Chapter 838: Give Me a Cigarette
“Sister White Rabbit!”
Lovely Lamb jumped off the sofa and ran up to White Rabbit with a skip in her steps, throwing her arms around White Rabbit.
White Rabbit lowered the bags of supplies to the floor before pulling off the hood and taking off her mask. She crouched down to hold Lovely Lamb tightly, nuzzling her soft, warm face.
“Good girl. Where’s Uncle Tiger?”
“In the room.” Lovely Lamb pouted. “He wouldn’t play with me, and he was mean.”
White Rabbit felt a pang in her chest. It seemed that War Tiger hadn’t told Lovely Lamb about Songstress.
“He’s in a bad mood.” White Rabbit stroked Lovely Lamb’s hair. “I bring you something tasty. I’ll chat with Uncle Tiger then make food for you.”
“Yeah!” Lovely Lamb meekly let go of White Rabbit and sat back on the sofa, returning to watching the animation.
White Rabbit walked across the living room to a slightly ajar metal door. She went in and closed the door behind her. Inside was a barebone room about a hundred square meters big. It was dimly lit. Placed by the wall was a Black Gold hibernation chamber.
Two foldable stools sat by the chamber. War Tiger had claimed one, his arms hanging down and his head tipped up. The cigarette in his mouth was burned out, leaving only a cigarette butt. The ash left burn marks on his lips, but he didn’t seem to notice.
He looked like a madman lost in his thoughts or an idiot in a drunken stupor.
The floor around him was littered with cigarette butts, the smoke filling the air and assaulting the senses. White Rabbit went up to him with a frown, tamping down the urge to kick him off the stool.
“Took you long enough.” War Tiger leaned forward and grinned. “More cigarettes?”
White Rabbit sat on the chair across from him and took out a pack of cigarettes. War Tiger’s eyes lit up. He reached out for the cigarettes, only for White Rabbit to quickly pull back.
“Are you just going to rot and smell here?” White Rabbit demanded.
“Did you hear yourself?” War Tiger smiled awkwardly. “Your idol is here in his coffin too. Why didn’t you say he’s rotting and smelling too?”
“Little Yan Yang contacted Heavenly Dog.” War Tiger curled his lips. “He was visiting West Nation these couple of days. He asked for a meeting between leaders.”
...
Northern suburban area of West Nation, late at night.
Dressed in a red racing outfit with a black helmet, Gao Yang rode a black motorcycle. He raced along the suburban freeway, resembling an oval-shaped glowing bug speeding along the land's black artery.
The motorcycle soon slowed and drifted sideways, coming to a stop at the entrance of a private ranch. Hopping off, Gao Yang removed his helmet and tossed it backward, landing it precisely on the handlebar. In a blink, he was through the metal door and into the ranch with Teleportation.
After walking some distance, Gao Yang spotted a farmhouse built in the sixties or seventies. He turned left into a grazing ground. A large wooden cow pen stood there, housing a few dozen cows. Gao Yang quickly moved past the grazing ground and entered the oak forest beyond it.
It was winter, and the trees stood bare. The skeletons of trees with their winding branches resembled the result of a witch's black magic. They seemed ready to transform into dangerous ents, poised to strike passersby at any moment.
A few minutes later, Gao Yang emerged from the eerie oak forest. His vision opened up to reveal a small gray-blue lake before him. By the lake, a wooden dock extended into the water, where someone sat in a wheelchair.
Gao Yang went on high alert and slowly approached the wheelchair. In it sat a frail-looking old man wearing thick pajamas and a cute Christmas hat. His feet were clad in mismatched thick woolen socks—one black, one blue—with a fuzzy slipper on only one foot.
Slumping, the old man held a fishing rod with his hands clasped together.
Gao Yang looked at him from the front.
The old man appeared to be in his sixties or seventies, with loose, darkened skin and high cheekbones. His muddled blue eyes bulged like cracked fish eyes. His large, rosacea-affected nose dominated his face, while his thin, cracked lips resembled sun-dried earthworms. His mouth hung open on one side, revealing crooked, yellowed teeth and a trail of drool at the corner.
His facial muscles spasmed intermittently, as if beyond his control. He bore the appearance of a stroke victim, unable to care for himself.
Gao Yang was puzzled by the presence of this random wanderer at War Tiger's chosen meeting place.
Suddenly, a fierce, murderous current surged from behind him. Gao Yang reached back, golden energy bursting from his arm. In an instant, he conjured a giant, translucent golden shield.
Clang! The heavy Black Gold greatsword collided with the golden shield; brilliant energy particles sputtered and danced. Gao Yang took the hit without wavering. However, the powerful shockwave, diverted by the energy shield, sent the old man and his wheelchair flying from behind Gao Yang. They crashed onto the grassland not far away.