chsdbacks Is Chapter 946 a Beginning or an End?
Is Chapter 946 a Beginning or an End?
The sound of the wind was particularly piercing amidst the howling of the broken carriages.
Baijiu looked at Vermouth, his throat bobbing, the difficult truth almost slipping out.
But Vermouth's gaze went past his shoulder, as if she had already seen through everything. She spoke first, her tone calm to the point of cruelty, yet tinged with a knowing tenderness:
"An umbrella can only be used by one person, right?"
She slightly twitched the corners of her mouth, forming an expression that wasn't quite a smile. "I found it when I was checking the package..."
Her directness shattered the last shred of hope.
Baijiu's heart sank suddenly, and all the words he tried to say to comfort or explain got stuck in his throat, turning into silent pain.
Seeing the struggle and reluctance surging in his eyes, Vermouth took a small step forward, closing the distance between them.
She raised her hand, not to touch him, but to make a reassuring gesture, her voice deliberately calm: "Don't worry, I can take care of myself."
However, a barely suppressed sob in her voice betrayed her outward composure: "That's how the plan was... Now that you have the key, you must leave."
Just then, rapid, hurried footsteps came from the connecting area between the rear carriages, accompanied by Kava's hoarse shout: "Over there! Don't let them get away!"
The situation has taken a turn for the worse!
The figures of Kava and Vodka appeared at the end of the passage, and the dark muzzles of guns instantly rose!
Kava is directly targeting baijiu (Chinese liquor)!
Not even a fraction of a second of hesitation!
Vermouth looked at Baijiu deeply, a look that contained a thousand words—reluctance, resolve, admonition, and unreserved trust.
The next second, she turned around sharply and resolutely used her slender but firm body to block the liquor and the gun barrel!
She simultaneously raised her hands high, her posture clear and unmistakable—she had given up resistance and was accepting arrest.
"Let's go!" she urged sharply, her back to him.
He took one last look at her straight, yet incredibly lonely back, as if trying to etch this moment into the depths of his soul.
Then, he let out a low growl like a wounded beast, and without hesitation, he leaped backward and jumped off the precipice!
A strong sense of weightlessness instantly enveloped him, and the howling wind filled his ears.
He struggled to adjust his posture as he fell, and just seconds after his body began to fall and he was about to lose control, he suddenly pulled the parachute release line!
Bang!
The parachute deployed successfully, and the immense drag lifted him sharply upwards! He gripped the control lines tightly, swaying violently in the wind, and instinctively looked up—
The broken edges of the carriage grew farther and farther away, smaller and smaller in the field of vision.
Kava watched helplessly as the white wine's silhouette grew smaller and smaller in the canyon's howling winds, eventually disappearing into the depths of the swirling clouds.
The veins on his forehead bulged instantly, and his entire face twitched violently with extreme anger and frustration, turning as red as a pig's liver.
Once again! Once again, this damn liquor slipped right under my nose!
And in such a humiliating way—jumping off a cliff!
The open paraglider seemed to be a silent mockery of him.
"Bastard!!" He roared like a beast, all his reason consumed by rage.
Unable to stand by and watch his target escape again, he charged like a raging bull toward the broken end of the carriage, roughly shoving Vermouth, who was blocking his way, aside.
Vermouth was pushed off balance by his powerful force and fell heavily onto the cold, hard ground. A sharp pain shot through her elbow, but she only let out a muffled groan before quickly sweeping her calm, slightly mocking gaze over Kava's back, which was contorted with impotent rage.
"Kava!" Vodka hissed, seemingly trying to calm him down, but to no avail.
He had no choice but to quickly step forward and help Vermouth up from the ground. His movements were relatively restrained, but his eyes were full of vigilance.
However, just as he helped Vermouth up, Vodka caught a glimpse of a silent, ashen-faced figure on the sofa not far away—it was Kiel!
Vodka's expression changed abruptly, and he no longer cared about Vermouth or the kava that was venting its anger on the cliff edge. He immediately released her and practically pounced on Kiel, his thick fingers, with an urgency that seemed disproportionate to his size, swiftly and accurately pressing on the artery in her neck.
Beneath my fingertips, I felt a faint, almost imperceptible pulse.
Thank goodness! She still has a pulse! Although it's extremely weak, she's still alive!
Vodka's usually expressionless face showed a rare hint of panic.
He knelt on one knee and extended his large, calloused hands, usually used to holding guns, but unusually gentle at this moment.
Gently patting Kiel's cold cheek, her voice unconsciously lowered and slowed, carrying an almost clumsy gentleness: "Wake up... Kiel! Listen, don't sleep! Hold on!"
His tone was filled with anxiety.
