Chapter 113: False Intelligence
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With nothing to do by himself that evening, Qiu Fengyu went to the bar. Fortunately, it was still open. There were not many people inside, but he spotted Sandra. That fellow was always hanging around the bar.
“Hey, Qiu! How are you?” Sandra raised a hand in greeting.
Qiu Fengyu waved back and took a seat at the bar. Bruegin came over and poured him a drink. Qiu Fengyu lifted his glass, glanced at Sandra, then turned to Bruegin.
“Does that bastard drink here often?”
“Yes. Ever since his wife could no longer stand his abuse and ran away with their only daughter, he’s been a regular here. He gets drunk all the time, too.” Bruegin lowered his voice. “He owes me three hundred dollars.”
Qiu Fengyu said nothing. After a few drinks, he turned and left.
He had gone to the bar simply to escape the feeling of being alone at home. Although he had spent most of his time in Ukraine alone, he could still find women there. There were chance encounters in bars, and mutual attractions between him and female operatives during missions—people seeking to ease each other’s loneliness. At least there had always been a time and a person with whom he could vent.
But he had not encountered anything like that here yet. Everyone was from the same small town. Even when he met a woman looking for a one-night stand, he found it difficult to make a move. They saw each other every day, after all, and it would be awkward. Then there was Ryoko Yonekura. Though the two of them had somehow ended up together once, she had never taken that encounter seriously.
Perhaps that was for the best. At least there would be no entanglements because of it. They could continue as they had before, which was what Qiu Fengyu wanted. But he would never take the initiative to seek her out for that sort of thing.
Qiu Fengyu had his own principles.
The days passed slowly and peacefully. Qiu Fengyu continued guarding the little town at the same unhurried pace, watching his house gradually take shape.
Building such a house had cost more than two hundred thousand dollars, consuming all of Qiu Fengyu’s savings. But he did not care in the slightest. If it was all spent, then so be it. He had never planned his finances. In Ukraine, he had lived the same way: spending whatever he had. He never kept much money in reserve, because after today there might not be a tomorrow. Besides, he was alone, and there was no point in saving.
“How many more days until I can move in?” Qiu Fengyu asked the manager.
“Ten days. In ten days, everything will be finished, and you can move in. Of course, you’ll need to buy furniture first. You’d better order it now so it can all be delivered at once.” The manager offered him some advice. “I didn’t think you had many people living with you. It’s just you, right? Why do you need so many rooms?”
“You’re telling me that a little late,” Qiu Fengyu said with a laugh. “I’m sure they’ll all come in handy.”
Indeed, they would. Several rooms had already been claimed before the house was even finished. One for himself, one for Tim, one for April, and even that Japanese girl wanted a room. But he would not let her have one. She had contributed nothing. April, at least, had paid for the foundation. In monetary terms, that was enough to entitle her to a room.
“All right, buddy. Your house is beautiful. We’re leaving now. It’s quitting time.”
With that, the manager gave a cool whistle, and the construction workers stopped working one after another. Together with their impossibly cool manager, they left.
Qiu Fengyu glanced at the sun. It still seemed to have quite some time before setting. They were knocking off this early? Did these Americans have no spirit of working overtime at all?
“Hey! Can you guarantee that I’ll be able to move in before Christmas?” Qiu Fengyu called out loudly. At this rate, he was beginning to doubt whether the house would really be finished in ten days.
“Everything’s fine. Don’t worry!” The manager flashed him an “O” sign, climbed into his vehicle, started the engine, and sped away until he vanished from sight.
“What an unreliable bunch,” Qiu Fengyu muttered inwardly.
Complaining aside, the sky was already growing dark, so he went to prepare dinner.
The moment he entered the shop, his phone rang. A text message read: “Turn on your computer and start a video call immediately.”
What the hell was this? Qiu Fengyu checked the number. It belonged to Alyssa.
He had no choice but to go up to the attic and turn on the computer. As he waited for the connection, a request came from an unfamiliar contact. After hesitating for a moment, he accepted it.
The person who appeared on the screen was not Alyssa, but her roommate—the chubby girl.
“Qiu, I’m sorry. I had no choice but to contact you this way. I don’t know what to do. I don’t have any contact information for her family. I only know that she often video-chats with you using this contact.”
“What happened?” Qiu Fengyu frowned.
“It’s been more than sixteen hours. I went to the police, but they wouldn’t even take the report. They said they wouldn’t investigate until twenty-four hours had passed. Oh my God…” The chubby girl covered her face. “I asked her to go out and buy a few bottles of water, but she still hasn’t come back after sixteen hours. Her phone is switched off, and I can’t find her anywhere nearby…”
“You mean she’s missing?” Qiu Fengyu asked, his brow furrowing.
