Hui Zi had somehow managed to scrounge up a car from somewhere.

When Ning Fan laid eyes on this vehicle, he realized that their previous ride could actually be considered luxurious by comparison.

The exterior of this car could hardly even be called scrap metal. Various pieces of metal were haphazardly patched together, with a few grimy plastic boards nailed on top.

When the car lurched into motion, it emitted a series of ominous creaks, as if it might disintegrate at any moment.

"Where'd you dig this up?"

Qiao Fei looked thoroughly unimpressed.

"Snagged it from the black market," Hui Zi said with a shrug. "After divvying up all the cash, we only had a bit over 4,000 Solas left. This jalopy only set us back 3,000."

"Fine," Qiao Fei said resignedly, then turned to Ning Fan. "Did you leave the Solas for your family?"

Just earlier, Ning Fan had taken the Solas she'd given him and left alone, returning not long after.

"Yeah," Ning Fan nodded with a bitter smile. "Slipped it through the door crack. Didn't dare go in."

Qiao Fei didn't press further. "Get in."

This time, Ning Fan was behind the wheel.

Qiao Fei and Hui Zi's faces were too well-known; slipping out wouldn't be a cakewalk.

So they had to rely on Ning Fan, a fresh face, to deal with the guards at the district wall.

As they rolled up to the main gate of the district wall, two guards were leaning against the wall, shooting the breeze.

Ning Fan recognized one of them as the man who had pocketed 1,000 Solas from Lin Chuan when they left before.

"Heading out to the wild? Which outfit you with?" the guard asked casually as he sauntered over, going through the motions.

"Wind-Cutting Group, on a job," Ning Fan replied with the excuse they had cooked up earlier.

"Wind-Cutting Group?" The guard sidled up to the window.

Ning Fan felt his muscles tense.

Qiao Fei and Hui Zi in the back also put their hands on their weapons.

By now, the news of Yang Beihai's murder had spread like wildfire within the district, and everyone was out for their blood.

If they were rumbled, they'd have to fight their way out tooth and nail!

"Didn't your team leader just blow this popsicle stand?" The guard's expression turned suspicious.

Ning Fan's heart sank.

Talk about rotten luck. They'd chosen to impersonate the Wind-Cutting Group, but they had just left!

They'd walked right into the lion's den!

At that moment, the guard peered through the car window and spotted Qiao Fei and Hui Zi in the back!

All three of them froze like deer in headlights.

"Lin Chuan... bit the dust out there?" Just as the two were about to make their move, the guard asked, his voice tinged with emotion.

No one in the car uttered a word.

The guard bit his lip and gazed towards the inner district. "The poor sap you offed... was he mixed up in Brother Chuan's death?"

He'd also gotten the memo that someone from the Stray Dog Pack had taken out Yang Beihai.

When he clocked only Qiao Fei and Hui Zi in the car, the penny seemed to drop.

"Pop the door. I'll see you out," the guard suddenly said to Ning Fan.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Ning Fan was floored. He swiveled his head to look at the other two, seeking their take.

Seeing their wariness, the guard stripped off his weapons and tossed them to his buddy.

"I'm stepping out for a bit. Keep your eyes peeled..." he said.

"Roger that, Brother Zhao. Watch your six," his companion waved.

Qiao Fei cracked open the back door, and the guard hopped in without missing a beat.

With the guard leading the charge, his companion swung open the main gate, waving them through.

"Why are you sticking your neck out for us?" Qiao Fei finally broke the silence. "The three of us are down to our last 1,000 Solas. If you're after a cut..."

The guard wordlessly fished out a wad of Solas from his pocket and placed it on the car seat.

"Life on the lam's no picnic. It ain't much, but whatever I can spare... is yours."

The guard then produced a pack of smokes. Flipping it open revealed only two left inside.

He offered one to Hui Zi, then extended the other to Qiao Fei. "Scored these from the Gifted Path. The real deal, I swear. Saw the sorters pluck 'em from the pile myself! These two sticks? 100 Solas a pop! It's the brand those Upper City bigwigs can't get enough of. Been saving 'em, never had the heart to light up. Have at it!"

