C10 The Boss Who Did Things Without Thinking

To ascertain the effects of this particular tobacco, Bao Guo once again needed the help of his best friend, Guibao. This time, he couldn't risk taking a high-speed bus and opted to drive himself, as the stakes were a matter of life and death.

Bao Guo harbored a deep fear that the tobacco might induce hallucinations, which would classify it as a drug. Generally, drugs are categorized as natural, semi-synthetic, or fully synthetic, and functionally as depressants, stimulants, or hallucinogens. So far, the tobacco hadn't produced effects akin to those of sleeping pills or tranquilizers like triazolam.

Nor had it caused any hallucinations. Thus, it likely wasn't a hallucinogenic drug. But what about its stimulating effects? His mind was exceptionally clear—could this be a form of stimulation? His body hadn't experienced any excessive excitement; it was only his mind that had become remarkably alert. He needed to get to the bottom of this.

He had to understand whether consuming this substance could lead to any severe consequences for the human body.

Another matter was pressing on his mind: he had an early appointment the next day with a police officer, who was bringing his wife for a dental cleaning. A promise was a promise, and he intended to keep it.

...

Back at home, Bao Guo lay on his traditional brick bed, wrestling with the aches and pains that wracked his body. The discomfort kept him awake, yet it also provided an unmatched sense of reality. He had been living in a fog for too long; it was time to take life seriously.

He rose to secure his grandparents' belongings in his mental storage space, wary that the so-called toothpaste factory managers with the surname Jin might break in and wreak havoc once he left.

The story he had concocted for the village committee was premeditated, designed to deflect any inquiries and facilitate easy responses.

Bao Guo's grandparents, when they were alive, served as village doctors in Liu Family Village. They were barefoot doctors with a modest understanding of herbal medicine and some knowledge of acupuncture. They couldn't treat serious illnesses but did what they could for minor ones, devoting their lives to the villagers, young and old. As a result, the villagers held their family in high regard.

Now, Bao Guo used his grandfather's herbal book as a guise. He wasn't concerned about the villagers, who were faring much better these days. With the basics covered, he had no fear of people's questions. As for those with hidden agendas, they could try whatever tactics they wanted against him. In his old house, nearly everything was purchased from the market. The most valuable item was probably the meat in the fridge. Maybe, just maybe, no one would think to steal some meat before their arrival.

Bao Guo had thoroughly searched the old house, realizing that while the furniture was immovable, he could store all the other old belongings, including photographs, in his mental space. With everything secured in his mind, he finally relaxed enough to wash up and head to bed.

...

The next day broke with the clamor of motorcycles, rousing Bao Guo from his sleep. Judging by the noise, a significant number of bikes had arrived.

Upon opening the door of his Sundry Goods Store, Bao Guo was greeted by a swarm of youths on rugged off-road and Hellfire motorcycles, crowding around a Toyota Prado that blocked his entrance.

"Do you have to make such a racket this early? Stop disturbing the peace and kill the engines, will you?" Bao Guo grumbled, his irritation clear. Even if they were customers for dental cleaning, they had no right to disregard the local villagers' comfort.

A bald middle-aged man emerged from the vehicle, standing at a mere 1.6 meters. Next to Bao Guo, he seemed like a child beside an adult. Despite the chilly ten-degree weather of the late autumn morning, the man was shirtless, his tattoos stretching from his stomach to his neck, and the stench of alcohol wafted from him even at a distance.

"Kid," he belched, "I sent Jingjing and the big sister to discuss a partnership with you yesterday, and you had the nerve to call the cops on them. Well done. Now, you've got two choices: hand over your formula or I break your limbs and find it myself. Make the smart choice—don't do anything foolish."

Bao Guo felt a chill run down his spine. He had feared retribution but hadn't expected an early morning visit from nearly twenty thugs, each armed with iron chains or aluminum baseball bats. He knew he'd be at a serious disadvantage if things turned violent.

"Listen, I don't have any formula. Those girls weren't arrested by the police—they were here to stir up trouble. My shop's security camera is linked to the public security system. They got rough with me, and the camera automatically alerted the police. If you're here for a teeth cleaning, I'll give you a few boxes on the house," Bao Guo said, his eyes wide as he spun his tale, hoping to defuse the situation. If these guys turned on him, he had no idea how he'd handle it.

"Spit it out, you think you're dealing with a beggar? What good are a few boxes of toothpaste to me? You've got one minute. Hand over the formula, or we'll beat it out of you. Move it!" The surrounding thugs burst into laughter, egging him on. Bao Guo knew there was no escaping this time. He slowly backed up, inching towards the empty space behind the counter where a sharpened long saber, its handle wrapped in cloth, lay hidden—a purchase from the local farmers' market. If these guys charged into his shop, he'd have no choice but to fight for his life, hoping that if it came down to it, self-defense would be his legal justification.

"Pin him down, don't let him get inside. And be quick about it! Watch out for the cameras; don't let them catch your face." Surprisingly, the gang leader actually fell for Bao Guo's bluff.

Gritting his teeth, Bao Guo was about to make a dash for the house when he heard the sound of a car engine revving up, racing towards them. The aggressive roar could be heard from blocks away.

The thugs, ready to pounce on Bao Guo, turned at the sound and froze. That was a police car, for crying out loud.

"What are you idiots waiting for? Get him! Find that formula and don't worry about the cops—I'll handle them. Once we have the formula, we'll be living the high life. Go!"

The underlings, still tipsy from the previous night's drinking, let out a collective roar and charged forward, only to be stopped by the sharp crack of a gunshot nearby.

"Nobody move! Hands on your heads and get down on the ground. This is your first warning. Don't make me shoot."

Bao Guo's heart raced with relief. The police had arrived just in time, and most crucially, they were armed. That changed everything. Even if the officer had come alone, without a gun, he might have been able to intimidate the thugs, but he wouldn't have been able to apprehend them. Now, with a gun in the equation, the problem seemed solvable.

"Spit in your face! You've got nothing but a lousy gun with, what, six or seven bullets tops? I've got seventeen men here. Even if you took us on one by one, the last man standing would finish you off. Brothers, let's move in together and take this punk down. We have to get that formula."

The officer, fresh out of his car, hadn't anticipated encountering these tattooed gangsters, who had been lying low due to the nation's crackdown on organized crime. Yet today, he had stumbled upon them. As he radioed his team for backup, he cautioned his wife to stay put in the car. Then, with his gun at the ready, he stepped out.

"This is your second warning: cease your unlawful activities. Hands on your heads and get down on the ground. Otherwise, I am authorized to use my weapon."

"Brothers, let's do this. Take down Bao Guo first. Charge!"

Bao Guo's heart sank. The crime boss, clearly inebriated, had just issued a command that was sure to escalate the situation. A major confrontation was imminent.