The car sped wildly down the street like a runaway horse, the engine roaring deafeningly like an angry beast, though it was the kind of roar that sounded like it was running out of breath and could stall at any moment.
It wasn't just Ian who felt the danger and anxiety. Along the way, this crazy taxi scared many pedestrians. All kinds of unbearable curses vaguely reached inside the car.
The vocabulary wasn't rich, it was just the same few swear words repeated over and over. However, Ian didn't have the luxury of educating the public on practical profanity.
"Handbrake! The handbrake!" Half of Ian's body was leaning into the driver's seat. His fingers were trying to grip the protected lever, yet he didn't dare to actually touch the lever.
He was genuinely afraid of flipping the car.
This was a theatrical act of struggling.
Fortunately, the taxi driver didn't have much ability to discern such things.
"Get back and sit down! If you want to die, I don't! Please! Trust my driving skills!" The taxi driver was panicking fiercely, his forehead covered in dense sweat.
Large beads of sweat streamed down his cheeks, but he still didn't choose to slow down or stop. This guy was also stubbornly reckless. Seeing Ian still trying to reach his handbrake position.
"Don't blame me! I'll pay for the medical bills!"
He instead picked up his thermos and fiercely smashed it toward Ian's approaching head.
He clearly wanted to smash Ian back into the rear seat.
Berserker profession EXP +1
The thermos didn't cause Ian any damage. This was the effect of the "Leveling Pendant" continuously "draining health," coincidentally giving Ian a point of profession experience at this moment.
But Ian wasn't in the mood to be happy right now.
"If you don't want to die! Then step on the brake, damn it!" Ian gripped the two front headrests tightly, his voice furious. He wasn't usually an easily angered person.
Facing Ian's loud yelling.
The driver just stayed silent, merely holding the steering wheel with one hand and wielding the stainless steel thermos with the other, wildly smashing backward. Even after Ian shrank back, he was still smashing the air.
Just in case.
"This is a matter of life and death!"
The driver roared, and stomped on the gas pedal again. The scenery outside the car began to blur. The speedometer needle trembled, approaching 250. The car body started emitting an ominous metallic groan.
Ian finally gave up the struggle and could only helplessly hide behind the driver's seat.
He gripped the metal bars of the front seat headrests tightly with both hands.
To be honest.
Ian was genuinely nervous.
He only regretted not carrying a helmet with him. As long as his head wasn't shattered, he could use his skill and somehow manage to heal his broken body.
Of course.
Nervousness aside, Ian didn't completely panic. After all, as a second-generation hero, he had one last trump card, screaming "Dad save me" at the top of his lungs.
He believed that at Superman's speed.
He could definitely be rescued before he was forced into a thousand pieces. He hadn't felt this way before, but the current Ian could only feel grateful that his father was truly up there.
He was a man who could genuinely stand in the sky on Earth.
"I'm definitely going to report you! Your license will surely be revoked!" Ian grew angrier the more he thought about it, gritting his teeth. He felt that this taxi driver must be insane.
He probably snuck over from Gotham City next door.
"That's hilarious, I don't even have a license!" The taxi driver didn't stop swinging the thermos. He constantly hit the air, clearly afraid that Ian would sneak up on him while his guard was down.
"..."
Ian was stunned after hearing that sentence. He couldn't understand why he was so unlucky. In his sight, the taxi was like a GTA game started in "single-player mode."
Drifting around corners?
Basic operation.
Jumping over unfinished bridge gaps, sparks flew from the undercarriage. He scraped past the rear of an oil tanker in a thrilling pass, and the rearview mirror shattered with a *snap*, turning into a shower of fragments.
"Damn it! Are you filming Fast and Furious?"
Ian's face was pale.
Several times he nearly couldn't stop himself from loudly crying for help. The taxi driver, driving his crazy taxi, performed high-difficulty maneuvers all the way out of the city and crashed into a suburban farm.
