Red Teeth

Trying hard to steady his nerves and keep himself from wetting his pants, Hou Rui swept his gaze around and quickly spotted Jin Shanshan curled up to one side. In the shifting, dim light of the van, her face was twisted in pain; the dust smeared across her cheeks and the tangled hair at her temples combined to create a scene that evoked a kind of indescribable pity.

When Hou Rui tried to reach out and shake her, he discovered that his abdomen, chest, and shoulders were so sore he could barely exert any force. His whole body felt as if it had been dismantled, leaving him sprawled in the van in a desperate posture, swaying gently with each bump and turn.

Stay calm! Keep cool! Don’t panic! I’ll think of a way out. Hou Rui repeated these mantras to himself, forcing his eyes away from Jin Shanshan’s face and continuing to scan the cramped van, searching for any chance of escape.

Inside this small vehicle, aside from Hou Rui, the unconscious Jin Shanshan, and the massive plastic-wrapped corpse, there were only a few five-liter white plastic buckets. The space was so narrow that not only was there no crowbar or screwdriver, but not even a toothpick could be found.

Suppressing his disappointment, Hou Rui concentrated and listened intently for any sounds from the driver’s seat, hoping to glean information from the kidnappers’ conversation. But things didn’t go as he wished. For several long minutes, the stylish middle-aged man and the two men in caps remained utterly silent—no talking, no phone calls, nothing but suffocating stillness. Eventually, Hou Rui had to give up. He couldn’t match their patience; if outside help was unavailable, he had to rely on himself.

Braving the pain, he tried several times, sweating from the effort, until finally he managed to slip his hand into his pocket. Unfortunately, his phone had already been taken. He then searched around Jin Shanshan’s side, but found nothing there either. In desperation, Hou Rui even dared to search the corpse, but the pockets had been stripped clean of anything useful: no phone, no lighter, no keys.

Just as his spirits hit rock bottom, his elbow suddenly bumped into something hard in a hidden outer pocket of his jacket. It was a Montblanc pen! It had a point, after all; perhaps he could use it as a weapon.

A spark of hope reignited in Hou Rui’s heart. He carefully peeled away the packaging and gripped the costly pen tightly in his hand, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The van kept moving forward. Through the window, Hou Rui sensed the surrounding lights growing dimmer and dimmer—a clear sign they were leaving the city center and heading somewhere remote. Just as his anxiety peaked, the van suddenly braked and came to a stop.

The stylish middle-aged man quickly got out from the passenger seat, strolled around the van, paused for a few seconds to ensure the surroundings were dead silent, and then made a swift gesture.

Receiving the signal, the driver in the red cap immediately got out, walked to the rear door, while the man in the black cap vaulted over the middle row of seats to join Hou Rui and the others.

When the rear door was opened, the red-capped driver deftly hoisted the plastic-wrapped corpse onto his shoulder, grabbed a plastic bucket, and disappeared into the darkness, leaving only the black-capped man in the van.

Hou Rui held his breath and kept his eyes fixed on the black-capped man crouched nearby, his heart pounding so fiercely it threatened to burst from his chest. The hand gripping the pen trembled with tension, yet he struggled to keep his body still and feign unconsciousness. If he was discovered to be awake, it would mean not only his own doom, but Jin Shanshan’s as well.

The black-capped man pushed his baseball cap up with one finger, revealing a youthful face. Only then did Hou Rui realize this ruthless, cold-blooded figure was about his own age.

What should I do? Should I go for it now, while there are so few people, or wait a bit longer? His mind raced, torn between options—if he acted now, should he stab the man’s stomach or go for the throat?

“Heh, another job done. This gig’s really easy!” the black-capped man muttered as he reached toward the unconscious Jin Shanshan, brazenly attempting to lift her shirt. “No sense wasting this little chick before she dies.”

“Damn you—go to hell!” Unable to bear it any longer, Hou Rui suppressed his agony and drove the pen fiercely into the man’s abdomen.

The attack was sudden, and the van’s confined space left the black-capped man little room to dodge. Yet he was no ordinary thug; he reacted instantly, pressing his body against the side of the van to avoid the strike, while his right hand, shaped like a knife, lashed out mercilessly toward Hou Rui’s right eye.

With a tearing sound, the Montblanc’s sharp tip ripped through the man’s jacket, leaving a bloody gash on his belly. At the same time, the black-capped man’s fingers sliced open Hou Rui’s brow on the right side; if the wound had been just a centimeter lower, Hou Rui would have lost an eye.

