Chapter 370: Being a Hostage

Translator: Tim Editor: GlobeGlotter

Ye Mo avoided the patrol fleet and flew for another hour before seeing land. He realized he was far off course, without coordinates and unable to understand the local language.

He found a secluded spot and landed, needing to recover his depleted chi essence. He’d probably rushed his journey. He also realized he had no US dollars or identification.

The area was spacious, and after waiting a long time without finding anyone to ask for directions, he was about to move when a pickup truck sped past, catching his attention.

The truck seemed normal, but the five occupants, including the driver, did not. Each carried a gun, and the truck was modified; the trunk was empty.

Ye Mo decided to follow because he saw the words “I will get revenge” written in small Chinese characters on the truck, visible to his spirit sense.

Unexpectedly, the truck stopped near a hidden location, not far from some shops. Four of the men entered two different shops.

Ye Mo followed into one shop, intending to ask directions to San Francisco and observe the men. A large police officer noticed him, immediately becoming alert.

Ye Mo frowned. If questioned, he’d have to fight. The officer, seemingly ignoring two suspicious black men, approached him.

“HELP!” A shout rang out, diverting the officer’s attention. Two black men were robbing the store, and the owner was yelling for help, held hostage by one of the men.

The officer drew his gun. Ye Mo shook his head, surprised by the brazen robbery. He wished he hadn't followed, thinking the Chinese characters on the truck indicated the occupants might speak Chinese.

Just as he was leaving, one of the black men approached. Realizing they were looking for hostages, Ye Mo remained still, thinking it might be a convenient way to get a ride.

As he suspected, the robber seized Ye Mo and knocked out the store owner before searching for something. Confusingly, they discarded loose change. Were they not robbing the store?

He soon realized they weren’t after money. Their frantic search suggested their target was in one of the two shops.

Seeing the store owner, Ye Mo understood why he'd been chosen as a hostage: he was easily intimidated. Although Ye Mo was around 1.8 meters tall, the 1.9-meter store owner was far more imposing and muscular.

A police siren wailed in the distance; more officers were arriving. Another yell came from the other store; they’d likely found what they sought. The two black men took Ye Mo and the store owner hostage.

They crammed Ye Mo and the store owner into the modified truck's trunk, as there was no room in the cab.

By the time police arrived, the truck had vanished. Ye Mo saw they had a small black case—likely their objective. His spirit sense revealed bags of cocaine.

Drug dealers? Ye Mo understood, but how did they know the drugs were hidden?

The pickup sped away and merged into traffic. After half an hour, it pulled onto open land.

The large, bearded black man called out, and the car slowed. Two men emerged and dumped the store owner.

The other two came to throw Ye Mo out, but he grabbed them, severed their arteries, and tossed them from the truck. The three men in front mistook the sounds for Ye Mo being thrown out and continued driving down a small road.

An hour later, the truck stopped outside a private mansion. The two black men and the driver exited. Ye Mo thought, “They went to great lengths for a single crime.”

The bearded man saw Ye Mo and yelled in surprise.

Unable to understand, Ye Mo lifted the bearded man, saying, “Take me to someone who speaks my language.”

The two remaining men turned to shoot, but Ye Mo, without looking, threw two fireballs, incinerating them.

The bearded man stared, muttering fearfully. He apparently understood and pointed towards a room.

He took Ye Mo to a sealed underground basement and opened a door. Several cases sat inside. Ye Mo wondered why he’d been brought here, after simply requesting a translator.

He opened a case to reveal millions of dollars. These robbers were wealthy. Ye Mo stored the cash in his ring; he needed US dollars.

The bearded man's eyes widened as Ye Mo made the money disappear. Ye Mo opened more cases containing worn firearms, which he disregarded.

About to ask for directions to San Francisco, Ye Mo spotted a map on the wall.

After searching, he located San Francisco. He pointed to Daly City on the map and asked the bearded man where they were.

He was in Daly City, not far from San Francisco.

With his bearings, Ye Mo killed the bearded man and found a secluded area to cultivate before flying to San Francisco.

…

San Francisco, An Zha Street. Ye Mo arrived and hailed a taxi. Unable to understand the driver, he said, “I want to go to Chinatown.”

“Ok.” The driver gestured him inside.

Ye Mo rejoiced—this man spoke Chinese!

The driver, anticipating this, clarified, “I know a little Chinese.”

It was enough; he only needed to reach Chinatown.

An hour later, Ye Mo reached Ming Yu Tower. It was afternoon, due to the time difference.

He entered the ancient Chinese-style building. A man in his fifties sat reading a book.

A younger waiter approached, “May I help you?”

Ye Mo examined the antiques, “This bracelet was sold here, yes?” He showed the waiter the bracelet.

The waiter confirmed its sale and called to the older man. The old man examined the bracelet and confirmed its origin, asking if Ye Mo had questions.

Ye Mo smiled, “I’d like to know its origin.”

The old man, removing his glasses, looked troubled; such questions were usually avoided.

Ye Mo placed about $10,000 on the table, “Boss, your payment.”