Under the spotlight, the golden statue of the Feng bird was quickly wrapped in a layer of blood-red, crimson liquid sliding down from the platform and gradually spreading toward their feet. As the fluid gushed out in massive quantities, a heavy, metallic scent of blood began to permeate the air.

Song Jin stepped back in disgust. In his peripheral vision, he noticed the mustachioed alpha raising a crossbow and pulling the trigger at the projection device. With a crisp crack, accompanied by the sizzle of an electrical short, the floating projection device was destroyed. The man yanked it with a rope, slamming it against the metal wall until it shattered. The virtual screen vanished, and the massive space fell into an eerie silence, save for the heavy breathing of the ten people present.

Li Xiao scanned his surroundings. Except for the passage they had entered through, he found no other exits. Yet, according to the previous scan, there should have been at least eight more channels.

The ground vibrated slightly. Li Xiao and his three companions grew tense, quietly closing ranks. The ceiling, thirty meters above, opened from the center, allowing the harsh, clinical light of the Cube to spill down. It turned out that the ceiling was actually the floor of the first-floor lobby. The levels were fully connected; Li Xiao and the others were at the bottom of a massive shaft, looking up to see the starship hovering at the top of the Cube, its giant screen still touting the “magical efficacy of blood.”

Suddenly, surveillance equipment descended from various floors, circling the shaft as hundreds of virtual screens materialized simultaneously. The AI host appeared again.

【Please, enjoy your completion reward to the fullest!】

The AI finished with a wild laugh, its face morphing between male and female, its expression becoming increasingly grotesque. The laughter, encoded with surround-sound, was a nightmare for anyone with sensitive hearing.

Li Xiao endured the throbbing in his temples and signaled for Song Jin and the others to move quietly toward the exit. The Qilin organization’s provocation was too blatant; there was likely a trap waiting. If they didn’t leave now, they would become cannon fodder in someone else’s war.

“Tonight, none of you are running away!” The mustachioed alpha glared at the high screen, his teeth gritted, snarling in Danse language.

Danse language. Li Xiao and Song Jin exchanged a silent thought. Noticing his secret guard covertly collecting a sample of the blood on the ground in a small vial, Song Jin followed Li Xiao, retreating toward the entrance.

When they first entered, it was too dark to notice, but now Li Xiao saw that the walls were made of scrapped metal parts—uneven, jagged, and full of sharp edges. A faint clack-clack-clack echoed in the air. Li Xiao froze, signaling for the others to stop as he surveyed the metal walls. Dense rows of firing ports emerged from all directions, revealing sharp steel bolts.

With this density, are they trying to turn us into minced meat?

Li Xiao reached for the hilt of his military knife, quickly hunting for the sensors. Since the trap was mechanical, destroying the sensor components would stop it. There were twenty sensor locations in total, but he didn’t know which one was the trigger. Before he could act, the ten men on the other side struck, firing crossbow bolts at the sensors. The cables pierced the devices, but the clack-clack sound continued.

Not those! Li Xiao’s expression darkened as he strained his ears.

Song Jin kept his eyes on the firing ports, calculating the odds of a clean escape. The exit was ten meters away; at best, they could only dodge the fatal blows. His two bodyguards stood firm, shielding him.

Amidst the shrill laughter, a row of steel bolts fired. Li Xiao heard a distinct, short click and threw his military knife with lightning speed. The blade tore through the air, embedding itself precisely into a sensor. The steel bolts were blocked, clattering to the ground, and the sound of mechanical gears grinding to a halt faded away.

The mustachioed alpha noticed, casting an astonished glance their way, but quickly turned his focus back to the starship above.

Li Xiao took two tentative steps forward, confirming the trap had ceased, and signaled for the others to follow. “Hurry!”

Just as they were two meters from the exit, a blast gate slammed down, sealing the passage. Song Jin swore under his breath. He had never been toyed with like a piece of prey before.

