Chapter Twenty-One: The Traitor (Part Two)

Zhao Qiang withdrew his left hand and, with his right, pressed Li Zixin’s head down forcefully, pulling his own head back to hide behind Li Zixin. Li Zixin’s face turned red from the strain, and before he could resist, the terror of suffocation seized him.

“Put your guns down!” Zhao Qiang threatened coldly. “If you want your boss to live, you’d better do as I say!”

Under the lights, several armed police officers slowly lowered the guns they had just raised. Years of experience had taught them never to provoke a criminal holding a hostage.

“Put the guns on the ground and kick them over!” Zhao Qiang ordered again, tightening his grip around Li Zixin.

Seeing their boss struggling desperately, face flushed, the police begrudgingly kicked their guns toward Zhao Qiang. With the threat neutralized, Zhao Qiang relaxed, loosening his hold on Li Zixin.

Suddenly, chaos erupted. Zhao Qiang felt a rush of air behind his head, followed by a sharp pain, and everything went black.

Li Zixin, finally free from Zhao Qiang’s grip, leaned against the wall, coughing violently. Spitting on Zhao Qiang’s unconscious face, he kicked him several times and shouted madly, “Tie him up! I want to make him suffer!”

A bucket of cold water was dumped over Zhao Qiang, jolting him awake from his stupor. Li Zixin stared at him with a twisted grin, the same sickening smile as before. Zhao Qiang tried to stand, only to realize his hands and feet were bound.

“Save your strength,” Li Zixin sneered, slapping Zhao Qiang’s face. “You wanted to kill me? Well, here I am—what can you do now?”

Finding himself unable to escape, Zhao Qiang stopped struggling. If he was still alive, these beasts weren’t planning to kill him—yet. There was no need to waste energy now; he had to wait for an opportunity. Rage would only make his enemies careless and expose a weakness. Quietly, he tested his foot and felt the hard object hidden in his boot still there, easing his mind. Resolute, Zhao Qiang spat in Li Zixin’s face.

This act enraged Li Zixin further. He hadn’t expected this streetwise rogue to become so defiant. “If you won’t drink the toast, you’ll drink the penalty!” Li Zixin wiped the spit from his face and slapped Zhao Qiang hard.

Blood trickled from Zhao Qiang’s lips, but he laughed instead of growing angry. “Is that all you’ve got, Li? Even a woman has more strength than you!”

Li Zixin was nearly beside himself with fury. “Hit him! Beat him to death!” he screamed, kicking Zhao Qiang off the chair.

The others closed in, raining blows from batons and boots on Zhao Qiang’s head and chest. Only when he passed out again did Li Zixin finally call them off, venting his rage. Dragging Zhao Qiang up from the floor, they doused him with another bucket of cold water.

By now, Zhao Qiang’s head was battered and bleeding, his already plump face swollen, his eye turned black and blue, blood oozing from wounds atop his head and from his mouth.

As Zhao Qiang came around again, Li Zixin glared at him viciously. “Listen, Zhao, don’t test my patience. I’ll give you one last chance: join us, and I’ll make sure you rise above all but me. Or I’ll strip you and toss you out for the zombies!”

Zhao Qiang spat bloody saliva and threw Li Zixin a contemptuous glance, then lowered his head and sat silently, enduring their torment without a word.

Seeing this, Li Zixin, consumed by rage, drew his pistol, flicked off the safety, and pressed it to Zhao Qiang’s forehead. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, someone stopped him. After whispering a few words and making a throat-slashing gesture, Li Zixin finally moved the gun away, both men grinning wickedly.

“That’s the plan!” Li Zixin nodded, staring at Zhao Qiang. “Wait here obediently, Zhao. I’ll bring you a little gift when I get back!” He laughed coldly.

The man who stopped Li Zixin was Wu Hai, the one who had ambushed Zhao Qiang and saved Li Zixin. His whispered suggestion changed Li Zixin’s mind. “Boss, since Zhao is in our hands, that Wei guy can’t escape. Why not raid the SWAT armory first, then use Zhao as bait to lure Wei out? Then… heh heh.”

Once Li Zixin and his group left, Zhao Qiang sprang into action. Though he didn’t know their new plan, the expressions and sinister laughter during their conversation sent a chill down his spine.

Struggling, Zhao Qiang finally retrieved the hard object from his boot—a leaf-shaped, gleaming dagger.

Li Zixin’s mission went smoothly. In no time, he swept the SWAT team’s armory clean. Sitting on a bus loaded with weapons and ammunition, he thought, “Wei, your days are numbered! And those two women—once Wei’s dealt with, I’ll come for you next!” Humming a tune, Li Zixin felt utterly relaxed.

Back in the convenience store, Zhao Qiang was still bound, unchanged since Li Zixin departed. Seeing Zhao Qiang slumped, Li Zixin felt at ease, patted Wu Hai’s shoulder, and said, “Good work, brothers. Go have a drink—I want a private chat with Zhao.”

He dragged a chair over and sat down brazenly in front of Zhao Qiang, their noses nearly touching. “So, Zhao, how does that feel?”

“What do you want?” Zhao Qiang’s voice was weak, as if the earlier torture had drained him.

“What do I want?” Li Zixin smiled triumphantly. “I’ll be a good man for once and let you die knowing the truth.”

After hearing Li Zixin’s plan, Zhao Qiang’s heart raced. He had to abandon his earlier scheme to kill Li Zixin and escape. If they were leaving him no way out and plotting to kill Wei, then he had to strike first.

Just as Li Zixin was gloating over his plan to eliminate Wei Tao, he suddenly sensed danger. Before he could react, the leaf-shaped blade sliced across his throat. Clutching the wound, Li Zixin stared at Zhao Qiang in disbelief as his life ebbed away, collapsing to the floor.

Zhao Qiang took the 92-type pistol Wei Tao had given him from Li Zixin’s waist, checked it, and quietly made his way downstairs. In the convenience store, Wu Hai and the others were drinking, oblivious to the events above. Zhao Qiang stood in the shadows of the storeroom, coldly watching the unsuspecting men.

Once he was sure they were unguarded, Zhao Qiang drew his pistol and stepped out of the shadows. The sudden appearance startled the police, who instinctively reached for their waists. Zhao Qiang gave them no chance—the gunshots rang out, and all the policemen fell, struck down.

Approaching Wu Hai, who was clutching his wound in agony, Zhao Qiang looked down and said coldly, “I won’t kill you, but don’t bother us again. Next time, I won’t be so merciful.” With that, he left the convenience store without looking back, jumped onto the bus, and sped off toward the supermarket.

Zhao Qiang did not know he had made a grave mistake. The wound on Li Zixin’s throat, which should have been fatal, was healing at a speed visible to the naked eye. Li Zixin’s eyes opened again, glinting coldly. The same was happening to the policemen Zhao Qiang had wounded but not killed, though their wounds healed far slower than Li Zixin’s, who had suffered a mortal blow.