Wicker did not move, but calmly considered his situation.

The car sped forward, and it was dark outside, except for the reflective mileage sign painted on the side of the road that flashed with fluorescent, like the glowing eyes of a feline.

"Is the hotel the next exit?" Wicker asked, and he said lightly, his eyes still looking ahead.

"No, keep moving forward." The man said simply, and he twisted a few times in his seat, as if he wanted to put the box away but was reluctant to put it down, but he couldn't sit quietly at all.

"If you're staying in a hotel, there's the next exit." "Been there, the service was good, the beds were clean, the hot showers gave you a good shower, and ......"

"No need." The man suddenly shouted impatiently, and suddenly there was a hint of unfriendliness in his eyes, and his left hand reached to the bottom of the box.

"How about a treat?" Wicker asked with a flat expression, his pupils had already shrunk into a line if he looked closely.

"Shut up." The man suddenly roared fiercely, "Keep moving forward, to the North Island." ”

"I'm sorry! Not to go that far. Drop you off in front and you hail a cab again! Wicker said coldly, turning on the steering wheel and the car turned onto the outside road.

"Listen,, if you do what I say, you'll live until tomorrow." The man suddenly had a pistol in his hand, a Colt, the muzzle of the black hole was facing the driver, and he said viciously, "I don't mind killing one more person, especially a black man." ”

"Have you already killed someone?" Wicker asked slowly, holding back the anger in his chest. His foot inadvertently moved to the brakes and stepped lightly, slowing down.

"Maybe! Who knows? The man pondered. As if recalling something, "Some people's lives are long, maybe she just fainted." ”

"Aren't you going to kill me first and then use my car to escape!?" Wicker asked.

"Maybe you'll survive the night, or maybe the body will be in a garbage dump, depending on whether you're obedient." The man seemed to have felt the drop in speed, and his face changed and he shouted. "Don't slow down, keep driving forward, as you normally would."

"Who is she?" Wicker then asked.

The man avoided answering Wicker's question. He put a gun on his ribs and said, "Don't signal other cars, and don't expect police cars to chase you." ”

"As usual?" Wicker asked, laughing suddenly, as if he had an idea in mind.

"Idiot? As usual. Don't think about it. The man shook the muzzle of his gun.

Suddenly, there was a loud horn from the back of the car. The inside of the carriage suddenly became as bright as day.

The man turned his head suddenly, and with a shrill roar, a twenty-wheeled truck with a trailer suddenly passed over and rumbled into the darkness, making it feel like he was under the car.

"Bastard, don't let me run into you again." The man broke out in a cold sweat, stared at the back of the car and scolded fiercely, ready to reach for the seat belt. It seems that he didn't pull the seat belt from the moment he got into the car, which is his own consideration.

Although seat belts will protect passengers from crashing into the windows at full speed in the event of an impact. But when you need to escape from the car, it becomes a liability.

"Don't move." Wicker roared, and the sound seemed to be louder than the car honking just now.

"Do you really want to die?" The man was startled, and his hand instinctively left the shoulder strap. However, he quickly recovered, turned his head and laughed and re-aimed his gun at Wicker to pull the trigger.

"You idiot." Wicker sneered contemptuously, "You'd better put that broken gun away right away, if you don't want to die yet." ”

"What do you mean?" The man didn't know what to do, he had never seen a driver so calm at gunpoint, and even suspected that this was a plainclothes policeman, just like those reconnaissance bait, maybe this guy was a violent detective in the streets of Yarman City at all.

"Do you know what the speed is now?" Wicker asked.

"One hundred kilometers per hour." The man replied.

Wicker began to sneer incessantly: "The car is modified, the speedometer shows slower than it actually is, if you don't believe it, it's better to look out the window." ”

He kept his foot on the accelerator and slowly added force.

The man looked out the window, the darkness had given him no sense of speed, and now the line of reflective strips made him dizzy.

"So what?" The man asked, puzzled.

"So, if you shoot, you're going to die on this highway within ten seconds of me being hit."

"Shut up." The white man slammed the handle of the gun against the guard with force, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!." ”

Wicker shut up, and the carriage finally returned to its former tranquility, and the man finally breathed a sigh of relief, he really almost went off fire just now.

"You'd better throw your gun out and put your hands in front of you so you can live to see the sun tomorrow! Because I can hit the car against the concrete wall at any time. Wicker turned his head and said coldly.

"You're not going to do that." The man looked at the speedometer and made a slight estimate, "You're going to die too, seat belts are useless." At this rate, do you think you can escape? ”

"What car have you driven?" Wicker turned his head and smiled, "I forgot to tell you that I used to drive a race car. ”

"You're a race car driver?" The man asked curiously, his eyes full of suspicion.

"Glis's underground racing is a lot crazier than the Pro League." Wicker laughed, "I often compete in the middle of the night, and by the way, I do real collision experiments for large companies." ”

"What do you mean?" The man began to get a little nervous, "What nonsense?" ”

"Of course you don't know, hundreds of thousands of people are injured and killed in car accidents every year in the Mada Federation, and the human body is very fragile after all." "So this taxi is specially designed by a car company, and the speed is up to 160 kilometers per hour, and it will have absolute protection for the driver." ”

The man was silent, only the muzzle of the gun dropped slightly, and Wicker's words sounded a little true.

Wicker looked at the man's face in the rearview mirror, already a little discolored.

You put on a cold smile on your class, and then said, "On the proving ground, a V2 hybrid taxi like mine ......"

"Shut up!" The man said tremblingly, his voice trembling, and there was no longer the murderous aura of before.

"Death is not that fast." Wicker stared at the long stretch of road ahead, talking to himself.

The man was silent again, his hands shaking.

"By the way, my car doesn't have airbags." (To be continued.) )