Chapter 835 - 6: Ronald Loy_2

Wear out iron shoes searching everywhere, only to find it without any effort.

After searching so arduously for so long, who would've thought the answer would come from a homeless man by the roadside.

Ronald felt there was finally light after darkness; if Chen Zhou weren't dressed so filthy, he would have hugged him.

Once he was sure the homeless man had seen his daughter, Ronald kept asking Chen Zhou if he knew whose house the pickup was parked at, and whether he recognized the pickup truck driver.

But Chen Zhou knew nothing about Prescott or even all of Arkansas, so naturally he couldn't give any concrete answer.

Still, with the info they had now, it was plenty—at least they weren't wandering about blindly like headless flies, searching with no clue.

As he mulled over where to spend the night, how to report to the police tomorrow, telegraph his ex-wife, track down the pickup driver, and find his own car to get his money and all, Ronald unconsciously led Chen Zhou down to the end of the street.

This was basically already nearly outside town; hardly any houses nearby, making the place feel oddly empty, only the motel bright with lights, noisy inside.

The vehicles parked outside the motel were mostly motorcycles, only two sedans, neither as new as Ronald's Chevrolet; besides those, just a few old pickups and a military truck converted for civilian use.

Seeing the pickups, Ronald hurriedly asked Chen Zhou if the one that took his daughter was there.

Walking along, Chen Zhou kept chatting with Ronald, imitating his US accent, but he wasn't idle—he pried open a soda bottle and drank while stuffing bread in his mouth to ease the discomfort brought by his gene modification.

Maybe enough time had passed since the medicine injection. At least as of now, after two pieces of bread and finishing a whole bottle of soda, Chen Zhou felt not only did the discomfort disappear, but there was a sense of lost strength returning to his body.

...

He glanced at the cars parked below the motel and told Ronald that the one he saw that morning wasn't among them.

While talking, Chen Zhou and Ronald were nearly at the motel entrance.

Yet when bad luck hits, nothing goes smoothly.

Motel accepting people of color often rejected white folks—Ronald, dressed like some social elite, had just appeared at the motel entrance when a tall, bulky Black drunk staggered out.

The man wore a dark blue coverall, had a baseball cap on sideways, swaying a bit, at first going to his car, but when he saw Ronald, headed straight for him and Chen Zhou.

Muttering indistinct Black music under his breath.

He seemed not to see Chen Zhou and Ronald at all, grinning to reveal a mouthful of white teeth, about to piss on them.

"Trouble. We oughta dodge."

After getting burned by thugs earlier, Ronald had learned; seeing the situation turn bad, he immediately told Chen Zhou to avoid the drunk.

Thinking it best to avoid more trouble, Chen Zhou nodded and followed Ronald aside.

But the Black guy was clearly out for trouble and wasn't about to let them go. Seeing them dodge, he pulled up his pants and chased after them, looking like he was intent on pissing on them no matter what.

Ronald rummaged through his clothes, realizing he was flat broke, and asked Chen Zhou,

"You got any money? Give him some to get rid of him."

To his surprise, the homeless man who'd agreed mere moments ago to keep things peaceful gave no response, only straightening up silently.

...

As Chen Zhou straightened his back, Ronald realized the homeless man beside him wasn't just tall.

The approaching Black guy was nearly 180 cm, but standing before this homeless man seemed like a kid still growing up.

Chen Zhou wasn't just tall—his shoulders were broad, his arms stretched impressively long. If the coat from the pickup wasn't a winter outer layer designed extra loose, he couldn't even get it on.

Ronald had seen many big guys, but never before one with Chen Zhou's build.

He wasn't stupid. Standing next to Chen Zhou, just by looking, he knew this person wasn't ordinary, and his family couldn't possibly be as poor as he made it seem—

Families in poverty don't raise people this big.

Plus, Chen Zhou had a steadiness in his words that no vagrant could fake.

...

"Get lost."

Already decided not to stay at this motel, Chen Zhou had no more scruples.

Facing the Black drunk as he got closer, he gave a "polite" warning.

If it were anyone else, seeing Chen Zhou taller and tougher, the guy might have backed off.

But booze had scrambled his judgment; he couldn't tell danger, no sense for avoiding trouble.

Hearing the warning, the drunk only reflexively got angry, swearing obscenely, not caring that his pants kept falling, stepped up and swung his fist.

Even if his body was normal, that punch wouldn't have hurt Chen Zhou, let alone now, with his physical state slightly recovered.

To Chen Zhou's eyes, the Black man's movement was slow as a snail, making it effortless for him to block the punch and "respond".

To avoid killing anyone, Chen Zhou had already held back as much as possible with this punch.

Even so, he'd underestimated his own strength.

The Black guy took the blow to the side of his face—the not-so-high nose bent visibly on impact, blood immediately streaming from his nostrils.

The man didn't even make a sound, just toppled with a dull thud, out cold.

The sudden fight startled Ronald; once he came to, the Black man had already been dragged by Chen Zhou over to the side by an old pickup.

Watching Chen Zhou expertly unbutton the drunk's clothes to search for valuables, Ronald suddenly felt helping this guy stay wasn't a wise decision.

But thinking of the clues the vagrant had provided and his skills, and their proximity, Ronald didn't dare back out—

He didn't know if the Black guy was just unconscious or dead, only knew the homeless man would have an easier time dealing with him than with the drunk.

...

"Problem solved!"

Chen Zhou wiped his hands with the Black man's shirt, showing off his spoils to Ronald proudly—

Four US Dollars and a dozen coins.

Facing the "homeless man" again, Ronald could no longer keep up his previous composure.

He increasingly felt Chen Zhou gave off an unusual aura, like a veteran from the Second World War, but fiercer and more mysterious than that.

Even dressed like a destitute vagrant, Ronald felt Chen Zhou seemed less a "homeless man" and more a killer waiting for his chance.

Dealing with a guy like this wasn't easy; for a moment, Ronald's smile froze on his face.

"Are we still staying at this motel?"

He sought Chen Zhou's opinion.

"Of course, why not stay?"

Chen Zhou pointed to the Black man lying on the ground.

"Relax, he's not dead. Once he sleeps it off, he'll go away on his own. Maybe he'll even forget what happened here, thinking he just crashed into a car."

"Is that so..."

Ronald smiled ambiguously, looked at the Black man again, and then led Chen Zhou into the motel.

With Ronald vouching, Chen Zhou quickly checked in, getting a room at the end of the first-floor hallway.

Knowing Chen Zhou still had cash, Ronald confidently borrowed four US Dollars from him.

Chen Zhou, the "homeless man," proved generous enough, handing over the money without hesitation, then slipped into his room and shut the door tight.

When Ronald left the motel with the money to search for a temporary place in town, the window of the end room was flung open, a dark figure leaped out, melted into the night, and vanished in a blink—

The continued stay was merely Chen Zhou's fa?ade for this driver.

He didn't trust anyone here. After hastily grabbing a clean bedsheet from the motel, he immediately returned to the burned-down house.

At least for now, nobody had their eyes on it yet.