279: Blood Rain End

Chapter 279: The End of the Bloody Rain. "Cease fire!"

A gruff voice came from outside. "Don't wreck the vehicle! We want him alive! We only get half the money if he's dead!"

The gunfire stopped.

Footsteps began to approach the garbage truck.

The sound of splashing water.

One step, two steps.

Chen Mo held his breath. In the palm of his left hand, the crystal chip was slightly warm.

He couldn't die here.

Nian Nian was still waiting for him.

"Come on out, Officer Chen."

That gruff voice was right outside the door. "We know you're in there. Come out quietly, and I can spare you some pain. We want your brain; as for your limbs, they don't matter."

Chen Mo glanced at the layout of the driver's cabin.

This truck had been modified. Besides being sturdy, it had another feature.

The fuel tank was located right behind the cabin.

And the half-smoked cigar the Fat Man had left earlier happened to fall right next to the handbrake.

"You want me?"

Chen Mo suddenly shouted, "Then come in and get me yourself!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he slammed open the door on the other side of the cabin.

"Over there!"

"Fire!"

All the muzzles instantly turned in that direction.

But Chen Mo didn't get out.

He simply threw out the backpack containing the spare pistol.

Taking advantage of the second everyone was distracted by the backpack,

Chen Mo picked up the still-burning cigar and shoved it into the fuel inlet behind the seat.

This garbage truck ran on diesel, so it wouldn't explode easily.

But for the sake of power, the Fat Man had added nitro accelerant to it.

Boom!

Chen Mo kicked the door open. Before the massive airwave could flip the roof, he launched himself out and rolled into the muddy ditch by the roadside.

A massive fireball soared into the sky.

The shockwave from the explosion sent the nearest bounty hunters flying; they rolled on the ground, screaming as they were engulfed in flames.

"Damn it! This lunatic!"

The scarred man in the lead wiped the black soot from his face and looked at the blazing wreckage. "Search! He couldn't have gone far! That leg is broken; he can't run fast!"

Chen Mo indeed hadn't gone far.

He was lying prone in the muddy water less than ten meters away from them.

His body was covered with a layer of dead grass and trash.

The rain washed away his body heat, and the cold was bone-piercing.

But he couldn't feel the cold.

He could only hear sounds.

Seven people left.

Three on the left, two on the right, and two more guarding the off-road vehicles.

The sound of heartbeats was like a net, enveloping him in the center.

"If I move even a little, I'll be riddled with bullets."

Chen Mo gripped the Butterfly Knife in his hand.

"Then don't move."

Ruan Qiushui's voice suddenly became cold and sharp. "I'll do it."

"You can't," Chen Mo said in his mind. "That strike just now already damaged your spiritual body. If you act again, your soul will be extinguished."

"That's still better than watching you die!"

Just as the two were in a stalemate,

the roar of an engine suddenly came from the distance.

That sound was very peculiar.

It wasn't the roar of a fuel engine, but an electromagnetic hum like the low growl of a wild beast.

Those were heavy motorcycles.

And there was more than one.

"What's that noise?"

Scarface looked up alertly, staring into the darkness at the end of the road.

Two piercing beams of purple light tore through the curtain of rain.

Immediately after, over a dozen motorcycles with exaggerated designs came whistling toward them.

The people on the bikes wore leather jackets with fluorescent graffiti, waving chains and Molotov cocktails in their hands.

They were 'Bozozoku'.

The most common armed force on the outskirts of the Sin City.

"Damn it, it's the 'Neon Gang'!"

Scarface's expression changed drastically. "Why are these mad dogs out? Retreat! Retreat quickly!"

As ruthless as bounty hunters were, they had to take a detour when they encountered these suicidal local gangs.

But it was already too late.

Bang!

A Molotov cocktail traced a parabola and smashed precisely onto the bounty hunters' off-road vehicle.

Flames instantly blocked their path of retreat.

"Brothers! It's time to eat!"

In the motorcycle troop, a man wearing a gas mask gave a strange cry and swung down a large jagged blade. "Kill all the men, keep the vehicles!"

A chaotic battle broke out instantly.

Screams, the clashing of metal, and the roar of engines blended together.

Chen Mo remained prone in the muddy water, motionless.

He was waiting.

Waiting for these two groups of dogs to tear each other apart.

Five minutes later.

The sounds gradually died down.

The bounty hunters were completely wiped out.

The Neon Gang members were cleaning up the battlefield, stripping clothes from the corpses and scavenging weapons.

The leader wearing the gas mask rode his bike around slowly, finally stopping by the ditch where Chen Mo was hiding.

He tilted his head, looking at the pile of dead grass.

"Come out."

The leader's voice was processed through a voice changer, sounding like an electronic synthesizer. "Your heartbeat is too loud; I can hear it from ten meters away."

Chen Mo sighed.

He pushed aside the trash on him and slowly stood up.

Though covered in mud and in a wretched state, his eyes remained as calm as a pool of stagnant water.

"I heard you're worth a lot of money?"

The leader sized Chen Mo up, the jagged blade in his hand glinting coldly in the rain. "The Special Investigation Bureau's wanted poster says capturing you is worth a ten million bounty."

The surrounding gang members closed in, letting out bursts of greedy laughter.

Chen Mo didn't look at the blade.

He looked at the leader's chest.

There was a strange symbol painted there: a severed palm with an eye in the center.

"Are you one of 'Severed-Hand Jack's' people?" Chen Mo suddenly asked.

The leader paused. "You know our boss?"

"I don't."

Chen Mo shook his head and raised his charred mechanical left arm. "But this hand, he sold it to me three years ago. At the time, he said this hand had a hidden function and a lifetime warranty."

"Bullshit!"

The leader cursed. "The boss never sells junk like that!"

"Is that so?"

Chen Mo smiled. "Then maybe he forgot to tell me that this hand is actually a... bomb?"

Before the words finished,

Chen Mo suddenly raised his hand, and a piercing red light emitted from the palm of the mechanical arm.

Of course, it wasn't a bomb.

It was a high-frequency alarm he had just ripped off the dashboard of the garbage truck and temporarily connected to the arm's power supply.

Zzzzt—!

An extremely high-decibel screech instantly exploded.

This audio frequency was merely ear-piercing to ordinary people, but for these Bozozoku who wore cochlear implants or hearing aids, it was simply brain-shattering torture.

"Aaaagh!!!"

The leader screamed and fell off his bike, clutching his ears.

The people around were also wailing, and some even began foaming at the mouth.

There were only three seconds of opportunity.

Chen Mo lunged forward and snatched the heavy motorcycle the leader had dropped on the ground.

Straighten, ignite, shift gears.

The movements were smooth and fluid.

"Thanks."

Chen Mo shouted to the leader rolling on the ground, "This is a nice bike; consider it a loan."

Vroom!

The rear wheel kicked up a large cloud of mud, spraying it directly onto the leader's face.

The motorcycle was like an arrow shot from a bow, breaking through the encirclement and racing toward the bizarrely flickering neon city ahead.

The rain stopped.

On the distant horizon, a massive holographic billboard lit up half the night sky.

It was a heavily made-up lady holding a glass of blue liquid, smiling at Chen Mo.

Below the billboard were several large words flowing with fluorescent graffiti:

[Sin City: Welcome to Hell, where even the air is sweet.]

Chen Mo wiped the rainwater from his face.

"Nian Nian."

He said softly into the wind, "Big brother is coming."

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