The kava roared futilely at the abyss, its anger gradually replaced by a cold sense of defeat as the liquor completely disappeared.
He was panting heavily, forcing himself to calm down, and turned back to the messy carriage.
His gaze swept across the scene, finally settling on Vermouth, who was sitting there alone.
He recalled his rough shoving in his haste, and his heart sank slightly.
Although he had never worked directly with Vermouth, he had spent many years in the organization and knew that this "Thousand-Faced Witch" had a special status and unfathomable background, and was not someone he could easily offend.
A pang of regret swept through him; he needed to make amends.
Kava tried to keep his expression calm as he walked towards Vermouth, stopping in front of her and extending his rough hand. His tone was deliberately softened: "The situation was urgent earlier, please forgive my rudeness. Are you alright?"
Vermouth looked at the outstretched hand, her face expressionless, neither accepting nor rejecting, as if scrutinizing it.
In that brief pause, another hand wearing a black leather glove reached out from behind the cava, more quickly and precisely, with force, grasping Vermouth's slightly raised wrist.
Kava was taken aback. Following the hand, he saw Gin appear beside him like a ghost, his long silver hair gleaming coldly in the swaying light of the carriage.
Gin didn't even look at Kava; his dark green pupils, like a venomous snake locking onto its prey, were fixed on Vermouth's face.
He gripped Vermouth's wrist with great force, almost like a clamp.
That face, always covered in frost, was now burning with the raging anger of being fooled, especially when he saw that Vermouth was not disguised and was showing her true face. The feeling of having his authority challenged reached its peak.
Gin spat out cold words through clenched teeth, each syllable seemingly chilled by ice: "Isn't this better?"
A cold, almost ferocious smile curled at the corner of his mouth. "Use your true face... and we'll face to face."
He emphasized the words "face to face" heavily, making them sound threatening.
The surrounding air seemed to drop to freezing point instantly. Even Vodka, who had just gotten up, subconsciously stopped taking care of Kiel and looked over nervously.
Vermouth's wrist was gripped, but she showed no sign of panic; her eyes were calm, even carrying a hint of mockery.
“Gin,” Vermouth spoke up first, “Saliva said you’re someone we can trust.”
"Oh?" Gin sneered. "So that's what he said about me."
“He also said that you will definitely give me a choice.” Vermouth smiled slightly.
“This is really interesting,” Gin said indifferently.
“And I choose to accept it,” Vermouth retorted with a chilling edge.
We can never escape the past.
Some people are destined to repeat the same mistakes.
Vermouth might feel that you saved her and rewrote her destiny.
But you and I both know that you've only bought her a little more time.
But hasn't it always been like this?
There are always heavy burdens on your shoulders, and the closer someone is to you, the harder it is to save their life.
The wind was whistling in my ears.
Below us stretched the dark green forests of the rolling Alps.
Baijiu gripped the control ropes tightly with both hands, subtly adjusting his direction with the airflow. The huge paraglider, like the wings of an eagle, carried him through the air in an elegant and precise arc, gliding towards the predetermined coordinates.
After several skillful "S"-shaped turns to slow down, a tranquil, sapphire-like lake, surrounded by steep mountain peaks, came into view.
A small, flat meadow by the lake.
That was the agreed meeting point.
When the opportunity arises, pull the liquor down and backward with both hands simultaneously.
The paraglider's wing area decreases instantly, causing a sudden increase in descent speed.
When he was about ten meters above the ground, he pulled the brakes again. The parachute generated tremendous drag, which abruptly slowed his descent.
Immediately afterwards, he bent his knees slightly and took a few steps forward the instant his feet touched the soft grass, perfectly dissipating the impact.
Once he was in position, he immediately and skillfully gathered the parachute lines, quickly folded and packed up the huge canopy, all in one smooth motion without any hesitation.
The entire landing process was calm and precise, demonstrating extremely professional competence.
Just as he took off his parachute, a deep voice came from the shadows of the trees to his side: "Very punctual."
The newcomer was McCallum, who opened his arms and embraced the white wine.
Baijiu raised the key and handed it to McCallum. Instead of embracing him, he wearily walked towards the vast grassland behind him.
McCallen stared in shock at the key in his hand. He couldn't believe that Baijiu had actually done it; he had really gotten the key back!
A new day brings new responsibilities.
The key is just the beginning.
Wherever it takes you.
Whatever the cost along the way.
You have to face it all alone.
If this operation fails, then the intelligent entity will win.
Rum will also win.
And this world will pay the ultimate price.
If anyone in the team is arrested or killed, their sacrifices will be in vain and serve no purpose.
So... let's get moving!
Time is running out.
Although the world is unaware of this, its fate rests in your hands.
good luck.
Liquor.