Without realizing it, Bruce had wandered to a four-way intersection.
As he stood there waiting for the light, a family of three approached from the other side.
The man wore a black-and-white checkered long-sleeve shirt and a pair of loose dark-yellow pants. He had several days' worth of stubble on his face and looked a little worn down. The woman was dressed in a pink floral skirt and a tight red T-shirt embroidered with butterflies. A thick braid hung down her back. Her dark yellow-toned face carried the weathered look of someone who had spent a long time outdoors.
Holding her right hand was a little girl in a red vest and blue shorts.
In the girl's left arm was a small rubber ball printed with Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck. Judging by the bright color, it had probably just been bought.
Bruce gave the three of them a casual glance. They looked him over too.
None of them knew each other, so no one paid it much attention. They simply passed by.
Then, only a few steps after crossing him, the little girl stepped on something. Her body pitched forward. The woman caught her quickly and steadied her, but the ball slipped from the girl's arm, hit the ground, bounced twice, and rolled toward the street.
The second she saw her new treasure getting away, the girl instinctively shook free of her mother's hand and ran after it.
At the same time, Bruce caught sight of a flash of red rolling diagonally into the road ahead and to his right. Human eyes reacted fast to red. He turned toward it on pure instinct.
The moment he did, his face tightened.
A Ford Mustang was flying in from the far side of the intersection.
Under the streetlights, Bruce could see through the windshield just well enough to make out the couple inside, tangled up with each other. They were either reckless or insane. They were going through an intersection like that, with the woman practically blocking the driver's forward view.
This is bad.
His heart dropped.
The little girl was still chasing the ball, completely unaware of the car bearing down on her.
Bruce moved before he had time to think.
The girl's parents saw the danger too. The father lunged forward in a panic, and the mother let out a sharp, hysterical scream and rushed after him without a second thought.
But they were too far back.
Bruce was younger, faster, and explosive in a way neither of them could match. Years of basketball had trained that first step into his body.
The woman's scream finally seemed to cut through the chaos inside the car. The couple looked up, saw what was happening, and went white. The driver reacted fast, slamming on the brakes while wrenching the wheel hard to the left.
The nearly two-ton Mustang missed Bruce by inches as he threw himself at the girl, wrapped her up in his arms, and rolled hard across the pavement to the right.
If he had been even a little slower, he would have ended up in the hospital again.
If it had gone any worse than that, maybe he would not have walked away at all.
Bang.
The Mustang swerved left and smashed into a palm tree on the side of the road before finally stopping.
Bruce, having thrown every ounce of strength into the save, rolled across the ground again and again before finally grinding to a stop.
"Aurora!"
The father sprinted over and snatched the girl from Bruce's arms, clutching her to his chest. The mother came right behind him, crying as she grabbed them both.
Bruce looked at the family of three locked together and felt a brief flash of envy.
That kind of parental love was something he had once wanted more than anything.
In both lives, he had never truly had it.
Then pain hit.
He sucked in a breath.
His right elbow lit up first, sharp and raw enough to drown out everything else. It was summer, and he had gone out wearing only a white short-sleeve T-shirt. During that save, his right elbow had slammed into rough concrete over and over. If it had not torn open, that would have been the real miracle.
His left elbow was bleeding too, though it hurt less.
Even so, Bruce was still glad he had done it. A child was alive because he moved when it counted.
Still, now that the moment had passed, the close call started replaying in his head, and a chill ran down his back. Even he had not realized he still had that kind of nerve.
"Thank you. Thank you so much!"
Once they realized their daughter was unharmed, both parents turned to him, gratitude written all over their faces.
"It's fine," Bruce said. "Is she okay?"
"She's okay. She's okay. Thank you, really, thank you so much," the woman said, close to tears.
The little girl's face was pale, and her brown eyes were still wide with fear, but she gathered herself and spoke politely anyway.
"Thank you, mister."
Bruce nodded and said gently, "Next time, don't run into the street like that, okay? It's dangerous."
Aurora nodded at once. "I'll remember."
Bruce reached out and gave her soft, naturally curly hair a reassuring pat.
Then the father turned, fury rising all over again, and stormed toward the young couple climbing out of the wrecked Mustang, both of them still badly shaken.
"What the hell is wrong with you? How do you drive like that?"
The man, dressed in a suit and still trying to hold himself together, put up his hands immediately.
