Under the intense glare of the spotlights, the stone statue of the Golden Feather Finch was rapidly cloaked in a ghastly, blood-red coat. The crimson liquid cascaded down the high platform, gradually pooling and creeping toward their feet.

As the massive volume of fluid continued to erupt, a heavy, suffocating stench of blood began to saturate the air.

Song Jin took two steps back in sheer disgust. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the mustached Alpha raising his crossbow, aiming squarely at the floating projection drone, and pulling the trigger.

With a sharp crack followed by the violent sizzle of an electrical current, the floating projection device blew apart. The mustached Alpha yanked the connected grappling line with a powerful swing, sending the shattered drone slamming heavily against the metal wall, scattering into pieces.

The virtual screen vanished completely. The immense chamber plunged into an eerie, oppressive silence, punctuated only by the heavy, ragged breathing of the ten survivors.

Li Xiao surveyed the perimeter, scanning in all directions. Aside from the pathway they had used to enter, he couldn’t find any other exits. However, judging by the layout scans he had reviewed earlier, there should have been at least eight corridors branching off from this chamber.

The ground vibrated slightly. The four members of Li Xiao’s group went entirely rigid, wordlessly closing ranks into a tight defensive formation.

High above, the thirty-meter-tall ceiling split open right down the center, allowing the brilliant lights of the Rubik’s cube to spill down into the abyss.

The ceiling of this chamber was actually the floorboards of the first-floor lobby.

The vertical space was completely open now. Li Xiao and the other three felt as though they were trapped at the very bottom of a massive well. Looking up, they could see the starship hovering directly over the summit of the Rubik’s cube, where a giant floating screen was still aggressively broadcasting the miraculous, life-prolonging properties of the Shaman blood.

Surveillance drones from various levels suddenly drifted over, encircling the perimeter of the “well” while dropping hundreds of virtual screens simultaneously. The AI anchor reappeared.

[ Please, everyone, enjoy your clearance reward to your heart's content! ]

With that, she erupted into a wild, unhinged laugh. The AI-synthesized face flickered rapidly between male and female characteristics, her expression growing increasingly twisted and monstrous. The laughter blasted from all sides in a disorienting, wrapping surround-sound—an absolute nightmare for anyone with sensitive hearing.

Enduring a sharp, stabbing ache in his temples, Li Xiao signaled Song Jin and the two guards to quietly move toward the exit. Kylin’s provocation was far too blatant; they undoubtedly had a follow-up trap prepared. If they didn’t leave immediately, they would end up as nothing more than cannon fodder in someone else’s war zone.

“Tonight, not a single one of you is walking away!” the mustached Alpha roared, glaring up at the screens high above, his back teeth grinding together in unbridled fury.

He was speaking the Danse language.

The realization flashed through both Li Xiao and Song Jin’s minds simultaneously.

Noticing from the corner of his eye that one of the secret guards had covertly collected a sample of the blood from the floor in a small vial, Song Jin kept pace with Li Xiao as they stealthily retreated back toward the corridor they came from.

The light had been too dim when they first entered, and Li Xiao’s attention had been entirely anchored to the central platform. Only now did he realize that the walls of this chamber were entirely cast from discarded metallic machinery and scrapped parts. The surfaces were violently uneven, riddled with sharp corners and jagged, protruding edges.

A series of faint, rapid mechanical clicks echoed nearby.

Li Xiao’s footsteps halted instantly. He signaled Song Jin and the guards to freeze, raising his eyes to scan the metallic walls. Dense clusters of launch ports had extended from all directions, exposing the gleaming, razor-sharp tips of heavy steel bolts.

With a density like that, the mechanism was designed to turn anyone inside into a slurry of minced meat.

Li Xiao reached back, his palm resting flat against the hilt of his military blade as his eyes darted around to locate the sensor array. Since the traps here were entirely mechanical in operation, destroying the primary sensing components would force the system to lock up.

There were twenty distinct sensor nodes in total, and it was impossible to tell which one triggered the firing sequence.

Before the thought could fully form, the ten individuals on the other side launched into action simultaneously, firing their crossbows at various sensor nodes. The grappling tips pierced several arrays, yet the relentless click-click-click of the mechanical gears continued unabated.

Not those!

Li Xiao’s expression darkened as he tilted his head, listening intently to the machinery.

