Inside the Highland Sentry Post, thirteen mbers of Fang Dawei’s group were scattered about, so sitting, so lying down. Besides a doctor who needed protection, only nine of them were still combat-ready. The remaining three had been seriously injured earlier and were lying there, barely conscious.
They had started with sixteen people. The ones who were missing had either been separated from the group or killed along the way.
Fang Dawei had a fair complexion. He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his hair was combed into a side part, and he wore a pair of glasses. Despite his strong build, he didn’t look like a hardened criminal, but more like a white-collar office worker.
However, a layer of a scale-like mbrane covered his exposed skin, including his face.
Tong Baitao, sitting not far away, was tall and powerfully built. A gray-black carapace, scarred with bullet grazes, was visible through his tattered clothes. The area around his shoulder blades was raised high, as if sothing was hidden there, but it was concealed beneath his clothing, its exact nature unseen.
In front of them was a small radio set. A shorter man was squatting beside it, listening to the signal through a pair of headphones while continuously writing down codes. Once he finished, he quickly took off the headphones, picked up a small booklet, and cross-referenced it to decode the ssage. Finally, he looked up and said, "Got it."
"What’s the word?" The others all looked at him with concern.
The short man said, "They told us to hold on for a little while longer. Molan Company’s security team is on its way and should be here in about forty minutes. When they arrive, our lives will be spared, at the very least. Molan Company won’t let us die."
"Molan Company... damn it!"
Hatred flashed in Tong Baitao’s eyes. Their current predicant was inextricably linked to Molan Company. But he also knew that, for now, Molan Company was the only one that could save their skins.
Fang Dawei, however, remained calm. "It’s not like we’re out of options," he said. "The resistance organization that supplied us with so much stuff didn’t do it out of the goodness of their hearts. They definitely want to stir up trouble in the city."
"Once chaos breaks out in the city, do you think these gray hounds will stick around here? That’s when we’ll have our chance. Relying on Molan Company is a last resort. We won’t take that path unless we absolutely have to."
"Brother Fang is right!"
Hearing this, the bandits’ spirits lifted. What he said made perfect sense. The city was what the Patrol Bureau was supposed to protect. If trouble broke out there, why would the gray hounds out here give a damn about them?
Just then, a scuttling sound ca from above. A man crawled into view on the wall, clinging to it like a spider. His limbs resembled the jointed legs of an arthropod.
Fang Dawei glanced up. Sunlight stread down from a massive hole in the ceiling, making him involuntarily squint. "Seventh Brother," he said, "I’ve told you before. Don’t crawl around over my head."
"Oh," Seventh Brother grunted, and he hurriedly scuttled down the wall like a spider. Crouching on the floor, he said, "Brother Fang, I’ve checked everything. There’s a hidden tunnel below us. Looks like sothing the villagers dug a long ti ago. Should I block it?"
Fang Dawei considered this for a mont. "No, leave it," he said. "Have one of the guys watch it. We might end up needing it."
He then turned to the doctor examining the wounded n. "Doctor Lin," he asked, "is there any hope for my n?"
Doctor Lin was a gaunt, middle-aged man in his forties with a head of white hair. Wearing a stethoscope, he was examining the bandits lying on the floor. He said, "The dicine the resistance organization gave you can keep them alive, but don’t expect miracles. Besides, even in a proper hospital, they wouldn’t recover from this anyti soon."
He paused, then added, "Really, as long as they don’t die now, it’ll be fine. Even the lost limbs aren’t a problem. Once you get to Molan Company, they’ll give you better replacents."
Hearing this, Fang Dawei’s face twitched involuntarily, as if he’d rembered sothing unpleasant.
Just then, his pupils suddenly dilated. Veins bulged on his face and forehead, and his eyes beca bloodshot. He began gasping for breath and clawing at himself, while the scaly mbrane on his body seed to harden.
Seeing this, Tong Baitao cried out in alarm, "Shit, the boss is having an attack! Quick, Doctor Lin, the Awakening Clearing Capsules!"
Doctor Lin deftly pulled out a pill case, popped out a single capsule, and tossed it over.
Tong Baitao snatched it out of the air, rushed to Fang Dawei’s side, and steadied him. "Here, boss," he said. Fang Dawei hastily grabbed the capsule, shoved it in his mouth, and forced it down. After a few monts, his breathing slowly cald, and the abnormal signs on his body gradually disappeared.
Doctor Lin glanced at Fang Dawei, then at the others. "One capsule lasts for three days," he said. "However, that’s assuming no strenuous activity. If you fight using your Implants, you might need a dose every half a day. This supply is only enough for three days."
Tong Baitao muttered a curse, "Damn it, we should’ve gotten our hands on the dicine before we hit the detonator."
One of the subordinates spoke up. "Brother Tong, we never had the kid. They would’ve seen through the bluff the mont we t. It was better to just take out more of those corporate security guys. The remaining gray hounds only know how to use guns, which makes them much less of a threat to us."
Tong Baitao glared at him. "That’s easy for you to say. So, how many did you actually take out in the end, huh?"
