," Chloe said.
"Right."
"Zaring, can you still drive? Want me to take over?"
"Fine… Wait, Fyren! Someone's trying to extort us! Get in the car—I'll break their legs! Wait… They're already broken?"
Fyren knelt in shock. "Hakan!?"
Hakan stared weakly, rain pelting his face. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
"His legs—multiple fractures!" Fyren gasped.
"No way," Zaring muttered. "Who'd be so brutal?"
Hakan glared at Zaring, too weak to curse.
"Look at his fingers—all ten are mangled!"
"Barbaric! Fingers are connected to the heart—this is torture!" Zaring exclaimed.
Hakan was livid enough to die.
Chloe asked, "What do we do, Fyren?"
He sighed. "He's my college classmate. Leave him here, he'll die. Let's get him in the car. Zaring, put that cushion in the trunk so he can lie down."
"The trunk's packed with tools—no space for him."
"Stop being dense. What do we need those for? Throw them out—we'll buy new ones later!"
"Ah, that's a waste."
"Waste my ass. In this storm, are those gadgets worth more than a human life?"
Zaring dumped the trunk's contents by the roadside. He and Fyren heaved Hakan into the trunk, then climbed back in.
By the final stretch of mountain road, cell service returned. Fyren called local authorities to arrange an ambulance. Here, the danger faded—they even passed isolated mountain homes. The trio grew giddy, breaking into song:
"I don't like your little games
Don't like your tilted stage
The role you made me play
Of the fool, no, I don't like you
I don't like your perfect crime!"
"How you laugh when you lie!"
Fyren twisted around, grinning at Hakan in the trunk. "Hakan, sing along!"
Hakan eyed Fyren's excitement weakly, then shut his eyes in agony.
Halfway, a convoy approached. A striking figure stepped from the lead SUV. Fyren rolled down the window, smiling. "Officer Zoey! Long time no see!"
Zoey frowned. "Fyren, where's Hakan?"
"He's in my trunk."
"Take me to him."
Opening the trunk, Zoey found Hakan, unconscious again from the 颠簸 (jostling). She turned to Fyren. "What happened?"
"Let's talk later—it's a long story."
"His injuries—did you run into a bear?"
"Worse. We found him like this by the road. Let's discuss it back at base, yeah? We're starving and exhausted."
Seeing Fyren's earnest worry, Zoey believed him. "Follow my convoy."
It turned out that after Hakan's crew fled the mountains, one lackey—fearing Hakan's death might "curse" him—reported to the police. The tip was trivial, but Zoey happened to be delivering documents nearby. Hearing Hakan and Fyren were missing, she grilled the informant. Within an hour, he spilled everything: Hakan shooting a stranger, Fyren risking his life to save someone.
They dispatched a search team, but rescuers shrugged it off. You all signed liability waivers—why risk our necks for rich brats?
Moreover, upon learning it involved a gunfight with fatalities—and torrential rain—they refused the rescue. They insisted that without guaranteed safety, they had the right to delay rescue until weather improved. Departing now would require special documentation, and the police department's special docs needed solid evidence and witnesses to justify risking lives in such conditions.
So Zoey grilled the young man again, made him reveal his companions' identities, and arrested more to take statements. Only when statements aligned and documents were issued did the rescue team reluctantly set out. But this delay meant the convoy didn't encounter Fyren's group until evening.
Hakan was transferred to a medical vehicle, while the rest followed police and rescue cars to give statements. Fyren's crew had nothing to fear. The Gold King wouldn't set foot in a police station, leaving no evidence. In their statements, Fyren was spotless—more than innocent, he'd performed heroic rescues. The only catch: they couldn't mention Fyren accidentally wounding the Gold King during his tryst with Chloe. But that was easy—with Gold King absent, Hakan and his men were clueless. When they'd encountered Gold King, he was already injured, and they swore all his bullet wounds were theirs.
Since Hakan was too badly injured for questioning, and Fyren's crew's story matched the young men's statements, Fyren, Zaring, and Chloe were quickly cleared.
Tinson, hearing his son was in trouble, flew to Crystalpeak City on a private jet. Just exiting the police station en route to the hospital, he spotted Fyren. "Fyren," he said.
Fyren feigned surprise, then activated his social charm. "Uncle Tinson!?" He hurried to shake hands.
Tinson sighed. "The officers told me everything, Fyren. Thank you."
"Not a word, Uncle. Hakan and I were college mates—of course I'd help."
"Fyren, did you really see him shoot that man?"
Fyren glanced around, pulling Tinson aside. "Uncle, it's not that I won't cover for you, but I can't. Too many witnesses saw Hakan going ballistic, ordering others to kill. Can you trust those lackeys? Hakan was an idiot! With so many eyes and the victim still alive—if one talks, it'll bring everyone down. This can't be buried."
"I understand, nephew. If only Hakan had your sense… Fyren, is that man definitely dead?"
"Probably not," Fyren said. "Though it looked bad, no vital organs were hit. His men rescued him."
"That's a relief!" Tinson exclaimed. "When the time comes, I hope you'll testify for Hakan."
Fyren feigned a grimace. "Uncle Tinson, I... let me be frank. Hakan and I had a major falling-out recently over business. But you know how it is—we share a history. Business disputes should stay in the boardroom! Plus, when I stopped him from killing someone, he seemed... rather hostile toward me."
"He's a fool!" Tinson snapped. "I heard you found him on the road and saved his life."
"Pure coincidence," Fyren said. "Later, the rain was so heavy my car flipped. We struggled to right it, then saw him on the road, beaten to a pulp. No idea what happened, but I loaded him into the car. By the way, any word from the hospital?"
"Sigh, he survived, but both legs are broken." Tinson ground his teeth. "Multiple fractures! Whoever did this was brutal. Fyren, I must go to the hospital immediately. No need to mention favors—Uncle Tinson remembers kindness."
"Please, Uncle. Hakan and I are like brothers; you're like a father to me."
Tinson smiled, clapping Fyren's shoulder. "Our family repays debts. Fyren, I must go. Need anything? Just ask."
"Will do."
Tinson's bodyguards escorted him to the car, and the convoy drove off.
Zaring gaped. "Fyren, is that Tinson? The Trillion Group CEO?"
Fyren nodded. "Southlandia's tycoon—his assets could buy twenty Dasheng Groups."
"His aura is terrifying!" Zaring marveled. "Like a head of state."
"Agreed," Fyren said. "Even with his son's crisis, he stays sharp and steady. You don't reach that level without weathering real storms."
"Fyren, even if you were his age, your presence would match his!" Zaring said earnestly.
Fyren smiled, patting his cheek. "Little brother."
"Hehe, our ride's over there. I had the Mercedes towed. Called a limo since you're beat."
"Chloe, take a few days off. Find a temp and tell her to prep gifts. I need to visit Hakan tomorrow."
"I'm fine. A good night's sleep will do me."
Just then, Zoey emerged with an umbrella. "Master Fyren, leaving so soon? Won't you stay?"