Zhang Jie, still groggy from sleep, reached for the glock 34 under his pillow with one hand, while the other went for his charging phone.
He unlocked his phone, glanced at the time, and then saw the message.
"Hmm, be careful of the Malay?"
Looking at the message from John, Zhang Jie was a bit confused, but he quickly remembered that the first time he saw John injured at the Continental Hotel, John told him that six well-equipped Malay had ambushed him.
It seems John has found some clues.
Is this a warning to him, afraid that he might be caught in the crossfire by the Malay?
It shouldn't be, after all, he had only just entered the world of assassins, and if they wanted to find him, they would have done so long ago, why wait until now?
But Zhang Jie remained vigilant, because since John reminded him, it meant this matter was very important, and if he wasn't careful, he could very likely lose his life.
He checked his Pistol, got up and put on his holster, then placed two Pistols into the holster, and put on a loose casual denim jacket.
Then he tucked the folding knife from his nightstand into a dedicated pouch at his lower back.
As for the tactical dagger, he wouldn't bring it; it was too inconvenient.
It's always wise to be on guard against others. After preparing everything, Zhang Jie planned to modify his old car.
This 2010 16th-hand Chevrolet camaro ss with a V8 engine was the only reason Zhang Jie was attracted to it.
After all, what man doesn't love the roar of a V8?
As for environmental protection?
Haha, American big V8, to hell with environmental protection!
A real man should drive a big V8; the muscular lines and the roaring sound are what get a man's blood pumping.
He got in, closed the door, turned the key, put it in first gear, and floored the accelerator.
Boom—bang!
Wow, it can even backfire, I like it.
Just like that, Zhang Jie drove this Bumblebee-edition camaro to Detroit, after all, Detroit is a paradise for modified cars. Of course, Zhang Jie also wanted to clear his head; staying in New York for too long had become a bit tiresome.
He also wanted to test just how exhilarating his American big V8 truly was.
Driving along I-78 W and I-80 W, Zhang Jie pressed hard on the accelerator the whole way. The V8 engine let out a deafening roar, and the speedometer instantly shot up to 150 mph.
"Woah~! Awesome!"
Watching the scenery rapidly recede outside the window, Zhang Jie was incredibly excited. However, this kind of speeding didn't last too long before Zhang Jie started to feel a bit tired.
Initially, he was very excited, but two hours later, Zhang Jie's car speed had dropped to 120 mph.
Another hour passed, and Zhang Jie's car speed had already fallen to 100 mph.
To be honest, driving alone is really tiring. Zhang Jie refueled at the gas station ahead and used the restroom. When he came out, he saw a Black guy leaning on his car window, doing something.
"Hey! You! Get your dirty hands off my car."
Zhang Jie was never soft on those who intended to harm him.
Courtesy before force was his basic requirement, but his hand was already on the holster under his armpit.
Startled by Zhang Jie's shout, the Black guy turned his head and saw Zhang Jie's Asian face, immediately becoming reckless.
"Yo, I thought it was someone important, turns out it's a yellow-skinned monkey. I like your car, give it to me."
If it were a white person or another Black guy, the guy might have hesitated a bit, but seeing that it was an East Asian, he immediately became indifferent.
"If you don't change your address, I'll make you regret it, motherfucker!"
Clearly, Zhang Jie was very displeased about being called a yellow-skinned monkey. Not to mention he was Chinese-American, such an insulting term infuriated him.
But the Black guy seemed to feel nothing about it, and even became more arrogant: "I'm calling you a yellow-skinned monkey, what can you do about it? You shameless, dirty foreign invaders, get out of our America."
Oh, he didn't realize it, but he was also a racist.
"Get out of your America? Listen, you, you should go back to your mom and ask her for cotton-picking tools."
Zhang Jie's sharp tongue was naturally not bad; after being influenced by Michael and Jin Kaide, his offensive power was also extremely strong.
But the Black guy clearly didn't understand what 'cotton-picking' meant.
"Oh, you actually don't understand what cotton-picking means, that's such a pity. This is the finest heritage of your race; it should be passed down."
But the Black guy clearly understood that Zhang Jie was insulting him, so he directly pulled out the Pistol from his waist, holding his crotch with one hand and pointing the Pistol at Zhang Jie with the other.
"Yellow-skinned monkey, this is my last warning, throw over the car keys, otherwise, I'll let you know what a death threat is."
Watching the Black guy touch his crotch while pointing a Pistol at him, as if he was rapping, Zhang Jie almost burst out laughing.
With such a flawed attack posture, he could take down 10 of them in one second.
Being threatened with a Pistol, wouldn't it be too embarrassing if Zhang Jie didn't react?
So, Zhang Jie directly pulled out his Pistol from under his armpit, and without even aiming, fired a shot that hit the Black guy's Pistol.
"Woah! Fuck!"
The Black guy was startled by the sudden shot, so he immediately tried to raise his Pistol to retaliate, but found that the Pistol made no movement.
At this moment, he felt a bit of pain in his finger, so he flipped the Pistol over and discovered that his index finger had been shot off at some point.
And the severed finger was lying on the ground.
"Ah ah ah ah! Fuck! Damn it!"
The Black guy, now hit by pain, immediately howled.
The intense pain made him throw his Pistol away and roll on the ground, clutching his finger.
"Fuck! You goddamn broke my finger, damn it!"
Looking at the Black guy rolling on the ground, Zhang Jie walked over silently, aimed at his head, and delivered a kick. The world became quiet.
"I know rap is your talent, but it's a bit out of place. Baby's peaceful sleep kick, wish you happy dreams."
Beside them, the accomplices in the car trembled, not daring to move at all, as Zhang Jie's oppressive presence was too strong, while the gas station employees quietly watched the show from inside the small room.
The world is like this: whoever has a Pistol is the boss, and whoever has a Pistol and is strong is the boss.
Anyway, the Black guy's accomplices didn't dare to avenge him, and the gas station employees certainly wouldn't get involved in such a matter.
A few hundred dollars a month, why risk their lives?
After getting back in the car, Zhang Jie started the vehicle again and left the gas station.
Several more hours passed, it was 8:37 PM.
Zhang Jie drove his camaro through New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Ohio, finally entering Michigan and arriving in Detroit.
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