Era of Mist

Chapter 175: Chapter 174: Fake Traffic Cop, Real Big Bro

He shot a look at the lackeys beside him. Though he didn’t say a word, they understood him perfectly.

Go to that North Third Team, find that big lug, and teach him a lesson!

’Right, easy job. We’re pros at this.’

’Just... uh... we forgot to ask. Which precinct is the North Third Team? Anybody know?’

The sun was setting, and the towering traffic cop patrolled the streets. As the orange sun sank toward the horizon, the evening glow illuminated his rock-hard face, making him seem even more tall, imposing, and impartial. His massive frame was like the staunchest guardian of the traffic code, enforcing the rules on everyone, strictly by the book.

Hmph.

In truth, Shi Tiexin was a little shaken, but he couldn’t let it show on his face. That Ouyang Hong guy really did seem powerful and influential. He wondered if this would cause problems down the line. ’And besides, I’m clearly in a foreign country, yet so many Chinese speakers seem incredibly powerful and hold high status. What’s up with this place?’

Everything was shrouded in a fog he couldn’t see through. Shi Tiexin had originally planned to be more cautious.

But the guys shouting on the walkie-talkie didn’t seem to think it was a big deal at all. They showed no respect whenever they mentioned Ouyang Hong’s name, which made them sound pretty damn tough.

’Is my backing really that solid?’

’Or is there something else going on that I don’t know about?’

’Whatever. My guys are this fearless, so how can I, their leader, show any weakness? Besides, this feeling... it’s not bad at all.’ RUMBLE RUMBLE. The exhaust pipe vibrated, puffing out fumes. Shi Tiexin rode on at a steady pace, already starting to enjoy the feeling of a free ride.

His Good-level Driving Skill was slowly improving, advancing by leaps and bounds compared to his progress when studying math.

’Speaking of which, it’s evening, the sky is getting dark, and I’m getting a little hungry. Where am I supposed to go for dinner?’

”Boss! Boss!”

Guobing’s excited voice crackled over the walkie-talkie, ”Lanzai Fei and Cranky D have been dealt with! We’ve split up. See you at the old spot!”

’The old spot? Where’s the old spot?’

The lump of consciousness trembled, and understanding dawned on Shi Tiexin once more. He wrenched the handlebars and sped away.

Twenty minutes later, night had fallen. Shi Tiexin rode his motorcycle to a deep, narrow, old alleyway.

’This is the North Third Team?’

’It doesn’t look like it.’

Just as Shi Tiexin was wondering if the memories from his lump of consciousness were faulty, a small side door deep in the alley suddenly opened. A young punk with green hair, wearing a black leather jacket and wristbands, ran out. He waved from afar and shouted to Shi Tiexin, ”Boss, hurry! You’re the last one!”

Shi Tiexin was dumbfounded. ’What the hell is going on?’

’Do we traffic cops from the North Third Team all dress like this after our shifts?’

’Of course not!’

He tilted his head to listen. A thumping dance beat pulsed from the small doorway, along with a boiling clamor of mixed male and female voices. Thick smoke billowed out, fouling the air. The swirling haze was lit by lights from inside, flashing red, then blue.

Looking up, he saw a small sign above the door. Made of strip lights, it spelled out one word: Hellfire.

Shi Tiexin was certain this couldn’t possibly be the North Third Team.

The voice he’d faintly heard when he first crossed world lines had been solemn, resolute, unyielding, and steady. It carried an iron-willed aura of absolute confidence and self-discipline. It couldn’t possibly be related to this Hellfire place or the green-haired lackey before him.

And yet, he felt an undeniable familiarity with this place.

’It seems my identity in this world is somehow connected to this Hellfire bar.’

He glanced again at the motorcycle he had been riding. The description from its stats—”A high-speed motorcycle painted to look like a police bike”—resurfaced in his mind, sparking a theory.

’This ”paint job”... it could mean it’s supposed to look this way, or it could be a disguise. If it’s a disguise, a lot of the weirdness would suddenly make sense.’

The lump of consciousness shed a few more fragments, giving Shi Tiexin a slightly better grasp of the situation. This was his turf, no doubt about it. Acting on instinct, Shi Tiexin kicked down the stand and swung himself off the motorcycle. He tossed the keys to the green-haired punk, who immediately rode the painted police bike into the depths of the dim alley, kicking up a swirl of litter and debris.

’What a depressing and absurd place.’

He glanced at a newspaper on the ground, but it was covered in a foreign script he couldn’t read. Deciding not to get distracted, Shi Tiexin pulled open the ajar door. The clamor instantly swelled, and a world of hedonistic, flashing lights washed over him.

He stepped inside. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ

Inside was a bar with a semi-basement layout. It was a medium-sized place, maybe six or seven hundred square feet. He couldn’t tell if it was deliberately styled to look worn or if it was genuinely dilapidated. The exposed red bricks of the inner walls were clearly visible, lending it a decadent air. But this decay was drowned out by a boisterous racket; over forty men and women were reveling inside.

As far as Shi Tiexin could see, there were youths in black leather jackets and wristbands. They sported all kinds of flashy hairstyles—permed, dyed, or grown out long. There were also plenty of women in leather, maybe fifteen or sixteen in total. Most wore short leather vests that bared their midriffs and made no effort to hide their ample cleavage.

Some women even had tattoos on the upper swells of their breasts, mostly characters for words like ”Explode,” ”Rage,” or ”Blast.” The whole scene reeked of female delinquency.

When the youths saw Shi Tiexin appear, they all tensed up, looking as if they were about to grab for weapons. But once they got a clear look at the ”fake cop’s” true face, their expressions relaxed into broad smiles. Men and women alike, they all greeted him in unison.

”Boss!”

”Hey, Boss!”

”The Boss is here!”

Their accents were from all over, suggesting these youths had come from far and wide, but they all spoke Chinese.

’These are all my guys? Looks like I’m doing pretty well for myself in this world line.’

A scene like this might have intimidated someone else, but for the Iron Tyrant, this was familiar territory.

”Hn.”

With a simple nod, Shi Tiexin strode forward. Backed by the instincts from the lump of consciousness, his posturing gave off the full aura of a top boss, making it hard for anyone to meet his gaze.

”Whoa, how come the Boss has even more swagger than before?”

”Yeah, he seems way more imposing...”

”Of course he is! Haven’t you guys heard? The Boss is about to be promoted to Incense Master!”

The murmur of chatter rose around him, a chaotic and undisciplined undercurrent to the lively noise. Shi Tiexin’s face remained like stone, but his ears were pricked. He listened and analyzed, and from the sounds of it and the looks of the place, he concluded he must be some kind of gang leader.