Avoiding the crowds and police cars, Bella carried her bags around to the other side of the parking lot to get her truck.
Her pickup looked extremely badass.In Phoenix—an inland city full of idle wanderers—there were plenty of homeless guys who would stroll around town and, upon seeing a nice car, casually walk up and scratch it with a knife.
A normal car getting scratched was unfortunate but manageable.But a Ghost Pickup was different—if someone messed with it, the ghostly young lady inside could drag them in and kill them.
To prevent anything like that, Bella usually parked her truck in a corner and had the ghost girl activate her invisibility mode.Unless someone was literally on the verge of death, normal people wouldn't be able to see the truck at all.
This trick always worked.Who would wander into a parking lot while dying?And normal people couldn't see the truck without Bella's permission anyway.
But today—something went wrong.
The blood trail was faint; without sharp eyesight or smell, it was easy to miss.
Bella looked left and right, then sighed.
Trouble followed her everywhere. She must have been infected by Natasha's "bad luck magnet" physique.
She opened the door and found the ghost girl—in a white dress—sitting in the passenger seat.In the back seat lay a man covered in blood.
It was the same middle-aged cashier from the convenience store—the guy who tried to be clever, hid behind her, and ended up taking three bullets.
He was on the brink of death. Otherwise, with an ordinary human's spiritual awareness, he would never have seen the invisible Ghost Pickup.
"What's going on?" Bella asked the ghost.
Ever since the ghost girl devoured the spirit of the Ghost Truck, her spiritual form had stabilized.A portion of her memories and thought patterns had returned—sometimes she even expressed anger, frustration, or confusion.
"Take me home."
Bella sensed the emotions hidden within the ghostly energy."You mean… this guy is your friend? You know him?"
The ghost girl seemed to think for a moment."Take me home."
"Oh! So you don't know him.Great, that makes things easier."
The man's identity was definitely problematic.Bella didn't want to meddle, but she was curious.
She went through his wallet.There were several notes—messy and random—but also four or five IDs.
The driver's license was in English, with the name Christopher da Silva.The name looked fake.Other documents weren't even in English.One of them looked like… Russian.
The man was drifting in and out of consciousness.He had been shot in the shoulder, chest, and abdomen.He was soaked in blood—barely hanging on.
Bella lightly patted his shoulder.
"Comrade, vodka?"
No reaction.
"Comrade, PPSh?"
Still nothing.
"Ura!"
She shouted the only Russian battle cry she knew, then admitted defeat.She had only learned those three lines from Natasha.She knew nothing else.
"Comrade, I'm sorry. Dragging you into this was my fault.But unfortunately, I don't have healing abilities.There's no time to study them now.This is fate…I can't heal you.You're gonna die.Goodbye."
Bella grabbed him by the collar, dragged him out of the back seat, and dumped him on the ground.
As she turned to leave, the man suddenly grabbed her ankle.
"S-save me… save… me!Save me!I'm MI6… agent… 006…I know important intelligence…I'm worth saving…worth… saving…"
His survival instinct was strong.He begged repeatedly in English.
Bella pried his fingers off.Even healthy, he couldn't overpower her—much less now.But he was persistent.She pried his hand away and he grabbed her again.She pried again—he grabbed again.Three times in a row.
Only after the third attempt did his strength finally collapse.His blood-soaked right hand grasped at empty air, trying desperately to catch the last thread of hope.
His sheer will to live shocked Bella.If she were in his place, she would've accepted death already.
"Grabbing me won't help. How do you even treat gunshots? I don't know!"
She scratched her head.Develop a healing spell on the spot?Sorry—she wasn't capable of that yet.
"Take me home," the ghost girl said, pointing at the wounded man.
Bella frowned."You mean… you know battlefield first aid?"
"Take me home."
"…You said it, not me.Fine. I'll make another trip and find some medical supplies."
In her rush, most medicines were hard to find—so she suddenly remembered Dr. Brandon from the jury.His clinic wasn't far from the parking lot.And the Infatuation Spell was still in effect.
A few words were enough—she took his emergency kit and hurried back.
The Ghost Pickup left no stains; spilled blood was automatically absorbed by the vehicle.Bella laid Agent 006 flat on the back seat and began treating him under the ghost girl's guidance.
"Take me home."
"Okay, okay."
Bella poured alcohol on his wounds, sterilized a scalpel, and began digging for the bullets.But after several minutes of cutting—she found nothing.
"Take me home."
"…What?The bullets didn't stay inside?They passed through?Why didn't you say that earlier?!I dug for nothing—"
"Take me home."
"…Don't like how I'm stitching him?Come on! I'm a high schooler covered in blood trying to save him.This is already impressive!Easy for you to criticize from the sidelines.Let's ask the patient—hey! Does this look good to you?See? He's not saying anything.That means he thinks it's acceptable!"
She injected several medications she couldn't even name into Agent 006 to maintain his vital functions, then cleaned the wounds, stitched them up, and administered a blood transfusion.
The whole process took less than half an hour.A bit rough, but from the outside—it looked like he had been saved.
Of course, receiving treatment inside the Ghost Pickup came with side effects.The interior was filled with heavy negative energy.Normal people were fine, but someone hovering between life and death would definitely be affected—leaving behind "small issues."
Bella and the ghost girl analyzed it together.They concluded that Agent 006 might experience mild side symptoms in the coming days—things like epilepsy, dizziness, poor blood flow to the brain…Or he might awaken some supernatural ability, like seeing ghosts.
All were "normal."Any bigger problem—he could go to a hospital.
Agent 006 had long since passed out from blood loss.Bella couldn't dump him in the parking lot to die.If she was going to help, she had to follow through.At least find him a warm place to rest.
"Take me home."
"OK, OK! Home. We're going home."
Bella tossed Agent 006 back into the rear seat, got into the truck, and drove the Ghost Pickup out of the parking lot.