Tracking

The next morning, after a three-hour drive, Mo Qiong arrived in Weifang.

He traveled light, carrying only his phone, ID, and GPS, along with three ballpoint pens.

Yes, ballpoint pens...

He wished he could bring his bow and arrows, but he couldn't take them on the train. His arrowheads were genuinely capable of hunting.

Mo Qiong couldn't be bothered to dismantle his arrows, and for self-defense, three ballpoint pens were more than enough.

To him, three pens used skillfully were no different from three throwing knives.

In fact, he didn't expect to confront Zhao Mingjun directly. Once he knew where the man was hiding, he'd just call the police.

When the man was caught, the fifty thousand yuan would be his, nice and easy.

"Alright, time to confirm his location again."

After getting off the train, Mo Qiong didn't rush to the GPS's last known location. He avoided the crowded areas.

After looking around, he headed straight for a nearby supermarket, buying a pack of gum, a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter.

"The search area has narrowed down considerably. I can just use anything to pinpoint his location now."

Standing in an unobserved spot, he took out a piece of gum and chewed it while casually tossing the wrapper.

The wrapper floated in the air, moving extremely slowly in one direction.

Once he confirmed the direction, he reached out, retrieved the wrapper, and put it in his pocket.

After refusing all the touts offering rides, he walked two blocks before finding a shared bicycle.

He unlocked a bike and pedaled furiously towards his target.

Along the way, he kept tossing the wrapper out to reconfirm Zhao Mingjun's direction.

Step by step, Mo Qiong left the city and was sweating profusely on the road leading to the county town.

"As expected, I knew he'd run again."

Mo Qiong sighed, took a taxi back to the train station, went into the ticket hall, and joined the queue to buy a ticket.

He estimated that Zhao Mingjun, upon discovering the GPS someone had thrown at him last night, must have been terrified, thinking he was being targeted, and had hastily moved his hiding spot, but wouldn't dare take a train.

Therefore, even if he had escaped the city, he must have used other means of transportation, and his speed might not be that fast.

This meant he should still be in a nearby county, not yet having left Weifang's jurisdiction.

"Based on this direction, Chang Le and Lin Qu are both possibilities."

"I'll head to Chang Le first and see."

Mo Qiong quickly bought his ticket and boarded the train after waiting for about ten minutes.

"I can only do this step-by-step."

"I can't alert him again by using the GPS. Once he's caught and interrogated by the police, he'll definitely confess about this."

Although using the flying wrapper to pinpoint his direction step-by-step was very inefficient and far less convenient than GPS, Mo Qiong couldn't use the same method again after Zhao Mingjun's suspected discovery of the GPS last night.

Being hit in the face by a GPS thrown by an unknown person was a one-time occurrence. Any more would be highly suspicious, directly confirming that someone had been tracking him since last night.

If it happened only once, Mo Qiong could report him later, and Zhao Mingjun could simply deny it, as he had an absolute alibi: when he was hit by the GPS, Mo Qiong was in his dorm at Yan Da.

If it wasn't him, the police wouldn't pay much attention and would consider the GPS incident last night a mere coincidence, perhaps thrown by someone nearby at random, accidentally hitting Zhao Mingjun. Zhao Mingjun's panicked flight would then be attributed to a guilty conscience and paranoia.

Conversely, if Mo Qiong repeatedly used GPS to hit Zhao Mingjun and then reported him to the police after finding him, the police, combining this with Zhao Mingjun's testimony, would conclude that Mo Qiong was the one who threw the GPS last night.

But the problem was, Mo Qiong was in his dorm last night... If the police noticed this detail, they would wonder how Mo Qiong, being in Dengzhou, could have hit Zhao Mingjun in Weifang.

So Mo Qiong had no choice. He absolutely could not admit to throwing the GPS; he had to downplay its significance.

"Ha, what a troublesome guy..."

After half an hour on the train, Mo Qiong got off at Chang Le train station.

He continued to use the flying wrapper to pinpoint the direction and then rode his bike to pursue.

He didn't believe Zhao Mingjun would keep running forever; he would eventually stop. Mo Qiong figured Zhao Mingjun would also realize he was being overly sensitive last night and, upon realizing no one was chasing him, would find a place to rest.

Fifty thousand yuan wasn't easy money. After another half-hour of cycling, Mo Qiong arrived at a residential complex.

The security here was almost nonexistent, and even the surveillance cameras were rusty...

The gatekeeper didn't even look at him. Mo Qiong strolled in boldly.

With no one around, he parked his bike and walked, chewing gum, with a piece of gum wrapper floating ahead of him, guiding his way.

At this moment, the wrapper seemed like a Vivre Card from One Piece, closely linked to Zhao Mingjun's location, swaying and persistently chasing him.

Seeing the wrapper suddenly rise and float towards an upper floor of a building, he casually reached out and caught it, tucking it away.

"Confirmed. He's in this building."

As for which floor... Mo Qiong took out the pack of cigarettes he'd just bought, lit one, took a deep drag, and exhaled the smoke.

He didn't smoke; he was using the cigarette as an arrow, spitting it towards Zhao Mingjun.

The smoke drifted upward at a steady pace, continuing all the way to the fourth floor without dissipating.

The smoke seeped through the gaps in the window and floated directly into the room.

"401, huh..."

Mo Qiong nodded. Walking downstairs, he saw a security door and directly pressed the button for 401.

However, the doorbell rang for a long time with no response, as if no one was home.

"Heh..."

Zhao Mingjun had been on the run for three years. For three years, he had lived under an assumed name, leading a vagrant life.

