A car drove by, kicking up a cloud of yellow dust over ten meters high.


    "Oh, damn it. Go to hell!" A 15 to 16-year-old student turned around, flipping two middle fingers at the passing car, elicitingughter from hispanions.


    One of the seven or eight-year-old girls also turned around. She skipped back, giggling and cursing at the retreating car along with her brother, "Go to hell, go to hell!"


    As she walked, she suddenly found herself in the middle of the road. Amidst the sandstorm, a truck red its horn frantically, its hazard lights shing continuously.


    The truck was carrying five coils of steel, and the driver dared not hit the brakes too hard.


    By the time the little girl realized, the truck was already upon her.


    The group of students screamed in terror, and the truck driver''s face turned pale as he closed his eyes in despair.


    Just as the truck was about to hit the little girl, a well-defined hand pressed against the massive front of the truck. The back of the truck lifted, but the coils of steel remained motionless. The truck driver did not even feel the inertia. It was as if his truck had been frozen in ce in an instant.


    "Holy sh-Superman?"


    "An immortal!"


    "It''s Ultraman!"


    The students shouted excitedly as they looked at Nash. He was standing in the middle of the sandstorm, but the sandstorm did not touch him at all. It was as if an invisible dome-shaped protective shield was surrounding him.


    "That''s definitely a superhero!"


    Nash did not linger but continued walking forward.


    "Mister, thank you!" the eight-year-old girl shouted with her hands cupped around her mouth.


    The truck driver got down from the truck, his legs still trembling. He followed the children''s gaze but did not see anyone.


    Holy crap! Did he really encounter an immortal?Exclusive content from N?velDrama.Org.


    The truck driver looked at the girl with a mix of fear and amusement. "Kids, don''t walk in the middle of the road next time, okay? It''s very dangerous."


    The little girl nodded with a pout. "Okay, Mister."


    The truck driver sighed, took out ten


    dors from his pocket, and handed


    it to the little girl. "I must''ve given you a scare just now. Take this money and buy some candy!" After giving them a few words of advice, he got back into the truck and slowly drove away.


    It was an extremely dangerous situation just now. If he had hit the brakes, he would have been in danger; if he did not, the little girl, would have been in danger. He vowed to himself that he would never transport steel coils again, no matter how difficult things got.


    ...


    Nash arrived at the Empire Hotel. Pushing open the ss doors, he entered the building.


    A middle-aged man in a suit and leather shoes immediately approached him. He asked respectfully, "Excuse me, are you Mr. Calcraft?"


    "Yes, I''m Nash Calcraft," Nash replied with a polite smile.


    "Mr. Calcraft, would you like to dine first or go to your room to freshen up?" The manager looked Nash up and down, noticing that there was not a speck of dust on him. "I''ll dine first." Nash thought it would be convenient to eat first before returning to his room to shower and sleep. It would save him the trouble of going back and forth.


    "Of course. Please follow me, Mr. Calcraft!" the manager said then led Nash to a restaurant.


    The lighting in the restaurant was soft, and the music was gentle. Several foreigners were dining and chatting foudly at one table while there were also several tables, with diners who looked to be locals.


    Nash chose a seat by the window, and a waiter immediately approached. The manager personally handed the menu to Nash. "Mr. Calcraft, feel free to order whatever you want."


    Nash flipped through the menu and then ordered several dishes-roast beef, smoked salmon, seared foie gras, French onion soup, and a bottle of ''82 Lafite.


    The manager took the menu back from Nash with a smile. "Mr. Calcraft, I''ll wait for you in the lobby."


    Nash nodded, then took out his phone and started browsing the news from the Northwest.


    Suddenly, there was a ruckus.


    "Damn it, are you blind?"


    A waiter had identally knocked over a ss while cleaning up, spilling juice on a customer. The waiter quickly apologized, "I''m sorry, I didn''t mean to..." This voice... It sounded familiar!


    Nash turned to look. Upon seeing the waiter''s face, he was stunned.