Chapter 73

(Third update, today I didn’t buy a cake, nor did I call anyone out to celebrate. I just quietly boiled a few eggs to mark my birthday. It was very quiet, and I was very well-behaved, focusing on writing.)

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This nap lasted until around seven o'clock in the evening.

When Zhao Futu woke up, it was already dark. He stretched his limbs and then walked into the kitchen to prepare a bowl of noodles for himself, planning to fry a few eggs to go with it. However, at this moment, a rather abrupt ringtone suddenly sounded. Zhao Futu fished his phone out of his pocket and saw that it was Aunt Lan’s number.

"Hello? Aunt Lan?" Zhao Futu put the noodles into the boiling water and said with a smile, "Is there anything you need me to do?"

"Little Futu... um..." Aunt Lan let out a dazed hum, then took a breath and said, "I... I’m at the Hyatt Hotel! ... Come quickly! ... I can’t hold on much longer! ..."

Zhao Futu’s phone suddenly dropped, but he quickly and agilely caught it before it hit the ground.

"Crack!"

When he caught the phone, perhaps influenced by his emotions, he inadvertently used too much force, and while he managed to catch it, he crushed the screen. At that moment, a cold and sinister aura emanated from his body, coalescing into a merciless killing intent. This feeling was something he hadn’t experienced in a long time, for he knew— he wanted to kill!

Zhao Futu walked out of the room with a blank expression and then directly jumped from the third floor.

— "Thud!"

In the dull sound of landing, he slowly stood up, and his figure darted out of the neighborhood like a ghost, crossing the road, running through red lights, and swiftly heading toward the eastern part of the city center! He knew where the Hyatt Hotel was; it was about a ten-minute drive from here. If he took a direct route, he should be able to get there in five minutes!

People may not necessarily fear death.

In fact, many of us have had thoughts of suicide during times of despair and hopelessness. This is an innate human instinct. Therefore, the desire to live can be the greatest source of motivation, but it can also be the last straw that breaks the camel’s back.

Life is lived for the day one dies.

Even someone like Zhao Futu, who practices Dao, knows that he can only live a little longer than others. When the glory fades, he will ultimately face death.

So, he fears death, but he also doesn’t fear it!

However, there are many things in life that are more precious than life itself. Money and material possessions erode our souls, and the more we lose our beliefs, the more our fear of death intensifies!

Zhao Futu has always had a bottom line, one that is more important than his life. It used to be his mother, and now it is Aunt Lan.

His only relative in this world!

Now, someone has touched his last line of defense, which is even more unacceptable to him than someone pointing a gun at his head! Almost instantly, a surge of killing intent rose within him, a cold and ruthless desire to tear someone apart! At this moment, he is like a robot, the same as when he seized the opportunity to kill the head wolf.

He leaped over the walls of one neighborhood after another, the evening darkness concealing his figure, moving like a ghost.

His speed was incredibly fast!

As he darted through the streets and roads of one neighborhood after another, his speed almost reached sixty miles per hour. Each time he was about to collide with someone or crash into a wall due to his high speed, or when a car was passing by, he seemed to have eyes all over his body, predicting the danger in advance and instinctively dodging it, then vanishing without a trace!

Drivers on the streets occasionally slammed on their brakes in shock, causing several rear-end collisions. But by the time they got out of their cars to curse, Zhao Futu was already long gone.

...

"Sir! Excuse me, do you..." A doorman at the hotel entrance tried to stop Zhao Futu from rushing in.

This was a relatively high-end hotel, and the doorman, seeing Zhao Futu’s disheveled appearance, immediately wanted to stop him. Zhao Futu, who had just woken up, was dressed messily and didn’t look like a successful person, let alone someone who could afford to stay at such a hotel. Instead, he looked like a man whose girlfriend had been lured away by a rich and handsome guy, and he was trying to rush in.

However, before the doorman could finish his sentence,

Zhao Futu had already grabbed him, not bothering to waste words, and pushed him aside, opening the hotel door.

"I’m looking for someone!"

Zhao Futu casually placed him on a two-meter-high counter, and in the shocked gaze of the young receptionist, he quickly disappeared into the elevator.

All his senses were fully extended!

Relying on his familiarity and perception, Zhao Futu quickly locked onto Aunt Lan’s location, which was on the left side of the fifth floor. He had once placed a perception mark on her, a very special ability that is hard to describe. However, an example can illustrate it: if someone else entered his room, even if he was sleeping and the noise was very slight, he would immediately wake up. But if Aunt Lan entered his room, even if she was making a lot of noise, cleaning, or cooking, he could sleep through it.

It was such a strange ability!

Zhao Futu stepped into the fifth floor, where there were private rooms. Aunt Lan’s location was at the front corner. Zhao Futu walked in and saw that it was the women’s restroom. Without hesitation, he pushed the door open and walked in.

As soon as he entered the women’s restroom, he saw Aunt Lan sitting on the toilet seat with the lid up, looking weak and listless. Her face was flushed, and her eyes had an unnatural, seductive look. She was weak and leaning against the wall, as if she had drunk too much! Her phone was on the ground, and she was struggling to keep her eyes open. When Zhao Futu’s figure appeared before her, she finally showed a relieved smile and murmured, "Little Futu... you finally came..."

After saying that, she leaned forward, weakly.

Zhao Futu rushed forward and caught the swaying Aunt Lan. There was a slight smell of alcohol on her breath, but the killing intent in Zhao Futu’s body grew even stronger!

Aunt Lan has a good tolerance for alcohol, but she never drinks more than three cups with outsiders.

Someone drugged her!!!

— Crack!

The marble floor was crushed under his feet. He took a deep breath, slowly picked up Aunt Lan, and walked out like a leopard ready to hunt.