Chapter 59: Target: Escape the Execution Line

"Luola!" Xiaer rushed into the room upon hearing sobs.

Roger followed closely behind.

But when the two entered the living room, they saw a shocking sight.

The windows were boarded up; in the dim corner where faint light seeped through, a vertical pole stood. That spot had once held a punching bag—now gone—replaced by Luola, bound to it.

Her hands and feet were tied with ropes, her clothes torn and ragged, dark red palm prints still visible on her face, looking utterly broken.

"Fuck! Who the hell hit you? I'll rip her face off! Luola!"

Xiaer cursed violently as she stepped forward to untie Luola.

Roger, meanwhile, approached the bedroom door and peered inside.

Unlike ordinary homes, Luola's had no bed, no wardrobe, no sofa, let alone a TV.

On the bedroom floor lay only a yellowed, worn-out blanket, on which two middle-aged men and women lay asleep, clearly high.

Their hair was brittle and yellow, like roadside weeds.

No, even weeds had more nutrition than they did.

They were skeletal, limbs as thin as firewood; skin clung tightly to their ankles, veins bulging grotesquely.

Spots disfigured their faces and necks; beneath rolled-up sleeves, arms riddled with countless needle punctures were exposed.

Around them, trash littered the floor. Cheap pizza boxes piled in one corner, crawling and gnawed at by filthy creatures.

Roger frowned; the environment was worse than some homeless encampments.

He couldn't fathom how Luola endured this.

At this point, Xiaer had already freed Luola, who clung to her, weeping softly.

"What happened? Did your parents do this?" Xiaer saw the answer in her friend's expression and snapped angrily: "Why? Didn't you already buy them the enhancer?"

Luola gently wiped tears from her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup: "They wanted me to buy higher-grade stuff, but I had no money, so they…"

Even without finishing, Roger and Xiaer could imagine what Luola had suffered.

"Fuck, just move in with me!" Xiaer urged. "Forget them. Let those two bastards die!"

Luola's expression grew troubled.

"Xiaer, I can't abandon them. If I leave, they'll suffer terribly."

Roger hadn't expected Luola to be such a family loyalist.

But he disagreed with her words—addicts only suffered without enhancers; whether their daughter was there or not meant little to them.

"Are you insane? They've treated you like this!" Xiaer was equally baffled.

But Luola explained: "No, Xiaer, they're not usually like this. They're good to me—only when they're out of drugs do they become violent."

Fine, girl. You've been successfully PUA'd.

Roger sighed inwardly, then suggested: "Why don't we leave first?"

Both girls turned to look at him.

Only now did Luola notice his face; instinctively gripping Xiaer's arm, she asked, wary and confused: "You're the guy from last night. Why are you with Xiaer?"

Xiaer shrugged: "He just helped me get rid of that psycho's goons. Don't talk about it—let's go."

Soon, the three were back in the car.

"You probably haven't eaten—have some pizza. He's treating." Xiaer and Luola sat in the back, sharing the pizza.

Luola still clung to Xiaer's arm, her tone still skeptical: "Why did you two come together?"

"Because he regretted it," Xiaer cut in before Roger could speak. "He had plans last night, but too many people around—he got shy."

"Really? That's fine." Luola immediately put on a professional smile: "If you're willing, me and Xiaer can both do it—$100."

Roger watched her exhausted face, masked by foundation, in the rearview mirror and shook his head: "No, not enough time—I've got work coming up."

"Okay. By the way, where did you get your painkillers? They worked amazing—can you tell me?"

System-made products are always top-tier.

But there were only a few pills left, and Roger could only obtain them by luck.

So he shook his head: "Sorry, the guy who sold me the painkillers is out of stock."

"Ah, what a shame." Luola lowered her head, clearly disappointed.

"Where are you going? I'll drop you off."

"Just stop on the nearby street," Xiaer checked her phone. "We've got to get to work."

They relied on each other, trusted each other completely—like outsiders couldn't even squeeze in.

Especially Luola—she seemed to possess an unusual possessiveness over Xiaer, even questioning her if she met a man alone.

"So you're fine with working with Xiaer, but not with Xiaer meeting men privately?"

"WTF, you really separate work from personal life."

"Whatever. Let it be."

Roger started the car and opened a food delivery app, planning to make a few deliveries that afternoon to earn some cash.

Though he still had $4,500 in Prepaid Debit Card funds, that money wouldn't last long.

His house had been foreclosed by the bank, but since the auction price fell short of his debt and he hadn't filed for bankruptcy, he still owed a deficiency balance to restore his credit score.

The amount wasn't huge, but it wasn't small—around $30,000.

Roger had considered bankruptcy, but that would make him indistinguishable from a homeless person.

He couldn't rent a home or a car, obtain any credit, or even get insurance without being labeled high-risk and charged exorbitant rates.

Even if Roger didn't fear illness, he couldn't skip car insurance.

Maintaining a vehicle wasn't easy.

In fact, postage, insurance premiums, and future tax obligations would all obstruct Roger's path to escaping the Execution Line.

He had to overcome all of these to achieve his goal, reach the peak of life, and then indulge in wine and women.

Fortunately, unlike other vagrants, he didn't need to spend time and effort working three jobs daily—just gather more outrageous exclusive news through the intelligence system.

But when no intelligence was released, he couldn't just sit idle—taking extra food delivery orders to earn money was also good.

Thinking of this, he glanced at the delivery address on his phone.

"Yushujie Shequ, No. 3112."

After memorizing the destination, he pressed the accelerator and drove away from his original location.

Twenty minutes later, Roger arrived at the restaurant, picked up two servings of pasta and one vegetable salad, then continued driving straight to the destination.

Luoyide Shequ was a typical middle-class neighborhood, located in the middle section of Third Avenue, inhabited by corporate middle managers, doctors, or engineers.

Most of the vehicles moving within the community were classic models of BMW, Lexus, or Tesla.

So when a Highlander appeared outside the community, it immediately drew the attention of the police.

A brief siren sounded beside Roger's ear; he looked in the rearview mirror and saw a police car with flashing red and blue lights following him.

This was the police signaling him to pull over.

Roger was very familiar with this sound, as he had been wanted with full stars in GTA more than once.

But games were games—in reality, if he resisted the police, all that awaited him was an emptied magazine.

So Roger decisively turned on his right turn signal, pulled over to the roadside, and took out his pocket watch, placing it where the police could see it.

Not long after, a police officer wearing sunglasses approached from the driver's side and knocked on the window.

Roger rolled down the window.

"Good afternoon, I'm Officer Shimisi," said the portly white officer first.

"Hello, what's the matter?" Roger opened his pocket watch, placed both hands on the steering wheel, and feigned an innocent demeanor.

"We pulled you over because your right taillight isn't working," said Officer Shimisi, his gaze sweeping back and forth inside the driver's seat.

Roger offered an embarrassed smile: "Really? This was left to me by my father—maybe I should take it in for inspection."

"Hmm." Officer Shimisi paid no attention to his words and continued: "Hand me your driver's license, vehicle registration, and insurance proof."

"Uh, the vehicle registration and insurance aren't in the car—I only brought my driver's license."

As Roger spoke, he pulled his driver's license from the glove compartment and handed it over.

At that moment, another officer walked over from the trunk area.

But when he faced Roger, both clearly froze.

"Hey, Jie La De, long time no see."