The weather here was completely different from the city.
The city was sunny and clear, but here it was overcast, the sky so dark it felt like midnight. An oppressive atmosphere enveloped the entire farm.
Ian felt an ominous presence.
"Where did you bring me?"
Ian guessed that this might be some black market organ harvesting den.
But facing his loud questioning.
The taxi driver remained completely unresponsive.
"Kid! Buckle up!" He just shouted a warning to Ian, and then drove his taxi straight into a wooden house.
Of course.
At this moment, he had finally started hitting the brakes.
"Rumble!"
With a loud crash.
The taxi finally came to a stop inside the house.
However, the car front was completely mangled, the windshield was entirely shattered, and the hood popped up with a bang after stopping, beginning to hiss and emit black smoke.
"Constantine, are you alive?" The driver forcefully shouldered the deformed car door open, crawled out of the car, and ran toward the back row of the car, shouting into the interior of the house.
He wanted to check on the condition of Ian, the middle school student.
Just then.
"You would have been too late to even collect my corpse!" A man in a beige trench coat walked out of the shadows of the ruins, his blonde hair messy and a noticeable streak of blood at the corner of his mouth.
"Charles, I meant it literally when I said I was dying, understand?"
He was angrily questioning.
However, the taxi driver Charles didn't respond. He yanked open the back door and leaned in, but failed to find the presence of the heaven-defying middle school student in the back seat.
"Where is he?"
The taxi driver Charles looked confused.
"What person?"
The man in the trench coat, Constantine, walked over with a frown.
"He was just here!" Charles reluctantly squeezed into the car, searching everywhere, but couldn't even find a single strand of hair. A chill crept up his spine.
Did he really run into a ghost in broad daylight?
"Over here." Just as the driver was at a loss, a hand slowly emerged from the broken bricks and debris in front of the car, and that tender voice weakly sounded.
Charles quickly rushed over, helping Ian free himself from the debris. He checked him over and found that the child was only dishevelled and slightly messy.
"You are truly evil, damn it! Didn't I tell you to buckle up!" Charles first let out a long sigh of relief, then questioned him loudly, his voice filled with extreme fear.
"Huh?"
Ian, the victim, immediately grew exasperated. "Can you roll over and look at your own car? Feel the back seat of your beat-up car and see if there's a seatbelt back there!"
Hearing this.
Charles immediately fell silent.
"Maybe it was missed during the annual inspection... Uh, okay, I never went for the annual inspection." He was clearly guilt-ridden and sheepishly responded in a low voice.
"..."
Ian was completely at a loss for words. Given that the other party didn't even have an operating license, perhaps this situation wasn't so surprising after all?
Ian, feeling angry again, was just about to punch him.
"Charles! Why did you bring a child to such a dangerous place! The demon hasn't been dealt with yet!" A surprised and unsettled voice suddenly reached them.
Ian looked over.
He saw the unkempt man in the trench coat running toward him with a look of shock and anger. If he hadn't heard wrong, this man was the infamous DC burden, Constantine? And the taxi driver he rode with was Constantine's accomplice? Hiss! He understood now, he understood! No wonder he had been plagued by bad luck ever since he got into the cab!
He had truly gotten too close to a jinx!
"We need to get this child out of here!" Constantine didn't know Ian's inner thoughts. He just stared at Ian, his voice trembling slightly with fear.
After speaking.
The man immediately grabbed Ian, intending to run toward the main gate.
However.
"Hmm?"
Constantine strangely found that he couldn't pull a person who was only about five-foot-five.
"What's wrong with this guy?"
Before Constantine could react.
A crisp sound of wood breaking suddenly came from the second floor.
His face changed.
The next moment.
"Eat! Eat! Eat! Delicious child!"
Accompanied by a chilling, strange laugh, a shadowy figure with a hideous face darted down from the dim second floor like lightning, rushing toward Ian shrouded in thick, rolling black mist.