The SUV didn't slow down.
Chenghai kept it steady as they pushed deeper into the city, one hand tight on the wheel while the other flexed once before settling back into place. His ribs pulled with every small adjustment, the lingering injury reminding him of its presence in sharp, controlled bursts.
He ignored it.
Pain didn't change the route. It didn't change the objective.
Jian Yuche leaned back in the passenger seat, his shoulder throbbing in a dull, steady rhythm now that the immediate pressure had passed. His gaze stayed forward, not scanning everything anymore—just the parts that mattered.
Intersections. Choke points. Places that would trap them if they chose wrong.
"We're not stopping at the next one," he murmured.
Lingyun shifted slightly in the back seat, his attention snapping from the passing buildings to Yuche's reflection in the glass. "You already see something?"
