Super Detective in the Fictional World - Chapter 688
Chapter 688: Nobody Gets Out Alive
Kincaid sneered. “What’s there to talk about with that sort of weird ass sh*t? Hm, zombie or vampire?”
Michael said, “Zombie! He won’t let us hit him in the head. He must be a zombie.”
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 guy’s back. “Tell me, who sent you? Don’t tell me it’s Dukhovich. He’s not one of you.”
The driver struggled weakly on the ground and yelled, “Your stick… is there something on it?”
Luke knocked him on the back of the head with the end of the rod. “Do you think I don’t know that you’re scared of silver weapons?”
As he hit the driver hard, the driver’s head let out some sparks, and he screamed. “You dare go up against us? We’ll get our revenge!”
Impatient, Luke picked up his Glock.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
A series of holes appeared in the driver’s stomach.
“I’m the one asking the questions now. Tell me the locations of your people, and I’ll get them to avenge you,” 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, “Get in, fellas. We’re in a hurry here.”
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, “Nobody gets out alive~”.
After a brief silence, Kincaid asked, “What the hell was that?”
Luke switched the lollipop from his left cheek to his right cheek. “Michael was wrong. Hitting a vampire in the head might not kill them, but it’ll still hurt and disfigure them, so of course he doesn’t want to be hit in the head.”
Michael couldn’t help but interject, “Are you very familiar with… vampires?”
Luke shook his head. “I’m not familiar with them, but I saw a guy called a daywalker hunt down and kill a bunch of them.”
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. “Why is Dukhovich working with vampires? Have you heard anything suspicious?”
After a brief silence, Michael shook his head.
Kincaid, however, said, “I once heard that Dukhovich would secretly send some ‘criminals’ who had gotten the death penalty to certain parts of Eastern Europe, and the people who received them were from certain private organizations.”
Luke hummed and didn’t say anything else.
It was quite possible that Dukhovich had been providing the vampires with “goods” in a mutually beneficial exchange.
It couldn’t be any easier for a person in power to pillage “goods.” 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, “How 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? I’m more willing to believe that they have people waiting at the docks.”
Luke didn’t say anything.
It was impossible for him to be tracked. The most important thing about his fake phone was that it couldn’t be used to monitor or locate him.
Also, he hadn’t 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. “What? I’m a victim. Do you think I would get someone to kill me?”
Thinking this, Michael couldn’t help but glance at the backseat in the rearview mirror.
Luke coughed and said, “My phone can’t be tracked, but I don’t know about yours.”
Michael shook his head decisively. “I’m using a ghost chip. There’s no way to trace the source…”
He looked at the baldie suspiciously. “Where did you get the gun just now?”
Kincaid shrugged. “I took it from a mercenary.”
Michael: “…You didn’t take his phone, did you?”
After a brief silence, Kincaid gave a hollow laugh. “…It was convenient.”
The car swayed on the road and Michael roared, “WTF! You’re still not throwing it away? Don’t you know that you can easily track the location of a phone chip? That’s why I’m using a ghost chip! It’s 2004, what century are you living in?”
Kincaid was displeased. “I’m an old man, but I’ll act as soon as I have a goal. I’m not like the two of you, hesitating and weighing the pros and cons, okay?”
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 didn’t 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 wasn’t wrong; the other party had indeed been tracking the phone and hadn’t 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 weren’t a large force, and couldn’t monitor all the docks in a short period of time.
There were definitely people watching the channel tunnel, which was why Michael didn’t 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. “It’s an energy drink! Hm, it’s nothing like the one in Michael’s car.”
Kincaid didn’t think anything of it. He accepted it and drank.
Luke gave Michael another bottle of coffee. “You’re still young. Have this to wake up.”
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 didn’t 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.
