The urgent ringtone of a cellphone rang out from the bearded man's pants pocket, interrupting Russell's self-destructive thoughts. He couldn't be bothered to answer it, and only when the first ring ended and started up again did he walk over and take out the phone.

It was an old-fashioned slide phone, very retro. The caller ID had no name, just a strange number.

Russell answered the call, and a slightly suppressed, hoarse voice came from the other end: "I saw everything. Your performance was unexpected. To be honest, you really surprised me."

Russell frowned, glanced at the black cross on the floor, and silently moved into the corner: "Who are you?"

If his guess was right, the person on the other end was the Cross, but Russell had no memory related to this person, so he simply pretended not to know him.

"You're very calm, that's good. But I have to remind you, two blocks away, three police cars are heading toward your location. If you don't have a good lawyer, you'd better leave quickly."

Hearing this, Russell finally realized he wasn't safe. Just as he was about to leave, the Cross's voice sounded again on the phone.

"I left a gray pickup in the surface parking lot, license plate 404·OOXX. The door's unlocked, the key's inside. You should know how to handle it. Get out of there, I'll come find you..."

The call was cut off. Russell stuffed the phone into his pocket with a conflicted look. The third mission world was likely related to the Cross. Although he hated assassins, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and accept it.

Coming down from the top floor of a building with over sixty stories, walking on two legs was out of the question. Even though Russell had long-distance running skills, he didn't want to try something so masochistic. The police cars would arrive soon, so he chose to take the elevator. This would likely get his face caught on camera, but Russell had no other option. Besides, he was sure that before he reached the top floor, his face had already appeared on surveillance; otherwise, how could anyone explain a living person suddenly appearing on the rooftop?

In the elevator, Russell was covered in dust from the fight, and with the construction worker's jacket, he inevitably drew looks of disdain from others. Especially from a few blonde, blue-eyed female office workers—their looks seemed to carry a hint of racial discrimination.

As a descendant of Yan and Huang, proud of his country and people, Russell couldn't stand their looks. He glared back fiercely and threatened, "What are you looking at? Look again and I'll bust your fake boobs! Axi ba!"

The female office workers immediately turned pale. Maybe it was because he'd just killed someone, but Russell still had a murderous aura about him. One glare was enough to be terrifying.

Stepping out of the elevator, Russell headed straight for the outdoor parking lot. As he passed the entrance, the city police finally arrived, but Russell acted nonchalant and avoided them without any eye contact.

Following the odd license plate, Russell found the gray pickup—a Ford F-150, the famous Raptor. This truck is extremely popular in the US, very common, almost a national symbol.

In China, the Ford Raptor is considered a luxury car due to import costs and its insane fuel consumption. But in the US, it's just a farm tractor, on par with the Wuling Hongguang in China. You can get one for $25,000–$50,000, or even cheaper if you haggle.

Just as the Cross said, the door was unlocked and the key was in the ignition. Russell buckled his seatbelt, started the engine, released the handbrake, and drove out of the parking lot.

【Host is driving a Ford F-150. Lottery event triggered. Draw now?】

【Host has accumulated three lottery draws. Draw now?】

Russell ignored the system and drove on. American cars, like Chinese cars, have left-hand drive, and the roads are right-hand traffic, so he didn't feel out of place. Thanks to his English proficiency skill, Russell drove smoothly through this unfamiliar city. But as he drove, he suddenly realized a problem.

"So, where am I supposed to go next?"

From the bearded man's conversation, Russell deduced that he had an identity in this world, but the problem was he had no corresponding memories. He didn't even have a driver's license in his pocket and had no idea where to go.

Not having a driver's license in the US is even more serious than not carrying an ID in China. If the police stop you and you can't produce a license, even a slight sign of noncompliance could get you shot on the spot.

To be safe, Russell parked at the mouth of an alley, locked the doors, and started searching the car. In the back seat were five clean jackets, baseball caps, and athletic pants—clearly prepared by the Cross.

After changing clothes, Russell tidied up his dusty face in the rearview mirror. Looking refreshed, he silently opened the system interface and began his triple lottery draw.

The much-anticipated lottery event—he needed some skills and character cards to arm himself, so he couldn't help but feel a bit excited. According to the system's previous prompts, two draws were related to his contact with the slicked-back guy, and one was for the Ford F-150.

After the triple draw, Russell's equipment list was updated with three new cards.

【Item Card: M9 (Who needs a Desert Eagle or unlimited ammo? This is enough)】

【Skill Card: Bullet Time (From a scientific perspective, anything that objectively exists can be explained)】

【Character Card: BABY (Getaway Driver)】