The subordinate looked sheepish. ’We were in a rush to get out, so I hit the button when it looked like the ti was right. Besides, those guys suddenly pulled back. It’s not my fault.’
Just then, Tong Qianjiang, who was in the Upper Layer of the Sentry Post, scrambled to his feet. He glanced down, then turned and shouted, "Brother Tong! Brother Fang! There’s movent down below!"
"What are those gray hounds up to now?"
The whole group instantly grew alert. They crept to the breaches and slits in the walls to look down. They saw that the Patrol Officers below had all raised their guns, aiming at the Sentry Post. Standing among them was a young man in what looked like a school uniform, holding a Long Blade. His clear, cold gaze was fixed on them.
"Brother Tong, he looks like a student from Wuda."
Tong Qianjiang said, "I’ve seen him before. That’s right, it was that night. I saw him when I went to make a deal with Tian Yaozu’s underlings. I sensed sothing was wrong, so I left early."
Tong Baitao stared in disbelief. "Am I seeing things? Just one person?" He turned to look at the others and bellowed, "Just one person? Huh? Did all the ones with any balls run away? They sent just one kid to deal with us?"
The bandits inside the Sentry Post roared with derisive laughter. It wasn’t that they underestimated a student from Wuda, but the guy was all alone and ard with only a single blade. No matter how skilled he was, what could he possibly do to them?
But in that instant, everything seed to blur. The young man vanished. Only Seventh Brother, with his spider-like perception, was able to track his movent. "He’s coming up!" he yelled. "He’s so fast!"
At the sa ti, intense gunfire erupted from below. A hail of bullets hamred against the Sentry Post, forcing the bandits to duck back from the openings.
They had tried exchanging fire with the Patrol Bureau earlier but found it was a losing battle. They couldn’t shoot accurately at that range, and the Patrol Bureau had so many officers that picking off a few was pointless. anwhile, their own ammunition was running low. So they’d decided to just hole up and rely on the Sentry Post’s defenses, staying put as long as no one tried to rush their position.
The Patrol Bureau knew they couldn’t breach the fortifications, which was why things had been quiet for a while. Their sudden burst of fire now was clearly ant to provide cover for the young man.
Fang Dawei had been sitting still since taking the dicine, seemingly in recovery. He took several deep breaths, the scaly mbrane on his skin seeming to expand and contract with them. He looked up. "Fourth Brother, go take care of it."
A burly heavy-set man drew a handgun, rose to his feet without a word, and walked outside.
He wore a full-face hood with only a narrow slit for his eyes. He stepped out of the Sentry Post onto a fairly wide platform, walked a few paces forward, and aid his gun down at the figure racing up the path.
Just then, bullets flew up from below, but whether they struck his torso or his limbs, they simply sparked and ricocheted away, having no effect. One bullet hit him square in the forehead, rely causing his head to jerk to the side. It tore a strip from his hood, revealing a dark black armor plate beneath.
Chen Chuan kept his eyes fixed forward. The path up to the Sentry Post was over a hundred ters long and featured three tight switchbacks.
This ant that no matter how fast an attacker was, they would have to slow down at the turns, exposing their flank to any gunn positioned at the Sentry Post above.
But as he reached a turn, his speed remained constant. In the instant he arrived, he stomped a foot down hard, gouging a crater in the ground, and WHOOSH—he shot laterally across to the next stretch of the path.
His speed was so incredible that the heavy-set man couldn’t get an accurate bead on him. He fired repeatedly, but every bullet landed behind Chen Chuan.
After Chen Chuan blew past two of the switchbacks, the heavy-set man drew a second handgun from his belt. He now held a pistol in each hand, aiming at the final turn. He angled the guns slightly apart to cover the area just before and just after the bend. This way, the mont Chen Chuan ca through, he would be unable to escape the barrage of bullets.
But just before reaching the third turn, Chen Chuan did sothing completely unexpected. Instead of following the path, he twisted his body, stomped hard on the ground, and launched himself into the air. He soared over the five- or six-ter-wide chasm, landing squarely on the final straight section of the path. When he looked up, the heavy-set man was right in front of him.
The heavy-set man reacted fast. The muzzles of his pistols, which had been angled outward, snapped inward as he opened fire. BANG! BANG! The mont he landed, Chen Chuan dropped into a low crouch and charged. He even weaved left and right as he ran, the bullets rely kicking up sprays of dirt behind him.
He was incredibly fast, covering the nearly ten-ter distance in the blink of an eye. His Long Blade flashed in an upward diagonal arc, and a severed arm flew into the air. He then took a step to the side, and as he brushed past the man, his blade followed its montum into a sweeping horizontal slash.
THUD. A deep footprint appeared in the ground as his body ca to an abrupt stop. He lifted his head. The entrance to the Sentry Post was five paces away.
With a flick of his wrist, he cleaned his blade and began to walk slowly toward the entrance.
Behind him, the heavy-set man remained standing for a mont before his severed torso slid off and tumbled to the ground, pulling the lower half down with it.
In that single exchange, the man’s implanted armor, his reinforced skeleton, and his Protective Clothing—all of it had been cleaved in two by that one blade.
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