Conan: Begins to collaborate with Miss Bayonetta and become famous

Chapter 837 Regaining Life

Countdown: 15 seconds.

Lao Hei stared at the scarlet numbers on the screen, then glanced at the silent headset - there was still no news from Baijiu.

After experiencing countless life and death experiences, his fear of death has long been worn away.

At this moment, there was only decision in his mind.

"There's no time." Lao Hei's voice was firm, and he instantly took over the invisible command. "We can only gamble... gamble that he has obtained the controller."

"Okay!" McAllen's eyes widened suddenly, his Adam's apple rolled, and he forced himself to suppress the surging fear. "We're ready!"

"Cut it off with two seconds left." Lao Hei ordered in a deep voice.

"Huh?" MacAllen was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "Why two seconds?! Not just one?! That one second could mean eternal damnation, with no chance for recovery!"

"McAllen!" Old Black's tone carried a hint of helplessness at being challenged. "Do you really have to be stuck on the edge of the knife?"

"This isn't the tip of the knife stuck!" McAllen's voice cracked with anxiety. "This is precision! Accurate to the millisecond! A slight error can lead to a huge mistake!"

“Shut up, everyone!” Vermouth interrupted the pointless argument with a sharp voice. Sweat dripped down her delicate jawline and hit the floor. “When are we going to cut it?! Decide now!”

"Okay... okay!" McCarron watched the number jump to [08] mercilessly, and spoke as fast as a machine gun. "Then one second! Cut it when there's one second left!"

"One second? Are you sure?" Vermouth's voice was as tense as a string, and beads of sweat oozing from her forehead sparkled in the dim light.

"Affirmative!" McAllen nodded heavily, the cold blade of the scissors precisely touching the green line that symbolized life and death. He had never felt time so long before, every second like simmering in a frying pan.

"Three." Lao Hei's voice was as steady as an ancient well.

"Two." McAllen's voice trembled uncontrollably.

“One!” The veins on Lao Hei’s arms popped out, and he growled like thunder, “Cut—!”

“Sizzle——!!!”

The piercing sound of electricity blasted through the dead silence of the hut! Blue and white sparks danced wildly on the blades of the scissors!

On the edge of the cliff, the setting sun melts gold.

Baijiu collapsed on the cold rock, his chest heaving violently, and every breath caused severe pain throughout his body.

The afterglow of the setting sun was like molten gold, splashing on his blood-stained body, bringing a hint of illusory warmth.

He used up his last bit of strength, pressed the stop button, and gently threw the controller that determined his fate into the bottomless abyss.

It was as if my body no longer belonged to me. Every movement was like a rusty gear forcibly turning, supported entirely by the muscle memory engraved in my bones.

Hut.

McAllen's tightly closed eyes slowly opened, his pupils slightly dilated due to nervousness.

Before my eyes, the ferocious plutonium core device was like a sleeping beast, making a subtle mechanical unlocking sound.

A shiny black metal ball with an icy texture rolled out from the opened cavity.

Vermouth was quick-witted and quick-handed, leaning over and catching it steadily in her palm.

Her tense nerves suddenly relaxed, and a bright, tired smile blossomed on her face, a smile that had survived a disaster. "I knew... he could do it..."

Elsewhere, the device in front of Lao Hei also quietly activated. A heavy black metal ball rolled silently onto the dusty ground.

Lao Hei slowly squatted down, his movements as gentle as if he was holding a rare treasure, and held the cold metal ball in his palm.

He stared at it with a complicated look in his eyes, which eventually turned into a low sigh, filled with endless emotion and relief: "Good job, Baijiu... I was right about you."

Vermouth held the metal ball and turned her gaze to the corner.

Ryan was tied up and slumped on the ground. His once arrogant face was now as pale as dust, his eyes were empty, filled with complete despair and hopelessness.

On top of the cliff.

Baijiu dragged his broken body and finally climbed to the edge of the cliff.

The taut string suddenly broke, and he fell to the ground like a puddle of mud, his limbs spread out in the shape of a "big" character, greedily absorbing the last warmth of the sunset.

My eyelids felt heavy as a mountain, and my consciousness blurred rapidly like the receding tide.

The faint roar of propellers tearing through the air came closer and closer...