Song Jin tracked the alignment of the launch ports, rapidly calculating the mathematical probability of a clean escape in his head. The exit was ten meters away; in all likelihood, they would only have enough time to shield their vital organs.

The two secret guards held their military blades tight, firmly anchoring Song Jin between them.

Amidst the piercing synthetic laughter of the AI, a volley of steel bolts launched. Li Xiao suddenly caught a distinct, high-pitched mechanical friction sound. In a flash of movement, he drew his military blade and hurled it.

The blade cut through the air with a violent whistle, embedding itself with pinpoint accuracy directly into a concealed master sensor node.

The incoming volley of steel bolts jammed instantly, clattering harmlessly to the ground in a metallic din. Simultaneously, the relentless grinding of the mechanical gears died out completely.

On the other side of the chamber, the mustached Alpha seemed to notice the sudden cessation. He glanced over in stark astonishment, but his attention was quickly pulled back to the starship hovering above.

Li Xiao took two tentative steps forward. Confirming that the automated traps had been completely disabled, he signaled Song Jin and the others to move: “Move! Fast!”

Just as they were less than two meters away from the exit, a massive, reinforced steel shutter slammed down, sealing the corridor completely.

Song Jin let out a low curse. Never in his life had he been toyed with like trapped game.

“It’s useless, don’t waste your energy,” the mustached Alpha called out, his back still turned to them. “They never had any intention of letting us leave alive. They aren’t going to let you just walk out of the corridors smoothly.”

Li Xiao subtly probed for information: “You knew this from the very beginning? Then why did you choose to enter anyway?”

The mustached Alpha, however, offered no further response.

Suddenly, the urgent voice of a subordinate crackled through Song Jin’s hidden earpiece.

「 report! Raven forces detected breaking through the perimeter! They have split into two columns—one heading toward the northern sector of Sector B, the other pushing through the western front. Estimated time until the Rubik’s cube falls within their active combat envelope is ten minutes! 」

Raven?

Song Jin knit his brows, deeply lost in thought. They had encountered Raven back on N2781 as well. Why did it seem like no matter where they went, they crossed paths with this faction?

While Li Xiao was busy examining the walls for an alternative escape route, he caught a glimpse of Song Jin drawing a palm-sized metal cylinder from his lower back. He couldn’t help but look closer: “What on earth is that?”

“A slingshot.” With a slick flick of Song Jin’s wrist, the metal cylinder unfolded into a tactical slingshot.

He fished a metallic sphere about half the size of a ping-pong ball from his pocket, notched it into the leather pouch, and drew the band taut against his jaw, aiming straight up into the open ceiling. His voice turned incredibly low and lethal: “We’ve given these bastards more than enough face by playing along with their little game for this long. It’s a shame these dogs don’t know how to appreciate hospitality when it’s offered.”

Song Jin released his grip. The metallic sphere shot upward at an incredible velocity. High in the air, its chassis rapidly expanded into a tower-shaped microwave emitter, unleashing a devastating, high-density electromagnetic pulse in an instant.

Every single virtual screen flickered violently before dying out completely.

Li Xiao glanced down at his wrist comms—the signal bar was completely dead.

A micro-EMP grenade?

Without their surveillance network, Kylin was completely blind to the situation occurring at the bottom of the well.

Song Jin spun around and immediately began scaling the uneven metal wall: “Raven is on the way. We have less than ten minutes.”

Raven is actually arriving here?

As Li Xiao climbed up behind him, he recalled the encrypted message Jiang Chi had transmitted to him the previous evening. Did they catch wind of the gold-hunting competition tonight and arrive to plunder the spoils, or was there an entirely different objective at play?

On the other side, the ten Alphas noticed the sudden blackout. After a brief, whispered consultation, they rushed to the base of the wall, deploying their grappling lines to make their escape.

They had climbed roughly a dozen meters when three pitch-black objects plummeted from the high sky, erupting into a roaring sheet of flame with a thunderous boom.

“Watch out! Incendiary munitions!” a secret guard bellowed toward Song Jin.

The remnants of the central stone statues were blown to absolute dust. Song Jin gritted his teeth, shielding his head as he dug his fingers into the protruding metal framework to stabilize his body against the powerful shockwave, preventing himself from being blasted off the wall. The flying shrapnel and stone fragments left a scattering of shallow cuts across his exposed skin.

