The instant the gunshots rang out, Sherry let out a shriek and dove into Dylan's arms. However, Dylan kept his gaze locked on the yellow-toothed taxi driver. He didn't want to die and regretted not bringing Dennis along.
But after the gunfire, Dylan felt no pain. Instead, he saw blood spurting from the taxi driver's wrist. The driver screamed, and the black handgun he had been holding clattered to the ground.
All of this happened in a flash, leaving Dylan no time to react further. Before he could fully grasp what had happened, a familiar voice called out, "Mr. Philemon, are you okay?"
"I'm fine. It's ok. How did you get here? When did you arrive?" Dylan, still shaken, instinctively asked, trying to calm his nerves.
Outside the taxi driver's window, Dennis, with his gun still aimed at t