An enemy? Is it a friend?

It doesn't matter anymore... He just wants to sink into the dreamless darkness, not even willing to give himself the energy to think.

Before his consciousness completely sank, he seemed to feel his body being gently lifted up...

In the blurred vision, Vermouth's anxious face flashed by. Her lips were moving, as if she was calling something, but he could not hear anything.

My brain felt like it was filled with lead, and I couldn't even decipher the simplest lip movements.

The light and shadows around me are rapidly receding... Is this heaven?

No... Vermouth can't be in heaven... Nothing can happen to her...

Then, he caught a glimpse of McAllen's tearful face and the figure of Old Black waving his arms and directing...

Then... then...

The darkness completely swallowed him.

hospital.

"White wine? White wine?"

A distant and familiar voice seemed to come through thick frosted glass.

"Can you hear me? Liquor?" The body was shaken gently.

My heavy eyelids were like rusty iron doors, pried open with great difficulty. Lao Hei's bearded face, filled with concern, gradually became clearer in my blurry vision.

"You've slept for almost four hours. It's time to get up and meet your comrades who have been through life and death together?" Lao Hei's voice was full of mockery, and he gently patted Baijiu's shoulder with his palm, but the force was cautious. "I'm risking my life to wake you up. I wanted to do this two hours ago..."

He glanced guiltily to the side.

Vermouth stood there with her arms folded, her eyes as cold as ice, and she exuded a low-pressure aura that said, "If you dare to wake him up, you're dead."

Lao Hei quickly lowered his voice, leaned close to Baijiu's ear, and said in a flattering tone: "Brother, give me some face... Hurry up and act like you've had enough sleep and are full of energy..."

"Liquor Team Leader..." He whispered almost pleadingly, "Please..."

"Old...Old Hei?" Baijiu's pupils gradually focused, and his scattered thoughts gathered little by little like a tired bird returning to its nest.

He subconsciously tried to prop himself up—

"Don't move! Don't move!" A man in a white coat quickly flashed out from behind Lao Hei and grabbed Baijiu's arm.

The voice was gentle but carried unquestionable authority.

Baijiu recognized him - Qiaona's husband.

"You are seriously injured now and need to rest." The doctor's tone was gentle, but every word was weighty.

Baijiu raised his right arm and looked at the densely packed IV tubes and bandages on it. He forced a weak smile and said in a hoarse voice, "It's not too serious... My limbs are still there... I'm fine..."

"You're incredibly lucky," the doctor smiled, his expression genuine. "Surviving that kind of plane crash is a miracle. But..." He changed the subject, his expression serious. "If your friends had found you an hour later..."

"You will be frozen to death on that cliff and turned into an ice sculpture."

"My friend..." Baijiu muttered, his eyes slowly sweeping across the ward. Although consciousness had returned, the fragments of his memory remained like a jumbled puzzle. He clearly remembered... going there by helicopter... but the helicopter parked on the lawn later...

"Yes," the doctor followed his gaze towards the door, "she arrived not long after you left."

At the door, Minister Sloan stood there quietly with a professional smile on her face, but deep in that smile, there was an indescribable solemnity, as if something heavy was weighing on her heart.

"You have to be mentally prepared for what I'm about to say," the doctor said in a low voice, a hint of disbelief in the air, "because it sounds...too incredible."

"Behind her..." the doctor paused, as if needing to digest this fact, "...half of the Indian army is following her! Can you imagine? That scene... is too terrifying..."

“Um…” Vermouth calmly walked out from behind the doctor, her voice calm but with an irresistible tone, “Can we be alone for a while?”

The doctor immediately understood, nodded tactfully, and stepped back a few steps with a smile: "Of course, see you later! Seriously, buddy,"

Before leaving, he couldn't help but look back, his tone full of sincere envy, "You are such a winner in life... Not only are you handsome, but your girlfriend is also so beautiful... I really... envy you to death..." His voice disappeared at the end of the corridor with the sound of footsteps.

The only people left in the ward were Baijiu, Vermouth, and Sloan standing silently at the door.

Sloan's gaze lingered on the two of them for a moment, his lips moving slightly as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he swallowed the words back.

The professional smile on her face gradually froze, replaced by a deep, almost tangible solemnity that weighed on the air of the ward.