Chapter 426 - 371: Mai Mingle’s Narrow Escape from Death at 76

Chapter 426: Chapter 371: Mai Mingle’s Narrow Escape from Death at 76

Mai Mingle regretted not wearing a hat or a scarf today.

To avoid being seen, she sat tucked away in a corner behind the coffee shop’s glass doors, craning her neck every so often to peer at the construction site across the street. Twenty, maybe thirty minutes had passed. She’d ordered several cups of coffee. The sky grew darker and the streets emptier, but there was still no sign of Ivan.

’Did I guess wrong?’

’Or did Ivan just run out of steam? After all, he was still recovering from his injuries.’

"It’s been pouring for two or three days straight. It’s just endless, SOB SOB SOB." The crying clerk seemed to be talking to himself as much as he was to his only customer. "SOB SOB SOB, it’s been pouring like this since the 3rd, you know? SOB SOB SOB, the river level has even risen."

Yet the water level in his own eyes remained low—not a tear in sight. But that didn’t stop him from sobbing with all his might.

"Yeah," Mai Mingle agreed, deciding she would ask to borrow the phone again to see where Hai Luwei was. "Excuse me, I’d like to—"

She hadn’t even finished her sentence when a phone started ringing—BRRING BRRING BRRING—from the staff-only room behind the shop.

"Hold on," the clerk said, sobbing tearlessly. "I’ll get the phone."

’Maybe that’s Hai Luwei calling back for me?’

At the thought, Mai Mingle quickly stood and walked over to the counter. She watched the clerk disappear behind the door and vaguely heard him answer, "SOB SOB SOB... Hello?" Hai Luwei would surely be taken aback by that.

But after several seconds, the clerk still hadn’t come out to get her. The call wasn’t for her, it seemed.

"Hm?... Yes, SOB SOB SOB."

Fragments of the conversation filtered through the door. It sounded like the clerk knew the caller. "That’s right, SOB SOB SOB... Yes, I can do that, SOB SOB SOB SOB SOB."

’He must be talking about work. He’s sobbing even more. Work is the kind of thing that makes a person want to sob their heart out.’

Since it had nothing to do with her, Mai Mingle felt it was rude to keep eavesdropping. She’d better get back to her seat before the clerk came out, lest he think she was some kind of person with ulterior motives...

’Still, it’s strange.’

’Wasn’t the person on the phone the least bit surprised by his constant sobbing?’

’They didn’t ask about it, not even once.’

’If the caller had asked him why he was crying, just as Mai Mingle had, the clerk would have surely explained, just as he had before—’

A soft click came from behind the counter. It sounded like the clerk had hung up.

’The clerk would have explained, just like before, "Why would I be crying?" right?’

The staff-only door swung open.

Her momentum carried Mai Mingle one more step forward.

’If Ivan really was coming for me, the only way he could have known my whereabouts was through the "workers behind the wall."’

’If there was a way for two... things, which might not even be human, to pass messages... then...’

As if compelled by some unseen force, Mai Mingle turned her head.

Somehow, the crying clerk had climbed onto the counter. He was poised like a giant spider, ready to pounce on his prey.

The moment their eyes met, his movements froze for a split second. For that one instant, Mai Mingle’s vision was filled with nothing but his face—a mask of overwrought grief, every muscle contorted and dragged downward.

"SOB SOB SOB," he said, bending his knees bit by bit. "Please don’t leave."

The next second, Mai Mingle spun around and ran.

A dull THUD shook the floor. The male clerk lunged, his rapid advance kicking up a wind so fierce it felt like it was trying to bite her; her scalp tingled with a phantom pain. The instant before his hand could grab her hair, she twisted away sharply, frantically ducking between two empty tables to her right.

The crying clerk rushed past her, taking two large strides to block the main entrance before turning around.

He glanced to his left at Mai Mingle, then turned his head to look at the corner opposite her—on the coffee table in the corner to the right of the main door sat several empty cups that had once held a latte and an espresso... and Mai Mingle’s bag.

’This was not good.’

’The gun was in her backpack. To get it, she would have to charge right past the clerk.’

The clerk stared at Mai Mingle unblinkingly, sobbing all the while, as he reached back without looking and flipped over the "Open" sign.

"Just in case," he said. "But luckily, after several days of downpour, the streets are empty."

"Wait, think about it," Mai Mingle said, backing away slowly. "The person who called you just now, do you really know them? We’re complete strangers. Holding me here against my will... that’s kidnapping."

Her lower back hit a coffee table, and Mai Mingle stopped. "What’s your name?"

For a moment, the crying clerk seemed stunned, his sorrowful expression faltering.

"What’s your name?" she asked again.

"My name is... My name is Josen..."

"What are your parents’ names?"

The young man before her was clearly human; she just didn’t know if his bizarre state was due to some influence from the construction site across the street. Mai Mingle had to make him remember his normal, human side. "Where’s your hometown?"

"Blackmoor State... Angela is my mom, and Jelin is my dad..."

He could talk, and he had memories. That was better than anything. Mai Mingle felt her heart steady slightly and pressed her advantage, "You work in a coffee shop. This is the service industry. You can’t imprison a customer, right?"

The crying clerk seemed stunned for a moment, then nodded. "You can’t imprison a customer. Of course not, SOB SOB SOB."

Mai Mingle was just about to breathe a sigh of relief. "Then, can you let me get my bag and go?"