Chapter 152 - Bloody washing (1) (2/2)

From time to time, some suspicious-looking men come in and out of that place, seems to come here for make fun. I smoke one cigarette after another. In the smoke, I feel I myself like a poisonous snake waiting for its prey.

Finally, at six o’clock in the evening, the target I’ve been waiting for is coming! A black Ford slowly enters the street and stops at the door of that place. The driver jumps out of the car first, then pulls the back cardoor open, and then I see Sand Snake comes out.

He looks fatter and stronger than in the photo. However, the face looks vaguely with a kind of gangster’s unique fierce temperament, especially the scar on the forehead, vaguely glossy. His hair is also short, with only a layer of bruises. He is touching his head and striding into the door.

I squint at the driver standing at the door smoking. Waiting for about five minutes, I slowly stand up, and carefully stub out the cigarette end.

I push the door open slowly, bowing my head, walking slowly into the street towards the driver, and then walking past him without expression. I notice that he seems to glance up at me. There’s a kind of scrutiny in his eyes, but he turns away after only one glance. I open the opposite store door and go in.

There’s a narrow corridor in the shop. Two women in full make-up are standing behind the counter, all dressing in long T-shirts and shorts, with a low neckline showing half of their breasts. When they see me coming in, one of them greet me immediately. She seems to greet me in Cantonese, but I don’t understand it at all. But I probably understand that she might ask me if I’m looking for a prostitute. I just say “OK” briefly. She immediately leads me in and deliberately walking in front of me, twisting the slim snake-like waist.

Obviously, the chairs and mirrors for hairdressing outside are all furnished, and the small boxes behind are the main places. I’m taken to a small dark room in the back. There is no door in this room, only separates by a cloth curtain. The woman leads me in, then goes out and lays down the curtain.

There’s only one lounge chair in this small room, which kind of people can lie down and wash their hair. I carefully pull out a mask from my pocket and put it on, take off my coat, turn inside out, and put it on again. As soon as I have finished all these, the curtain is lifted and a girl in a low-cut blouse and skirt comes in.

I can’t tell her age from the heavy make-up on her face. She’s wearing slippers with a distinct look of fatigue, but reluctantly energetic. When she comes in, she suddenly sees a man standing in front of her in a mask. She’s stunned. Her subconscious reaction is to shout. I have gone up to cover her mouth, and the other hand pinching her neck from the side, pulling her over hard, tying her with the elbow, and then raising my hand to give her a heavy knock on the artery behind her neck.

She’s softening with a groan.

I loosen her, lift the curtain and go out.

This is a corridor. On both sides of the corridor are lots of almost the same boxes. There are curtains hanging at the door of each room, and some of the room are sounding the suspicious noises.

I walk through the corridor all the way inside slowly, and then come to the end of it, which is a closed door. I push it and find it’s locked. Then I pull a paper clip out of my pocket, straighten it, and jab it into the lock.

This kind of inferior door lock, just stab it twice, it’s opened silently. I hear the music of an old song and the sound of water.

I take a deep breath, crouching down, walking in quietly.

It’s obviously a separate compartment. On a retractable chair, Sand Snake is half lying, facing upward, his face covers with shaving cream. His eyes close, puts his hands on the armrests on both sides of the chair and tapping with the beats of the music from time to time. A woman with her back toward me is standing in the middle of the chair and the pool. From her back, she’s very tall and has a slender snake-like waist., She’s taking a brush and keep applying shaving cream to Sand Snake’s jaw carefully. There’s a razor on the edge of the pool.

Sand Snake is obviously in high spirits. His hands are sliding down quickly and touching up along the woman’s calf bit by bit. I hear the woman’s coquettish giggling. She knocks off Sand Snake’s hands at will. Then she’s whispering something, twisting her waist to the pool and picking up the razor.

I’m waiting quietly at the door, hiding behind the wall and observing. As soon as the woman turns around and come, I just shrink back.

As the footsteps is coming closer and closer, the woman comes to the door. I immediately put my hand around her neck and pulling her aside without any noise. I hit her on the chin with a very accurate punch, which can cause a person to faint in a short time.

Then I enter the room silently.