Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 99 Against the Heavens
3pm.

The little cafe with a terrace on the street corner was deserted, with hardly any customers.

Behind the bar, two female servers were chatting.

"He's here again; this is the third day," the older man said.

"Which one?"

“Over there,” she said, gesturing with her chin toward the window. “It doesn’t look like it’s from our area.”

"What? You know everyone in the entire port?" the young girl teased casually.

"Even if not, that's pretty close. Speaking of which, what do you think he does? A doctor? A teacher? Neither seems like it."

"Maybe he's a government official transferred from somewhere."

"Would an official stay in a place like this for three days?"

The young girl didn't say anything, but drew circles on the edge of the table with her finger.

Her skin was fair, and her chestnut hair was tied back, giving it a warm glow under the light.

“Didn’t you say last time,” the older man suddenly spoke up, “that you wanted to find a man who doesn’t drink, doesn’t fight, and can make money? I think he’s quite suitable.”

"Look, his car is still parked on the side of the road."

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Couldn't you at least ask him his name?" The older man smiled meaningfully. "When you bring him coffee later, I'll switch with you, you go."

"Stop causing me trouble."

"I'm telling you, these days, there aren't many people who are even remotely decent. He doesn't seem like a bad person either."

"how do you know?"

“Look at his hands. Clean, with neatly trimmed nails, unlike those vodka-drinking bastards downstairs.”

The young girl didn't say anything, but her ears slowly turned red.

“If you’re shy, then forget it,” the older woman said, tugging at her apron. “But if that person doesn’t come tomorrow, don’t regret it.”

Upon hearing this, the young girl hesitated for a moment, then tore a page from the back of her notebook and wrote a few words with a pen.

"I must be crazy," she muttered.

"What's wrong with being a little crazy? Even being a little crazy is better than being stuck with an alcoholic."

The girl didn't say anything more. After writing down the address, she folded the paper in half, took a deep breath, and walked towards the table by the window.

"Hello--"

Zhou Yi turned her head in bewilderment and closed the magazine in her hand.

The girl stood in front of the table, looking nervous, clutching something in her hand.

"I...uh..." she struggled to find the right words and said softly, "This isn't something a waiter should do, but I thought, perhaps you wouldn't mind?"

Zhou Yi's gaze swept across the street corner without making a sound.

The light gray Volvo was still parked there, and Yevgeny and the short-haired woman were still upstairs.

I don't know what I'm doing.

They haven't come out for so long.

Seeing that Zhou Yi didn't say anything, the girl thought she had been abrupt and shouldn't have disturbed the guest, so she whispered, "I'm sorry to bother you."

Just as she was about to turn and leave, Zhou Yi came to his senses, smiled at her, and said gently, "I don't mind."

He raised his hand, gesturing for her not to leave. "Is what you're holding for me?"

The girl paused for a moment, her face turning red to her ears, and handed over the paper: "This is my home phone number and address."

After she finished speaking, she lowered her gaze and her voice became even softer.

"My mom...she's seen you sitting here a lot these past few days, so she said, how about we invite you over for some tea sometime?"

"Of course, you don't have to agree now." The girl bit her lip, mustering her last bit of courage to add, "It's just that if you have time sometime..."

Zhou Yi looked down at the paper.

There are two lines of text written in pen above.

He smiled and put the note into his coat pocket.

"What's your name?"

“Vera,” the girl answered softly. “Thank you, Vera.” Zhou Yi nodded. “Your mother must be a very good person.”

The girl smiled a little shyly, then couldn't help but ask, "So... do you know how to make a phone call?"

"I don't use the phone often, but I'll remember this address."

Vera lowered her head and said, "Then I'll go get busy," before quickly turning back to the counter.

Halfway there, he couldn't help but turn back to look at Zhou Yi again—his gaze had returned to the window.

The sun was shining brightly, and the gray Volvo was still parked there.

Time to get to work.

After confirming that there were no extra eyes on the street, Zhou Yi walked out of the coffee shop's porch, turned the corner along the sidewalk, and entered the old residential building.

The interior walls of the stairwell were peeling, and grayish-white water stains and undried shoe prints remained on the steps.

On the third floor, in the westernmost unit, there was a torn corner of a newspaper pasted on the door, and a clothesline was stuck in the iron pipe above it.

It is the kind of tenant unit that is unoccupied but occasionally used.

Zhou Yi approached quietly, without making a move.

At first, I heard a slight creaking sound.

Then came intermittent gasps for breath.

The rhythm was extremely slow, occasionally accompanied by the sound of friction from the bed frame.

Zhou Yi froze on the spot.

Damn it, I thought you guys were doing intelligence trading.

They ended up in bed together.

Which country's institutions train like this on a regular basis?

Zhou Yi sighed and took out a flat tension wrench and a thin B-shaped pry bar from his pocket.

He half-squatted down, inserted the wrench into the torque zone, and gently applied force with two fingers to maintain stable tension.

Then, they began to check each location one by one using a pry bar.

Five seconds.

Click.

The lock cylinder rotates.

Zhou Yi put away his tools, put on his mask, and then pulled out a pistol from his waist, cocking it.

A warm wisp of air wafted from the room, carrying perfume, alcohol, and—an unmistakable groan.

Zhou Yi pushed the door open a few inches, the muzzle of his gun slightly protruding forward, and entered the room close to the edge.

The living room was a mess, with cigarette packs, newspapers, and unwashed plates scattered on the carpet, and food scraps piled up.

He approached the wall in a low posture and moved to the front of the half-open bedroom.

Through the gap, one could vaguely see the back of a short-haired woman, her head slightly tilted back.

Seeing this, Zhou Yi did not hesitate any longer.

He slipped inside, gun raised high, and warned in a deep voice, "Get down, hands behind your backs."

The atmosphere inside the room suddenly froze.

Everything seemed to stop in an instant.

The short-haired woman turned around abruptly, while Yevgeny, who was beneath her, instinctively rolled over to his right and reached under the bedside table.

At the same time, the woman moved, extremely quickly, and grabbed a folding knife that she had pulled out from somewhere.

Zhou Yi shifted his position, closing in three steps, and swung the butt of his gun horizontally, smashing it onto her cheekbone.

With a muffled thud, the woman's head tilted to the side, and she stumbled against the edge of the bed, nearly falling off.

Before she could fall to the ground, Zhou Yi had already stepped forward, grabbed her shoulders, pressed his knee against her waist, and held the gun close to her temple.

Just then, Yevgeny had barely managed to draw his pistol, and before he could even cock it, he saw that the woman had already been firmly restrained by the masked man.

"Put the gun down." Zhou Yi's voice was icy. "Don't force me to say it a second time."

Yevgeny's fingers trembled slightly, and a look of resentment flashed in his eyes. In the end, he gritted his teeth and threw the pistol to the other side of the floor.

(End of this chapter)