“It’s useless. Don’t waste your breath,” the mustachioed alpha said with his back to them. “They never intended to let us go. They won’t let you just walk out of the passage.”

Li Xiao probed calmly: “You knew this from the start? Then why did you come in?”

The man didn’t answer.

In Song Jin’s earpiece, an urgent report arrived from his subordinate: “Raven detected! They’ve split into two teams—one to the North of Sector B, one to the West. The Cube is expected to be within their attack range in ten minutes!”

Raven? Song Jin frowned. He had encountered them at N2781—how were they showing up everywhere?

Li Xiao was looking for another way out when he noticed Song Jin pull a palm-sized metal rod from his waistband. Li Xiao raised an eyebrow: “What is that?”

“A slingshot.” Song Jin twisted his wrist, and the rod expanded into a weapon. He fished a metal ball the size of a ping-pong ball from his pocket, loaded it, and aimed at the sky. His voice was low and gravelly: “I’ve played along for long enough. It’s a courtesy I’ve given them, but these dogs don’t know when to quit.”

Song Jin released the string. The ball flew at incredible speed, transforming into a tower-shaped microwave emitter in mid-air and releasing an electromagnetic pulse. Every virtual screen flickered and died. Li Xiao checked his device; no signal.

A micro-EMP?

With the surveillance dead, the Qilin organization couldn’t track them. Song Jin turned and began scaling the metal wall: “Raven is on the way. We have less than ten minutes.”

Raven is really coming? Li Xiao climbed, thinking of the message Jiang Chi had sent last night. Were they here to profit from the chaos of the gold-rush competition, or was there another reason?

The ten men noticed the screens go dark, huddled for a quick discussion, and then rushed to the walls to drop ropes, preparing to bolt.

After climbing a dozen meters, three black objects fell from the sky, detonating into a sky-full of fire.

“Careful, incendiary bombs!” a guard shouted to Song Jin.

The stone statue was blown to pieces. Song Jin gritted his teeth, shielding his head and gripping the metal protrusions to keep from being thrown by the shockwave. His body was raked with cuts from flying shrapnel. In the blink of an eye, the space below became a sea of fire. The heat was scorching, and Li Xiao’s hair was drenched in sweat, which ran down his face, mixed with blood.

“Faster!”

The metal wall was heating up rapidly, burning even through his gloves. The guard with the rope jumped up first, throwing the end down to Song Jin.

Three more incendiary bombs fell. BOOM.

The flames climbed higher, the heat and shockwave nearly making Li Xiao lose his grip. He stabbed his knife into a circular metal part to anchor himself. The rope, thrown down, was blown away, snagging on metal debris in the distance. The guard pulled it back to retract it, but suddenly sensed movement behind him. He instinctively dodged, a bullet grazing his head.

Black-clad men with rifles surrounded them. Judging by their attire and modified weapons, they were clearly Qilin’s men.

The wall’s temperature was becoming suffocating. Li Xiao waited until his breath steadied, then climbed again. Suddenly, a rope dropped in front of him. He looked up to meet the eyes of the mustachioed alpha standing above.

“I never owe anyone a debt,” the man said.

Before Li Xiao could respond, he noticed a black-clad man closing in. “Right side!”

The mustachioed alpha dodged, a bullet piercing his left arm, missing his heart by inches. Li Xiao confirmed the rope’s anchor, grabbed it, and used his legs to propel himself toward Song Jin.

“Over here!”

Song Jin didn’t hesitate, grabbing Li Xiao’s arm to reach for the rope. Once Song Jin had a firm grip, Li Xiao kicked the end of the rope toward the other guard.

Gunfire erupted in the lobby. Li Xiao jumped up, saw three gunmen charging, dove to the ground, swept one over, seized his rifle, pulled the trigger on the other two, and smashed the butt of his gun into the throat of a fourth man trying to rise. He dropped all three in an instant.

Song Jin seized the chance to circle around a metal pillar, twisting a gunman’s jaw and taking the dropped rifle. Nearby gunmen noticed and rushed over, only to be killed by the two guards. The four retreated while fighting, reaching the nearest exit.

