American comics: I am full of martial virtues and I love to be kind to others.

The leader was a bald man with a broad jaw and a centipede-like scar on his neck that stretched from his left ear to his collar. He held a tablet computer in his hand, glancing into each car he stopped, then looking down to compare something on the tablet.

Lynn knew what was displayed on the tablet—his photo.

The gray Honda sedan in front was waved on and allowed to pass, and the bus slowly drove to the front of the checkpoint.

The bald man stepped forward and raised his hand to signal the bus to stop.

The driver rolled down the window. "What is it?"

The bald man bent down and glanced inside the car through the window. "Routine check. We need to come up and take a look."

"Which department are you from?" the driver frowned. "Do you have any identification?"

“A private security company,” the bald man said expressionlessly, “we received a report that a dangerous individual may have boarded a bus in this direction. We need to verify the passenger's identity.”

"Private security? What right do you have to check passengers on public transportation?" The driver's attitude was somewhat forceful.

The bald man pulled a business card from his jacket pocket and handed it to the driver. “This is our company's contact information. If you have any questions, you can call Inspector Tony Zhang of the San Francisco Police Department to confirm. He's our partner.”

The driver took the business card, glanced at it, muttered "What a damn fuss," and then opened the car door. "Hurry up, my car's in a rush."

The bald man turned and waved behind him, and another man in a black jacket followed. The two men boarded the bus one after the other.

The passengers in the carriage all looked up, watching the two unexpected guests with curiosity or unease. The young backpacker sat up straight, the elderly man in the top hat put down his book, and the two Mexican women stopped chatting.

The bald man stood at the front of the carriage and cleared his throat.

"Dear passengers, excuse me. We are security personnel searching for a dangerous individual. We will quickly check each passenger's face; it won't take long. Thank you for your cooperation."

He held up the tablet, screen facing outwards. Sure enough, it displayed a photo—a front-facing picture of Lynn wearing an FBI jacket, exactly the same one Mr. Chen had shown him in the office.

"If anyone has seen this person, please tell us immediately."

Then he began to walk along the aisle to the back, checking each passenger in their seat one by one.

Another man in a black jacket remained by the car door, his arms crossed over his chest, blocking the only exit.

Lynn felt his heart pounding violently in his chest, each beat like a heavy hammer blow. He forced himself to slow his breathing, relax his facial muscles, and make himself look as natural as possible.

He took off his sunglasses—wearing sunglasses in the carriage was too conspicuous—and opened the newspaper, pretending to read the front page news. The newspaper trembled slightly in his hand; he gripped the edge tightly to stop it.

Sofia sat on Matt's lap, watching the two men in black jackets with curiosity.

"Dad, who are those people?" she asked in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft.

“I don’t know,” Matt answered softly, one arm around his daughter. “They’re probably looking for someone.”

"Looking for bad guys?"

"Maybe. Stop talking and sit still."

The bald man had already walked past the first few rows of seats. He paused in front of each passenger for about two or three seconds, his sharp gaze sweeping over each face, then glanced down at the photo on his tablet for comparison before continuing on his way.

First row, two Mexican-American women. I glanced at them, then moved on.

The second row, an elderly man in a top hat. I glanced at him a couple more times, then moved on.

In the third row, there was a young mother holding a baby. I glanced over her.

Getting closer and closer.

Lynn could smell the bald man's tobacco and leather scents mixed with the pungent odor of cheap cologne. He forced his gaze to remain on the newspaper, pretending to read a report about the drought in California, but his peripheral vision kept tracking the man's location.

The bald man walked over to the seats next to Matt's family.

He stopped in his tracks.

Lynn felt a cold gaze fall upon him. He didn't look up, continuing to stare at the dense print on the newspaper, but he couldn't concentrate on a single word.

The silence lasted for three seconds. Then—

"Hi!" Sofia suddenly looked up and waved at the bald man. "Your head is so shiny! Like a big light bulb!"

The carriage was completely silent.

Matt's wife gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Matt himself froze, his face showing the expression of someone struck by lightning.

The bald man looked down at the little girl with two pigtails who was holding a gray rabbit.

“Sophia!” Matt’s voice was taut like a fully drawn bowstring. “You can’t talk like that. Apologize to your uncle right now.”

"Why? His head is really shiny." Sofia's eyes were full of confusion and innocence.

The bald man's lips twitched. His gaze shifted from Sophia to Matt, then from Matt to Lynn beside him.

Lynn slowly put down his newspaper. He looked up and met the bald man's gaze, an awkward and helpless expression appearing on his face—like any adult who would react to their friend's daughter speaking recklessly.

“Kids don’t know any better,” he said in a lighthearted tone. “She just said my hat was dirty.”

Sophia immediately turned to Lynn and nodded seriously. "Yes, your hat is really dirty. You should wash it."

The bald man's gaze lingered on Lynn's face for a moment.

That moment felt like an eternity.

Lynn was on edge, but his expression remained unchanged. He looked like a weary worker, amused and exasperated by his friend's little girl, traveling on a long-distance bus to Renault with his family.

That's it.

The bald man's gaze fell back on the tablet, comparing the photos. The person in the photo was wearing a standard FBI jacket, with neat hair and a sharp look—a far cry from the man before him, who was covered in dust, unshaven, and wearing wrinkled work clothes.

"A family going on a trip?" the bald man asked.

Matt nodded, trying to keep his voice steady. “We're going to Renault to see my mother. She fell last week and hurt her leg, so she has some trouble moving around. We'll take the kids to see her and help look after her for a few days.”

"And who is this?" The bald man gestured with his chin toward Lynn.

“My cousin,” Matt said casually, as if it were a fact that didn’t require thought, “works on a construction site in San Francisco and happened to take a few days off to come with us. My mom really likes him and has been nagging me to let him visit.”

