The eighth hour had dawned.
The Hummer roared through the streets of the city, with Wen Rou still periodically scanning for targets through her binoculars.
Hong Lang, meanwhile, kept a vigilant eye on the rankings displayed on the Bloody Emblem.
Fortunately, during this time, the kill scores of most adventurers had risen only modestly. Even those ranked in the top ten seemed to have lost their lucky streak, with their scores climbing slowly.
This gave Hong Lang a sigh of relief.
When one's own performance is lacking, seeing others struggle similarly can be a great psychological comfort, especially when the stakes are as high as life and wealth.
The Hummer had now entered the Brooklyn area, marking their official entry into New York City.
Brooklyn, once known as a predominantly African-American neighborhood, had a reputation for being one of the highest crime areas in the U.S., perceived by some as a chaotic, dirty, and sinful place. However, with time and social progress, Brooklyn's notorious reputation gradually improved. Though its African-American residents still harbored a hostile attitude towards outsiders, the emergence of mutants and the rise of new racism drew them into the fray of this new racial conflict.
Perhaps due to their history of slavery, African-Americans harbored deep-seated hatred for racism, making them more sympathetic and even supportive of mutants compared to whites. This resulted in Brooklyn being one of the least affected areas in the ongoing war.
The streets of Brooklyn were neatly arranged like a chessboard, with many named numerically. The bustling commercial streets, branching into quiet residential lanes, were lined with colorful and diverse houses, each street consistent in architectural style. From standalone mansions nestled in greenery, fairy-tale cottages with pointed roofs, practical semi-detached or terraced houses, to colonial houses with arcaded porches and Victorian houses with protruding windows and thin columns, these varied, colorful, neat, and beautiful old houses, some over a hundred years old, stood like elegantly dressed middle-aged women, weathered yet glorious. Strolling through these streets, one could enjoy the leisurely ambiance, admiring the personalized and creative red and green flora in front of each house, along with seemingly randomly placed decorative pieces, a feast for the eyes.
The Hummer slowed down as it traveled through the streets of Brooklyn. Despite the ravages of war leaving New York in ruins, Brooklyn, known as the City of Trees, still maintained much of its beauty — ironically, the once chaotic area was now one of the safest in New York.
Shen Yi, sitting in the vehicle, suddenly pointed to a restaurant ahead, "I've eaten there."
Wen Rou put down her binoculars and looked at Shen Yi.
"Two years ago, I was on a business trip in New York. A colleague introduced me to this place. A young African-American man went all the way to China to learn how to cook Chinese cuisine, then came back and opened this Chinese restaurant. Can you imagine? His cooking was more authentic than most Chinese, but business wasn't great. I ate there a few times and became friends with him... I just saw him standing at the entrance."
Shen Yi smiled at Wen Rou.
Wen Rou thought for a moment, then asked, "Do you think he would recognize you if you went there now?"
A hint of confusion appeared in Shen Yi's eyes, "I don't know..."
After a moment, he shook his head with a smile, "No, that's impossible. This isn't the world we once knew and were familiar with. It just looks similar..."
He looked at Wen Rou, "They are just a bunch of NPCs."
Wen Rou opened her mouth to say something but ended up saying nothing.
As Shen Yi watched the restaurant disappear behind them, his eyes filled with sorrow — if the people in this mission world were just NPCs, what were they themselves?
No one could answer that question.
His wandering thoughts scattered and regrouped with the wind, and he focused his mind, patting Jin Gang on the shoulder, "Stop here for a bit, I'll go gather some information."
"Are you sure you can find the information you need here?" Jin Gang was skeptical.
They were currently stopped on 230th Street.
New York's streets are often numerically named, stretching from First Avenue to the hundreds. For instance, the famous Fashion Avenue, Fifth Avenue, and so on.
230th Street in Brooklyn was somewhat notorious, not for its prosperity, but for its chaos.
Long before the human-mutant war, it was known as a haven for gang violence. Every year, there were over twenty murders on 230th Street, along with countless kidnappings, thefts, and robberies. In the famous movie "Die Hard 3," Bruce Willis's character, a New York cop, is stripped to his underwear on this very street, wearing a sign that read, "I hate n*****s," — nearly torn
apart by the local African-Americans.
Facing Jin Gang's doubtful gaze, Shen Yi smiled slightly.
"The most chaotic places often have the most informed sources," he said softly.
Around the corner, a nightclub was in full swing.
In these war-torn times, many businesses had withered, but nightclubs remained largely unaffected. With people unable to afford travels to beaches and sunny spots, drowning sorrows in alcohol became one of the most economical forms of entertainment.
Especially for the ruffians and hoodlums living day-to-day, seizing the moment to enjoy life was a priority.
Inside the nightclub, pleasant music played, and a group of dancers performed energetically on the main stage. Bunny girls in skimpy outfits roamed with trays of drinks, inquiring about the guests' needs. Laughter and loud conversations filled the private rooms, with guests holding cigars that wafted trails of smoke.
Shen Yi casually walked to the bar and placed a ten-dollar bill on the counter, "Something to drink, anything will do."
