Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 286 Never Forget Anger

In the suburbs, at midnight.

The moon hung low in the sky, shrouded in thin clouds.

The wind was strong on the platform, and the end of the railway tracks was indistinct.

Zhou Yi was rolling a cigarette.

It's a very old-fashioned method: the paper is folded neatly, and with a flick of the thumb, the match is lit.

"So, you're going to Hong Kong?"

The next second, Cattel's voice rang out from behind.

“The next flight is the day after tomorrow night,” Morrison replied, his hands in his trench coat pockets.

He didn't look at her, but instead gazed at the disused ticket booth in the distance.

"If the journey goes smoothly, they will be able to get the documents in about ten hours."

"Of course, this is on the premise that customs is not completely under surveillance."

"Do you think they can react that quickly?" Katelyl asked.

“Of course,” Morrison shrugged. “Mixed-race, stationed abroad, and with close ties to Asia.”

"These labels combined are enough to convict me of enough to get me hanged."

"I don't care about anything else," he sighed helplessly.

"It's just a pity about this identity; it's quite useful."

"Then why did you still choose it?" Cattel asked, puzzled.

Morrison did not answer immediately.

He pondered for a moment before turning his head to look in Zhou Yi's direction.

“What John found some time ago was not just combat intelligence.”

"There's more: data, models, formulas, and even unfinished drafts."

"This is too important; it covers the entire cognitive system, regardless of who it is."

As soon as he finished speaking, a faint rumbling sound came from afar—the sound of wheels rolling onto the tracks.

A few seconds later, the colossal object emerged from the mist, its white light piercing the darkness.

The train stopped without sounding the whistle.

The wind picked up, and the cloth strips on the flagpole were blown straight.

Zhou Yi took one last deep breath and casually stubbed out his cigarette.

As the sparks dissipated, he nodded to the two people beside him and left without looking back.

A faint light shone down in front of me, casting an extremely long shadow.

Cattel took a half-step forward instinctively, as if she wanted to say something.

But those words remained stuck in his throat.

The ticket inspector didn't say a word, and after quickly checking the ID and voucher, stepped aside.

Immediately afterwards, the train started again, and the rails vibrated.

When Ketterle looked up, all he could see was the blurry glass and overlapping light and shadow.

She knew which carriage John was in, but she couldn't quite place which figure was actually him.

A few wisps of steam shot out, and the train suddenly accelerated.

A chill was in the air, and the moon was obscured by drifting clouds.

At the end of the platform, the light quickly receded into the distance, disappearing completely into darkness.

Morrison took out a lighter to light his cigarette, but his hand was trembling and he couldn't light it several times.

He shook his head and put the item back.

"Is he going to Poznan?"

Although it was a question, Cattelyl's tone was quite certain.

“Yes,” Morrison said. “Outside the city, they said they were looking for a suitable lake.”

Katelyl's hair was blown into a mess.

"Will that be dangerous?"

She raised her hand to brush away the stray hairs from her forehead, her face revealing a barely perceptible tension.

“Him?” Morrison laughed. “Believe me, he is the danger.”

"In just a few weeks, the world will undergo tremendous changes."

"I just don't know if you and I will be lucky enough to witness that scene in person."

His voice trailed off.

The two looked at each other, speechless for a long time.

In the end, it was Cattel who spoke first.

"Thank you," she said.

"no need thank me?"

"Thank you for telling me there are still resistance fighters in Saratov." "Thank you for helping me contact them."

"Now, all I have to do is head east."

Morrison nodded, as if confirming something.

"Perhaps you're better suited for that place."

"At least, you're a better shot than me."

"At the Schwarzenwald Hotel, I aimed for ages, ha, and hit nothing."

Upon hearing this, Katelyl smiled.

“I went hunting when I was a child,” she said, “with my father.”

“Back then, we lived in a village. Two kilometers to the east was a forest, and beyond that was a wetland.”

“My father didn’t approve of people handling guns; he was a conservative pastor.”

"But winter is too cold, and everything is lacking; fat is far more important than scripture."

Katelyl winked at Morrison.

"Actually, like him, I don't like hunting either."

"The injured animals looked at you with their round, beautiful, moist eyes."

"They struggle, you have to finish them off, finish them off quickly, so that they suffer less."

"I thought that was all I could accept, helping a few wild deer escape their suffering."

Kate Lylton paused, seemingly weighing whether to continue.

Perhaps her grief needed to be released, or perhaps the long silence had created a delusion within her.

A sudden impulse rose within her, urging her to continue.

So, Cattelyl followed her instincts.

“Until that day, in Vasskburg,” she said slowly.

“John stood in front of me, and Weissman died at his feet like a beast.”

"That's...that's a completely different feeling."

"It's a feeling I'll never forget in my life."

"Tense, calm, excited, and thrilled – a mix of emotions."

As soon as she finished speaking, Ketterle lowered her eyes, her expression darkening.

"And that night, I dreamed of my father for the first time."

"Ten years after his death."

"Ten years, ten years."

"It took me a full ten years to take that step."

Katelyl stopped talking.

She tried hard to regulate her breathing and desperately restrain her emotions.

But tears still fell.

One drop, two drops.

Soon, it became two or three lines, flowing quietly down her face.

"Before that, I watched those people die right before my eyes."

"Those people, their blood stained the stone steps."

"The blood of my compatriots flows in their veins, the same blood that flows in my veins."

"I am a cowardly daughter, I am a cowardly daughter."

"I am guilty, I am guilty"

"It should have been done long ago, it should have been done long ago."

At this moment, Cattel was already sobbing uncontrollably, covering her face, her shoulders trembling uncontrollably.

"And my father."

“My father is standing there, standing in my dreams.”

"He had no expression and didn't speak."

"Because I don't know what he'll say."

Will he resent me? Will he miss me? Will he still love me? Am I a good daughter? Did I avenge him? Did I avenge them? Can I really avenge them?

In the end, it was almost completely out of tune.

Morrison sighed and reached out to press down on Katelyl's shoulder.

The wind gradually stopped.

The clouds parted, revealing the bright moon.

“Fight back,” he said solemnly. “Never forget anger.”

Never forget anger.

(End of this chapter)