Loaded Up and Rolling, the Silent Convoy

Two cars were climbing one after the other on I-5 Highway in the early morning.

The one in front looks like a beat-up pickup truck that's been driven for twenty years, just a bit mini in size, like a child's version of a pickup truck.

The Guardian was very satisfied. "Mr. Zhou, this paint job is based on the number one unsold car on the North America used car market. I guarantee no robber will want it."

"Really..."

Sing Sing held the steering wheel with one hand and rubbed his lower back with the other.

Even a thief would leave you two hundred yuan so you can go to the doctor.

I glanced in the rearview mirror; the RV was swaying and following a few dozen meters away.

Silver Fox drove with an unusually steady hand. Sing Sing thought to himself that this woman probably had worked as a long-distance hitchhiker before she lost her memory, and might even have been a repeat offender.

"Mr. Zhou," the Guardian suddenly spoke, "We've detected severe damage to your right psoas major muscle. Would you like us to play the Great Compassion Mantra for you to cleanse your aching soul?"

"Wash your head, you big dummy! Playing this in the middle of the night, are you trying to kill me already? Cut it!"

Sing Sing immediately lost his temper and angrily cursed out.

"Okay, your local midnight radio station has been switched."

A passionate sales pitch blared from the radio:

Buy one get one free! Buy one get one free! Brand new, premium double burial plot package, nestled against the mountain and facing the water! Order now and receive a lifetime coffin polishing and waxing service! Limited spots available, first come, first served!

Change the channel.

"Lord... on this peaceful night, let us surrender our souls to God..."

Change it again.

"On a country road, a cowboy rides his horse for a spin."

"At this hour, United States radio stations are either selling cemetery plots or preaching; the only normal song they're playing sounds like a donkey braying."

Sing Sing simply turned off the radio. "Is there something wrong with your cultural industry here?"

White noise mode has been switched for you.

The Guardian thoughtfully said, "Also, a friendly reminder: your comment just now involved regional discrimination, and I've recorded it for your records."

Why did you save this?!

"Maintaining a complete chain of evidence is a fundamental principle of mine (◕‿◕)"

Sing Sing ignored it and stared blankly out the window.

The highway is flanked by Washington State coniferous forests, their branches forming two black walls that squeeze the sky into a narrow slit.

I adjusted the rearview mirror to make sure the RV was still following before turning my attention back to the front.

"What's going on here..."

Sing Sing muttered something to himself, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Two copies of the work injury determination form need to be filled out, and the martyr title needs to be approved by Director Wang. There's also compensation for emotional distress, nutritional expenses... not a penny less. Lao Wang's stingy temper, sigh..."

The Guardian suddenly interrupted:

"Your request has been recorded and synced to Director Wang's encrypted email address in the 749 Bureau. The email subject is 'If you don't give me money, I'll send Deadpool to your office to do a pole dance.'"

?

"No? Are you crazy? Did I tell you to post it? Take it back! Take it back right now!"

Sing Sing was so startled he almost stepped on the accelerator instead of the brake. "If Lao Wang sees this email, he'll deduct all my travel expenses for the rest of my life!"

"Sorry, Mr. Zhou, due to cross-border network delays, the withdrawal failed. Good luck!"

"Good luck my ass! And when did you get connected with the 749 Bureau's internal network? Who gave you that access?!"

"Trade secrets (¬‿¬)"

Sing Sing covered his face, feeling utterly hopeless.

This guy clearly did it on purpose; the Guardians definitely had some influence on it!

Feeling listless, Sing Sing decided to distract himself and reached out to press the channel on the car's walkie-talkie:

"Hey, hey, the car in front is calling the car behind, Dongyao is calling Dongguai, Dongyao is calling Dongguai. Is Little Fireworks still alive? Received, please breathe, over."

Three seconds later, Silver Fox's voice came through the walkie-talkie. "We're only a few dozen meters apart, do you really want to chat with me using this kind of spy movie channel from the last century?"