The bartender quickly served him a Martini.
The dollars were exchanged by Shen Yi before entering the Bloody City. Unlike those adventurers who resorted to robbery upon entering the mission world, he preferred a softer approach. One Bloody Point could be exchanged for twenty dollars, and the Bloody City had fixed the exchange rate between the yuan and the dollar at a permanent 5 to 1. Shen Yi once joked that this was Bloody City's prediction of the future appreciation of the yuan, while Wen Rou thought the forecast was somewhat derogatory.
"Anything else you need, sir?" the bartender asked with a solicitous smile.
Shen Yi casually took out another ten-dollar bill and handed it to the bartender, "Just answer a question for me."
The answer depends on the question," the bartender said cautiously, not taking the money.
"I want to know who is the most well-informed person around here."
The bartender looked troubled and after a moment of thought, he leaned in and whispered, "If it's not urgent, I'd advise against seeking him out. He's not someone to be trifled with."
"Just answer the question."
"Add another ten dollars," the bartender replied.
With twenty dollars in hand, the bartender quickly pocketed the money and, while wiping the bar seemingly nonchalantly, said, "Mr. Mobley in booth number 3. And I'll deny I ever told you."
"Understood," Shen Yi nodded.
After circling the nightclub, Shen Yi found a spot from where he could observe booth number 3. Through the hanging bead curtains, he could make out a middle-aged man flanked by two bar girls. Outside the booth stood two burly men with extensive tattoos on their exposed arms.
Shen Yi, appearing relaxed, observed the man for a while and then snapped his fingers to call over a bar girl. "What can I get for you, sir?"
Shen Yi handed a stack of dollars to the girl, "Pick a good bottle of wine for me and send it to Mr. Mobley in booth number 3."
"Do you want me to convey any message?" the bar girl asked astutely.
"No need to say anything."
The girl took the money and left.
Before long, a bottle of expensive wine was delivered to booth number 3. The middle-aged man looked surprised and, after asking a few questions, glanced over at Shen Yi.
Shen Yi raised his glass in a distant toast to the man.
Soon, the bar girl returned to Shen Yi, "Mr. Mobley invites you over."
Inside room number 3, Mobley coldly stared at Shen Yi. He was a man whose cruel face betrayed his nature.
Mobley was a known underworld figure in the area, dealing in dirty money and laundering. His main contacts were criminals, which made him extremely well-informed. He occasionally dabbled in selling information as well.
After a while, Mobley, still hugging the girl beside him, said, "Do you know why I called him over? Not because of the eight hundred dollar wine he sent, but because he made no demands in the process. It's easy to find a bunch of freaks in this world, but hard to find someone who is altruistic. I believe he's not that kind of person; in fact, I don't deal with such people. This only means one thing: our friend indeed needs something from me, and he's bold and confident in his approach. However, he underestimated me, Mobley. He should have used a three thousand dollar wine to attract my attention."
Mobley pointed to the wine bottle, "This bottle lets you sit in front of me, but if you say something displeasing, I'll throw you out immediately."
Shen Yi smiled slightly, "I never thought to use eight hundred dollars to buy Mr. Mobley's lunchtime. You might not be Warren Buffet, but in certain respects, you can name a pretty price for a lunch with you, especially for someone as well-informed as you."
"I knew it," Mobley muttered, wiping his mouth with a napkin, "So, tell me, what do you want to know?"
"Information about mutants."
"If it's common information, you can find plenty just by asking anyone outside this room."
"I need information on where they are and how to find them."
"That's not common information," Mobley narrowed his eyes, taking a few heavy puffs of his cigar before slowly saying, "Ten days ago, some scumbags bought a batch of arms from Lehman Brothers. Someone recognized one of them as a mutant. One of my guys tracked where these weapons went and got an address."
"I want that address."
Mobley looked at Shen Yi, a bit puzzled, then flicked cigar ash in front of Shen Yi before saying deliberately, "I don't care who you are, and I'm not interested. I don't even want to know what you have to do with those mutant bastards. Want information from me? It'll cost you. Three hundred thousand dollars."
"Three hundred thousand dollars?" Shen Yi chuckled, "That's not cheap."
"The FBI pays the same."
"No," Shen Yi shook his head, "If it were the FBI, they'd give you a file listing all the dirty deeds you've done over the years, enough to keep you in jail for the rest of your life. Then, you'd willingly tell them everything they want to know in exchange for continuing to enjoy your days, including continuing to fleece customers like me."
Mobley chuckled, pulling the woman beside him closer and pointing at Shen Yi with his cigar-holding finger, "I like this guy."
Then he slammed his hand on the table and barked, "Pay up, or get out! For the sake of the wine, you've got one last chance to walk out of here on your own legs."
Shen Yi smiled lightly, "There's something I forgot to tell you. The reason I gave you a bottle of wine worth eight hundred dollars wasn't to buy your lunchtime. It's because I realized that New York now is different from what I had anticipated. In these chaotic times, money still matters, but it's no longer dominant. There's something else more valuable and less costly. Considering money has little meaning to me now, I could afford to be more generous, using it as compensation to you."
"Compensation?"
