In a daze, Wandering Spirit remembered scene after scene, like shots from a movie.
It had been a rainy night.
He was driving a sports car, a little too fast.
All of a sudden, a cat darted out.
He was so startled he slammed on the brakes.
In fact, that was very dangerous; on rainy or snowy days it's easy to skid.
He really liked cats. He had nine at home, and they were all his little bosses.
There was no way he could hit it, so he chose to brake hard.
As soon as the car stopped, a crowd of people swarmed up and surrounded his sports car.
He saw himself in the scene, shouting angrily, "What are you doing!"
"Hand over the money!"
The man in the lead looked like the village chief, a bit old, leaning on a cane.
"Money? You're waylaying people to rob them? Do you know what era this is? Aren't you afraid of getting arrested and sentenced?"
"Chief, don't waste words on him. Same as before—go up there and strip him naked, and take every valuable thing off him."
