Late at night, in the corner of the city that was filled with rubbish...
Humaira Swanson emerged, dressed in rags with dust coated all over her face. Her skeleton like frame was camouflaged among the bags of garbage.
"Bang!"
She kicked open a bag of rotten food. Digging through the scraps in the middle of the night, she found a heavy piece of metal in the middle of the night.
Her eyes narrowed as she inspected the piece of metal in her hand. It looked like car parts from a Volkswagen.
Rubbing her sleeve over it, she thought to herself, "Not bad, I can sell it for a good price."
Putting the scrap metal into the makeshift cart caused the sound of nuts and bolts squeaking to ring out in the night. In the dark, her calm and collected demeanor had a dash of coldness to it. Her gaze darkened further.
She had been living her life like this for almost half a month. Until this day, she still had no memory of her life before.
Yes, that's right, she had lost her memory. Apart from knowing that her name is Humaira Swanson, the rest of her memory was a blank slate.
Even the police couldn't find out more about her. As an undocumented person, she couldn't find a proper job. All she could do was rely on scavenging scrap metals for a living.
But fortunately—
She took out a small purse from her pocket slowly, then opened it gently. There was a stack of dollar notes inside.
She had nearly reached her target of renting a small house. First, she'd get a place to live, then find a proper job.
Maybe in the future, she'd be able to operate her own waste disposal center? Well, that's not too bad.
At this time, she heard something rustling in the distance.
Raising her eyebrows, she headed towards the source of the sound.
One step, two steps, she walked pass a garbage can to finally see where the sound had come from.
There was a man sitting on the ground. His dark hair was streaked with blood, his face was too pale as he leaned his arms weakly on his knees.
As if he could sense her staring, his eyes opened at that exact moment.
As his dark pupils met hers, Humaira couldn't help but tremble.
What kind of gaze was this? She could feel his arrogance, that coupled with his cold demeanor.
"You..." she murmured. Before she could say anything else, the man took out a black card from his pocket and handed it to her.
"There's no password. Don't ever mention that you've met me."
Taking the card from him, she paused in surprise for a couple of seconds.
"You're injured." His blood had already trickled down his body all the way to his feet.
Putting the black card into her small purse, she couldn't help thinking how people said that nothing comes free of charge. She didn't want to owe this man a favor.
"I'll save you, then I'll accept the card as a reward." Humaira said to the man.
Dragging her cart closer, she pulled out a tattered rucksack and reached inside. After a minute of digging around, she found a bottle of antiseptic that had long expired. Then, proceeded to bring out a few pieces of rags.
Corey Keith's gaze turned even colder. The air around him grew more chilly.
"Don't touch me." He pushed her outstretched arm with deliberate force. That, coupled with his injuries, made him breath heavily.
Humaira fell onto the ground. The pebbles and gravel from the road scraped her palms.
The pain made her uncomfortable, and her tone grew impatient. "If you don't want to die, you'd better listen to me."
This time, she didn't give him any chance to resist. She quickly poured the solution onto the 5cm wide cut he had on his shoulder.
At the same time, a memory of an acupuncture point flashed in her mind.
After a second of hesitation, she quickly hit that point twice on his body.
In an instant, blood stopped flowing out from his wound.
Corey's expression changed slightly as his gaze landed on her face. It was abnormally sharp.
Humaira could feel him staring at her, but.. she too had no idea how she knew about acupuncture points.
Before she had time to wonder more about it, a gust of cold wind blew past them. Almost at the same moment, both of them looked to the right.
Someone was coming...
Humaira was instantly alerted. Judging from the steady pace of his footsteps, he was a martial artist.
Corey's eyes were filled with gloom. "You may leave now." There was no need for him to get someone innocent involved.
Right then, there was a clanging sound behind him.
He looked back and saw that the little beggar who helped him earlier was going through the stuff in her cart.
Soon enough, she pulled out a toy gun and broken mosquito swatter.
Followed by several bullets, as well as a green and red wire.
With half her face still hidden inside the sack, she continued to scavenge through it. "If you don't want to be beaten, hide behind me."
Corey frowned. This was the first time someone had spoken to him like this.
This weak, measly person wanted to protect him?
A few seconds later, she had everything she wanted in place
Corey looked down at her. Her little, dusty hands were indeed very nimble. She had quickly and skillfully modified the toy gun and fixed the mosquito swatter with the wires.
However, could this hurt anyone?
"Ha, you really..."
Crack! The sound of a bullet being loaded into the barrel interrupted his words.
Immediately after, Humaira picked up the gun shot at the wall. In a split second, black smoke filled the air and a thumb size dent formed in the wall.
"If it hit a person, it would definitely pierce through his flesh... plus, it has the ability to silence shots?"
Corey's expression grew weary as he tried to figure out what was going on?
Where was this little beggar from?
