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Chapter 135: "Bǎ nà gāisǐ de qiāng fàngxià!"
The driver’s hand twitched. The young man was scared, but the driver did not seem to care. “You heard the kid, Siu. Bǎ nà gāisǐ de qiāng fàngxià!” he screamed. But the man seemed to have other plans. “Hey, I will shoot him and shoot you and grab your money and sell your fucking heart, you hear me? I don’t care about him. And you. You all can die for all I care. What I care about is the dough! Tā mā de qián!” With that, the man followed his instinct. He pressed his finger against the trigger… And he pulled it, aiming at Miles. But his aim was bad. So bad that the bullet flew straight into his neighbour’s head and lodged into his forehead. Miles gasped, but was not shocked. This was a usual sight. And perhaps, even to the driver. He didn’t seem to care that he had just shot his neighbour, and the poor dude was lying on the floor, in a pool of his own blood. He raised the gun at Miles. “You huh… tell me… how… how do I become a model? Nǐmen bù huì shēngbìng, shuāilǎo huò sǐwáng.
Chapter 134: Ambushed
Then the driver stood up. "I'll be right back," he said. "Just need to speak with my neighbor. About… something." Miles watched him go, a knot forming in his stomach again. The something. It was always the something that you had to watch out for. He looked around the cottage. It was small, cramped, filled with old furniture and strange knick-knacks. There was a photo on the mantlepiece of the driver with a woman and a young boy. A family. It looked… normal. But something felt off. The air was too still. The silence was too heavy. He remembered the golden card, still tucked safely in his pocket. The card that was supposed to be his ticket out. Out of anything, really. To pay the bills, rent an apartment, buy a car, and… “Oh, I need a phone. I still have Galy’s number. I should check up on him and thank him.” he set an alarm clock in his head. The card that had gotten him here. And he remembered what everyone said about the "models." That they were special. That they were different
Chapter 133: 山頂道 Peak Road
The drive was longer than expected. The driver would stop at certain points to either make some random calls or buy some things, which he would put in his booth. Miles did not pay attention to any of that. As a matter of fact, he was lost in a swirl of thoughts, a muddle of recent days and whispered fears. The golden card felt heavy against his thigh, a secret he wasn’t quite sure what to do with. Was it real? Or had he dreamed the whole encounter with the American? A fancy car, a man with eyes like a winter sky, offering escape with a flick of a tiny rectangle. It sounded like something out of those cheap movies the older boys used to talk about, the ones they’d heard whispers of from the city folk who came to the factories. He glanced out the window, the blur of the city lights a stark contrast to the grey stillness of the bunker. Each streetlight was a tiny firefly, each passing car a brief whoosh of the outside world, a world that felt more and more like a fever dream. How l
Chapter 132: Lost Kid
A group of boys, maybe seven or eight in total, surrounded him from every direction. Three from the mouth of the alley. Two more from behind. One dropped down from the rusted metal roof above like a cat. They all looked his age, maybe older—but their eyes weren’t young. Their eyes had seen things. Hard things. Street things. They were dǎitús, triads. They held iron rods, wooden batons wrapped in electrical tape, and two of them had crude knives glinting beneath the flickering alley light. “You,” one of them snarled, the tallest, with a scar over his lip. “You a Model, huh? You one of them?” He asked in his dialect. Miles blinked, his dumpling halfway to his mouth. “Part of that lab trash? What are you doing here, jīqìrén?” the boy spat. “You look real. You feel real. But you’re an expired product, huh?” Another boy chuckled, flipping a blade open. “Well, guess what—your organs still work. And they sell for big money on these streets.” Miles stood up slowly, his dumplings now
Chapter 131: Sweet Tasty Dumplings
Miles was not sure whether leaving the mansion was the right decision. First of all, he was just seconds away from dying. Literally seconds away from being thrown into the dreaded pit. But the American saved him. Galy saved his life. Galy saved the lives of everyone in that bunker, in that deserted, smelly, horrible bunker, on that island. Galy did not stop there. He went as far as giving him special treatment. Clothing him, probably injecting him with a substance that boosted his muscles, sharpened his jawline, and even sharpened his eyesight. He pulled out the card that was handed to him. He really did not know how to use the credit card. But all he knew was that 500 million yen was a huge money. He did not know how huge it was, but he knew it was huge. He could probably use it to rent an apartment and then find a job. So Miles thought. Soon, Miles found himself in the city. In Hong Kong City. His home. His true home. Things had really changed. The best recent view of the
Chapter 130: "Stop Bowing To Me!"
His face was… sharper. Cheekbones pronounced, skin smooth, eyes clear but intense. His body looked like it had been sculpted in his sleep. Like he had gone to the gym during his coma. He looked like the kind of person he used to fear. “What the hell is happening to me?” he whispered. But he didn’t wait for an answer. He pushed the door open. The hallway that met him was ridiculous—gold trim on the walls, enormous chandeliers, floor polished enough to see his reflection. Paintings of ancient men and modern legends hung side by side. And there it was—Tian Lou. The painting was so detailed that it looked like the musician could step out of it. His idol. The man whose songs kept him alive in that hellhole. The man he so badly wanted to be like. This wasn’t just luxury. This was god-tier. And yet, Miles turned his back to it all. He knew what he had to do. He would leave. Find work. Build himself up. He stepped into the living room—and it was somehow even more outrageous. Black m
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