The screech of tires still rang in Lin Wan's ears.
A dull ache pulsed from where her forehead had slammed into the window.
Her vision blurred.
But she didn't care about herself.
Her first instinct—
Was the carrier.
"Er-Dog!"
She lunged forward, reaching beneath the front seats where the airline crate had been flung.
The crate's side panel was dented inward.
From the ventilation holes came a suppressed, pained whimper—
Followed immediately by furious scratching.
And then—
A roar.
Silas.
BANG!
The passenger-side door was violently yanked open.
Before the driver could react, a black-gloved hand grabbed him and ripped him out of the vehicle.
He hit the pavement hard.
Another dark figure slid into the van with practiced speed.
His target was obvious.
The carrier.
Lin Wan's mind went blank.
But her body moved faster than thought.
She grabbed the unopened 1.5-liter bottle of mineral water from the convenience store bag beside her—
And swung with everything she had.
WHAM!
The heavy plastic bottle smashed into the attacker's forearm.
"F*ck!"
He recoiled in pain.
That fraction of a second was enough.
Lin Wan seized the carrier's handle—
And yanked it backward with desperate force.
At the same time, she kicked wildly.
The sharp heel of her shoe connected with something solid.
A grunt.A vicious curse.
"Crazy b*tch!"
The man clearly hadn't expected resistance.
Let alone this level of reckless fury.
He twisted, trying to reposition for another grab—
CLICK.
The carrier's latch gave way.
Shattered under impact.
Burst open from the inside.
A gray-white paw shot out.
Pressed against the door.
And—
KICKED.
BOOM!
The crate door exploded open.
And a gray-white blur launched out like a cannonball.
Silas.
He didn't bite first.
He used momentum.
His skull slammed brutally into the attacker's face.
CRACK!
"ARGH!!"
Blood sprayed.
The man staggered backward, collapsing out of the van in a tangle of limbs.
Silas landed hard on the van floor.
No hesitation.
Four paws dug in.
Body low.
Fur fully bristled.
Then—
He unleashed hell.
"WOOF!!GRRRR—WOOF WOOF WOOF!!!"
This wasn't barking.
It was war.
Each thunderous roar shook the van's interior.
Even the windshield seemed to vibrate.
His fangs flashed white.
Thick saliva dripped.
His blue eyes burned with raw, murderous intent.
No mockery.
No playfulness.
Only violence barely restrained.
Outside—
The second attacker, who had been restraining the driver, looked up—
And froze.
He met Silas's gaze.
And instinctively stepped back.
"Boss… this dog's not normal!"
His voice trembled.
The bloodied leader staggered upright, clutching his shattered nose.
His expression flickered between rage and fear.
What kind of husky was this?!
That presence—
That killing aura—
It was more terrifying than a Caucasian Shepherd.
"Fall back!" he barked hoarsely.
Neither man hesitated.
They abandoned the driver and sprinted toward their black sedan.
The engine roared to life.
Tires screamed.
And within seconds—
They vanished into the night.
Silence swallowed the street once more.
Broken only by—
Silas's heavy breathing.
And the low, rumbling growl still vibrating in his chest.
Lin Wan collapsed back into the seat.
Her heart hammered violently.
Her hand still clutched half a bottle of mineral water—
Shaking uncontrollably.
She stared at Silas.
At the towering, bristling figure standing between her and danger.
Like a living wall.
The driver stumbled back into the van, face pale as death.
"M-Miss Lin…"
"Was that a robbery… or…"
He swallowed hard.
"…something else?"
Lin Wan's voice was hoarse.
"I don't know."
A pause.
Then—
Resolve.
"Driver… please."
"Take us somewhere else."
Her mind flashed back to the notebook.
To the final line.
To the only lead they had.
"…Old Harbor District."
The driver's eyes widened.
"That area's abandoned… dangerous…"
"And at this hour—"
"Please."
Her tone left no room for argument.
"I'll double the fare."
Because she understood now.
This wasn't random.
They weren't targeting money.
They were targeting—
Silas.
Home was no longer safe.
Anywhere familiar was compromised.
Old Harbor District might be dangerous—
But it was also the only place tied to a clue.
A direction.
A chance.
The driver glanced at Silas.
At those icy blue eyes still scanning the darkness.
And wisely chose silence.
The engine started.
The van rolled forward.
Toward the city's forgotten edge.
Toward rust.
Toward fish stench.
Toward—
Whatever was waiting in Warehouse No. 7.