Chapter 17: Kidnapping - Urban Sword Legend

Chapter 17 - Kidnapping

Within three feet, the Glazed Heart's ability to sense everything in minute detail suddenly reacted. Li Bai instinctively reached back and caught something. When he came to his senses, he realized he had caught a tennis ball.

Beside the road was an outdoor sports area for the community. The two tennis courts closest to Li Bai stood side by side. On one of them, two young women with gorgeous curves wore athletic shorts and short-sleeved T-shirts.

One of them, a girl with an oval face and a long ponytail, waved at him repeatedly and called out, "Sorry! Could you throw it back to us?"

The other young woman, whose hair was cut to her ears, wore an equally apologetic smile.

The two had been rallying back and forth on the court, each trying to smash the ball. They'd misjudged a shot, sending the tennis ball flying over the divider. It had nearly hit Li Bai on the head.

What rotten luck!

Li Bai shook his head and tossed the ball back.

"Thanks!"

The two young women thanked him in unison, then broke into laughter as clear as silver bells.

Someone else might have taken the opportunity to go over and strike up a conversation, but Li Bai had absolutely no interest in rich, beautiful women like these.

What could a monthly salary of 3,800 yuan get you?

Enough for a girl to buy two tiny jars of La Mer.

When La Mer came sold by the pound, then he'd go after these rich beauties!

Li Bai shook his head and left the community of mansions in XC District, Zijing Villa in West City.

On his way to the bus stop, three cars suddenly cut in from behind and entered the bike lane. A Jinbei van and a Santana 2000 drove onto the sidewalk, blocking Li Bai from the front and back. A container truck following close behind also barged into the bike lane, forming a triangle that trapped him and several pedestrians in the middle.

Without warning, the pedestrians all lunged at Li Bai. They pulled a large black plastic bag over his head and shoved him into the Jinbei van.

In no more than four or five seconds, the Jinbei van and Santana 2000 split up at the next intersection, each going a different way.

The container truck, which had illegally entered the bike lane, turned right leisurely at the intersection, leaving the cyclists and electric-bike riders behind to shout after it. It seemed entirely unconcerned about being fined or having points deducted from its license.

Fifteen minutes later, the Jinbei van briefly met up with a small box truck in an unremarkable alley. When it emerged at the far end, only the driver remained inside.

Li Bai, bound hand and foot, was dragged from the van and hauled a long way before being shoved hard to the ground. Only then did they stop.

They'd spent more than four hours on the trip, switching vehicles at least a dozen times. They'd gone to all that trouble to avoid the public security cameras and leave the police with no way to track them down.

Clearly, this wasn't their first kidnapping. They were experienced—and highly professional.

A hand reached over and roughly yanked the black cloth bag off his head. Squinting slightly, Li Bai took in his surroundings.

He found himself in a huge warehouse surrounded by towering, multi-level racks, their shelves filled with gleaming merchandise: brand-new luxury sports cars.

Maserati, Bugatti, Ferrari, Lamborghini, Rolls-Royce, Bentley—the world's most famous cars were all here, as if he'd stumbled into a top-tier auto show.

More than a dozen burly men with crooked brows and shifty eyes regarded him with ill intent.

They had a menacing air about them, and none of them looked like good people. Li Bai asked nonchalantly, "Where is this? Who are you?"

"Heh. Don't worry about where you are or who we are. Worry about yourself. Since you're here, enjoy what little time you have left. Don't bother shouting or trying to escape. You'll only die faster."

A man with his upper body bare and a Night Parade of a Hundred Demons tattoo on his chest drew a pistol from behind his back and gestured at Li Bai with its muzzle.

"You brought me here on Boss Yao's orders, didn't you?"

It was a classic bait-and-switch: let him go first to clear their name, then capture him and bring him here. In the end, they still weren't willing to let him go. Yao Bing's father was clearly no ordinary man.

Li Bai looked around and smiled, then calmly continued, "If I'm not mistaken, these cars are all smuggled!"

Most of the cars in the warehouse were foreign luxury models. If this were a legitimate business, there would be no need for these armed desperados. There was only one possibility: this was a smuggled-car warehouse owned by the Yao Family.

The man with the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons tattoo froze. The others' expressions changed in unison. He gave a vicious grin and said, "Didn't think you were so smart. Looks like we can't let you live."

Li Bai knew he'd guessed right.

A horse needed night fodder to thrive, and people needed windfalls to get rich.

No businessman was honest. Yao Bing's father's Dongling Auto Company clearly didn't just stick to respectable business on the surface. He also had some shady dealings on the side.

"Keep still, you son of a bitch. If you want to die quicker, just say so!"

A shout came from far away as the warehouse's huge doors were pulled open a crack. Two men wearing black hoods and bound like Li Bai were shoved inside. The person who'd pushed them turned to the man with the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons tattoo and said, "King, we caught two rats. The boss says to take care of them along with the others."

"Rats? Didn't expect things to get this lively today. What a rare treat!"

The man with the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons tattoo, whom they called the King, looked away from Li Bai and leisurely examined the two men dragged in front of him.

Their hoods were pulled off. One was a middle-aged man with a bulging belly, his face full of terror as he trembled all over. The other was a young, square-faced man who said nothing, staring fixedly at the man with the tattoo.

"I won't do it again! I swear I won't! Spare me! I'll give you however much money you want. Just name the price! Please, let me go!"

The portly man could barely get his words out, his voice full of pleading.

Seeing how weak and terrified he was, the others in the warehouse laughed maliciously.

"Boss Cui, you could've just run your business. Why did you have to oppose us?"

The man with the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons tattoo bent down and patted the portly man's cheek. He clearly knew him. The other man's face went deathly pale, and he slumped to the ground like a puddle of mud.

Then he turned to the square-faced man beside him and sneered. "Well, well. Playing undercover? I'm so scared. Heh. I've killed at least eight or ten informants and undercover cops. You walked right into my hands, so that's your bad luck. I'll make sure you die in the line of duty."

"Bullshit! No one can escape the punishment of the law. My colleagues will find this place soon. None of you are getting away!"

The square-faced man glared at the man with the tattoo, showing no fear. Then he turned to Boss Cui, who was so terrified he was on the verge of breaking down, and said, "I'm sorry, Boss Cui. I wasn't careful enough, and I dragged you into this."

"What good does saying that do now?!"

The portly Boss Cui had already lost hope and was crying like a child. If he'd known this would happen, he never would have agreed to help the police secretly investigate the Yao Family's smuggled luxury cars.

They'd found the evidence, sure, but now he was about to lose his life. What the hell good were those clues and evidence now?

Marx had said in Das Kapital: "With 50 percent profit, capital will take any risk. With 100 percent profit, it will trample all human laws. With 300 percent profit, it will commit any crime, even at the risk of the gallows."

Once they evaded customs duties, consumption taxes, import VAT, and retail VAT, then added their retail profits, the smugglers stood to gain enough to risk their lives and flout the law.

The landline near the warehouse doors rang. After answering it, someone shouted to the man with the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons tattoo, "The boss is on the phone. He says he can't make it over and wants us to clean things up ourselves."

The entire warehouse district was shielded from communication signals by a jammer. Only wired landlines could get through; mobile phones and other wireless devices had no signal at all.

"Got it!"

The man with the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons tattoo turned to Li Bai and clasped his hands, cracking his knuckles. With a savage grin, he said, "The boss was going to come take care of you himself, but now we can have some fun."

Kidnapping

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