“You cockroach—how dare you kick out at me! I’ll crush you.” Nobody could keep their temper after such a surprise attack. The black-capped man shouted, pinning Hou Rui’s head against the van wall and punching him viciously behind the ear. Despite the pulsing pain as his skull threatened to split apart, Hou Rui managed to blindly stab with the pen a second time.

Having spent most of his remaining strength on the first attack, Hou Rui’s second thrust was much weaker, but by a stroke of luck, it hit one of the most vulnerable spots on the human body: the Achilles tendon.

A guttural scream tore from the black-capped man’s throat, finally alarming the stylish middle-aged man and the red-capped driver outside. Both stopped what they were doing and rushed toward the van.

Inside the violently rocking vehicle, Hou Rui endured the maniacal blows from his assailant. Yet, fueled by desperation, he refused to let go, driving the pen deeper and twisting it to widen the wound.

Within seconds, Hou Rui triumphed in this painful struggle. The black-capped man gave up first, clutching the pen embedded in his ankle and collapsing in the van. But as he fell, he furiously pulled out the pistol tucked at his waist. At this point, all rules—the stylish man's protocols, any concern about attracting attention—were burned away by rage.

“You bastard, I’ll blow your head off!” the black-capped man shrieked, waving his gun at Hou Rui, but he had underestimated Hou Rui’s explosive will.

Faced with the lethal threat, Hou Rui, who had been limp and drained, suddenly surged up. Though his leap was no more than a frog’s hop, he managed to lunge at the black-capped man, grabbing his gun hand with one hand and, letting go of the pen, strangling his neck with the other.

In a blink, the two were locked in a desperate struggle on the floor, grappling for control.

In terms of brute strength, Hou Rui was no match for the black-capped man. As the gun in their struggle slowly rose, nearly pressing against Hou Rui’s face, the terror of imminent death drove Hou Rui to madness. He used humanity’s most primal weapon—his teeth.

With a savage cry, Hou Rui bit into the man’s neck, shaking his head like a wolf-dog, widening the wound and letting blood spurt between his teeth and splatter across the van.

When the stylish middle-aged man and the red-capped driver rushed back and peered through the open rear door, they saw Hou Rui clamped onto the black-capped man’s neck, blood streaming everywhere, while the latter convulsed in agony.

“Brother!” The driver beside the stylish man cried out, frantically drawing his pistol and disengaging the safety, ready to shoot Hou Rui.

But just as his finger squeezed the trigger, he felt a chill brush the back of his neck. Instantly, he realized—in this deserted wilderness, the only possible source of such cold was the terrifying middle-aged man, who must be standing behind him like a shadow.

What should he do? His brother was dying—should he not save him? But if he angered the middle-aged man, he too could vanish without a trace.

Reason and emotion waged fierce battle in his mind. In less than half a second, the veins at his temples bulged, his hands gripping the Type 64 pistol so tightly the tendons stood out. To him, those few seconds stretched into what felt like hours.

Finally, suppressing his brotherly instinct, he lowered the gun. The chill at his neck vanished. Meanwhile, Hou Rui, with a low growl, rose, holding a chunk of flesh he’d just torn from the black-capped man’s throat between his teeth.

The stylish middle-aged man nimbly sidestepped the red-capped driver and stood at the van door. He didn’t need to look at the wound to know the black-capped man was beyond saving. Naturally, he focused all his attention on the now limp Hou Rui.

The two stared at each other. When Hou Rui bared his bloodstained teeth in defiance, the stylish man spoke: “I like your eyes. They’re like a wild dog starved for a week—very aggressive.”

“Pah!” Hou Rui spat out the piece of flesh and glared at the man with renewed ferocity.

“Cut the crap. Killing one of you is enough for me.” After the brutal fight, Hou Rui’s whole body trembled; all he had left was his tough mouth.

“Is that so? Then what about her?” The man’s gaze drifted to Jin Shanshan.

“What are you planning?” Sensing the threat, Hou Rui grew tense, struggling to sit up and block Jin Shanshan.

“Well, since you killed him and cost me a man, you’ll take his place,” the stylish man replied, flashing a strange smile.

“Take his place doing what?”

“That’s not something you need to know.”

“What about my friend?”

“All I can tell you is, as long as you’re alive, she’ll stay alive too,” the stylish man shrugged indifferently.

Hou Rui’s mind raced once more. For now, survival was paramount; whatever might come next, he’d have to face it step by step.

“All right, I agree,” Hou Rui said, fixing his gaze on the stylish man and pronouncing each word deliberately.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll deceive you?” The stylish man’s smile grew wider.

“Anything’s better than dying right now!”

“Hahaha, I like you more and more. From now on, I’ll call you Wild Dog,” the stylish man said, evidently pleased with Hou Rui’s answer.