Chapter 427 - 371: Mai Mingle: A Narrow Escape from Death at 76 (Part 2)

Chapter 427: Chapter 371: Mai Mingle: A Narrow Escape from Death at 76 (Part 2)

The wailing clerk’s eyes, devoid of any redness, drifted to her face. "Okay... you’re right."

’See? Who says communication is useless? We live in a society, and the most important thing is communication—’

"Come on over," the wailing clerk beckoned to her.

Mai Mingle froze.

"The door’s behind me."

The crying expression on his face was slowly starting to lift. The corners of his mouth rose fastest, so fast it almost became a smile. "If you want to get out, then come over here. Boo hoo hoo."

’It’s hopeless.’

Without another word, Mai Mingle strode to the coffee table, raised her foot, and kicked it forward with all her might. Pain shot up her sole and calf, but the table didn’t budge an inch.

’Why would a coffee shop bolt its tables to the floor?! Are they afraid people will steal them or something?’

She didn’t even have time to cry out in pain before the clerk’s shadow fell over her, a dark cloud obscuring half the ambient light. Mai Mingle scrambled to grab a chair—at least this damned thing wasn’t bolted down. With no time to aim, she swung it blindly in his direction. It connected, making him cry out as he reflexively grabbed the chair.

Mai Mingle gritted her teeth and yanked back, but couldn’t free it. A foot shot out from under the chair, completely catching her by surprise.

Even though she reacted in time, letting go and leaping back, she couldn’t fully evade the blow. He kicked her in the abdomen. Mai Mingle stumbled back a couple of steps. Despite the dull ache, she managed to keep her balance. The only problem was that now, she was even farther from the door and her backpack.

"Listen to me!"

Seeing the clerk lift the chair and come after her again, she turned and fled deeper into the shop. She tried several times to get around him and lunge for her backpack, but he blocked her at every turn. "Holding me captive isn’t your own idea—"

"I’m not listening! I’m not listening!" the wailing clerk shrieked. "La la la la, boo hoo hoo, I can’t hear you!"

If the situation hadn’t been so critical, Mai Mingle might have laughed out of sheer exasperation.

She had no idea if this clerk worked out regularly, but she considered herself to be in good shape, with decent stamina and strength. Yet that brief struggle over the chair had been enough to show her the disparity in power between them.

’Fight? I can’t win. Run? My path is blocked. The gun? I can see it but can’t reach it...’ No, as Mai Mingle continued to retreat deeper into the shop, she lost sight of the backpack entirely.

"Wait!" she called out. "I won’t leave. Is that okay?"

The clerk, who had just raised the chair high as if to throw it at her, paused.

The shadows cast by the chair legs sliced his increasingly chaotic expression into several pieces.

"I’ll stay voluntarily. I promise I won’t run. Just let me get my backpack, and then I’ll sit back down and drink my coffee... Surely that’s not a problem, right?"

The clerk considered it. "No."

His next words came as the chair flew through the air, whistled past Mai Mingle’s ear, and smashed into the wall with a CRASH. It was almost impossible to hear him say, "Who knows if you have a gun in your bag today, *too*? It’s safer when you’re half-dead. Boo hoo hoo."

’What did he mean by "too"?’

Mai Mingle forgot to breathe, a fire raging in her chest and mind. As she saw him grab another chair, with nowhere left to dodge, she dove behind the coffee shop counter.

’The clerk’s tone... he sounded like he knew she usually kept a gun in her bag. They were complete strangers; there’s no way he could know that on his own. The only possibility is that the person who called him told him.’

’It had to be Ivan.’

’The wall workers must have told Ivan where I was headed, and then Ivan contacted the clerk. He ordered the clerk to hold me here, even if he had to leave me half-dead, until he arrived...’

Without her even realizing it, the strange, bizarre entities of Blackmoor City had gradually formed an information network.

The dread Mai Mingle felt for the future was instantly replaced by the wailing clerk himself—with a running start, he planted his hands on the counter and vaulted gracefully on top of it.

’With moves like that, isn’t he a bit overqualified to be a barista?’

Mai Mingle couldn’t think of a better plan, so she turned to run once more—but this was where her luck ran out.

The clerk leaped down and grabbed her far faster than she’d anticipated. Mai Mingle took a step forward to run, but a powerful force yanked her backward. She lost her balance instantly, tumbling back toward him.

One of the clerk’s hands held a tight grip on the back of her shirt, while his other arm snaked around her neck. It tightened rapidly, his muscles bulging as he pressed down hard on her windpipe.

"Boo hoo hoo, finally got you," his face pressed against the top of her head. His arm squeezed tighter and tighter, and soon, a buzzing in her ears drowned out his words. "Half... half-dead... choke you half-dead..."

Her vision blurred and dimmed. Mai Mingle kicked and thrashed, her hands flailing and clawing, trying to gouge out his eyes.

But she couldn’t get the right angle, and he twisted his head to evade her each time. Meanwhile, the arm around her neck was like an iron clamp, crushing her windpipe until it felt as thin as a flattened drinking straw.

’What do I do—what’s around me, is there anything—’

The space behind the coffee shop counter was neat and orderly; there was nothing within reach to grab and smash.

’No... I absolutely cannot pass out here and wait for Ivan to arrive...’

’I’ve escaped from so many perilous Nests. I refuse to meet my end in Blackmoor City... There are still so many, so many wonderful things in the world...’

She didn’t know if it was true that your life flashes before your eyes in a moment of mortal peril, but in that instant, Mai Mingle saw herself walking up to this very counter, again and again, ordering coffee from the clerk.

’Ordering coffee... Why am I thinking about that?’

’I ordered a latte... and later an espresso... because I’d been sitting for so long I felt awkward...’

From within the prison of bulging, straining muscle, Mai Mingle’s eyes snapped open.

The espresso machine.

When she’d ordered that espresso earlier, she had watched the clerk operate the machine. It wasn’t much different from any other coffee maker she had seen or used in her life.

The machine was right beside her.

A new surge of desperate energy coursed through her, and she began to struggle wildly once more.

This time, she wasn’t fighting the arm around her neck. She was desperately fumbling for the espresso machine beside them. Ironically, the clerk was so focused on choking her into unconsciousness that he seemed to have no idea what she was doing.

It was only when a familiar GURGLING sound started up from the espresso machine that the wailing clerk froze for a second.

"What...?"

Mai Mingle didn’t give him a chance to react.

She kicked against the counter, using her own body weight to force the clerk to turn just slightly. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Mai Mingle grabbed the espresso machine’s steam wand and viciously jammed it into the wailing clerk’s face.

The machine, built to blast out coffee with high pressure and heat, instantly spewed clouds of white-hot steam. She couldn’t even see exactly where she’d scalded him. Through his agonized screams, Mai Mingle felt the grip on her neck finally loosen. Ignoring the searing pain in her own scalded hand, she broke free of his arm, turned, and bolted from behind the counter.

The wailing clerk was clearly badly injured, still howling in agony. By the time Mai Mingle had grabbed her backpack and was running for the door, he still hadn’t managed to get to his feet.

’I’m sorry,’ Mai Mingle thought. Her counterattack had been successful, but she felt no satisfaction. This kid was being manipulated; attacking her hadn’t been his intention, yet he was the one suffering such terrible consequences.

’If I get the chance in the future, maybe I can bring a healing Illusion back for him...’

It was only as she shoved the glass door open that she belatedly realized someone was standing just to the side of the entrance.

A man.

The instant Mai Mingle turned her head, she felt herself fall, dazed, back into the year 2016.

She was seventy-six years old. She couldn’t run anymore.