novelsite Chapter 91 Leaving a Letter
Chapter 91 Leaving a Letter
Wang Zhengyang quickly assessed the situation in the room. Four people, three seriously injured, one moderately injured. But even in this state, their combat skills were still astonishing—their coordinated reaction just now showed that this was a professional team capable of turning the tide in desperate situations. If it were the Iron Hand Gang thugs searching this room, even if they were seriously injured, they would at least lose five or six lives.
"You need medical care," Wang Zhengyang said.
“We know,” Victor said with a wry smile, “but we can’t get out. The Iron Hands have been searching the area all day; we’ll be spotted as soon as we show our faces. And…” He glanced at Peter, “he can’t go much further in his current state.”
Wang Zhengyang thought for a few seconds. "I have a place that's safe, has medical equipment, and your niece is waiting for you there."
Victor's eyes lit up for a moment, but then dimmed: "How do we get over there? The outside is full of Iron Hand gangsters."
"I have a plan," Wang Zhengyang said, "but I need your cooperation. Those who can leave should leave as much as possible, and I'll help those who can't. We'll relocate them in batches to reduce the number of people we can target."
"Now?"
"Now." Wang Zhengyang glanced at his watch. It was 6:40 PM. It was already dark, and the rain was still falling. "Rain and darkness provide the best cover. The Iron Hand Gang has been searching all day, and now they're at their most exhausted."
Victor glanced at his companion lying on the ground, gritted his teeth, and said, "Fine. I'll do as you say."
"But before we leave," Wang Zhengyang said, "we need to leave a message for Andrei. If he comes back and can't find you, he'll assume you've been arrested or killed."
Viktor nodded and pulled a small notebook and a short pencil from his pocket. Without turning on the light, he quickly wrote a few lines of symbols in the dark, relying on his senses—not Russian, nor any common script, but a coding system composed of dots, lines, and simple geometric shapes.
Wang Zhengyang noticed that even in his severely injured and weakened state, Victor's hands remained steady, and he drew each symbol clearly and accurately.
"Is this your internal communication code?" Wang Zhengyang asked.
Victor didn't answer directly, only saying, "The boss can understand it. The others... even if they find it, they can't decipher it."
After he finished writing, he tore the paper off and folded it into a small square. "Where should I put it?"
Wang Zhengyang surveyed the room, his gaze quickly sweeping over several hidden spots. Finally, he pointed to a loose brick in the corner: "There. There's a gap behind the brick. Tuck the note in there, then put the brick back in place. I'll use my fingernail to make three almost invisible shallow marks along the edge of the grout line—arranged in an equilateral triangle."
Victor did as instructed. He slipped the note into the crack between the bricks and carefully pushed the brick back into place. Wang Zhengyang walked over and used his fingernail to draw three tiny marks along the edge of the crack, so fine they were almost invisible unless you looked closely.
"Treat the wound now." Wang Zhengyang took out some basic medical supplies from his bag—these were from the train's medical reserves, and although there weren't many, they were much better than what they were doing now.
He first re-bandaged Victor's arm, applying hemostatic powder and antibacterial ointment. Then he examined Peter's wound, which was indeed infected and suppurating, requiring immediate debridement.
"He needs antibiotics and surgery," Wang Zhengyang said.
"But we didn't..." Victor's voice was filled with helplessness.
"My place has professional surgeons," Wang Zhengyang said, "so we must leave as soon as possible."
After treating the wounds, Wang Zhengyang began to formulate an evacuation plan. Although Sergei had a head injury, he could still walk with difficulty. Maxim had a broken leg and needed assistance. Peter was completely unconscious and had to be carried.
"I'll take Viktor and Sergei out first," Wang Zhengyang said. "My men will be there to meet you; they'll take you to a temporary safe spot. Then I'll come back for Maxim and Peter."
"You're carrying two people by yourself?" Victor frowned.
Wang Zhengyang didn't answer. Instead, he walked to Maxim's side, squatted down, lifted Maxim's injured leg with one hand, and supported his shoulder with the other. With a slight lift, Maxim's entire body was smoothly placed on Wang Zhengyang's back. The whole process was so smooth, as if it had been rehearsed countless times, that Maxim didn't even have time to cry out in pain.
Victor's expression changed. He knew Maxim's weight—at least 85 kilograms—and with a broken leg, moving would be even more difficult. Wang Zhengyang's movements just now demonstrated not only strength, but also a precise understanding of body mechanics and the injured man's condition.
"Do you believe it now?" Wang Zhengyang put Maxim down and asked calmly.
Victor nodded slowly: "I believe you."
The three retraced their steps. The stairs were narrow, and each step had to be taken with care. Victor was heavy, and most of his weight rested on Wang Zhengyang, but Wang Zhengyang's steps remained steady.
Upon reaching the entrance of the back alley, Wang Zhengyang signaled to stop. He went out to scout the area first, and only after confirming that there was nothing unusual did he call the two men out.
The rain was still falling, its chill stinging my face. There were no lights in the back alley, only the faint glow of distant streetlights filtering through the rain.
Wang Zhengyang whispered into the walkie-talkie, "Li Ming, we're out. We're at the back alley entrance, get ready to meet us."
"Received. The vehicle is in position and will arrive in thirty seconds."
Thirty seconds later, the gray Volkswagen sedan silently glided to the alley entrance. Li Ming got out of the car and helped Viktor and Sergei into it.
"The safe spot is ready," Li Ming told Wang Zhengyang. "There's an abandoned auto repair shop two blocks to the east. I've checked it; it's safe for now."
"Okay," Wang Zhengyang said. "Take them there, I'll go back and pick up the other two."
"careful."
The car drove away and disappeared into the rain.
Wang Zhengyang turned and went back to the basement. This time, only Maxim and the unconscious Peter remained. Maxim's leg injury prevented him from walking, and he had to rely entirely on Wang Zhengyang.
"Are you ready?" Wang Zhengyang asked.
Maxim nodded, but his eyes were filled with pain. The pain from his broken leg was constant, and every movement was torture.
Wang Zhengyang squatted down, let Maxim lie on his back, and then used the prepared strips of cloth to secure the two together. Then, he lifted Peter with one arm—the unconscious person was particularly heavy, but Wang Zhengyang's arm was as steady as cast iron.
One person, carrying two adult men on their backs, with a total weight exceeding 150 kilograms. An ordinary person wouldn't even be able to stand up. But Wang Zhengyang adjusted his breathing, slightly activating his supernatural ability, which reduced the burden somewhat.
He started walking outside.
Every step was difficult. The stairs were narrow, the load was too heavy, and he had to be constantly aware of his surroundings. Sweat mixed with rainwater, soaking his clothes.
We finally reached the back alley entrance. The rain intensified, and visibility was extremely low, but this also meant greater safety.
Wang Zhengyang called Li Ming on the walkie-talkie: "The second group is out, come and provide backup."
"Received, it's on its way."
The wait felt incredibly long. Wang Zhengyang stood in the shadows at the alley entrance, carrying two wounded men on his back, rain constantly lashing his face. He could feel Maxim's breathing growing weaker and Peter's temperature rising—the infection was worsening.
Just then, he heard something.
It wasn't the sound of a car, but footsteps. More than one person was walking from the other end of the street.