Because his ID couldn't be used, he couldn't find any work and could only resort to petty theft. When that didn't work out, he'd resort to armed robbery and then move to another city.

After three years of drifting, he arrived in Qilu Province.

With money, finding a place to stay was easy. At first, he couldn't find anywhere that didn't ask for an ID, so he slept in parks.

Later, during the harsh winter months with terrible weather, he gradually became bolder as the police failed to catch him. He started to get acquainted with some local hoodlums.

With these so-called friends, he was able to secure a place to live by paying some rent.

However, because he was wanted for major crimes, as soon as he committed any minor offense in a city, he would immediately flee.

He would also cut ties with any new acquaintances and start over.

Unlike those thugs, getting caught for a minor offense would only result in a few days of detention, which was nothing.

If he were caught for something else, all his past crimes would immediately come to light.

With seven lives on his hands, being caught for theft, robbery, or even a brawl would make him wish for death.

Because he was constantly committing crimes during his escape and lacked a stable living environment, his vigilance remained high. If anything seemed amiss, he would immediately move.

Last night, he was sleeping in a friend's house, lying on the bed watching TV.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of glass shattering, followed by something hitting his face, causing a bruise.

Startled, he jumped out of bed and went to the window to look outside.

But no matter how much he looked left and right, he couldn't see anyone.

Being cautious, he put on his clothes and ran out of the house first, hiding in the shadows. He waited for a long time, but there was no sign of movement. It seemed like someone had just smashed his window.

Since he was staying in a thug's house, he wasn't surprised by someone smashing his window.

After an hour with no activity, he felt safe enough to return to the room.

Seeing the sponge ball on the ground, he found it strange: Who would use this to smash someone's window? And why did it hurt so much?

He tore it open and was horrified.

Hidden inside the sponge ball was a GPS, and it was active, currently locating.

This scared him badly. What was this for? Why was it locating this place? And who did it?

He didn't think it was targeting him personally, assuming the original owner of the house had angered someone. However, he couldn't fathom what this device was for.

Wanting to avoid any trouble, he crushed the GPS and packed his things that very night, then slipped away.

He walked all night, planning to walk to Qingzhou.

Since he wasn't in a hurry, he walked intermittently, sticking to smaller roads. By the time dawn broke the next day, he had only reached CL County.

He hadn't slept all night and had walked for hours, making him extremely tired.

In his exhaustion, he wondered if he was being too sensitive. If they wanted to catch him, what was the point of leaving a GPS?

Besides, he had waited for an hour and no one showed up. Perhaps he was overthinking it. Maybe someone on the opposite floor had too much money and was just randomly throwing a GPS, which happened to land in his room and hit him in the face.

The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became. He was already living a life of constant anxiety, and now some random person was disturbing his peace. He couldn't help but feel indignant.

Hungry and tired, with no money on him, fueled by this surge of anger, he decided to commit a crime.

Since he was going to change cities anyway, getting some money before leaving had become his routine over the past few years.

He casually picked a rundown residential area and swaggered in.

He wandered around the buildings, and whenever someone came out, he would casually follow them into the building.

After observing the floors for a while, he chose 401. From the look of the door, this unit seemed to be the wealthiest, and by listening at the door, he could hear someone inside.

Yes, he specifically looked for occupied units because he couldn't get into empty ones...

He rang the doorbell. Seeing the door open just a crack, he immediately shoved it open and squeezed inside.

He closed the door with one hand and pulled out a knife from his pocket with the other.

He was wearing a mask, and calmly said, "Robbery."

There were two people in the room, a young man and a young woman. The woman opened the door and was knocked to the ground by his forceful entry.

The man came out and saw the situation. Perhaps it was because Zhao Mingjun's tone was too calm, he pointed at him and shouted, "Are you f***ing looking for death?"

"Pfft!" Zhao Mingjun flicked his wrist, and a knife sliced off one of the man's fingers.

The sheer ferocity of it immediately stunned the two people inside.

Although Zhao Mingjun fled in terror, it was to save his own life; he didn't care about the lives of others.

The reason no lives were taken in the past three years was mainly due to the increased police response to robberies and murders. He could get away with the money from a robbery, but killing someone meant he might not be able to escape the city.

So, when he committed crimes, he still wore a mask. This was also to prevent a robbery from escalating into murder. Otherwise, if the victim of his robbery described his appearance to the police, they might realize he was a wanted man, leading to extreme scrutiny.

Over the years, he had committed many robberies and knew exactly how to control the situation.

Holding a knife and menacingly threatening someone was far less effective than just going for a stab right away. You didn't need to do much, just draw blood.

With the former, the victim might outwardly comply but inwardly plot a counterattack or struggle.

With the latter, after being cut, the victim would immediately cower, guarantee cooperation, and wouldn't dare to resist.

As expected, the man whose finger had been cut was trembling, clutching his hand, tears and snot streaming down his face. But he didn't dare to cry out too loudly, fearing he'd be silenced, only managing suppressed whimpers.

"Quick! Go get the money! What are you crying for, you silly woman, hurry up!" the man whimpered, growling at the woman.

The woman was also crying from fear. She had been knocked down and couldn't get up.

Just then, a puff of smoke suddenly billowed out of the room and sprayed directly into Zhao Mingjun's face.

"Cough... spit!" Zhao Mingjun waved his hand, and the smoke dispersed.

"Someone's inside?" Zhao Mingjun's eyes turned cold.

"Huh?" The couple was also confused.

Zhao Mingjun herded them into the room and went in to check himself, but found no one inside. Even the windows were securely shut.

As he was wondering about this, the doorbell rang at the entrance.

p.s: Sorry.