Translator: CinderTL
"Where is everyone else?" Jiang Cheng scanned their surroundings. They were in a slightly sunken hollow on the mountainside, but Lin Wan'er, Luo He, and the others were nowhere to be seen.
"Yeah," Fatty said, rubbing his neck and stretching. "The mission's over. They should have come out by now. Where did they all go?"
Before they could get their bearings, they heard footsteps approaching from the side. The two immediately ducked into hiding, waiting until a familiar figure emerged.
"Boss Lin?" Fatty exclaimed in surprise.
Huai Yi trailed closely behind Lin Wan'er, looking much worse for wear. His clothes were torn, and countless small cuts and scratches covered his face and hands.
"Brother Jiang, you're finally awake!" Huai Yi's previously dull eyes lit up at the sight of Jiang Cheng.
"How did you get yourself into this state?" Fatty asked, his eyes wide.
At the same moment, Jiang Cheng and Lin Wan'er exchanged a brief glance, as if understanding something unspoken. Jiang Cheng's entire demeanor instantly shifted to alert.
"This isn't the place to talk. We need to move," Jiang Cheng said urgently, immediately searching for an escape route.
As they hurried away, Huai Yi tearfully recounted the events of the past hour. It turned out they had completed the mission over an hour earlier.
At that moment, Jiang Cheng, Fatty, and Fu Fu were all unconscious.
To make matters worse, just as they were preparing to leave, they were ambushed by a group of unidentified assailants.
In a desperate move, they hid the two unconscious members here while the rest pretended to flee, drawing the attackers away.
"Where's Pi Ruan?" Jiang Cheng asked immediately, knowing they couldn't delay any longer.
Huai Yi's expression flickered at the name. After a moment of hesitation, he stammered, "Brother Jiang, there's something wrong with Pi Ruan. He's working with Luo He and Fu Fu. I saw him carrying Fu Fu away while Luo He held off the pursuers."
"The people lying in ambush in the forest were targeting them specifically. After Boss Lin and I split from them, they stopped chasing us."
"And..." Huai Yi paused, his voice growing hesitant.
Fatty couldn't contain himself. "And what? Spit it out!"
"Pi Ruan's body... it's changed. The skin on his face is cracked, and he's bleeding heavily." Huai Yi lowered his voice, meeting Jiang Cheng's gaze. "He's also a Disciple of the Door... and he's been corrupted to the absolute limit."
The Night Watchers had sealed off the area. Only they would dare to stage such a brazen arrest, and given their extreme caution, the identities of Luo He and his group were becoming glaringly obvious.
Crimson.
Pi Ruan was also a member of Crimson, the hidden eyes that had been lurking by Jiang Cheng's side all along.
Yet, strangely, Jiang Cheng felt little resentment toward Pi Ruan, this Crimson operative who had been infiltrating his life. He even harbored a faint hope that Pi Ruan might escape the Night Watchers' pursuit.
Glancing back one last time, Jiang Cheng turned and walked away.
Huff...
Huff...
A figure darted between the trees, the steep terrain making his already unsteady steps even more precarious.
Just staying upright was a struggle, let alone carrying someone on his back.
Finally, with a thud, he tripped over an exposed tree root. He had seen it, but his body couldn't react in time.
Pi Ruan, his face concealed by a nylon stocking mask soaked in blood, gasped for air as the unconscious Fu Fu lay slumped nearby. Blood seeped continuously from wounds across his face.
A figure rushed up behind him. Pi Ruan shook his head, but his vision blurred—blood had flooded his eyes, tinting the world crimson.
"How are you?" A figure crouched before him, first glancing at Fu Fu before reaching out to remove Pi Ruan's silk stocking mask and check his injuries.
But Pi Ruan grabbed his hand, shaking his head and swallowing the bloody froth in his throat. "I can't run anymore. This... this body has reached its limit."
He turned to look at Fu Fu, still unconscious, then shifted his gaze back to Luo He. "No. 3, take No. 8 and go."
"I can't leave you to them," Luo He said firmly.
"Heh," Pi Ruan grinned. "Don't be an idiot. If you try to take me, none of us will escape. Take No. 8 and go while you still have a chance."
Luo He had a fresh shoulder wound that was still bleeding profusely. The Night Watchers had clearly come prepared this time, and their pursuers included several formidable opponents.
"Enough. Remember what you promised me," Pi Ruan urged, sensing Luo He's hesitation. "They're closing in."
Hearing the footsteps behind them grow closer, Luo He finally relented. He scooped up Fu Fu and fled deeper into the dense forest. Moments later, Pi Ruan, left to face certain death, found himself surrounded.
The pursuers numbered fewer than expected, only seven or eight, uniformly clad in full camouflage gear with masks covering their faces.
Despite the masks, their eyes revealed that most were young adults in their early twenties.
"Two of you stay here. The rest, continue the pursuit," a cold female voice commanded. It seemed a woman led the group, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail.
"I can stay alone," a man replied, his voice steady and reliable.
After a moment's hesitation, the woman nodded. Intelligence reports indicated that the man lying on the ground was Crimson No. 4. He might have been formidable once, but now he barely clung to life.
With a final word of caution to the man, the woman led her team after Luo He, who had fled toward the river.
"Cough... cough..." Pi Ruan coughed violently, spitting blood. The intense exertion had drained his last reserves of strength.
Suddenly, a foot slammed onto his chest, the pain causing every muscle in his body to tense. The man who had remained slowly removed his mask, revealing a sharply defined face. "I'm here to collect your life debt, you bastard!" An Xuan growled.
Great Capital City.
The suburbs.
The gates of a villa hidden deep within a dense forest slowly creaked open. Guards in black suits stood vigilant, their eyes sharp and alert, clearly indicating the villa's security had been raised to maximum alert.
Everyone was on edge, as if facing a formidable enemy.
In stark contrast, the newcomer exuded nonchalant indifference, his unconventional attire adding to the dissonance.
A man dressed like a Western cowboy stood before the villa's gate, lightly tapping his boot heel against the ground, eyes closed, a blissful expression on his face.
He seemed lost in some unheard melody, utterly absorbed in his own world.
Yet beyond the occasional rustle of wind, the guards heard nothing.
As the gates swung open, the cowboy-clad man opened his eyes, smiled, and strode into the courtyard, then toward the three-story villa beyond.
The guards maintained their relentless vigilance, their gazes glued to the man's every move. His footsteps varied from light and quick to heavy and deliberate, moving to some peculiar, rhythmic cadence.
The guards suddenly had the unsettling feeling that he wasn't walking at all—he was dancing.
(End of the Chapter)
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