Luke listened to the song quietly.
Unexpectedly, the old man could sing pretty well.
He sang with a smile, but only he knew how much blood and tears he had experienced.
What a waste for this old guy to be a hitman! He should've been a talk show performer or singer! Luke thought to himself.
The car drove west in the dark and headed for the beach.
The country road was silent at night, and Kincaid, who was tired of singing, fell asleep.
No matter how tough the old man was, he couldn't withstand the exhaustion from blood loss.
Luke sat quietly in the backseat. Suddenly, his expression changed, and he looked in the rearview mirror.
"We have company," he said.
Michael looked in the rearview mirror. "How do you know?"
Luke said, "Don't suddenly speed up; slow down a little. This isn't a car chase movie."
Michael asked, "Are you sure?"
