1992, London. Those two words together gave Zhang Xiao the surreal feeling that he was dreaming.
He now knew why these people were marching.
Because in 1992, the pound had crashed, and George Soros had made his name in a single battle.
And that world-shaking bombshell had gone off in September!
There were still more than ten days before the actual crash, but just as ducks were the first to sense the warming spring waters, the people at the bottom were always the first to feel changes in Britain's economy.
And resentment of the rich often ran deep among those at the bottom. All it took was one person in the procession doing something irrational.
That person would be like a bowl of water poured into an already boiling pan of oil, making it erupt in an instant!
Until it finally became... a riot stripped of all reason!
No wonder they had run into a protest march. No wonder the protesters were attacking cars so crazily.
In the brief moment it took him to push open the car door, Zhang Xiao's lightning-fast thoughts had already pieced together the broad outline.
He turned sideways to dodge a stick swinging down at his head. It should have been a wooden pole for holding up a placard, but now it had become a weapon.
The middle-aged white attacker's savage expression turned to stunned disbelief, as though he had never imagined anyone could dodge that blow.
"In a chaotic fight, never waste your strength. Remember to turn the situation to your advantage and conserve as much energy as possible."
His father's calm voice reached his ears.
Zhang Xiao pressed his lips together. Following the man's forward momentum, he gave his calf a light kick, turned with the movement, and pushed him in the back.