The gate was locked by a heavy blast door. Clearly, a knife wouldn’t cut it. Song Jin pulled a small metal ball from his pocket and stuck it to the gate.

Li Xiao glanced at it: “What’s this?”

“Micro-armor-piercing round.” Song Jin pressed the button and motioned for them to hide behind a giant metal pillar a few meters away.

Li Xiao: “…” Exactly how many weird things are in his pockets?

BOOM.

The gate was blown open, but unfortunately, there was a second layer. Song Jin cursed, forced to use the other armor-piercing round the guard had brought. It only blew a thirty-centimeter hole—not large enough for a grown man.

Li Xiao: “Anything else?”

Song Jin looked sour: “No!”

Li Xiao scanned the exit, tapping the wall with his knife hilt, but found no hollow spots. Song Jin understood his intent, signaling the guards to help search.

“Here!” a guard shouted, pointing at the gap. Through the hole, they could see the internal mechanism of the gates. Li Xiao felt around, found the control part, and pulled hard, opening a gap at the bottom of the gate.

Suddenly, something rolled through the crowd and landed nearby. Song Jin saw it was a sound-flash bomb and yelled, “Back away!”

Li Xiao was pushed forward by Song Jin just as the piercing noise exploded. A wave of dizziness hit him. His ears hummed, and his consciousness began to slip. Because his hearing was sharper than most, the sound-flash bomb caused him significantly more damage.

Song Jin steadied himself, shaking his throbbing head, and patted Li Xiao, who was slumped under him. No response. “Hey! Babe? Baby?”

Li Xiao was unconscious, and the gunmen were still closing in. Song Jin had the two guards provide cover while he decisively dragged Li Xiao behind a relatively safe metal pillar.

“Li Xiao? Li Xiao!” Seeing that shoulder-patting didn’t work, he tried slapping his face. Can’t be killed by incendiary bombs, only to be taken out by a sound-flash? Such a pretty face, what a waste.

“Li Xiao? Li—!”

He leaned into Li Xiao’s ear to shout, only to be pushed away by a slender, strong hand.

“Stop yelling…” Li Xiao opened his eyes with difficulty, his voice hoarse. “My ears are going to be deafened by you.”

Song Jin: “…”

He can still joke, so he’s fine. Since he was awake, Song Jin signaled the guards to open the door, draped Li Xiao’s arm over his shoulder, and helped him toward the exit.

Li Xiao looked at Song Jin, thinking of the anxious, tense gaze he had first seen upon waking. There was an indescribable feeling there. He suppressed the agitation and scanned the battlefield. The ten others were still in a fierce struggle with Qilin’s men, severely injured. Three lay covered in blood—dead or simply knocked out by the sound-flash.

As they stepped through the gate, Li Xiao patted Song Jin and whispered: “Take them with us.”

Song Jin’s tone was sharp: “You have time to worry about others?”

Li Xiao: “You should really want their physical data.”

Song Jin’s heart skipped a beat as he looked at him with sharp eyes. Faced with a death stare, Li Xiao acted as if nothing was wrong: “Consider it a return favor for waking me up.”

Song Jin suppressed his questions and ordered the guards to lure the others over. The guards threw rubble at the pillars, shouting at the top of their lungs: “The door’s open! Get over here!”

Beyond the gate was the security zone. Due to the EMP, all equipment had failed. Song Jin’s group moved swiftly through a long metal corridor, colliding with a squad of Qilin men. The enemy tossed a sound-flash bomb without a word. Song Jin kicked it back, the guard slammed the metal door shut, and they sprinted toward another passage.

A dull boom echoed, and the entire corridor shook. Seeing Li Xiao frown, Song Jin whispered: “Are you that afraid of sound-flashes?”

Li Xiao: “Are you happy that you found my weakness?”

Song Jin smirked: “Is it that obvious?”

