Chapter Ninety-One: Kindred in Suffering

The black phone in his arms kept buzzing insistently in the dim basement light, its vibration making Chen Cao’s heart quiver faintly as his mind raced.

Doctor Ruan could not possibly still be alive. The fact that those men had resorted to harming Meimei and using such despicable means to lure him into their trap showed plainly that they had no humanity at all.

The higher-up who dealt with Doctor Ruan was certainly no ordinary man, and he must have been extremely vigilant. When Chen Cao went to make the delivery today, the slightest hint of anything wrong had been enough for them to board a speedboat and leave at once. That alone showed how cautious they were.

Whatever he had in his hands must be of great importance to them, or they would not still be searching for him to collect it at a time like this.

Chen Cao thought quickly. Somehow, by a strange twist of fate, he seemed to have stepped into a vicious circle.

The phone kept vibrating like a soul being summoned, emitting that irritating buzz. Chen Cao reached toward the trembling device tucked against his chest, and his gaze unconsciously fell on Meimei, who lay in the corner breathing faintly. In his heart, he had already made up his mind.

A deep voice came through: “Mr. Chen, something unexpected came up. Sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Chen Cao lowered his voice as much as he could and covered the phone with his hand. “I know there was an accident. I didn’t expect you to call me here.”

A cold laugh answered him. “Heh. I assume you haven’t looked at the item yet.”

Chen Cao tightened his grip on the case beside him. “No, I haven’t.”

“Then name your price.”

Chen Cao considered it. Doctor Ruan was no good man. After weighing the other man’s offer, he named a sum; right now, he desperately needed money.

“Five hundred thousand dollars, and a way out of Hossum.”

“Fine.” The reply was just as brisk. “Odense Hotel, Room 917. There’s a key card on the bar. I’ll leave the money on the table. Come get it tomorrow at seven.”

Chen Cao gave a cold snort. “You think I’ll go there to die?”

At that, the other man’s voice turned utterly unyielding. “Whether you go is up to you. But you should know how important five hundred thousand dollars is to you.” With that, the call ended.

So quick, and so absolute. The man was a master of psychological warfare, having seen through the one reason Chen Cao had no choice but to go. Five hundred thousand dollars was no small sum; for anyone, it would be tempting. Let alone the fact that the man had already realized he was short of money. No matter what, Chen Cao would have to make the trip.

He fixed his eyes on the case. What, then, was inside it?

His fingers moved over the lock. It was a combination case. Chen Cao weighed it in his hand; it was not very heavy. In the faint light, however, he made out the outline and discovered a thin wire leading directly into the interior.

An internal bomb.

Chen Cao’s eyes lit. The case had been fitted with an internal explosive. In other words, if it were opened without the correct code and forced by brute strength or by any other improper method, it would detonate.

He set the case down gently and drew a slow breath. The other side knew it. It seemed clear he truly had no choice but to go to the Odense Hotel tomorrow.

At that thought, Chen Cao suddenly rose and moved swiftly to the basement door. His hands flicked, and a dagger dropped into his grasp. Every muscle in his body went taut. He had just heard the faint sound of footsteps outside.

This basement was the hiding place he had found over the past few days, aside from his delivery work: the cellar of an abandoned residential block on the outskirts, a place utterly deserted, where even beggars would not come to sleep. Yet now there was sound. Only one possibility remained: someone had followed him here.

He held his breath. Outside, the sound abruptly ceased. Chen Cao could clearly sense breathing just beyond the wall. It seemed the other party was not especially skilled at hiding.

He judged the position, slipped lightly to the other side of the door, one hand holding the dagger, the other on the handle. If the other man had a gun, this opening motion would at least give him time to evade and strike back. If he rushed in armed, Chen Cao’s chances would drop considerably.

Once the plan was set, Chen Cao yanked the handle and flung the door open. Hiding his body within the doorway, he waited only a second before slamming it shut again, shifting to the other side and opening it once more. In the same instant, he shot out like an arrow.

“Ah!”

The man let out a cry of pain, and Chen Cao’s dagger was already pressed to his throat.

“Mr. Matsumoto, Mr. Matsumoto, don’t kill me!” the man shouted, using the name Chen Cao had taken in Odru, and in the Mainz language at that.

Chen Cao looked closely, his hand not moving in the slightest. “You? Stanley?”

The bearded face before him was full of sly, crafty lines; when he grinned, his white teeth flashed.

“That’s right. It’s me!”

“No, that’s impossible. Stanley doesn’t know a word of any language except the native dialect. Besides, if you were in Odru, how did you end up in Hossum?” Chen Cao lowered the blade a little, and at once a thin line of blood appeared on Stanley’s neck.

“Spare me, Mr. Matsumoto! I was pretending. In truth, I’m a civilian spy under Mainz. You have to believe me!” Stanley looked ready to cry. The icy sting at his throat nearly made him wet himself.

“Oh? That part can be explained. But why did you come to Hossum? And why were you following me?”

Chen Cao glanced around. Seeing no one else besides Stanley, he gripped him and dragged him into the basement, shutting the door behind them.

Stanley swept his gaze around the room and lingered on Meimei, who lay unconscious on the floor, but he did not stop talking. He knew very well that this man’s performance in Odru was absolutely beyond what ordinary people could match; he could be killed in an instant.

