Liu Chen walked outside the villa and unexpectedly discovered that the taxi had left without saying goodbye.
Without a cellphone, no acquaintances, in the hot weather, and quite far from downtown, was he supposed to rely on "Route 11" to get back?
A gust of hot wind blew through, and Liu Chen somewhat desolately felt, should he buy a car?
Nonchalantly discarding the reclining chair, Liu Chen strode toward downtown.
This part of the walk was good, and when he saw some cars passing by, Liu Chen had already stripped down to just his tank top.
Just when Liu Chen was about to hail a taxi, two posh convertible Range Rovers squealed to a halt right beside him, one stopping just a punch's distance from him.
Ten people got out of the vehicles, each over one meter ninety and muscular, comparable to bodybuilders, their muscles comically bulging.
"You look familiar, it really is you!" the leader bellowed with wide, furious eyes as if he had seen the murderer of his wife and children.