Lynn picked up the conversation, gesturing with his chin towards the bald man. "What happened? Who are you looking for?" The bald man glanced at him but didn't answer. He then looked down at the tablet, before looking up again, his gaze sweeping across the seats behind them.

Kevin was leaning against the window, his knitted hat pulled up to his eyebrows, his face buried in his arms, motionless, looking exactly like a sleeping office worker.

The bald man's gaze lingered on Kevin for two seconds before shifting away.

He straightened up, took a few steps back, and checked the passengers in the last few rows—the young backpacker, a young Asian girl wearing headphones, and two Latino men wearing similar gray T-shirts.

No one matched the characteristics in the photo.

The bald man walked back to the front of the carriage and exchanged a glance with his companion by the door. The companion shook his head slightly.

The bald man turned to the driver. "It's alright, you can go now."

"Finally finished checking," the driver muttered, "It took me ten minutes."

Two men in black jackets disembarked from the bus one after the other. The bald man glanced back at the carriage one last time—his gaze was like a sharp knife, slicing through every face from front to back.

The moment Lynn felt that gaze slide across him, it was like a piece of ice brushing against his skin.

Then, the bus doors closed.

The engine roared up again, and the bus slowly drove away from the checkpoint, returning to the open highway.

Outside the car window, the black SUVs and white vans gradually shrank in the rearview mirror, finally disappearing behind a bend.

Lynn let out a long breath. He felt his back was soaked with cold sweat, his shirt clinging tightly to his skin, and a chill ran down his spine to his limbs.

Matt breathed a sigh of relief. His arm was still around Sophia, but Lynn noticed his hand was trembling slightly.

“Thank you,” Lynn said in a voice only Matt could hear.

Matt didn't speak, but simply closed his eyes tightly for a moment, then shook his head slightly, as if denying that he had done anything remarkable.

His wife leaned over from the window and gave Lynn a complicated look. Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just turned her head and pressed her face against Sophia's head.

Sophia was completely oblivious to what had just happened. She was intently braiding the gray rabbit's ears into a plait with her little finger, humming a song only she knew.

The bus once again entered the vast California landscape.

The scenery along the highway grew increasingly vast—golden dry meadows stretched to the horizon, occasionally broken by a few solitary oak trees breaking the monotony of the skyline. The distant hills took on a dry brown hue, tinged with a soft orange glow in the afternoon sun. The sky was a deep, almost transparent blue, with a few white contrails, like chalk lines on a canvas, slowly spreading and fading high above.

About twenty minutes later, the atmosphere in the carriage returned to calm. The passengers went back to their own routines—those who were dozing continued to doze, those who were chatting continued to chat, and those who were reading continued to read. The search that had just taken place seemed to have been forgotten by everyone, like a trivial speed bump on a highway.

But Lynn knew that some people would never forget.

Just as he was about to stand up and return to his seat in the back, Matt spoke softly.

"You just said you're a law enforcement officer."

Lynn stopped what she was doing and looked at him.

“Those people,” Matt said, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, his voice low, “are they really members of a criminal organization?”

"Yes."

Matt was silent for a moment. "They set up checkpoints on public roads, stopping long-distance buses and searching passengers, and nobody's doing anything about it?"

“They mentioned a San Francisco Police Department name,” Lynn said. “That name might be real. That’s why I couldn’t get help from the police.”

Matt frowned. He glanced down at Sophia, who was playing with a rabbit, then looked up at Lynn.

"Do you have family?" he asked suddenly.

This question surprised Lynn somewhat. "No."

Matt nodded, a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps understanding, perhaps sympathy, perhaps just a father's instinctive pity for another lonely man.

“Whatever you did, whatever it was,” Matt said, “was definitely dangerous.”

"Yes."

"Then why are you still doing it?"

Lynn thought for a moment. He looked at Sophia—that innocent little girl, earnestly braiding the gray rabbit's hair, completely unaware of the darkness and evil threatening her safety in the world.

“Because someone has to do it,” he finally said. “If no one does it, families like yours won’t be safe.”

Matt stared at him, remaining silent for a long time.

“You don’t need to go back,” he finally said. “Just sit here. It’s still more than two hours to Renault.”

"I don't want to cause you any more trouble."

“It’s not even that much of a hassle anymore,” Matt said softly, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Sophia has already labeled you ‘Uncle Hat,’ and you can’t shake it off even if you wanted to.”

Sophia did indeed look up, her large eyes fixed on Lynn. "Uncle John, are you leaving?"

“I’m not leaving,” Lynn said. “Uncle will sit here with you.”

"Great!" Sophia immediately shoved the gray rabbit in front of Lynn. "Can you braid the bunny's hair for me? I can't braid the other side properly."

Lynn looked at the crumpled gray plush rabbit, then took it and awkwardly pinched its soft ears with two fingers.

"I'm not very good at braiding."

"It's okay, I'll teach you. First, divide your ear into three sections."

Matt's wife watched this scene, and the tense lines on her face finally relaxed. She took a bottle of water out of her canvas bag and silently handed it to Lynn.

“Thank you,” Lynn said, taking the water bottle. “Thank you so much.”

The woman shook her head. "My name is Rachel," she said softly. "I hope you get to where you need to go safely."

The bus continued speeding along Highway 80, cutting through the edge of the Sacramento Valley and climbing towards the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The scenery outside the window began to change—dry meadows gave way to slopes covered with pine and fir trees, the air filled with a crisp, resinous scent. The highway wound its way up the mountains, and with each bend, the distant, layered peaks stretched out in the afternoon sun, like solidified waves surging across the earth. (End of Chapter)