In the blink of an eye, the floor below was transformed into a raging inferno. Under the blistering heat, Li Xiao’s hair was soaked with sweat, which mixed with a trickle of blood and slid down the side of his face.

“Hurry!”

The metal wall was superheating at an alarming rate; even through tactical gloves, the surface felt scalding to the touch.

The guard equipped with a reinforced grappling line was the first to vault over the upper lip of the well. Turning back instantly, he hurled the line down toward Song Jin.

Suddenly, three more incendiary rounds dropped from above.

A deafening explosion rocked the structure. The flames leaped meters higher, and the combination of the extreme thermal bloom and the concussive pressure wave caused Li Xiao’s grip to slip. He rapidly drew his backup combat knife, jamming it hard into a recessed metal ring to anchor himself.

The lowered grappling line was blown off course by the blast, snagging on a piece of twisted metal out of reach.

The guard reeled the line back in, preparing to cast it down once more, when he suddenly registered movement behind him. Ducking by pure instinct, a high-velocity round whizzed past his temple.

A squad of black-clad operatives armed with assault rifles began closing in on their position. Judging by their standardized combat gear and modified firearms, they were indisputably Kylin’s core security detail.

The temperature of the metal wall was climbing to suffocating levels. Waiting for the thermal wave to subside slightly, Li Xiao resumed his ascent.

Suddenly, a thick grappling rope dropped right in front of his face. He snapped his head up, locking eyes with the mustached Alpha standing firmly at the top.

The mustached Alpha muttered, “I don’t like owing favors.”

Before Li Xiao could respond, he caught a glimpse of the black-clad security forces advancing on their position from above. He barked a low warning: “To your right!”

The mustached Alpha pivoted his torso instantly, but a round still tore clean through his left shoulder, missing his heart by a mere fraction of an inch.

Securing his grip on the line, Li Xiao used his legs to drive off the vertical wall, swinging his body rapidly across the expanse toward Song Jin’s position.

“Grab on!”

Song Jin wasted zero words, seizing Li Xiao’s forearm tightly to anchor himself to the line. Once Song Jin had a secure hold, Li Xiao kicked the trailing end of the rope toward the remaining secret guard below.

The first-floor lobby was a chaotic symphony of non-stop gunfire.

The moment Li Xiao vaulted over the edge, he spotted three armed Kylin operatives charging their position. Rolling low across the floor, he swept the legs out from under the first operative, snatched the falling rifle mid-air, and squeezed the trigger, neutralizing the remaining two in a single fluid burst. He then slammed the butt of the rifle hard into the neck of the first operative who was attempting to push himself back up.

Three targets neutralized in a fraction of a second.

Song Jin seized the opening to slip behind a structural metal column, locking his palm around a guard’s chin and executing a clean, lethal twist before catching the rifle as it slipped from the man’s lifeless fingers.

Further away, several Kylin operatives caught sight of the breach and rushed forward with weapons firing, only to be instantly eliminated by the two secret guards who materialized from the shadows.

The group of four fought a disciplined rearguard action, retreating steadily until they reached the nearest structural exit. However, the exit was sealed by a massive, industrial-grade blast door. It was glaringly obvious that a standard military blade wouldn’t make a dent in it.

Song Jin fished another metallic sphere—roughly the size of a golf ball—from his opposite pants pocket and slapped it flat onto the center of the blast door.

Li Xiao caught the movement out of the corner of his eye: “What is it this time?”

“Micro-shaped charge.” Song Jin depressed the activation primer, gesturing for everyone to take cover behind a massive structural pillar a few meters away.

Li Xiao: “…” Exactly how many bizarre military prototypes does this guy keep stuffed in his pockets?

A deafening explosion tore through the corridor. The blast door was blown open, leaving a jagged breach—but to their frustration, a secondary reinforced security shutter lay directly behind it.

Song Jin spat a low curse: “This structural defense specification is completely absurd.”

Left with no alternative, they deployed the second micro-shaped charge carried by one of the secret guards. The combined blast barely managed to tear open a thirty-centimeter gap—far too narrow for an adult man to squeeze through.

Li Xiao asked, “Any more?”

Song Jin replied with a sour face, “Out!”

