The rainy night in Jiangcheng is humid and cold.
When Lin Shen was thrown onto the shaking carriage floor, there was still a smell of blood mixed with mud and sand in his mouth. This was a rusty old double-decker bus. Instead of the familiar city neon lights outside the bus window, it was filled with absolute darkness that was too thick to break. There was no sound of wind, no roar of the engine, just a dull, depressing feeling like traveling through deep water.
There were nine people in the carriage.
"Lin Shen, don't blame me... I really want to live."
Su Qing, who was huddled in the seat, looked pale. The expensive little fragrant jacket she wore was already stained, and her original delicate makeup was mottled by tears. She didn't dare to look into Lin Shen's eyes, but just held on to the hem of the man's clothes next to her.
The man standing next to Su Qing was Zhao Zimo, a famous second-generation rich man in Jiangcheng, and the "big man" Lin Shen once needed to look up to. At this moment, Zhao Zimo was looking at Lin Shen with a condescending look, holding a rusty iron pipe removed from the seat in his hand.
"Poor guy, do you understand the rules?" Zhao Zimo spat, stepped on Lin Shen's fingers with his leather shoes, and crushed them hard, "This car will turn off the lights every ten minutes. When the lights are turned off, the 'dirty things' in the back seat will crawl forward. If you want to survive, someone must be behind you. For a powerless bottom class of society like you, dying once for Qingqing is the greatest value in your life."
