In the blink of an eye, a shadow had already plunged into the bushes. Schiller grabbed Strange and rushed back through the rear door, crossed the chaotic bar, reached the other side of the counter, and burst out through the door the shadow had come through.
"Did you drive here?" Schiller asked.
Strange staggered along, gasping for breath. He shook his head and said, "No, I took the bus."
"Good. So did I. Find a car."
Schiller looked around and found one parked by the roadside—a rather nice one, too. He turned back, grabbed a chair from the chaotic bar, ran to the car, smashed the window with two loud blows, opened the door, and got in.
"You don't have the keys," Strange said as he climbed into the car. "I don't know how to hotwire one!"
Schiller suddenly pulled out a key from his pocket. Strange turned to look at him, and in that instant, the engine had already started. Schiller floored the gas, and the car shot forward.
"You planned this!" Strange gritted out.
"That's right. This is Alex's car. Why do you think he suddenly came looking for trouble with me?"
"You planned this that far ahead?!"
Schiller smiled and shifted his gaze to the rearview mirror. Just as expected, a black car and a gray car came swaying after them.
Strange twisted around to look back, then glared at Schiller. "What kind of trouble did you get yourself into? I saw someone holding a rifle!"
"I told you, I killed someone. The boss of their territory. He also happened to be in charge of an important project recently."
"Why did you kill him?!"
"Would you believe me if I said I was getting rid of a menace for the public?"
"Then he should have killed you!"