A "Surprise" on Landing and Lü Yi's "Greetings"
A slight but persistent vibration emanated from the fuselage, accompanied by the roar of engine thrust reverse, as the massive Gulfstream G650 business jet began to decelerate and taxi on the runway at Seattle–Tacoma International Airport.
The scenery outside the window gradually became clearer from blurry patches of color: a wet gray runway, rows of neatly arranged passenger plane tails in the distance, and airport facilities that looked particularly deserted under a leaden gray sky. The rain seemed to have just stopped; the ground glistened with water, and a cool, damp feeling could be felt in the air even through the porthole.
The plane slowly turned and finally came to a quiet parking spot away from the main terminal. This was a private jet service arranged by K through his connections, avoiding the busy public jet bridges.
The cabin door opened, and a gust of wind, a mixture of the smell of aviation fuel and the damp chill of the Pacific Ocean coast, rushed in. Lü Yi was the first to dart out, like a hunting dog that had been caged for too long. After stepping onto the solid concrete ground, he stretched his arms and legs, took a deep breath, and then coughed twice from the cold air.
He looked around. The tarmac was empty, with ground crew vehicles moving silently in the distance. The view was unobstructed, but the sky was overcast, and the atmosphere wasn't particularly lively. But this didn't dampen his spirits. A sense of excitement at stepping onto a brand new battlefield, mixed with a touch of deliberately flamboyant mockery, welled up inside him.
He suddenly turned around, facing the empty tarmac and the gloomy sky, opened his arms, and shouted in Chinese:
"America! Your King has returned!"
The sound echoed briefly across the empty tarmac before being quickly dispersed by the wind, sounding somewhat comical and inexplicably arrogant.
Lin Feng had just stepped out of the cabin when he heard Lü Yi's sudden "announcement," and his steps faltered slightly. His face was expressionless, but his gaze swept over Lü Yi's feignedly heroic Back View and then over the unfamiliar, gray airport scene before him.
However, the corners of his mouth involuntarily curved upwards into a subtle, genuine arc.
This smile was partly due to Lü Yi's ability to break the monotony in his own unique way, bringing a harmless touch of liveliness. The other, deeper and more subtle part, was because just a few hours earlier, at an altitude of 30,000 feet, the key conjecture about the "system's" summoning rules had been perfectly and unexpectedly verified.
Jonathan Lee, the deputy commissioner of the Seattle Police Department, is the de facto second-in-command. This "pawn" who appeared out of nowhere is like a lamp that has been lit in a crucial position on the North America chessboard where he is about to make a move, giving him an unprecedented sense of clarity and control over this unfamiliar battlefield.
The smile vanished in an instant, and Lin Feng regained his usual composure as he descended the gangway.
Beside them, several passengers who had come on the same shuttle bus also disembarked. Judging from their attire, they seemed to be a small group attending a business event, mostly white, with expressions of fatigue from the long flight and their usual reserve.
Lü Yi's strange cry just now drew their surprised gazes. Their gazes first fell on Lü Yi, with astonishment at seeing a "strange person," and then swept over Lin Feng, with a hint of imperceptible disdain and a kind of condescending scrutiny in their eyes, as if they were assessing the two strange strangers who had acted abruptly.
One of the men, a tall, bald Black man with tattoos on his neck, was clearly annoyed by Lü Yi's arrogant shout, which he didn't understand. He pursed his lips, nudged his companion with his elbow, and muttered, deliberately in a voice loud enough for everyone around to hear, "Yellow Monkey."
His companion, another Black man with dreadlocks, chuckled upon hearing this, glanced at Lin Feng and his companion, and then uttered a few derogatory and sarcastic remarks in slang, roughly mocking stereotypes that Asia are dull, timid, and only good at imitating. The two of them echoed each other, eliciting low chuckles from the others in their small group, their gazes filled with undisguised contempt.
They were speaking English, Lü Yi didn't understand everything, but he vaguely knew that the word "monkey" wasn't a good word. Coupled with their undisguised mocking expressions and pointing manner, malice seemed to be emanating from them.
The playful expression on Lü Yi's face vanished instantly. Without even twitching his eyebrows, he turned around and strode towards the two black men who were still chatting and laughing. His movements were slow but steady, carrying a sense of pressure honed from street brawls, a direct approach to a target.
Lin Feng did not stop walking; he merely glanced at the two men with indifferent eyes, as if he were looking at insignificant trash on the roadside.
Lü Yi walked up behind the two men, very close. He stretched out his hands, one on each side, and casually placed them on the shoulders of the two black men.
The two men's laughter stopped abruptly, and they froze, clearly not expecting that this Asian boy would not only not lower his head and walk away quickly as they had anticipated, but would instead dare to come closer.
"Um, you two," Lü Yi began, speaking in broken Chinese, a slight smile even appearing on his face, though none of it reached his eyes, "What are you chatting about? You seem to be having a great time. Tell me, let me hear it too, and share in the fun?"
The hand on his shoulder wasn't forceful, but the close contact and the coldness emanating from Lü Yi's calm tone made both Black men uncomfortable. The bald man suddenly turned around, his fleshy face twitching, muttered a curse, and reached out to grab Lü Yi's collar. "Get your hands off..."
He hadn't finished speaking.