Li Xiao: “…”

They reached the door, and suddenly a blinding flash lit up the night. Li Xiao grabbed Song Jin and pulled him back. The shockwave from an explosion sent the parked hover-cars flying, and a storm of sand and dust obscured their vision.

BOOM.

The ground shook violently. Raven had arrived. Li Xiao had never seen Qilin’s missile interception system, so he didn’t know how long it would hold.

Behind them came messy footsteps. The mustachioed group arrived, carrying their injured, covered in blood. Seeing their wary eyes, Song Jin said, “My men are outside. There’s a medical team in the vehicle. Get your people first aid.”

Qilin’s men could catch up at any moment. As the wind and waves died down slightly, the four sprinted to a corner of the metal scrap mountain, where a battered hover-car waited. The guard opened the door, and before he could speak, Song Jin gestured at the mustachioed man: “Get them healed.”

The guard understood, immediately complying and helping the men inside. The man sent his comrades up, then stood by the car looking at Li Xiao and Song Jin: “Who are you people?”

Li Xiao: “Not your enemies.”

The man wasn’t satisfied, but he didn’t press for the truth. As long as his life wasn’t threatened, everything else could wait.

Once the man boarded, Song Jin looked up at the Cube. Although Raven’s missiles were intercepted by the ground-based system, the commotion was significant. The starship hovering over the Cube remained motionless, evidently also affected by the EMP. If there were other perverted VIPs watching the battle from the ship, then the Qilin ringleader was likely there too.

This is a perfect opportunity.

Li Xiao was recovering slightly and turned to see Song Jin walking back in a rush. He hurriedly blocked him: “Behave yourself.”

“You’re the one who needs to behave, patient.” Song Jin brushed him aside.

Li Xiao looked up at the sky: “Don’t tell me you’re going up to that ship.”

Song Jin didn’t deny it, turning and walking away.

“Are you crazy?” Li Xiao gripped his arm. “Can’t you see what’s happening up there? The ship might be cracked, never mind the hover-cars.”

Song Jin looked at him languidly: “We’re already here.”

Li Xiao: “…”

The ship had no signal, relying on emergency backup power. In the viewing cabin, all the screens were black. The VIPs in high fashion were furious. The Qilin managers were desperately trying to appease them.

In the command cabin, the Qilin boss, Jin Dafu, slammed the table in a rage: “Restore the surveillance, now!”

The technician at the controls was drenched in sweat: “We’re working on it, it needs time.”

Jin Dafu grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him up: “I pay you such a high salary, not to sit here and play around!”

Technician: “But, but the EMP jammer they used is too advanced, our equipment probably… probably… Ugh!” Before he could finish, he was knocked out by a punch.

“Our equipment is the most advanced in the industry! How can we not deal with it?!” Jin Dafu’s neck veins bulged with anger. “Throw every piece of ammo we have at them! Blast them to hell!”

The ship suddenly shuddered violently. Jin Dafu hit the console, grimacing in pain. “What’s happening?!”

“Raven, Raven is here!” a subordinate shouted.

“What are you panicking about?!” Jin Dafu sneered. “This is what we were waiting for! Notify all turrets—blast them!”

Subordinate hesitated: “No signal…” If the missiles exploded overhead, they might hit the ship itself.

Jin Dafu was furious: “We’re retreating first!”

Pilot: “We’re too heavily jammed, we can’t move!”

Jin Dafu: “What?!”

Outside the ship’s hangar.

Li Xiao and Song Jin each piloted a hover-car, scouting the area. After the EMP, the ship’s sensors and monitoring systems were damaged, leaving only the power system barely functional; even if they approached, they wouldn’t be detected by the AI.

The hangar door opened slowly, as expected. They slipped inside, parking in an inconspicuous corner. Soon, a crowd poured in, boarded a shuttle, found it wouldn’t start, cursed, and headed toward the parking area.