Li Xiao rapidly analyzed the entire structural exit, using the reinforced hilt of his blade to strike the surrounding framework. A complete sweep revealed zero hollow points or structural weaknesses.

Watching his methodology, Song Jin immediately caught on, gesturing for the two guards to assist in mapping the framework.

“Over here!” a guard called out, pointing directly into the jagged breach.

Peer through the gap, the mechanical linkages connecting the dual-shutter system were visible. Li Xiao reached his hand into the recess, feeling around until his fingers locked onto the primary manual release override. Gritting his teeth, he delivered a violent, full-body yank, forcing the base of the heavy shutter to grind upward, creating a narrow clearance.

Suddenly, the distinct sound of a metallic object rolling across the floorboards echoed out, coming to a rest just a short distance away. Song Jin caught a glimpse of it—a high-output flashbang. He barked a sharp warning: “Get down!”

Before Li Xiao could even retract his arm, Song Jin lunged forward, shoving him hard as they both went airborne, crashing to the floor a considerable distance away.

A violent, high-decibel acoustic scream detonated through the corridor, accompanied by a wave of intense, crippling vertigo. Li Xiao’s ears rang with a deafening, high-pitched whine as his consciousness began to fracture and slip away in waves. His auditory perception was significantly more acute than an average human’s, meaning the concussive force of an acoustic weapon inflicted double the neurological trauma on him.

Song Jin pushed himself up, shaking his pounding, disoriented head. He slapped the shoulder of Li Xiao, who was pinned beneath his frame, but received absolutely zero response: “Hey! Babe? Big darling?”

Li Xiao remained completely unresponsive, while the footsteps of the advancing black-clad reinforcements were drawing closer by the second.

Signaling the two secret guards to lay down suppressing fire, Song Jin decisively dragged Li Xiao’s limp form behind the relative safety of a massive structural metal pillar, propping him up against the framework.

“Li Xiao? Li Xiao!”

Seeing that shaking his shoulder yielded nothing, Song Jin resorted to slapping his face. Survives a literal barrage of incendiary strikes unscathed, only to be taken down by a standard flashbang? What an absolute waste of a handsome face; it would be a tragedy to die this early.

“Li Xiao? Li——!”

Song Jin leaned directly into his ear to yell, only for a slender, calloused hand to firmly plant itself against his face, shoving him back.

“Stop shouting…” Li Xiao opened his eyes with immense difficulty, his voice raspy and low. “You’re going to make me entirely deaf.”

Song Jin: “…” Still has the energy to crack jokes. Looks like he’s perfectly fine.

Seeing that he had regained consciousness, Song Jin signaled the guards to clear the breach ahead. He hoisted Li Xiao’s arm over his shoulder, supporting his weight as they moved rapidly toward the exit.

Li Xiao glanced sideways at Song Jin. Remembering the raw anxiety and intense focus he had caught in Song Jin’s eyes the exact second he woke up, an indescribable sensation settled in his chest. He suppressed the unfamiliar flutter, shifting his gaze toward the battlefield further down the hall.

The ten individuals were still locked in a brutal fire-fight with Kylin’s reinforcements. They had sustained severe casualties—three lay motionless in pools of blood, though it was impossible to tell if they were dead or merely incapacitated by the concussive blasts.

As they crossed the threshold of the blast door, Li Xiao tapped Song Jin’s shoulder, his voice low: “Bring them along.”

Song Jin’s tone turned sharp: “You barely have enough strength to stand, and you’re worrying about strangers?”

Li Xiao replied, “I have a strong feeling you are going to want their physiological data.”

Song Jin’s eyes narrowed instantly, boring a lethal glare into him. Facing the terrifying gaze, Li Xiao acted entirely unfazed: “Consider it a return gift for waking me up.”

Song Jin suppressed the mounting questions in his chest, his face dark as he gestured for the guards to draw the survivors out. A guard scooped up a chunk of debris, hurling it against a metal column to create a loud echo before shouting at the top of his lungs: “The exit over here is clear! Move, now!”

Beyond the blast doors lay the security screening checkpoint. Due to the electromagnetic pulse detonation, every single piece of electronic screening equipment had experienced total system failure. The group moved rapidly through the long metal corridor, only to run headfirst into a fresh fireteam of Kylin security.