“Yes, yes. I think she must be. Recently, a college student was followed and then burned to death. That’s the worst possible outcome. It’s terrifying just thinking about it. Will you come help her?” The chubby girl covered her face in despair.
“Don’t panic. Wait for me to get there,” Qiu Fengyu said. “Send me the address. I’ll arrive as quickly as I can.”
He shut down the computer, packed his things, and grabbed a small bag. He placed a suppressed pistol inside, then left.
He flipped the sign at the entrance to display “Closed.” Tossing the bag onto the back seat, he started the car and sped onto the highway.
Not long after he set out, the chubby girl sent him the address.
Qiu Fengyu did not stop once along the way except to refuel. Alyssa had been followed and had disappeared; nothing mattered more than that. It was not that he had any ulterior motives toward the girl, but he regarded her as a friend. He did not want anything to happen to her, nor did he want her family to suffer grief and despair.
Time was of the essence. By the time Qiu Fengyu reached Los Angeles, it was already a little after one in the morning. He had driven as fast as he could, pushing the old car almost to its absolute limit.
Leaving the travel bag in the car, he took out the pistol and tucked it into the small of his back. He opened the door and walked toward the apartment building indicated by the address on his phone.
The place was indeed somewhat remote. The streetlamps were dim, casting a murky yellow glow. The road was narrow, and Qiu Fengyu had parked along the side.
He climbed to the fourth floor and stopped outside one of the apartments. After taking a deep breath, he drew the pistol from behind his back and gently knocked on the door with his other hand.
The door opened, revealing a chubby face. Without a word, Qiu Fengyu dragged the chubby girl out of the doorway, clamped a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming, and pressed the gun to her head.
“How many people are inside?” he asked in a low voice.
The chubby girl froze and could only whimper behind his hand.
“I’m going to let go. If you scream, I guarantee I’ll blow your head off. If you understand, nod.”
Qiu Fengyu’s voice was cold.
The chubby girl hurriedly nodded. He released her and asked in a lowered voice, “How many people are inside?”
“Three!” Her voice was faint but trembling.
“Where are they?”
“One is on the right side of the living room, one is in the room on the left…and one is on the balcony to the right. They all have guns… I’m sorry…” The chubby girl gasped, her voice breaking with tears.
“Stay here.”
Qiu Fengyu nodded at her, took out a suppressor, and attached it to the pistol. Then he suddenly dropped flat to the floor and surged forward, sliding along the ground.
A muffled pop rang out. The man on the right side of the living room was struck.
The soft report of the suppressor, together with the sound of the man collapsing, alerted the figure on the balcony. He whipped around and saw a dark gun muzzle already aimed at him. He tried to shout, but another muffled pop sounded. The bullet tore through his open mouth, and he staggered backward.
With a loud crash, his body broke a stool, which clattered to the floor.
The noise alerted the remaining man inside, but he did not rush out. He was intelligent enough to realize that he might have fallen into a trap.
“I know you’re out there!” the man shouted from inside the room. “But your girlfriend is in my hands. If you don’t want a bullet hole in her head, throw your gun over here and slowly back away.”
Qiu Fengyu threw his pistol toward the doorway. Then, judging the distance, he shifted toward the right side of the living room and stopped beside the first man who had fallen.
The door opened slowly, and a woman’s face appeared.
It was Alyssa. Tape sealed her mouth, and her hands had been bound behind her back, presumably with tape as well.
When Alyssa saw Qiu Fengyu, her eyes widened. She shook her head repeatedly, terror in her gaze. She clearly wanted him to leave, but then she saw the corpse beneath his feet and began trembling violently.
“Buddy, I never thought you’d really walk right into our trap. You even killed two of my brothers. You’re every bit as capable as the rumors say. We know all about you now…” As he spoke, the man raised his pistol and aimed it at Qiu Fengyu, sneering. “Aren’t you supposed to be so tough? Go on, shoot me!”
Alyssa shook her head desperately, muffled whimpers escaping through the tape. She looked terrified out of her mind.
“Go to hell!”
The man raised his gun and fired.
Qiu Fengyu suddenly collapsed. Amid Alyssa’s frantic muffled cries, he fell to the floor—but he was still holding a gun: the weapon taken from the man lying beside him.
A single muffled shot struck the attacker squarely in the head. His head snapped backward, and he fell to the floor in utter silence.
To be continued.