Chapter 41 - 37: Do You Remember How Many Slices of Bread You’ve Eaten?
Chapter 41: Chapter 37: Do You Remember How Many Slices of Bread You’ve Eaten?
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「Late at night.」
Outside a lumber mill in the Jinzhu Suburb, two men standing guard eyed the uninvited guest at the warehouse entrance warily.
“I’m here to see Han Laohu.”
Filtered through a voice changer, Zhou Chen’s voice came out low and distorted.
He was dressed in a black shirt and black pants, wearing a hockey mask that completely covered his face. He’d even applied black eyeshadow around his eyes, so the round eyeholes of the mask revealed nothing but a pitch-black void, out of which stared a pair of sharp, cold pupils.
The hockey mask was riddled with holes, and the triangular area around the nose was marked with three scarlet, paint-like spray marks. Anyone would recognize it at a glance—it was a classic killer mask.
Because he had contained the C-220 Bloodthirsty Chainsaw Sword, Zhou Chen had taken the time to learn a bit about the American Chainsaw Murder Association.
It all started when a group of psychopaths, influenced by an ancient film unearthed from the ruins of a bygone era, began to imitate the appearance and methods of the killer in the movie. Later, as more and more psychopathic Ascenders joined their ranks, they gradually evolved into the current illegal Ascender organization.
They had once unleashed terrifying waves of murder across the World. Although they were quickly suppressed by the Star Association—like a ripple in the ocean—their signature costumes still left a deep impression on the public. Film companies capitalized on this, adapting their images into a series of movies. Eventually, the looks of a few of the more famous members became universally recognized, and the merchandise has been selling for decades.
Just like the mask Zhou Chen was wearing, you could buy one online for thirty bucks, free shipping included.
He figured that since his role this time was to be an enforcer, he needed an intimidating aura. That’s why he had put on this kind of killer mask. Paired with some decent acting, it should be more than enough to unnerve them.
“See Han Laohu?”
One of the men, who was dark-skinned and burly, paused for a moment. Then he remembered that Brother Han had indeed given an order earlier that day: a new member would be joining them tonight, and they were to “give him a warm welcome.”
At this, a fawning smile appeared on the man’s face. “Xiao Gao, this must be the guy Brother Han was talking about. Quick, quick, go open the gate.”
The other man, who had a head of blond hair, heard this and hurried into the guardhouse to press the button. The large iron gate creaked open, parting to both sides.
“Please, come in, come in… Wait, the password first!” The burly man suddenly remembered, blocking Zhou Chen’s path with a guarded expression.
’Is this guy a few bricks shy of a load?’ Seeing that the man was big and brawny but not particularly bright, Zhou Chen didn’t press the issue and simply gave the password: “Midnight snack.”
“Right, right, that’s the one.” The burly man stepped aside and called to his partner. “Xiao Gao, Xiao Gao, you take this guy to see Brother Han. I’ll stay here and watch the gate.”
“You got it.”
Led by the blond man, Zhou Chen entered the lumber mill. He scanned his surroundings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary on the surface. The rumble of machinery could be heard from a factory building in the distance, making it look like a perfectly normal plant.
Soon, he was led to a remote, old warehouse. Before the blond thug could even knock, the iron door was pushed open from the inside.
The man who opened the door was bald, his face a mass of menacing flesh. His body was covered in bulging muscles, his arms as thick as another man’s thighs. The sinewy bulk seemed ready to burst through his black shirt. He sized up Zhou Chen, one eyebrow slightly raised:
“This is the new guy?”
“Yes, yes. Hey, buddy, this is Brother Jiao, Brother Han’s top enforcer.” The blond man squeezed out a fawning smile. “By the way, what should we call you?”
“Yang Chenfei,” Zhou Chen calmly supplied his alias.
Brother Jiao looked him up and down a few times, then turned and walked back inside. “Come on in. Brother Han is in the middle of a discussion with the other party.”
The old warehouse appeared to be a break room for the employees. Five men were gathered around a table playing cards, while three others sat on a sofa eating instant noodles and watching TV. At the sight of a stranger, they all stopped what they were doing.
“That’s the new guy?” one of the thugs on the sofa asked, looking strangely at the blond man. “Didn’t Brother Han tell you to give him a proper ’welcome’? That was fast.”
The blond man froze. “Wasn’t my welcome good enough?”
SMACK! Brother Jiao, who was standing beside him, slapped him across the scalp. He continued to slap him as he snarled, “I’ll give you a welcome! I’ll give you a welcome! I’ll give you a welcome!”
Brother Jiao was all muscle. Even a few casual slaps from him were more than a wimp like the blond man could handle. His vision went dark, and the world started to spin. All he could do was wave his hands and beg for mercy. “I was wrong, Brother Jiao! I was wrong! Stop hitting me… please, stop…”
By now, even someone as dense as the blond man should have figured it out. When Brother Han told them to “welcome” the newcomer, he meant they should give him a taste of their strength, test his abilities—not treat him with the fawning respect one shows their own grandpa.
’Heavens above, he was just a low-level goon! It wasn’t even his decision to let the new guy in. He’d seen his big bro acting all friendly and assumed this was some important guest. Who would have thought Boss Han’s ’welcome’ meant something completely different…’
’Big Bro led me astray!’
’The blond man was now certain of it. His big bro really was a few bricks shy of a load!’
Brother Jiao kicked the meddling blond man out of the way and turned his fierce gaze on Zhou Chen. “Listen up, kid. Brother Han said it doesn’t matter if you were sent by the higher-ups. If you don’t have the Ability, we won’t take you. See this piece of trash? He’s got six kills to his name. How many people have you killed?”
Zhou Chen glanced at the trembling blond man on the floor. ’You really can’t judge a book by its cover,’ he thought with a silent sigh. Then he replied in a cold tone, “How many people have I killed? I can’t remember. Do you remember how many slices of bread you’ve eaten in your life?”
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