Without a single word of negotiation, the incoming fireteam hurled a flashbang straight toward them.

Song Jin kicked the live ordnance right back into their faces, while a guard slammed the heavy security door shut, pivoting instantly to lead the group down an alternate transit corridor.

A muffled explosion reverberated through the framework, sending a violent shudder through the entire structure. Noting the tight frown on Li Xiao’s face, Song Jin asked in a low whisper, “Are you genuinely that vulnerable to acoustic weapons?”

Li Xiao replied, “Now that you’ve discovered my weakness, are you thrilled?”

Song Jin flashed a wicked smirk: “Is it that obvious?”

Li Xiao: “…”

The moment they breached the external exit of the structure, a brilliant flash of light illuminated the night sky. Li Xiao violently grabbed Song Jin by the collar, yanking him back inside the threshold.

A massive concussive pressure wave from an external detonation sent the hover vehicles parked in the open lot tumbling across the asphalt, while a howling gale whipped up a dense wall of sand and industrial debris, obliterating all visibility.

A thunderous explosion rocked the area, followed by a violent tremor through the earth.

It appeared Raven had officially commenced their orbital bombardment. Li Xiao had never personally witnessed Kylin’s anti-missile defense network, and he had no data on how long it could hold out under a sustained assault.

A chaotic flurry of footsteps echoed from the corridor behind them. The mustached Alpha and his remaining squad emerged, supporting their heavily wounded comrades, their clothes saturated in blood.

Sensing their defensive posture, Song Jin spoke up clearly: “My extraction assets are stationed outside. There is a fully equipped medical team inside the vehicle. Get your wounded into immediate triage.”

Kylin’s reinforcements could pursue them at any second. Waiting for the worst of the concussive winds to subside, the group broke into a dead sprint, navigating through the edge of a massive industrial scrap heap. A battered, non-descript hover transport vehicle was already idling in the shadows, waiting for them.

The secret guard slid the side door open. Before he could speak, Song Jin tilted his chin toward the mustached Alpha behind them: “Treat their wounds first.”

Catching the unspoken directive in his eyes, the guard nodded immediately, stepping down with his colleague to assist the wounded Alphas into the cabin.

The mustached Alpha helped his final comrade inside, then turned back to face Li Xiao and Song Jin: “Who exactly are you people?”

Li Xiao replied smoothly, “Not your enemies.”

The mustached Alpha was clearly unsatisfied with the evasive response, but he chose not to press for details. As long as their lives were no longer in immediate jeopardy, peripheral questions could be shelved for the time being.

Once the leader climbed aboard, Song Jin shifted his gaze back toward the skies above the Rubik’s cube. Although Raven’s incoming missiles were being actively intercepted by the ground-based automated defense network, the sheer scale of the engagement was massive. Yet, the starship hovering directly above the Rubik’s cube remained entirely stationary—it had clearly sustained critical systems failure from his micro-EMP blast.

If that starship’s observation decks were packed with wealthy patrons watching the blood match, then the top tier of Kylin’s leadership was undoubtedly trapped aboard as well. This was an unprecedented operational window.

Having recovered a portion of his strength, Li Xiao noticed Song Jin turning on his heel to head right back into the danger zone. He reached out instantly, intercepting him: “Behave yourself.”

“The one who needs to behave is you, patient,” Song Jin said, brushing his hand away.

Li Xiao looked up at the darkened starship hanging in the upper atmosphere: “Don’t tell me you intend to infiltrate that vessel.”

Song Jin offered zero denial, turning to walk away.

“Have you lost your mind?” Li Xiao locked his hand around his forearm. “Can’t you see the atmospheric volatility up there? The pressure waves alone could rip a standard chassis apart, let alone a standard hovercar.”

Song Jin looked back at him with a relaxed, lazy gaze: “We’re already here.”

Li Xiao: “…”

Aboard the starship, communications and sensor arrays were completely offline, leaving the vessel dependent on its emergency auxiliary power grid to maintain basic life support and propulsion functions.

Inside the VIP observation lounge, every single surveillance feed had gone dark. Cut off from the match below, a crowd of wealthy patrons clad in opulent formal wear were growing increasingly hostile. The Kylin administrative staff were running themselves ragged attempting to pacify their high-value clientele, completely overwhelmed.

