bookbashuk Chapter 957 Vermouth: Wake up!
Chapter 957 Vermouth: Wake up!
"Liquor?"
"Liquor?!"
"Baijiu! Wake up!"
Consciousness is like a drowning person struggling to rise from the deep sea, breaking free from the viscous darkness. The first sensation it touches is a severe headache and a needle-like stinging pain in the back of the neck.
Baijiu's eyelashes trembled a few times before she managed to lift her heavy eyelids.
At first, the field of vision was a blurry darkness, accompanied by swirling spots of light.
He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again, his pupils slowly adjusting to the dim light.
He tried to move and immediately felt the restraint. A cold sensation came from his wrists, accompanied by the faint sound of metal rubbing against cement.
He looked down and saw that his hands were firmly locked in a pair of heavy, obviously specially made steel handcuffs. The short chain in the middle of the handcuffs passed through a heavy iron ring embedded in the concrete floor, and the iron ring was firmly cast to a thick, cold, scratched and stained concrete support column behind him.
He tried to exert force, but his wrists ached from the sharp pressure, and the iron rings and concrete pillar remained unmoved. He felt the same cold, confining sensation at his ankles—he was also locked in shackles, fixed to the base of the pillar.
He was pinned to the pillar in a half-sitting, half-leaning position, his range of motion limited to the radius of his barely outstretched arms.
"Now think about how to get out of here," Vermouth said.
The liquor tried to break free with brute force, but found it unmoved, like an ant fully armed, heading straight for a human army of thousands.
So weak that even your enemies don't realize you exist in this world.
"My watch has been taken," Baijiu said calmly, lowering his head.
"Your watch?" Vermouth looked at him with a puzzled expression. In her memory, Baijiu had never worn a watch.
“Yes.” Baijiu took a deep breath. “And my cufflinks.”
"There are lock-picking tools that I had previously stored inside."
"I understand," Vermouth said calmly.
Baijiu looked up and met Vermouth's gaze: "Let's find another way to get out."
"Listen," Baijiu said, biting her lip.
Through the glass, a figure could be seen on the rusty metal walkway on the second floor.
A man in a dark suit, with a well-proportioned build, was walking slowly down the aisle. He was still some distance away, so his face wasn't clear, but his gait—
Calm, composed, with an air of indifference that suggested complete control—
It made the heart of the baijiu sink slightly.
It's not the outward violence of Gin, nor the meticulous calculation of Bourbon, but a more condescending and unemotional scrutiny.
He's one of Rum's men.
Or perhaps he was one of Rum's executives in charge of "special affairs".
“It’s all too late.” Bai Jiu’s voice was extremely low, almost a sigh, yet carrying a cold, resigned acceptance. He shook his head slightly, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips, and murmured to himself, “It’s about to begin…”
What's meant to happen will happen eventually.
He abruptly turned his head, his gaze fixed intently on Vermouth beside him. The sudden movement caused the shackles on his wrists to make a screeching sound.
“Alright, Vermouth,” his voice suddenly became clear, calm, and even commanding, a stark contrast to his previous whisper, “look at me, look at me.”
Betty Vermouth was taken aback by the change in his tone. She looked up, a hint of doubt flashing in her icy blue eyes, but she still kept her gaze fixed on his face as instructed.
In the dim light, she saw that his sharply defined jawline was taut, and his eyes were unfathomable, yet contained a strange, almost cruel determination.
"I believe you can pull through," Baijiu said, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth, landing heavily in the silent air.
Get through it? Get through what?
Vermouth paused for a moment, then her brows furrowed even more.
Following the direction of Baijiu's gaze, she looked again carefully at the dusty metal workbench piled with discarded items not far away.
Previously, she had only glanced at it briefly, her attention focused more on her own injuries and confinement. Now, looking intently, her pupils suddenly contracted!
Among the pile of rusty parts, discarded cables, and greasy rags, lay several "tools" that should never have been there—
A heavy iron hammer with a wooden handle stained with dark dirt.
A spiked club with menacing barbs and a cold, gleaming sheen.
There were also a few metal objects that she couldn't see clearly at the moment, but whose shapes were anything but friendly.
Those things were piled up there haphazardly, like ordinary tools waiting to be used, but the meaning they represented sent a chill down Vermouth's spine and up to her head.
She turned back to look at the liquor: "What do you mean by 'we can get through this'?"
"Just keep telling yourself," Baijiu said earnestly, "pain is nothing."
"boom!!!"
A deafening bang suddenly exploded!
The sound didn't come from the direction of the man in the suit, but from the white wine and the heavy metal fire door behind Vermouth that was originally tightly closed!
The entire door panel suddenly snapped open inward under the immense external force, the hinges groaning under the strain, and slammed heavily against the wall, shaking down a cloud of dust.
Two imposing figures, as tall as iron towers, walked in one after the other with heavy steps.
They were all wearing tight-fitting black tactical vests, their exposed arms showing bulging muscles, veins, and scars.
Bald, expressionless, his eyes were like those of an animal waiting to be slaughtered in a slaughterhouse—cold, numb, devoid of any human emotion.
They weren't carrying any conspicuous weapons, but their waists were bulging, clearly indicating that they were carrying weapons.
After entering, the two ignored the man in the suit in the shadows and headed straight for Baijiu, who was handcuffed to a concrete pillar.
The heavy thud of military boots on the ground was particularly jarring in the silent space, carrying a chilling sense of oppression.
Baijiu's body tensed instantly, every muscle entering a state of combat readiness, despite being firmly restrained.
His gaze was sharp as an eagle's, fixed on the two approaching giants, his brain rapidly calculating their stride, center of gravity, and possible attack routes.
Vermouth also held her breath at the same time, her icy blue eyes narrowing like a cat poised to pounce.
The two giant men stopped about a meter behind Baijiu, one on the left and one on the right, like two gatekeepers, completely blocking any possible space for him to move.
They looked down at the liquor bottles leaning against the ground, their eyes filled with nothing but pure, indifferent indifference, as if they were carrying out a mission.
There were no warnings, not a single unnecessary word.
The giant on the left, with a hideous scar on his face, moved without warning!
His right hand, as large as a fan, was raised high with lightning speed, fingers spread wide, not clenched into a fist, but with full force, bringing a gust of wind, and slapped hard towards the back of Baijiu's head!
That wasn't an ordinary slap; it was a fatal blow infused with the full force of the body, enough to break an ordinary person's cervical spine!
The wind howled mournfully!
Baijiu reacted the instant the other man's shoulder muscles contracted. All he could do was tense his neck muscles to the maximum extent and, with the help of the shackles, forcefully lower his head forward!
"Snapped--!!!"
A dull, teeth-grinding bang!