Jason's knee strike was blocked, so he followed up with a sharp elbow aimed at Avril. She barely deflected it, but in that moment, Jason slipped behind her and locked his arm tightly around her neck.
In the next second, he was ready to snap her neck—but the van suddenly veered with a sharp turn. Jason lost his footing before he could exert force, and both of them tumbled to the floor. By the time they scrambled back up, his brief advantage had already vanished.
Jason shot a sharp glare toward the driver's seat—at Zheng Anshun. A flash of killing intent flickered in his eyes, but Zheng stared right back at him without flinching. If they'd had time to switch places, he would've loved to go head-to-head with this guy. Anyone who could beat Avril to that extent was worth fighting. Zheng was itching for a real match.
Jason subtly scanned the floor—his gun had been knocked loose during the chaos. But the others immediately noticed. All three were seasoned operatives. No one missed that glance.
Their gazes darted across the cabin. Jason and Avril were both searching for the weapon. Zheng tightened his grip on the steering wheel, ready to yank it hard if necessary. If anyone but Avril reached the gun, he would swerve the van again without hesitation.
Suddenly, everyone's eyes locked on the same spot—at Eddie's feet.
Eddie saw it too. Amid the chaos, he had managed to break his zip-tie cuffs with a frayed shoelace, and now a Glock lay right in front of him. But he also felt the wolfish stares from the others—each one sizing him up.
Pick it up or leave it? It was a choice—but it could also be a death sentence.
Unlike the earlier moment upstairs, this time there was no room for hesitation. None of the others would give him time to think. Almost reflexively, Eddie reached for the Glock—but just as he grabbed it, Jason lashed out with a powerful side kick to his chest.
Pain exploded through Eddie's torso, and before he knew it, he was crashing through the van's rear doors and flying out into the open.
The van had already entered a major roadway—a suspension bridge spanning a glimmering river below.
The interior had been filled with blinding dry chemical powder only moments earlier. As it swerved down the road like a drunkard, trailing chaos, it had already terrified the drivers behind it. Now, with the rear doors flung open and a man flying out, pandemonium erupted. Tires screeched. Horns blared. Metal crunched. Cars collided in a domino of chaos.
Eddie hit the pavement, rolling violently. Dazed, he opened his eyes just as a car skidded to a halt inches in front of him, engine hissing steam onto his face. He snapped fully awake, drenched in cold sweat.
He sat on the ground, limbs trembling. He had brushed shoulders with death countless times in his line of work, but this—this had been far too close. If that car hadn't stopped in time, he'd have been ground to paste under several tons of metal.
The bridge descended into a scene of utter disorder. The traffic behind Eddie had come to a standstill. Honking, shouting, and crashing sounds filled the air. Curious drivers were stepping out to investigate, many visibly angry. A few stomped toward Eddie, ready to confront the man they thought had caused all this.
But then they froze.
Despite his battered clothes, bloodied face, and overall disheveled appearance, Eddie was holding a gun.
He spat out a mouthful of blood, staggering to his feet. He had escaped death twice now. He wasn't sure if he was lucky or cursed.
As for the people approaching him? Eddie didn't give a damn. He had a gun—and even if he didn't, these civilians were nothing to him. Just bigger sheep. He couldn't handle Avril, but these nobodies? They were just fodder.
He stumbled across to the opposite lane, eyes scanning for a car he could steal. He needed to get the hell out of here—away from those lunatics. His mind, cleared by adrenaline and trauma, began ticking. If that mystery man managed to kill Avril, great. If not, he'd find two more to finish the job. So long as Avril was alive, he'd never know peace. She had to die.
…
Inside the speeding van, Jason and Avril clashed once again. Avril, drained of stamina, barely managed to block two elbow strikes. The third landed squarely on her cheek, sending blood spurting from her nose.
Jason seized the moment and slipped behind her again, wrapping his arms tightly around her throat. Avril struggled fiercely, preventing her neck from snapping—but she couldn't stop Jason from slowly tightening his chokehold.
"Cough cough…"
Her lungs felt like they were about to burst. Breathing became more and more difficult.
Jason was fully locked onto her. Legs wrapped around her lower body. Arms cinched in a cross choke. Her desperate backward elbows were absorbed without flinching—he refused to let go. No matter how hard Zheng swerved the vehicle, this chokehold couldn't be shaken. Avril was being slowly dragged into the abyss.
After several failed rescue attempts, Zheng had had enough. He jammed a wrench into the gas pedal and left the driver's seat. If he didn't act now, Jason would kill Avril. At the very least, he had to force a disengagement.
Jason reluctantly released Avril and turned to face Zheng Anshun.
Zheng bypassed Avril and lunged at him. His relatively compact frame gave him an advantage in the cramped space. The two men collided in a blur of elbows, knees, and vicious strikes. Their style: all offense, no defense. It was a brutal battle of attrition.
Jason blocked one punch, then slammed Zheng into the wall of the van. Elbows rained down like hammers—but after only two hits, pain flared in his gut. Zheng had kneed him mid-combo and hurled him against the opposite wall. He followed up with another flurry of attacks.
As the two crashed into the walls, Avril knelt in the corner, coughing violently. Bent over, tears and snot streaming down her face, she looked utterly wrecked. She had come seconds away from death. If Zheng had been even a few moments later, Jason would've snapped her neck.
Outside, cars on the opposite side of the bridge flowed smoothly. But the lane behind the van was in complete disarray—just a few cars up front, and empty chaos behind.
The van, still hurtling forward, had drifted off-course due to the interior brawl. The steering wheel had shifted slightly during the fighting, and now the van was on a collision course—with no one realizing it.
Still locked in combat, Jason and Zheng were evenly matched. Zheng was fresh and fierce, but Jason was riding the peak effects of a performance enhancer. Despite everything, his strength hadn't faded.
Zheng slammed Jason into the wall again and pounced. But in that instant, Jason caught sight of a steel beam through the windshield—getting closer by the second. There was no time to react fully.
He couldn't stop Zheng's next strike, but his eyes flicked toward a seatbelt anchor on the wall.
With split-second timing, he looped the belt around his arm—
CRASH!
The van slammed into the beam.
It embedded into the structure with a deafening screech, the front of the vehicle torn nearly in half. And Avril—still reeling, still recovering—was launched straight out through the missing windshield.
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