Li Qianhuan's furious roar came through the walkie-talkie:

(▼ plate▼#)

"You're the one who's dead! Your whole family is dead! What are you yelling about in the middle of the night?!"

"Oh my, Little Fireworks still has the energy to swear. Looks like you're recovering well. Piotr, how about you over there?"

Colossus's honest, unassuming voice rang out.

"Not bad, Illyana is stable, but Gambit just vomited blood. And that alien, he's almost suffocated by the smell of your socks."

"If he suffocates from the stench, consider it his bad luck... no, his bad luck! If he dares to spit out his socks, make him eat them!"

"Stephen, from a humanitarian perspective..."

"Why didn't he show any humanity when he was live-streaming the murder? We China have an old saying, 'Repay evil with kindness,' but how will you repay kindness? So we must use socks to fight maggots!"

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the walkie-talkie, then Li Qianhuan said quietly, "Now I finally understand why your socks can be used as biological weapons. It turns out there's a theoretical basis for it..."

Inside the RV, Silver Fox glanced around the interior to check on everyone's condition before turning his attention back to the front.

She appeared calm, but her mind was a complete mess.

That man, whose gossip was outrageous, argued heatedly with his boss on the phone, yet turned around and meticulously arranged the funeral arrangements for someone who had been dead for less than a few hours.

Used car dealer?

She didn't believe it.

But she wasn't in a hurry to expose him.

One advantage of having amnesia is that you don't remember anything anyway.

Having one more answer or one less answer makes no difference.

But that name...

Every time the word "Logan" flashes through my mind, my temples throb.

Snow-capped mountains, wooden cabins, fireplaces, and an old dog snoring at your feet.

The image shattered into pieces of glass, and no matter how hard she tried to piece it back together, she could never get it right.

Damn it!

Silver Fox cursed under his breath, suppressing his emotions and focusing on the road ahead.

If I can't remember, I'll stop thinking about it.

Anyway, that gossipy man definitely knows something. Once we get there, there are plenty of ways to make him spill it.

For example, pretend to believe his lies first, then take advantage of his moment to put a knife to his neck.

Plans are in place (￣ー￣)

Sing Sing inexplicably shivered as he looked at the car in front.

"Strange, I have a feeling someone is plotting against me behind my back..."

After the teasing, a rare quiet fell between the two cars.

This was a period of true peace after the bloody battle.

The dark shadows of the coniferous forest receded, one after another, as if there would never be an end.

Sing Sing gripped the steering wheel with one hand, his right shoulder blades throbbing again, and the dull pain in his lower back intensified with each passing wave.

If I can hold on for a few more hours, I can just lie down and relax once I get to Alpha Flight's base.

Then I'll have a good talk with everyone, persuade them to agree, and then we can go back to our happy hometown together!

He pulled out the cigarette he'd swiped, put it in his mouth, Sing Sing took a satisfying drag.

Just as he checked the distance to the RV in the rearview mirror for the third time, the Guardian's radar panel flashed.

Red dots popped out from the edge of the screen, one, two, rapidly approaching.

The Guardian's announcement shattered the tranquility.

"Warning! Warning! An abnormal high-speed moving signal source has been detected approaching from 5 kilometers behind!"

Sing Sing sat up straight, his brow furrowed. "What's going on? Who is it? Pursuers or a delivery person?"

"It's most likely your pursuers, Mr. Zhou. Would you like me to play the background music: See You Again?"

"See your grandpa!"

Sing Sing flicked the cigarette from his mouth, sending ash sprinkling onto his crotch.

He slammed on the walkie-talkie to the RV and yelled, "Silver Fox! A mad dog is attacking us from behind!"

At the same time, Sing Sing looked up at the rearview mirror.

In the dim light of the horizon, at the far end of the road, a strangely familiar purplish-black mist rolled in, sweeping towards the convoy.