In the primary command bridge, Kylin’s top commander—a man named Jin Dafu—slammed his fist on the console in a towering rage: “Restore the surveillance feeds immediately!”

The technician stationed at the console was sweating through his uniform, his fingers flying across the input keys: “We are actively isolating the breach, but a complete system restoration is going to take time!”

Jin Dafu seized the man by his collar, lifting him clear off his seat: “I don’t pay you people exorbitant salaries to sit around and twiddle your thumbs!”

The technician stammered, “But… but the electromagnetic countermeasure they deployed is far too advanced. Given our localized equipment, I’m afraid… I’m afraid… ugh!“

Before he could finish the sentence, Jin Dafu knocked him unconscious with a brutal punch to the jaw.

“Our equipment is the most sophisticated in the entire sector! How could we possibly be paralyzed by a single device?!” The veins on Jin Dafu’s neck bulged with fury as he roared to the remaining crew, “Unload every scrap of ordnance we have in the bays onto the ground below! I want those bastards blasted to absolute dust!”

Suddenly, the starship shuddered violently. Caught completely off guard, Jin Dafu was thrown hard against the primary command console, grimacing in intense pain.

“What happened?!”

“Raven! Raven’s capital elements have entered the sector!” a crew member screamed in panic.

“What are you panicking for?!” Jin Dafu sneered, his expression turning venomous. “They’re exactly who I’ve been waiting for! Alert all automated heavy batteries—fire at will!”

The crew member hesitated, his voice trembling: “Sir… we have zero targeting data…”

Missiles were detonating directly above their hull; if their automated tracking failed, they could easily be destroyed by friendly fire.

Left with no viable options, Jin Dafu’s temper flared: “We’re evacuating! Secure the shuttle!”

The primary helm pilot called out in despair, “The localized interference is too severe! Our propulsion systems are locked out—we can’t move!”

Jin Dafu: “What?!”

Outside the starship’s primary hangar bay.

Li Xiao and Song Jin had deployed their respective hover vehicles, idling in a blind spot. Following the electromagnetic pulse blast, the starship’s proximity sensors and security cameras were completely fried, leaving only the auxiliary power grid functioning. Even as their vehicles drifted close to the hull, the automated security AI failed to register their presence.

Predictably, the primary hangar bay doors began to grind open manually. The two smoothly glided their vehicles inside, slipping into an unlit, obscured corner of the deck.

Shortly after, a frantic crowd flooded into the hangar. They rushed toward the primary escape shuttle, only to realize its electronic ignition sequence was entirely unresponsive. Cursing violently, they abandoned the craft, rushing back toward the standard ground transport section where the hovercars were parked.

Having thoroughly reviewed the intelligence dossiers earlier that afternoon, Li Xiao instantly recognized the figure bringing up the rear of the group: the top boss himself, Jin Dafu.

The man was an Alpha in his late fifties, sporting a heavy beer belly, a pockmarked face, and layers of priceless gemstones draped around his neck—the textbook definition of a lawless nouveau riche.

The moment Jin Dafu climbed into his armored transport, Li Xiao and Song Jin launched their vehicles from opposite sides, pursuing him into the night.

Raven’s orbital bombardment was still raining down across Sector B. Navigating a hovercar under these conditions was a death wish; anyone without elite piloting skills would be instantly flipped by the concussive pressure waves.

Inside the armored transport, Jin Dafu was a nervous wreck, peering out the reinforced glass every few seconds: “How did a foolproof operation turn into this disaster?! Weren’t we fully prepared for every contingency?!”

The subordinate riding in the front passenger seat replied with immense difficulty, “We don’t know which bastard deployed that high-density EMP. Everything was proceeding perfectly according to schedule…”

“A single countermeasure completely paralyzed our entire infrastructure! Do you have any idea how pathetic that sounds?!” Jin Dafu gripped his trousers, sitting on pins and needles. “If this operation falls through, how am I supposed to answer to the leadership?!”

The transport suddenly plunged in altitude, nearly throwing Jin Dafu from his seat: “What the hell are you doing?!”

The driver darted his eyes between the side mirrors: “Hostile vehicles have lost control—they’re tracking straight for us!”

From behind, Li Xiao and Song Jin executed a flawless pincer movement.

