Xiao Di stared dumbfounded in the direction Jill Young had vanished, then suddenly bolted to the church entrance and shrieked, “You nasty broad, drop dead!” She jabbed her finger at the sky and hollered, “Call me a loser? Ha! I haven’t lost, I haven’t thrown in the towel—hell, I was about to bounce back anyway!”
After all that yelling, Xiao Di was left huffing and puffing. Just then, a big, gentle hand landed on her shoulder—it was Derek Cheng. “Look, you really don’t need to sweat it. Who cares what the folks downstairs think? Let ’em talk. No matter what, I’ve got your back.” He gave Xiao Di’s shoulder a comforting pat. Maybe this girl’s shoulders weren’t built to haul around so much heavy stuff.
But that platinum-blonde chick they ran into today? She just might end up a real heavy-hitter, a big deal in this city.
……………………………………………………
Bottom line: Jill Young had made up her mind to become a major player in the underworld. Big city, big stage, big shot’s gotta do big things. And big things mean big bucks. Sure, Jill could round up a bunch of unemployed weirdos, rough ’em up, and then recruit them for some half-baked revolution—that’s doable. But honestly? That’s way too much hassle and takes forever. Plus, those string bean rejects? Jill wouldn’t touch ’em with a ten-foot pole.
With those scrawny, malnourished mugs, like the Blackridge Bandits’ runty henchmen, they think they can work for the queen herself? Please, don’t make me laugh!
So, Jill Young decided to go with Plan B: get the cash first. Derek Cheng was onto something—when you need money, nothing beats robbing a bank. And the whole bank-robbing playbook was pretty much spelled out for Jill. Whether you go in guns blazing or play it smart, step one is always casing the joint. So, Jill set out to check out every bank in Steelbullet City, one by one.
According to Derek Cheng, there were three banks worth hitting—they’re loaded. Speaking of which, let’s talk cash: in this world, everything’s dirt cheap, but the currency is rock solid. Way stronger than RMB, even tougher than the almighty dollar. A hundred bucks might not get you through a supermarket in China, but here, it’s a goldmine. Twenty’s considered a fat bill, and folks usually deal in coins.
Who knows how this wild, violence-crazy world manages to keep its cash so valuable?
Anyway, next day, Jill Young rolled up to downtown Steelbullet City. Derek Cheng was spot on—this place had a crazy rich-poor gap. The edges looked straight outta the nineteenth century, but the center? Skyscrapers everywhere, like Wall Street on steroids. The first bank Jill wanted to case was smack-dab in the middle, towering over everything.
Morningstar Bank—rumored to be the richest bank in the city. Naturally, it was Yang Qi’s top target.
Sure, this world is full of all kinds of people, but platinum hair is still way too eye-catching. Yang Qi snatched a baseball cap, flipped it on backwards, stuffed her long hair into her tracksuit, and used the hat and clothes to hide it completely. Then, she put on sunglasses and walked into the bank.
The first-floor lobby was for regular customers, but there was a VIP hall on a higher floor. Yang Qi wandered around the first floor, then slipped into the elevator with other customers and rode straight up to the seventieth floor. Ding—the elevator doors opened, and Yang Qi stepped out. Standing at the door, she glanced around. Yep, the hall was huge, the decor was fancy, the equipment was modern—whatever you could think of, it was there.
Looks like this bank really is loaded.
But... behind those sunglasses, Yang Qi’s eyes narrowed. She carefully watched the guys and gals serving customers behind the counters. She couldn’t shake the feeling these people weren’t ordinary. Sure, in this world, lots of folks have a faint murderous vibe, but these ones? Way more obvious.
Just as Yang Qi was about to keep observing—ding—the elevator behind her opened again. A voice rang out: "Nobody move!" Even through the electronic voice changer, you could hear the sheer viciousness. That kind of drama... it had to be that lunatic Amoeba!
As she thought that, someone dashed past Yang Qi, leapt onto a table, and—bam—wore a giant mascot head, spinning twin pistols around their index fingers before grabbing them with a flourish and speaking in a slow, threatening voice: "Anyone moves, anyone dies..." If you wanted to act cool, this was over the top.
Yang Qi slapped her forehead. That guy’s mascot head was actually a giant Zheng Daocheng face.
"Down! Down! Everybody get down!" Another voice called out, "Hey, I’m talking to you—get down!" Yang Qi turned to look, instantly speechless. This one was also wearing a giant Zheng Daocheng head, but below that: huge chest, tiny tank top, jeans, pure street punk vibes...
And that person, seeing Yang Qi, paused for a moment and gave her a once-over: unforgettable, hideous tracksuit style...
Both pointed at each other: "What are you doing here?!"
……………………………………
Three minutes earlier, inside the high-speed elevator of Morningstar Bank.
Xiao Di glared at Amoeba and warned, "Do you know what you’re supposed to do? Go over the script!" Getting him to memorize the script ahead of time was a trick Xiao Di and Zheng Daocheng came up with to keep Amoeba’s transformations somewhat under control.
"No problem, boss! I’m a pro." Amoeba saluted, then his face and voice turned wicked: "I’m the evil bandit, here to unleash dark justice and take all the fat bankers’ money, then give it to my lovely fiancée Xiao Di..."
Xiao Di smacked her forehead: "Who’s your fiancée?!"
Ding—the elevator stopped at the thirtieth floor. The doors opened, and a burly man walked in with a bag. It was Zheng Daocheng. "All set," Zheng Daocheng said, opening a zipper and handing out guns to the two of them. Looks like he’d found a way to sneak weapons past the bank’s security.
"Once we pull off this job, we’ll have all the funds we need." Xiao Di explained the plan to her two subordinates: "This time, we go in fast and get out even faster, so we’re leaving the slowpokes behind. For certain reasons, let’s avoid exposing our identities. Daocheng, did you bring the disguises?"
Zheng Daocheng smiled, opened another bag, and pulled out a giant mascot head.
"Wait..." Even Amoeba was stunned by the headgear. "You made a head, and you’re going to pretend to be—yourself?"
"What’s the problem?" Zheng Daocheng put the giant head over his own head, making his voice muffled: "In Steelbullet City, who doesn’t want to be Zheng Daocheng?"
Amoeba blinked, thought for a moment, then shrugged and nodded: "Fair enough." Then, he put on the head and shouted, "I’m the evil bandit—Big-Head Zheng!"
Ding—the seventieth floor arrived, the elevator doors opened, and Amoeba rushed out: "Nobody move!" Zheng Daocheng strode out too, firing a few rounds into the air to keep everyone in line. The guests in the hall immediately ducked and covered their heads—like they’d done this a million times. The only person still standing at the elevator door was Xiao Di. She stared at the other person for a moment, both recognizing each other at the same time, then pointed and yelled: "What are you doing here?!"
Then, in perfect unison, they both answered, "Obviously, I’m here to rob the bank!" (Tonight I’m coughing up blood to crank out a third chapter!)