The driver was emotionally shattered.
He snapped back to reality and raised a gun at John.
Bang—
The number of bodies became six.
The roar of the motorcycle continued to echo.
"Manager, there's no sound anymore."
"Who the hell is that guy?"
The assistant reported with shaky nerves.
"I don't fucking know either!"
Kafei tousled his hair into a mess, took off his glasses, and kept pounding the back seat.
He was trying to guess John's identity.
A colleague playing tricks, a superior drawing a line, a corpse collector from management...
The motorcycle's high beams swept past the window.
"Ah—"
Kafei screamed, clutching his head and curling up.
John ignored the coupé and instead swept closely past the SUV loaded with bodyguards.
The submachine gun spewed blue flames in the night.
Bodies hung from the window.
He slowed down, dropped back to the rear, then came up from the other side, reloading the submachine gun during the process.
Ratatatat—
