"Thank you, Mr. Yang! Thank you, Mr. Yang!"
Liu San bowed repeatedly, his seat belt digging into him and making him cough twice.
"Don't thank me."
Yang Yong said, "This isn't a free ride. I'll have a use for you later."
Liu San nodded vigorously. "You will, you definitely will!"
"I know the roads, I can work, and I can also..."
"Miss Long, your gun looks so cool!"
Long Ya rolled her eyes at him.
The Demoness Pickup Truck rolled forward along the rutted dirt road.
The sky hung gray and heavy overhead, like a piece of old cotton cloth soaked in water.
The wild grass on either side grew sparser and sparser, until eventually...
There was nothing but a white expanse of saline-alkali soil, where one step could sink half a shoe deep.
The wind came from the east, carrying moisture and an indescribable fishy stench, like rotten fish gills.
Yang Yong frowned.
Something wasn't right about this road.
Sure enough.
Just after the Demoness Pickup Truck rounded a gentle slope, something appeared in the middle of the road ahead.
A weasel.
Its entire body was snow-white, dazzlingly so.
Beneath the murky gray daylight, its fur looked coated in a thick layer of frost, without a single stray-colored hair.
It was a size bigger than an ordinary weasel, sitting in the middle of the road with its tail raised high, a tuft of white fur at the tip swaying back and forth in the wind.
Long Ya instinctively raised her gun and aimed at it, her hands perfectly steady.
"Master, there's something wrong with that thing."
Yang Yong had seen it too.
He narrowed his eyes and studied the white weasel.
It wasn't solid.
It was far too white in the sunlight, and when the wind blew past, the