"I'm sorry. We didn't mean for this to happen."
"Damn right you didn't," the father snapped, grabbing him by the collar. "If anything had happened to my daughter, I would have killed you."
The woman with the driver was dressed fashionably in a tight purple dress. It was rumpled now, but it still showed off her figure perfectly.
She stepped forward in a rush and said, "It was our fault. We'll pay."
The father clearly wanted to vent more than just a threat, but the second he saw the thick stack of cash she pulled from her purse, easily more than ten thousand dollars, his expression shifted.
His daughter was safe.
The money was real.
In the end, he snatched it from her hand and growled, "Then next time, pay attention when you're behind the wheel."
Bruce ignored the rest of it.
By then, he was ready to leave. He was bleeding, and even if the injuries were nothing serious, pain was pain.
He had just started looking for a cab to get himself to a hospital when the father came hurrying back after passing the cash to his wife.
"Sir, please wait."
Bruce turned. "Is there something else?"
The man stepped closer, his expression earnest. "Thank you again for saving my daughter. Truly. We live right by the beach, only a few minutes from here. I'd like to invite you to our home so we can properly thank you."
Bruce shook his head. "No need. Anyone decent would've stepped in. And as you can see, what I really need right now is a hospital."
He lifted an arm slightly to indicate his bleeding elbows.
"That's exactly why you should come with us," the man said quickly. "My mother is a doctor. She can clean and dress the wounds for you."
That made Bruce hesitate.
The man pointed off to the right. "Do you see those lights over there? That's us."
Bruce followed the direction of his hand.
Sure enough, about two or three hundred meters away, he could see a cluster of lights. He had noticed them earlier when he walked past. There were six or seven caravans parked there.
At that point, he had already guessed who these people were.
Still, he did not say it aloud.
After a brief pause, he nodded.
For scrapes like this, getting them cleaned right away would at least cut down the pain. He did not need anything complicated, just a proper rinse, some medicine, and bandaging. Any household with a decent first-aid kit could manage that.
So when the man invited him again, Bruce did not refuse.
"That's wonderful," the man said with visible relief. "Please, come with us."
Under the family's guidance, Bruce followed them back to their camp.
On the beach, about seven caravans had been arranged in a rough oval. A fire burned in the middle, with food roasting over it. More than thirty people sat or stood around the flames, laughing and talking loudly.
"Fidel, Aika, you're back. ... Who's this?"
A curly-haired man in a white striped shirt noticed them returning and stepped away from the crowd to meet them.
"Rainer, I'll explain in a minute," the father said. "Where's Anna?"
"With Grandma Gemma."
Fidel nodded, then turned to the woman. "Aika, take Mr. Guo to our caravan. I'll go get Anna."
"Okay."
The girl's mother nodded.
On the way over, they had already exchanged names, so she turned to Bruce and said politely, "Mr. Guo, please come with me."
Bruce nodded and followed her toward a red-and-blue caravan on the left.
Rainer glanced at the blood on Bruce's arms and the dirt on his clothes, then stepped closer, frowning.
"Aika, what happened?"
She tightened her grip on her daughter's hand and said, "On the way back, this kind gentleman saved Aurora. If not for him... we might have lost our only daughter tonight."
The memory of what had almost happened hit her all over again. Her face went pale, and her hand closed so tightly around Aurora's that the little girl winced.
"Mom, that hurts."
Aika snapped out of it at once. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."
While she comforted her daughter, Rainer looked at Bruce, then stepped back half a pace and spoke with real sincerity.
"Thank you for saving Aurora. You are a benefactor to our Lucero family."
"You don't need to thank me," Bruce said with a small smile and a nod.
Aika led him inside the caravan.
The living area was not large. With the tables, chairs, and benches packed into it, the place felt a little cramped, but it was neat and well kept.
After asking him to sit down, Aika went into the back room and returned with a black wooden box.
"I'll clean the wounds first."
Bruce had just started to say, "I can do it myself," when a burst of hurried footsteps sounded outside.
A moment later, an elderly woman strode in.
She wore a pink T-shirt, with a floral shawl draped diagonally from shoulder to waist. Something about her style felt faintly South Asian. She moved quickly despite her age, and the instant she entered, the air in the caravan changed.
Read up to 50 chapters ahead right now on Patreon! 🔥
patreon.com/YATOOOO