Lü Yi's hand, which was on his shoulder, slid down smoothly and precisely grabbed his outstretched wrist. At the same time, he shifted his body slightly to the side, and his right leg, like a spring that had been holding back for a long time, suddenly sprang upwards!
"Bang!"
A dull thud landed squarely between the bald black man's legs.
"Agh--!!!" A shrill, distorted scream rang out. The bald black man's eyes bulged, and his entire face instantly turned from black to purple and then to pale. All his sound and strength seemed to have been scattered by that kick. Clutching his groin, he curled up like a boiled shrimp and fell straight backward to the ground, his body convulsing. Apart from painful groans, he could no longer utter any complete syllables.
Everything happened too fast. The dreadlocked Black man next to him didn't even see how his companion fell; he only saw the bald man turn around, then scream and collapse. He froze for a moment, the mockery still lingering on his face, his eyes filled with disbelief.
In those fractions of a second of his daze, Lü Yi had already released the bald man's wrist, his body turning around like a tightly wound spring. He clenched his right fist and, using the power of his waist, delivered a simple, straightforward punch that slammed into the dreadlocked black man's still bewildered face!
"Puff!"
The sound of a fist slamming into the bridge of his nose was clearly audible. The dreadlocked black man's head snapped back, stars flashing before his eyes. A sharp, stinging pain shot from the bridge of his nose straight to his forehead, and tears and snot instantly streamed down his face. He screamed and instinctively bent over to cover his face.
Lü Yi's movements were so fluid, as if he had practiced them a thousand times. The moment his opponent bent over, he raised his right leg and delivered another vicious kick, targeting the groin once again.
"Ah!" The dreadlocked black man followed in his companion's footsteps, screaming as he fell to the ground, curling up in a ball.
Lü Yi didn't stop. Without even glancing at the first bald man who was still convulsing on the ground, he walked straight to the dreadlocked black man who was clutching his face and groin and groaning in pain. He raised his foot, which was wearing a hard-soled ankle boot, and kicked it hard at the side of the man's head, like kicking a soccer ball!
"Thump!" The head struck the sole of the boot with a dull thud. The dreadlocked black man didn't even utter a sound before passing out, his body limp.
Lü Yi then turned around and walked towards the bald man who had been there the first time. The bald man had caught his breath and was struggling to get up. When he saw Lü Yi approaching, his eyes were filled with fear and resentment. He cursed and threatened in broken English, spewing words like "Wild Dog Gang," "Cut off your head," and "Kill you."
Lü Yi didn't understand what the other person was saying, but he could tell from the other person's expression that it wasn't a nice thing. He walked over to the bald man, raised his foot, and delivered a merciless "soccer kick," striking the man hard near his temple.
The bald man groaned, rolled half a circle, and then went limp and lay still, only a faint groan remaining.
From the moment Lü Yi walked over to the moment the two men collapsed to the ground, less than fifteen seconds had passed. Clean, efficient, and ruthless—all the most practical and insidious tactics in street fights. The white tourists who had been laughing nearby were now completely stunned, their mouths agape like ducks being choked. Their scorn and mockery had been replaced by horror, and they instinctively took a few steps back, keeping a safe distance from Lü Yi.
Lü Yi flicked his wrist, glanced at the two incapacitated men on the ground, his face expressionless, only showing a casual "I've warmed up" attitude. He turned to look at Lin Feng, as if he wanted to say something.
Just then, Lin Feng walked over. He didn't look at Lü Yi, but went straight to the bald black man who was still groaning weakly and staring at them with venomous eyes, and stopped.
He bent down slightly, his gaze calmly fixed on the other man's face, contorted with pain and rage. The bald black man continued to curse and threaten in broken English: "Wild Dog Gang... you'll regret this... your head... hang up..."
Lin Feng understood. There was no sign of anger on his face; instead, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, revealing a clear and cold smile. That smile contained no warmth, only an almost cruel calm and a condescending indifference.
He straightened up and, in clear and standard English, addressed the bald man on the ground, or perhaps as if addressing some invisible threat in the air, slowly and clearly uttered a few words:
OK.
He paused, his gaze piercing the other person's eyes like an icicle.
"I'm waiting."
After saying that, he didn't look at the person on the ground again, as if they were just two clumps of filth to be avoided. He lifted his foot and stepped directly on the bald black man's shin, the sole of his boot making a slight "creak" as it hit the bone, eliciting another suppressed groan of pain from the man.
Lin Feng continued walking towards the shuttle bus without stopping. Lü Yi shrugged and followed, kicking the unconscious dreadlocked black man on the ground before leaving to make sure he wouldn't wake up anytime soon.
The white passengers stared in disbelief as the two men left, then glanced at the two pitiful black men on the ground. They fell silent, hurriedly walked around them, and rushed to their cars, afraid of being implicated.
On the ground, the bald black man, enduring excruciating pain and humiliation, trembled as he pulled his phone from his pocket. The shattered screen reflected his extremely resentful eyes. He struggled to press the speed dial button and roared into the microphone in a voice filled with pain and rage.
In the distance, Lin Feng and Lü Yi had already boarded the shuttle bus. Lin Feng's calm and composed profile was reflected in the window, along with the gloomy sky outside where low-hanging clouds seemed to foreshadow something.
The wind at the airport seemed a bit colder.