Er Mao stumbled over to a streetlamp and looked around before realizing that he was less than three hundred meters from the hotel.
This was a patch of wasteland—actually, it had been bought but not yet developed. Er Mao knew that very well.
If someone wanted to hold a private trial here or do something shady, hardly anyone would notice.
He checked the time. It was only one in the morning. He called one of his trusted underlings and told him to go to his room and bring over some clothes.
When you were out in society, sometimes appearances did not matter. But looking like he had been brutally beaten was obviously not something he could let others see.
The underling arrived quickly. For a distance of less than three hundred meters, he had actually driven over in a van. He was quite thoughtful.
But when he saw Er Mao's condition, he froze. "Brother Mao, what happened?"
"Go, go." Er Mao waved him off without explaining. After getting dressed, he gulped down several mouthfuls of hot water, then sat in the vehicle in a daze.
After a while, he turned to look at the underling and asked in a low voice, "Did anyone see me leave?"
"Not that I heard of." The underling shook his head, looking bewildered. "I thought you were in your room."
Er Mao drank a few more mouthfuls of water and felt much more normal. He jerked his chin up. "Back to the hotel. Damn it..."
He wanted to see who had sold him out and gotten him carried into the wilderness while he slept.
He did not dare challenge Red Sister, but if someone on his own side was betraying him, he had to clean house no matter what.
After arriving at the hotel, Er