Chapter Two: The Rules of Three Hundred Thousand

A barrier stopped the sedan, but a black motorcycle took its place. Whoever followed him did not care about traffic laws—or being noticed. At a red light, Jibai checked the seal. Rain swept across the thermal receipt, and blue words surfaced on its blank reverse: Zhou Chengyue. Space 17. Half a key. His father's name struck like a nail. The motorcycle closed in. Jibai shoved the meal into the old box and turned into the urban village he knew by heart. Laundry poles crossed narrow alleys; steps rose unpredictably. He killed his lights, slipped through a pharmacy's rear door into an underground garage, and took a freight lift to another street. He reached the aquarium's side entrance at 11:59. “Twelve seconds left,” a voice said from the shadows.