Chapter Sixty-Eight: The One Who Seeks Help

"I'm so sorry, I only just heard about it today. Qiu... don't be sad, everything will pass. It will get better, alright? Or... should I come back and keep you company..."
Elisa was video calling Qiu Fengyu again.
"No, I'm fine. Do I look unhappy to you?" Qiu Fengyu made a silly face at Elisa.
"Oh, come on, are you crying? Don’t tell me that’s supposed to be a smile! Your expression is hilarious!"
"Alright, I admit, I’m crying because I’ve lost my house and I’m homeless. I’ll have to go to Los Angeles to find Elisa—maybe you’ll find me a bag..."
"What bag?" Elisa was a bit surprised.
"Uh... just a bag to put me in and hang me on the wall." Qiu Fengyu realized the joke might only make sense among Chinese, and scratched his head, a little embarrassed.
"Haha... that’s a great idea!" Elisa laughed on the other end.
After chatting for a while and seeing that Qiu Fengyu was indeed unaffected, Elisa hung up, stretched comfortably, and relaxed.
"Have you really fallen for this Chinese guy?" asked the chubby girl beside her.
"Fallen for him? Ha—why not?" Elisa smiled. "Handsome, intelligent, elegant, and so mature... much better than those who pretend to be extraordinary."
"You mean your admirers?" the chubby girl teased, grinning. "Oh, honey, you want to bring him to Los Angeles? No, you can’t do this to me, you’ll definitely move out..."
"Don’t worry, I won’t live with him. He’s not my boyfriend yet!" Elisa winked at her.
"So when are you going to accept him?"
When would she accept him? Elisa shook her head. That would depend on when that rascal spoke those sweet words to her. But... was she really ready to be with him? The thought of suddenly moving to a romantic relationship made Elisa hesitate.
Qiu Fengyu had no idea about Elisa’s inner turmoil after hanging up. He turned around, grabbed the baton, and shouted at Tim, "Hurry up, come here, kid, let me torment you. Let me show you what close combat is all about. Come on..." Now was his favorite time: tormenting kids.
Qiu Fengyu had to regain some confidence here.
When it came to shooting, Tim was practically God’s own creation—quick reflexes, excellent aim, especially sensitive to moving targets. Just a short period of training was enough to astonish anyone. With more practice, there was little left that Qiu Fengyu could teach him about shooting technique.
Tim’s future progress would depend on his on-the-spot reactions and judgement.
Qiu Fengyu had thought himself a bit of a freak, but Tim was even more so.
By the end, Tim was drenched in sweat and aching all over, but delighted. Every time they sparred, he improved rapidly. Now, if he faced Davis, that guy probably wouldn’t get the upper hand at all—he’d be the one getting beaten.
Tim was growing taller and his muscles were starting to develop—he was turning into a strong young man. Qiu Fengyu tossed him a towel and said with a laugh, "Tomorrow’s Saturday. I’ll take you somewhere fun."
"A bar?" Tim’s eyes lit up—he’d been longing to go to a bar.
"Don’t even think about it. You’ll find out tomorrow. Get up early!" Qiu Fengyu gave him a swat and walked off.
Tim, carrying his bag, caught up. "You harassed me."
"Patting your butt doesn’t count as harassment!"
"Try patting Officer Coffin’s butt and see what happens!" Tim grumbled darkly.
"Get out of here! Don’t walk with me, you’re making me angry just looking at you!" Qiu Fengyu snapped, half embarrassed and half annoyed. Tim just grinned and ran off.
He headed straight to Britt’s place. He had no choice—even if he didn’t want to, the attic only had room for one person.
But when he returned to the noodle shop, he saw the young Japanese man peering around, watching Qiu Fengyu, and frowned, walking over. "Hey, you, stop right there..."
Qiu Fengyu grabbed the young Japanese man.
"Masatoshi Yonekura?" Qiu Fengyu asked.
The young man struggled for a moment, but realizing he couldn’t break free from Qiu Fengyu’s iron grip, he gave up and nodded.
"What are you doing spying on my noodle shop?"
The young man was silent for a moment, then said, "I wanted to see if you were inside."
"Why run when you saw me return?" Qiu Fengyu found this a bit amusing and let go.
Masatoshi Yonekura hesitated, then said quietly, "Someone in town is giving me trouble. I heard you’re on good terms with them, and... you’re the only one I know..."
Qiu Fengyu nodded, understanding, and smiled, "You mean those Russians?"
"No... just a few from town, the ones who manage those Russian women..."
"You got yourself in trouble with some women?" Qiu Fengyu laughed.
Masatoshi Yonekura flushed red, wishing he could disappear. But the problem had to be solved, so he continued, "Yes, they’re blackmailing me, demanding money... I owe them gambling debts—twenty thousand dollars. Normally, it’s nothing, but I can’t pay right now, and I can’t ask my parents..."
"So how do you want me to help you?" Qiu Fengyu smiled at him.
Seeing Qiu Fengyu’s friendly face, Masatoshi grew hopeful and said, "Maybe you could talk to them, ask them not to blackmail me?"
Qiu Fengyu looked at him and shook his head. "I’ll give you a better solution. Want to hear it?"
Masatoshi nodded eagerly, eyes full of hope.
"Call the police!"
With that, Qiu Fengyu turned and walked into the noodle shop, not in the mood to deal with such a foolish, boring guy. If idiots like him weren’t extorted, what was the point of local gangs existing at all?
Rejected, Masatoshi peered into the shop for a while longer, then, seeing no hope, finally left.
Watching him go, Qiu Fengyu picked up the phone and called Davis.
"What’s going on with Masatoshi Yonekura?"
Davis burst out laughing on the other end. "Seems he got involved with a Russian girl. She’s out to get him, so she had the Russian gang send some guys to mess with him. They brought in some of the old crowd who used to run with David in town. We don’t need to get involved in this."
"Of course not, I was just curious!" Qiu Fengyu chuckled.
He was indeed just curious—such people weren’t worth helping. He knew that perfectly well.
That evening at the bar, Breckin couldn’t wait to tell Qiu Fengyu all about it. Apparently, Masatoshi couldn’t keep anything hidden; Breckin’s news always traveled fast.
"This wasn’t my doing," Breckin hurried to assure Qiu Fengyu, seeing his suspicious look. "It was the Russian girl. Who knows how he provoked her." He gestured toward a corner of the bar.
Qiu Fengyu glanced over. She was surprisingly pure-looking, dressed neatly, radiating an air of innocence. But one look made it clear she was not someone to mess with.
"They changed staff?"
"Of course. It’s a rotation. Women can’t stay in one place too long or people get bored," Breckin replied knowingly.
"You know why there was a fire that day?" Qiu Fengyu suddenly asked.
Breckin froze, then quickly shook his head. "I don’t know anything, I swear. But... the Russians definitely had something to do with it..." His mind worked fast. If he didn’t say something, he knew Qiu Fengyu wouldn’t let it go. Maybe Qiu Fengyu already knew it was the Russians, so he decided to do him a favor.
Qiu Fengyu downed his drink in one gulp, set the glass on the bar, and said, "This one’s on you!" Then he turned and left.
"No problem, it’s on me!" Breckin called after his retreating figure.