Chapter 21: On the road

On the other side of the alley, in the depths of the warehouse, the flames had been extinguished. The twisted, shapeshifting iron door lay quietly on the ground in the distance, replaced by a huge blackened hole where the warehouse's original iron door once stood. Several gangsters with guns quickly walked into the warehouse, seeing charred corpses and remnants of guns scattered everywhere. Limbs and pieces of meat were strewn across the floor, the smell of burnt flesh filling the air.

A man scanned the ruins and finally found something. He immediately walked to the corner and turned a corpse over, revealing a severely burned face. Through the contours and features, he could barely recognize that this was the person they were looking for. His expression changed drastically, his hands trembled uncontrollably, and the last thing he wanted to see had happened.

Realizing the seriousness of the matter, the man took out his mobile phone and made a call.

"Vladimir, there's a problem with the trading place tonight. There was an explosion in the warehouse. All people are dead, and none of ours survived. Your brother Anatoly...is dead."

There was no response from the other end of the phone.

The man didn't dare to hang up and could only wait patiently. Finally, a hoarse voice came slowly: "Who is the murderer?"

The man replied tremblingly: "When we arrived at the scene, we found two suspicious people. They were probably the ones who caused the explosion..."

"Catch them for me!!!"

The uncontrollable roar erupted suddenly, directly interrupting the man's words. Even through the phone, the man could feel Vladimir's monstrous anger as he yelled: "Send everyone out! Those two damn murderers must be caught! I want them alive!! I f**king want them alive!!"

"Boom!"

Along with the loud bang from the other end of the phone, there was only a busy tone. The man, still shaken, put away the phone. He knew the situation had become extremely serious. The person in charge of this transaction was Vladimir's younger brother, and Anatoly's death had driven the leader of the Russian gang completely mad.

The man took a deep breath and then instructed the others: "Call all the gang members. We must catch those two people! Remember, they must be alive!"

…

Da da da da da da!!

Deafening and dense gunshots sounded as Paul pulled the trigger continuously amidst the bullet rain. But against a fast-moving motorcycle, his aim was off, and the bullets went astray. Meanwhile, the opponent's bullets hit him, drawing blood. Taking advantage of Paul standing in front of him, Frank calmly raised his gun and killed the gangster holding the submachine gun with one shot. Ignoring the oncoming motorcycle, Frank hit the driver with another shot.

"Boom!"

The out-of-control motorcycle fell to the ground, skidding a few meters before hitting the wall. The smoke in the alley began to dissipate, and shadows were rapidly approaching.

"Go check the car!" Frank growled. He quickly changed clips and took his gun, firing wildly into the alley to hold back the pursuers. Paul understood and immediately ran to the motorcycle. Despite the impact, the motorcycle was only slightly damaged. Paul set it up and sat on the driver's seat.

Frank backed away towards Paul while shooting at the alley. Counting the bullets left, Frank turned and sat on the rear seat just before his magazine emptied. However, Paul didn't drive immediately. Turning his head in embarrassment, he said, "Sorry, I forgot, I don't know how to ride a motorcycle."

Frank: "..."

To say Frank is really a tough guy, he managed to maintain a deadpan expression even in this situation. Then, he asked a very fatal question.

"You can't drive, why did you sit in the driver's seat?"

"...Instinctive reaction."

"..."

The gangsters in the rear were already catching up, and they had no time to change positions. Frank gritted his teeth and roared, "Drive!"

Hearing Frank, Paul stopped hesitating and twisted the accelerator handle suddenly. "Then let's see your instinct!"

The engine roared to life, and the motorcycle started with a whoosh, almost throwing Frank off. In less than half a second, they were on the road, leaving the gangsters behind at the alley entrance. Paul embodied the saying, "Step on the accelerator and leave the rest to God."

Blinded by the strong wind, Paul instinctively gripped the handlebars. Frank, holding onto the rear seat armrest, felt the wind whistle past his ears. Even with his strong psychological fortitude, he couldn't control his heartbeat at this moment. To be honest, Frank regretted it. Not that he regretted letting Paul drive, but he regretted getting on this bike.