Their initial pass lacked coordination, allowing the armored transport to slip through the gap. Li Xiao recalculated instantly, throwing his vehicle into a sharp, beautiful pivot mid-air, scraping directly past the flank of the transport.

Jin Dafu’s driver panicked, throwing the steering wheel over to avoid a collision. The moment he stabilized the chassis, he looked up only to see the secondary hover vehicle hurtling straight toward them at an incredible velocity.

Directly ahead, Song Jin held the steering wheel with a dead, unblinking focus, his foot burying the accelerator into the floorboards. He had absolutely zero intention of swerving.

“Swerve! Get out of the way!” Jin Dafu slammed his fist against the armrest, screaming at the top of his lungs.

A split second before head-on impact, the driver yanked the wheel hard to the side, narrowly evading the collision. The three occupants inside were thrown violently across the cabin, left thoroughly disoriented.

The subordinate finally noticed that the engine profiles of the two pursuing vehicles were completely non-standard. Drawing a modified sidearm from his hip, he growled, “They haven’t lost control—they’re actively targeting us!”

Suddenly, another of Raven’s micro-missiles impacted a localized defense grid, unleashing a deafening explosion nearby. The resulting shockwave sent a violent tremor through their transport, making steady flight practically impossible.

Recalling Song Jin’s reckless proposal back at the scrap heap to hunt down Jin Dafu by vehicle, Li Xiao could only marvel at the sheer absurdity of it. Under these atmospheric conditions, a single miscalculation meant certain death. Yet, instead of successfully dissuading the man, he had wound up joining the hunt himself.

Having adapted to the violent wind shear, Li Xiao adjusted his trajectory, diving low before scraping his vehicle’s reinforced upper chassis directly against the underbelly of Jin Dafu’s transport.

The transport was already struggling to maintain equilibrium; caught by the sudden upward force, it flipped completely upside down.

The moment Li Xiao cleared the impact zone, Song Jin followed up instantly, delivering a precise, calculated clip to the rear bumper. The heavy armored transport began to descend toward the earth like a leaf caught in a hurricane, spinning uncontrollably.

“Ahhhhh——!” the three occupants inside screamed in terror.

The driver managed to slam the emergency manual brakes a fraction of a second before impacting the terrain, mitigating the worst of the kinetic energy.

The subordinate crawled out from the shattered window with immense difficulty. Looking up, his vision met a pair of straight, long legs. Before he could even register the facial features of the individual standing over him, a heavy tactical boot connected with his jaw, knocking him out cold.

Song Jin scooped up the fallen sidearm, spinning it lazily around his index finger before firing a single, clean round to neutralize the driver as the man attempted to reach for his backup weapon.

Jin Dafu was on the verge of vomiting from the violent descent. Li Xiao hauled him out of the crumpled frame with a single hand, dumping him onto the dirt like a spineless sack of mud.

Song Jin looked down with a expression of pure disdain: “How does a creature like this wind up running an entire syndicate?”

In the distance, several heavy Kylin warships were beginning to lift off; their automated command structure was finally organizing a counter-offensive.

Hoisting the semi-conscious warlord, Li Xiao signaled Song Jin that it was time to clear the area. Kylin’s localized military capacity was comparable to the corporate fleets of the Ulong Syndicate; if they were locked onto by heavy assets, escaping Sector B alive tonight would become an mathematical impossibility.

While Kylin and Raven tore into each other in a fight to the death, two non-descript hovercars cut through the shadows of the industrial waste heaps, tearing away from the Rubik’s cube toward the outer perimeter.

Along the transit route, Li Xiao kept his eyes on the rearview mirror, tracking the retreating firestorms of the battlefield before asking quietly, “What is the exact effective radius of that electromagnetic ordnance you deployed?”

Song Jin sat in the passenger seat, casually using a localized antiseptic kit to clean the lacerations across his skin: “It was a prototype I grabbed out of a lab locker on a whim. I have absolutely no idea.”

Li Xiao: “…”

Sensing the suspicious silence from the driver’s seat, Song Jin added flippantly, “It’s a custom build from a master technician. Even his discarded prototypes are infinitely superior to standard military-grade hardware.”

Li Xiao: “…”

He had a very clear idea of exactly whose workshop that device had originated from. If that particular individual’s engineering was dictating the parameters tonight, Kylin was likely facing total annihilation.