Faced with the proffered cigarettes, neither of them made a move to accept.

"Why?" Hui Zi pressed.

The guard cracked a smile, his eyes betraying a hint of melancholy.

"Every time Lin Chuan shepherded you lot out, he'd slip me 1,000 Solas."

Both Hui Zi and Qiao Fei were in the know, and Ning Fan had witnessed it too.

The guard heaved a sigh and continued, "The first few times, I pocketed it without a second thought. But as time wore on, it started to feel... unnecessary. Lin Chuan was being too damn generous! Later on, I felt like a right moocher taking the money. So I put it to him straight, 'Why do you keep greasing my palm every time? Got more dough than you know what to do with?'"

Truth be told, everyone in the Stray Dog Pack had been scratching their heads over Lin Chuan's peculiar habit.

That money was earned with blood, sweat, and tears. Tossing 1,000 to the guard each time was no chump change!

But whenever someone brought it up, Lin Chuan would just flash that easy smile of his and say, "It's just pocket change. Not worth making a fuss over!"

"You want to know what Lin Chuan really said?" The guard fixed them with a penetrating gaze.

"He said he wasn't throwing this money at me out of some misplaced generosity, or because he was rolling in it. He only hoped that if one day, his pups got into a tight spot outside but managed to drag themselves back, I'd... lift the gate for them, not cut off the lifeline for these poor bastards."

The guard let out a heavy sigh, "He said, in our line of work, kicking the bucket out there is par for the course. But he couldn't stand the thought of his own pups, who'd crawled all the way back home, being stonewalled by some cold slab of concrete."

Hui Zi lost it again, the waterworks in full flow.

Even Qiao Fei's eyes were rimmed with red.

Ning Fan kept his eyes on the road, feeling a lump the size of a fist in his throat.

When they'd left the district, he'd seen the carnage outside.

Back then, Lin Chuan had seemed utterly indifferent, displaying an almost cold-blooded disregard for the grisly scene.

He couldn't afford to give a damn about the life and death of strangers.

But for the pups under his wing, he cared deeply and guarded them with every fiber of his being.

"I've seen my fair share of Marauder crews, but leaders who give two shits about their kids? Few and far between," the guard lit up a smoke for himself and blew a lazy ring out the window. "The man had my respect!"

"Thank you," Qiao Fei said, her tone formal.

The guard's lips quirked up, "Don't thank me. Thank your Brother Chuan."

With that, the guard popped the car door and hopped out, tossing a wave over his shoulder.

"If you can keep breathing, make it count! In this dog-eat-dog hellhole, having someone who genuinely gives a damn about you is rarer than hen's teeth! Don't piss on his memory!"

Ning Fan could barely make out the road ahead, his vision blurring.

He found himself thinking...

If only he'd thrown in his lot with the Stray Dog Pack sooner.

His time with Lin Chuan had been cut brutally short.

Qiao Fei turned away, but Ning Fan caught sight of a glistening tear tracing its way down her cheek in the rearview mirror.

"Back when Brother Chuan first started greasing that guard's palm, I tore into him..." Qiao Fei muttered, almost to herself. "I said, 'If you're so keen on playing Santa, do it on your own dime. I'm not about to share our hard-earned cash with some random schmuck.'"

As the words left her mouth, Qiao Fei – the woman who always seemed cold enough to freeze hell over – buried her face in her hands and began to sob in earnest.

"Brother Chuan handed me the reins, but... he never got around to teaching me how to drive this damn thing!"

"Sister Fei, Brother Hui," Ning Fan rolled up his sleeve and swiped at his eyes, which burned with a newfound resolve. "If you're still mulling over our next move, I've got a proposition."

The two fixed their tear-stained gazes on Ning Fan, whose own eyes were noticeably puffy.

Ning Fan gritted his teeth and forced out a few words.

"I say we make tracks for F27 District."

The penny dropped for both of them in an instant!

The War Bears weren't all six feet under yet!