"Yes," Shen Yi replied with a smile.
Swiftly, Shen Yi grabbed Mobley's head, pressing it hard into a fruit bowl on the table. The burly guards rushed in, but before they could react, Shen Yi stretched out his hand and grasped one guard's neck, pressing lightly on his Adam's apple. The guard collapsed to the ground. The other guard reached for his gun, but Shen Yi stepped on his foot, pulled him over, and knocked him out too.
This fluid attack sequence was executed without Shen Yi even standing up, effortlessly neutralizing Mobley's two bodyguards. The women beside Mobley were just beginning to scream when Shen Yi gestured for silence.
Lifting Mobley, whose face was smeared with fruit, Shen Yi plucked a squashed grape from his face, holding a toothpick and smilingly said, "Give me the address, or I'll pluck out your eyeballs like grapes and stuff them in your mouth."
His demeanor was gentle, not at all like someone capable of brutality. But Mobley, accustomed to the underworld, knew to judge a person's ruthlessness by their actions, not expressions. Shen Yi's effortless defeat of the bodyguards and his decisive actions showed he was not to be taken lightly.
Quick to understand his position, Mobley immediately responded, "145th Street... Hudson Building, there's an underground garage there with at least twenty mutants!"
"Very good," Shen Yi nodded in satisfaction, slightly releasing his grip.
After brushing off the debris from Mobley and patting his face, Shen Yi spoke in a mild tone, "You know, most of the time, I prefer not to resort to violence. But I must admit, sometimes it's a very effective solution. Consider the wine as an apology, and have a pleasant night."
With that, Shen Yi stood up and walked out. Just as he was about to leave, he noticed something. A young Caucasian man was coming out of the neighboring room, sporting the same Bloody Emblem on his wrist.
An adventurer?
Shen Yi was taken aback.
The adventurer also noticed Shen Yi, showing a shocked expression.
Both glanced back at their respective rooms, and Shen Yi asked sternly, "Who was in the room next to yours?"
"My subordinates."
"The one who found the mutant's trail, is he there too?"
"Yes," Mobley replied, confused by the sudden question.
"Damn it!" Shen Yi cursed.
The young Caucasian man, apparently having asked the same question and received a similar answer, also cursed in anger.
The two men exchanged glances, their eyes ablaze with fury, and suddenly both dashed towards the nightclub's exit.
Shen Yi burst out of the nightclub, leaping into the Hummer in a Jackie Chan-style move, shouting, "Go! Drive!"
Simultaneously, the young Caucasian man rushed out to a red sports car parked nearby, yelling, "Drive! Fast!"
Jin Gang started the engine, asking, "What happened?"
"Nothing much, just ran into other adventurers. They got the address too. If you don't drive faster, we'll lose our chance," Shen Yi replied casually.
"Damn it!" Jin Gang cursed, pressing hard on the accelerator, and the Hummer sped off.
The two vehicles raced towards 145th Street. The red sports car, driven by a young, attractive blonde woman, was slightly behind the Hummer. Inside were two men, one Caucasian and one African-American.
Seeing the Hummer ahead, the young Caucasian man in the passenger seat yelled, "Vina! You better speed up, we need to get there before them!"
"Don't worry!" the blonde woman, Vina, laughed and opened a control box on the dashboard, revealing a row of buttons. She pressed a red button, smiling at the young man, "Nitrous oxide injected."
Flames burst from the exhaust of the sports car, propelling it forward like an arrow, quickly surpassing the Hummer.
"Whoa!" The adventurers in the red sports car let out loud shouts of triumph, with the previously seen Caucasian man even extending his middle finger towards Shen Yi.
"Damn it!" Hong Lang punched the dashboard in frustration, dislodging a panel and revealing a tangle of wires, "Jin Gang, you idiot, how are you driving?!"
"That car is modified!" Jin Gang shouted back, "Our vehicle can't match its speed, and I'm not familiar enough with these roads!"
Shen Yi instructed, "Wen Rou, check the map and find the best route to 145th Street! Estimate how long it'll take us to get there."
Wen Rou unfolded the map, her fingers rapidly tracing paths, "145th Street is in Queens. From here, it's through at least sixty-eight blocks. If there's no traffic, it will take around 40 minutes. But with their speed, I estimate they could reach in about 30 minutes."
"We can't let them kill all the mutants in those 10 minutes. We must get there before them. Wen Rou, find us a route that will get us there in 20 minutes!"
"That's much simpler," Wen Rou drew a straight line between their current position and 145th Street, "We go straight."
The people in the car exchanged glances.
"Oh no!" Jin Gang shook his head, "That's crazy."
"The crazy stuff is my job," Shen Yi smiled, "I'll drive this time. Wen Rou, you navigate."
"But I'm not a professional navigator," Wen Rou exclaimed.
"We don't need a professional."
Just then, Hong Lang suddenly shouted, "There's a pile-up ahead causing a traffic jam, damn it, those adventurers caused it."
"It doesn't matter," Shen Yi calmly replied, "We won't be needing this road for long."
"Fasten your seat belts!" Jin Gang cried out hysterically.