Ignoring Chen Cao’s hold on him, Stanley ripped off his fake beard, revealing a pale face and dark, bulging eyes. “Actually, I’m mixed blood. My father was from Mainz, my mother from Odru. My parents died in the invasion war of Kokola the year I was born. Later, when I grew a little older, I joined the Odru cadet corps. You know, in a place like Odru, being a soldier isn’t some government handout.” As he said this, Stanley pointed at his own head and laughed. “You need guts, and brains. Of course, later I discovered something even more interesting that could be exchanged for money and a way to survive: intelligence.”

Chen Cao glanced at the opportunistic Stanley. He had no interest in his life story. Releasing him, he sat in a corner and took a sip from his canteen.

“Just tell me why you left Odru and came to Hossum.”

Stanley put on a sorrowful expression. “Actually, you know the situation. Our big leader Alfred was taken out by Mainz special forces, and the ensuing fighting was a total disaster. Our guerrilla units were absorbed into the regular army. But you know what that means: becoming conventional. After living so long with lawless freedom, to become regular troops and sell your life for the government army—wouldn’t that just make you a sitting target for the guerrillas? And besides, the second leader, Sebastian, wasn’t dead. His guerrilla force still existed. To be honest, once the Allied Army withdrew, the government troops were useless. And Odru is poor, so I went to my higher-up and laid out my terms. I hoped they could find me a posting in another country under Mainz. Otherwise, I’d make public some of the intelligence I knew. I was just saying it offhand, but I never expected my superior to agree.”

Stanley chuckled. “I heard the women in Hossum are very passionate. And after the war against the Daye Army twenty years ago, nearly all the men here were wiped out. You could probably win over a Hossum woman with nothing more than a shoelace!”

Though they had not known each other long, Chen Cao had already learned Stanley’s shameless ways. Looking at his lecherous expression, he said irritably, “And the result?”

“Damn it, the whole result was that the bastards were all liars. The ancestors of that Mainz army officer—” Stanley ranted indignantly. “They said that in light of my contributions to the Alliance Army over the years, they’d grant my request and gave me three thousand dollars. I was over the moon. Add to that the savings I’d robbed together over the years, and I had close to ten thousand dollars. They were willing to send me here to work in Hossum, telling me this was the best country, with a low cost of living, and that ten thousand dollars would be enough for me to marry a wife and live out the rest of my days. They brought me to Hossum and said they’d let me enjoy myself first before assigning me work. I was thrilled, so I found a woman. But halfway through, my money was stolen, and then that bastard called the police. The instant they arrived, they started shooting—thankfully I’m a man of some skill, so I took them out one punch at a time—”

Stanley kept chattering in anger, waving his fists to show off, until Chen Cao could no longer stand it and cut him off.

“All right. I think you were set up. They couldn’t very well kill you in Odru just after things had stabilized, not when it might anger the surrendered guerrillas, so they dragged you to Hossum to finish you off. Their intentions were really quite thoughtful.”

Stanley stuck out his thumb. “Mr. Matsumoto really is a master. That’s exactly what I thought too. My superior was afraid I’d leak the intelligence and wanted to take me out when my guard was down. I escaped with nothing to my name, and I’ve been drifting around the streets for nearly a month. Yesterday, by chance, I saw you by the roadside, Mr. Matsumoto, and it was like seeing hope. So I wanted to borrow some money from you, just enough for travel expenses... what do you think?” Stanley held up three fingers, then after a moment folded one back. “Mr. Matsumoto, I only need two hundred. Two hundred dollars. Would that be all right?”

Chen Cao looked at Stanley’s shameless face. The hard lines in his own expression gradually softened, and he smiled. “You really know how to pick your timing, Stanley. First, let me tell you this: I’m not some Mr. Matsumoto. Forget Matsumoto—he’s probably already in hell by now. Second, look at my situation. Do I seem like someone who can spare two hundred dollars?”

“Aren’t you Matsumoto, the eldest son of the cult leader?” Stanley stared with his already-small eyes widened, then his pupils suddenly rolled as if he understood. “You’re a spy. I get it—you’re a spy!”

He gave a thumbs-up. “Amazing. Now I know our great leader Frederika being taken out was only a matter of moments!” As he spoke, he showed no pity at all, then blinked his eyes in grievance and said, “I knew it, Mr. Spy. I knew there had to be a reason you were living here!”

Stanley held up one finger. “One hundred dollars!”

Black lines rose on Chen Cao’s face, and his once gentle voice turned heavy. “I said I don’t have it.”

Stanley shuddered slightly. In his mind immediately surfaced the image of Matsumoto calmly cutting his own hand with a knife, blood gushing everywhere while his face never changed. He knew he had just been pulled back from the gates of hell.

“All right then, what about two sesame cakes?”

“Get lost!”

Stanley scrambled to his feet and hurried to the door, rubbing his neck where the dagger had left a faint bloody line. Still unwilling to give up, he nearly burst into tears as he said, “Matsumoto... no, Mr. Matsumoto, I know you’re a man doing great things. Just let me follow you. I can do anything, and besides this, I know how to do nothing else. You should know, the Mainz Army has already won. If my superior learns I’m still alive, he’ll definitely keep trying to have me killed here in Hossum. With no money and no backing, surviving in Hossum is just a death sentence!”

The Flame King, Chapter Ninety-One: Misery Loves Company, Update Complete.