Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 230 Questions
There were no lights in the alley, only the flashing light of an advertising screen on a building in the distance, reflecting the potholes and puddles on the ground.

The walls were mottled, electrical wires hung down, and an iron gate was half-closed.

The man clutched his stomach, squatted against the wall, his face pale, with some vomit still on his clothes.

"Can those people still be saved?" he asked hoarsely.

“They didn’t pay,” Zhou Yi glanced at him. “Besides, you’d better get out of here right away.”

"When the military and police arrive, you'll have to pay to explain why you're out there."

The air fell silent for a few seconds.

Then, the man forced himself to stand up straight and took two steps outside. "Who exactly are you?"

“A freelancer.” Zhou Yi thought for a moment, then added, “I take on some company contracts on a regular basis.”

Although the man didn't believe it, he didn't dare to question it, for fear of angering him and getting shot in the head again.

He mumbled something, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

Zhou Yi had no desire to waste any more time with him and said directly, "I only have one question for you."

Who is Li Chengyi?

When the man heard the question again, he instinctively took a half step back and opened his mouth to answer.

“Stop lying to me, Mr. Li,” Zhou Yi added calmly. “The consequences are something you can’t afford.”

This time, the man's Adam's apple bobbed, and his gaze fell on the black pistol.

He swallowed nervously. "I...I know him."

"Who is he?"

"He is me—"

However, before he could finish speaking, a sudden screech of brakes came from the alley entrance.

A dilapidated pickup truck suddenly stopped in its tracks, its suspension creaking.

The car doors opened simultaneously, and three armed men jumped out, their movements practiced and their masks on.

One of them waved to them: "Let's go!"

Zhou Yi didn't move, but turned to look at the man beside her.

At this moment, he froze completely, as if he had been suddenly awakened from a dream, looking at everything in front of him in a daze.

"Don't move." The other person showed no intention of approaching, raising his rifle and aiming. "You two, get in the car."

"hurry up."

Zhou Yi smiled and said softly, "I've told you before that your bodyguard has a problem."

"You...you...can you kill them?" The man was about to faint.

"Here? Of course not." Zhou Yi shook his head and walked over cooperatively. "I'm not Superman."

The man looked embarrassed and hesitated for a long time before finally having no choice but to get into the pickup truck with him.

The rear seats are cramped, the backrests are torn, and half of the foam and springs are exposed.

The passenger only turned around after the engine started.

He stared at the man for a few seconds, then asked coldly, "Where is Namazzi?"

The man dared not utter a sound, sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Tell me,” the black man said, his tone hardening, “where are your bodyguards, Namazzi?”

"He...he..." The man felt an indescribable despair, unsure how to answer in order to avoid losing his life.

Zhou Yi leaned against the side, seemingly oblivious to everything, gazing at the night view outside the car window.

The vehicle turned a corner, and the shacks along the street rushed past.

Ahead, the Black man had completely lost his patience and snapped, "Are you deaf? Damn it, I'm asking you a question!"

After saying that, he pulled out a pistol and pressed it directly against the man's forehead.

The icy touch startled him, his mind went blank, and his vision blurred.

Driven to the limit by his fear of death, he disregarded everything else, closed his eyes, steeled his resolve, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "He's dead! He's dead! The LRA people killed him in the hotel!"

"What?" The black man was stunned for a moment, then flew into a rage.

"The LRA people are at the hotel, do you think they'll let you go?"

Before he finished speaking, Zhou Yi had already moved. Without warning, without a shout.

In the blink of an eye, as he leaned forward, a pistol appeared out of thin air.

He didn't fire at the passenger seat.

The first shot pierced the chest of the man on the left side of the back row without hesitation.

Blood spurted out, immediately emitting a strange whistling sound.

At the same time, the passenger in the front seat instinctively turned his head, but he was a beat too late.

Zhou Yi gripped the gun in reverse and slammed it into the opponent's temple with a powerful swing of his arm.

With a creaking sound from the brake pedal, the man suddenly went limp, his head slamming against the windshield before slowly sliding into the gap.

The driver suddenly turned around, leaning half his body over the back of the seat, trying to shorten the distance.

Zhou Yi's left shoulder sank, he shifted his body to the side, and at the same time raised his right hand, pulling the trigger with the muzzle of the gun close to the opponent's ribs.

The bullet tore through the lung and pierced the heart.

The driver paused, let out a weak breath, and then slumped back in his seat, motionless.

The thick stench of blood mixed with gunpowder smoke permeated the carriage, making it stuffy, heavy, and clinging to the skin.

In that deathly silence, the man felt a wet, hot sensation beneath his buttocks, as if he were sitting in blood.

He pulled back as far as he could, as if he wanted to wedge himself into the trunk.

Zhou Yi calmly put the pistol back into the system, pushed open the door and got out of the car, shaking his wrist.

He stood outside and ordered the man, "Come down and help me clean up."

The man remained seated, staring intently at the head lying askew on his lap.

The corpse's eyes were wide open, and its cloudy eyeballs were covered with blood vessels.

The strange sensation made him breathe rapidly, and he didn't hear what Zhou Yi said at all.

Seeing this, Zhou Yi sighed, bent down to open the door, and pulled out the corpses one by one.

The slippers slid across the ground, bloodstains trailed across the dirt road, and with a "plop," they were thrown into the ditch.

Only then did the man seem to suddenly come back to his senses, stumbling and tumbling off the back seat.

"How...how did they..." he stammered, "They're dead because of your gun."

Zhou Yi ignored him, grabbed the driver by the hair, and threw the body over.

After doing all that, he got into the driver's seat, started the engine, shifted gears, and stepped on the gas, and the engine roared to life.

"Get in the car," Zhou Yi said.

The man dared not say another word and climbed into the passenger seat with his head down.

After a long pause, he took two deep breaths, looked at Zhou Yi's profile, and finally spoke:

"I don't know why you know the name Li Chengyi."

"I don't know how important that is to you."

"But I actually know the answer to the question you just asked."

"I'm sorry for making excuses before. It wasn't that I was deliberately hiding it, but when you're out in public, you have to be careful."

"Anyway"

"Li Chengyi is my father."

At this point, Zhou Yi calmed down.

Just like a child who had already guessed that the gift box contained the toy they had been dreaming of, but suddenly calmed down at the moment before opening it.

He had too many questions.

About my mother, about her thoughts, about that sudden death.

Who is she?
Why did he suddenly disappear for several weeks during that period?

And why, on the morning of his return, did he choose to shoot himself?
Why are all those in the know keeping silent about this matter?
Where was the photo taken? Who are those three men? Is Li Chengyi in it?

Were their identities as he had guessed when he was young?
It's still more complicated.

(End of this chapter)