Chapter 688: Nobody Gets Out Alive
Kincaid sneered. âWhatâs there to talk about with that sort of weird ass sh*t? Hm, zombie or vampire?â
Michael said, âZombie! He wonât let us hit him in the head. He must be a zombie.â
Bang!
The driver, who had just turned into a black shadow, was hit in the head and fell to the ground.
The driver was at most 60% as strong as that female vampire Raquel in the secret room; he was unlucky to run into Luke.
Luke stepped on the guyâs back. âTell me, who sent you? Donât tell me itâs Dukhovich. Heâs not one of you.â
The driver struggled weakly on the ground and yelled, âYour stick... is there something on it?â
Luke knocked him on the back of the head with the end of the rod. âDo you think I donât know that youâre scared of silver weapons?â
As he hit the driver hard, the driverâs head let out some sparks, and he screamed. âYou dare go up against us? Weâll get our revenge!â
Impatient, Luke picked up his Glock.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
A series of holes appeared in the driverâs stomach.
âIâm the one asking the questions now. Tell me the locations of your people, and Iâll get them to avenge you,â he said mockingly.
Less than five minutes later, Luke stabbed the driver in the head.
The chatty duo fell silent as they looked at the driver, who was screaming and struggling in pain.
Luke shouted from the backseat, âGet in, fellas. Weâre in a hurry here.â
As if waking up from a dream, they got into the car and continued on their way.
Luke took out another lollipop and started munching on it as he hummed, âNobody gets out alive~â.
After a brief silence, Kincaid asked, âWhat the hell was that?â
Luke switched the lollipop from his left cheek to his right cheek. âMichael was wrong. Hitting a vampire in the head might not kill them, but itâll still hurt and disfigure them, so of course he doesnât want to be hit in the head.â
Michael couldnât help but interject, âAre you very familiar with... vampires?â
Luke shook his head. âIâm not familiar with them, but I saw a guy called a daywalker hunt down and kill a bunch of them.â
Both Michael and Kincaid sucked in cold breaths of air.
This was a monster that was still alive and kicking after being shot a dozen times, and someone could hunt down and kill a bunch of them?
At that point, Luke raised his own question. âWhy is Dukhovich working with vampires? Have you heard anything suspicious?â
After a brief silence, Michael shook his head.
Kincaid, however, said, âI once heard that Dukhovich would secretly send some âcriminalsâ who had gotten the death penalty to certain parts of Eastern Europe, and the people who received them were from certain private organizations.â
Luke hummed and didnât say anything else.
It was quite possible that Dukhovich had been providing the vampires with âgoodsâ in a mutually beneficial exchange.
It couldnât be any easier for a person in power to pillage âgoods.â When the ruler was cruel and had no bottom line, pillaging was very easy.
The chatty duo was silent for a moment.
But Michael suddenly asked, âHow can they catch up with us just based on surveillance footage? There are at least three to four side roads along this route. Are they watching every one of them? Iâm more willing to believe that they have people waiting at the docks.â
Luke didnât say anything.
It was impossible for him to be tracked. The most important thing about his fake phone was that it couldnât be used to monitor or locate him.
Also, he hadnât been very active in Europe so far, and most of his targets were dead.
But his gaze fell on Kincaid in the passenger seat.
Michael looked at Kincaid as well.
The black baldie was surprised. âWhat? Iâm a victim. Do you think I would get someone to kill me?â
Thinking this, Michael couldnât help but glance at the backseat in the rearview mirror.
Luke coughed and said, âMy phone canât be tracked, but I donât know about yours.â
Michael shook his head decisively. âIâm using a ghost chip. Thereâs no way to trace the source...â
He looked at the baldie suspiciously. âWhere did you get the gun just now?â
Kincaid shrugged. âI took it from a mercenary.â
Michael: â...You didnât take his phone, did you?â
After a brief silence, Kincaid gave a hollow laugh. â...It was convenient.â
The car swayed on the road and Michael roared, âWTF! Youâre still not throwing it away? Donât you know that you can easily track the location of a phone chip? Thatâs why Iâm using a ghost chip! Itâs 2004, what century are you living in?â
Kincaid was displeased. âIâm an old man, but Iâll act as soon as I have a goal. Iâm not like the two of you, hesitating and weighing the pros and cons, okay?â
The chatty duo started arguing again.
But as Kincaid argued, he threw his phone out the window, using his actions to admit that it was his mistake.
Luke continued eating his lollipop as a spectator.
He had known that Kincaid had a phone on him that might draw the enemy.
But so what? They were all experience and credit points!
It was a pity Michael had discovered the bait phone, and Luke didnât want to be labeled an idiot.
Once a person was deemed an idiot, everyone would avoid them in the future, and anything bad that happened would be blamed on them.
As dawn broke, the three of them reached a dock.
Michael wasnât wrong; the other party had indeed been tracking the phone and hadnât sensed his intentions.
There was no one at the dock.
There were a lot of docks in England, and plenty of ferries that left for France and Amsterdam.
The mercenaries who were after Kincaid werenât a large force, and couldnât monitor all the docks in a short period of time.
There were definitely people watching the channel tunnel, which was why Michael didnât drive to France.
Sitting on the ferry, the three of them leaned against the railing at the top of the ferry and watched England gradually disappear.
Luke had bought a big bag of snacks from a supermarket on the pier, and gave Kincaid a drink on the boat. âItâs an energy drink! Hm, itâs nothing like the one in Michaelâs car.â
Kincaid didnât think anything of it. He accepted it and drank.
Luke gave Michael another bottle of coffee. âYouâre still young. Have this to wake up.â
Neither of them cared. They opened their drinks and started drinking and chatting.
Luke sat on the railing with a smile and took out a sandwich to eat.
He didnât forget to give the chatty duo some food.
The reason he was being so nice was that it would take a few hours to get there, and it would be nice to listen to their two-man show.
Food replenished stamina, drinks replenished saliva, and these two chatterboxes could continue chattering.
Listening to their conversation, Luke gradually understood what was going on with Kincaid.
In a sense, the black baldie was similar to Luke.