Put Away Your Divine Techniques Now! Chapter 1370 - 409: [One Good Deed a Day] 2

Someone got shoved to the ground, but at a time like this no one dared yell or curse, they could only scramble after the others and run for the door.

Very soon, everyone in the room had rushed out.

Even Angie, who’d been thrown onto the floor, ended up trailing at the very back, limping out in a miserable mess. But by then, obviously the Pajama Guy couldn’t be bothered with her anymore.

Standing out on the lawn, everyone could see the second floor. Flames were licking at the window glass, and just from looking through the windows, you could tell the fire was no joke.

Then, a loud explosion sent the crowd panicking and stumbling backward. One of the second-floor windows blew out, shards of glass flying, and a ball of fire roared out.

The crowd gasped, but right then the Pajama Guy finally seemed to realize something, grabbed a bodyguard next to him by the collar, and snarled, "Fuck! My suitcase! My suitcase’s on the second floor!! My stuff!! Go get it back for me!"

The bodyguard whose collar he grabbed looked extremely awkward, stammering, "Boss, the fire’s already huge, this..."

He was getting paid plenty by the Pajama Guy, following him around as lackey, enforcer, bodyguard. Life had been pretty damn comfortable.

But... with the second floor burning like that, charging up there to fetch the boss’s things would just be pure suicide.

They were out here to make money, nothing more. Who wants to die for it.

Seeing the bodyguard’s troubled face while his feet might as well have been rooted to the ground, not budging an inch, the Pajama Guy stamped in fury and gave his subordinate a hard shove, but when he looked up at the blaze on the second floor, he also understood that ordering someone to rush into the fire right now just wasn’t realistic.

He cursed a few times under his breath, then finally shut up.

Up in the tree, Chen Yan had already quietly climbed down, then slipped along the wall and darted around to the back of the villa. Finally, he vaulted up onto the second floor of the villa...

·

Someone in the crowd called the cops, and in no time sirens were wailing from down the street, along with the blare of fire truck horns.

This was a rich neighborhood after all, the police response time was very fast—this was a capitalist society, after all.

In poor neighborhoods you can go a whole year without a single case and barely see any cops on patrol, but in rich neighborhoods, patrols are by the book, on schedule, every shift.

Right when the house caught fire, Uncle Wu, wearing his helmet, had already bolted from the villa the moment the blaze started, ran out to the roadside, then jumped on his motorcycle and shot off down the street!

He actually left without taking his own daughter!

But Chen Yan had already figured out this old bastard’s game.

Have to admit, what he did was pretty damn sly!

·

The police arrived quickly, herded everyone out of the villa’s yard, then moved them across the street.

Then the fire trucks rolled in. The firefighters quickly laid out hoses, and after asking about the situation inside and confirming there was no one else in the house, several firefighters charged in.

Half an hour later, the fire was out.

By then, everyone across the street had already been briefly questioned by the responding officers.

No one mentioned what the Pajama Guy had been trying to do with Angie in the hall— to them, it seemed like just a minor little episode in the middle of a wild party.

Angie herself didn’t say anything either— even though she clearly looked like the most wretched one of them all.

When the girl ran out, nobody had the time to care about her. One of her shoes had come off, and she was limping along with one bare foot.

Her top had been left back in the house as well; she was only wearing a camisole, and because she’d fallen on the floor, there was a big black smear rubbed across the fabric.

Luckily this was a rich neighborhood, so the cops’ attitude was actually pretty decent. One of them even brought over a blanket and draped it over the poor girl’s shoulders.

The Pajama Guy also got a blanket— when he’d run out, he’d only been wearing a pair of shorts, bare-chested.

·

By this time, Chen Yan was already standing at the back of the crowd watching.

He was far enough away, with plenty of people in front of him, so no one noticed him.

Even less did anyone notice that Chen Yan was holding a black leather suitcase in his hand.

Chen Yan saw Angie wrapped in a blanket, talking to a Black female officer. After they spoke for a bit, the policewoman led Angie into a squad car.

Chen Yan felt at ease, then turned and left.

Once he walked out of that street, Chen Yan got into his own car. After he sat down, he tossed the suitcase onto the back seat.

He started the engine and slowly drove away.

·

When he got back to the Chinese restaurant, Chen Yan parked by the curb. He didn’t go into the restaurant; instead, he went straight up the stairway next to it to the second floor.

Back in his rented room, he shut the door and sat down on the bed.

He opened the black leather suitcase—there was a combination lock on it, but Chen Yan easily twisted off the locking mechanism, ripped it open by brute force, and flipped the case open.

Looking at the fat stacks of neatly arranged US Dollar bills inside, piled like bricks, Chen Yan grinned and let out a whistle.

Eyeballing it, there had to be around two hundred grand.

That kind of small change didn’t really register for Chen Yan, but he was in America, and he didn’t have much cash on him— he was rich himself, but overseas he couldn’t spend his own money, afraid of leaving a trail.

These days, he’d been relying entirely on Acting on Heaven’s Will, hunting those damned drug dealers, robbing them in black-on-black jobs for a decent haul.

All his expenses were covered out of those takings.

Things were already getting a bit tight, so this money was really a timely windfall.