Li Xiao had reviewed the files earlier today; he spotted Jin Dafu at the rear. He was an alpha in his sixties with a beer belly, a pockmarked face, and layers of precious gemstones around his neck—the very picture of a vulgar parvenu.

Once he boarded, Li Xiao and Song Jin followed from opposite directions.

Raven’s bombardment continued. Escaping in a hover-car was extremely dangerous; a gust of wind could flip them at any moment. Jin Dafu was restless in the backseat, checking the situation outside: “How did it get like this?! Didn’t we prepare for everything?!”

The subordinate in the front managed to say: “I don’t know which son-of-a-bitch used an EMP, it was all going so smoothly…”

“A single jammer crippled us! Isn’t that ridiculous?!” Jin Dafu gripped his pant leg, sitting on pins and needles. “If this screws up, how do I answer to the people above?!”

The hover-car suddenly dropped in altitude. Jin Dafu was nearly thrown out: “What are you doing?!”

Pilot looked at the rearview mirrors: “Other cars are losing control and crashing into us!”

From behind, Li Xiao and Song Jin were closing in. Their first pass wasn’t coordinated well, allowing them to escape. Li Xiao shifted direction, his car making a graceful turn in the air, grazing the other car. Jin Dafu’s pilot jerked the steering wheel in panic. Before he could steady the craft, another hover-car came barreling straight at them.

Opposite, Song Jin held the steering wheel steady, watching ahead, flooring the gas with no intention of swerving.

“Dodge, quick!” Jin Dafu screamed.

At the very last millisecond before collision, the pilot jerked aside, barely avoiding the impact. The three inside were dizzy. The subordinate finally realized the models of the two cars weren’t random, pulled a gun from his waistband, and snarled: “They aren’t out of control, they’re attacking us!”

Raven’s small missiles collided with interceptor missiles once again with a loud boom. The blast wave caused the hover-cars to vibrate violently. Thinking of Song Jin’s earlier suggestion to ambush Jin Dafu, Li Xiao thought it was absurd. Under such adverse conditions, they could easily kill themselves.

Yet, he hadn’t been able to talk Song Jin out of it, and he’d come along. Once he adapted to the wind force, Li Xiao adjusted his direction, grazing the undercarriage of the target car. The target car was already shaky; with this nudge, it flipped upside down.

Li Xiao had just flown away when Song Jin followed, giving the rear of the car a gentle nudge. The car drifted like a leaf in a storm, shaking as it fell toward the ground.

“Ahhhh—!” The three inside screamed.

The pilot managed to hit the brakes just before hitting the ground, minimizing the impact. The subordinate struggled to crawl out of the window, looked up, and met a pair of straight, slender legs. Before he could make out the face, he was knocked out with a kick.

Song Jin picked up the man’s handgun, twirling it casually between his fingers, and ended the pilot when he tried to grab a gun. Jin Dafu was so battered he was nearly throwing up; Li Xiao pulled him out of the car with one hand, leaving him sprawling on the ground like a pile of mud.

Song Jin looked disgusted: “How did a guy like this become a boss?”

Several starships rose into the sky in the distance. Qilin was beginning its counterattack. Li Xiao dragged the man and signaled Song Jin to run. Qilin’s combat power was no match for a dragon, but if they were targeted by the opponent, it would be difficult to leave safely tonight.

While Qilin and Raven were locked in a life-or-death struggle, two inconspicuous hover-cars sped through the metal scrap mountain in the night, racing in the opposite direction of the Cube.

On the road, Li Xiao drove, looking at the battlefield fading into the distance. He asked softly: “What’s the range of your EMP?”

Song Jin sat in the passenger seat, cleaning his wounds with a disinfectant tool: “Just grabbed a test prototype, I don’t know.”

Li Xiao: “…”

Feeling Li Xiao’s suspicious silence, Song Jin said casually: “A master’s test prototype—even the worst of it is better than street junk.”

Li Xiao: “…”

He probably knew who made it. If it was that kid’s work, Qilin was likely in for a disastrous night.