Taunting the Boss

.

The dim light from the bulb hanging on the iron wall illuminated the boiling crucible on the table and the scattered metal fragments.

Apart from the thunder outside and the torrential rain pounding down, the enclosed space contained only the murky breathing that rasped like a bellows.

Red Glove stood bare-chested, gritting his teeth as he changed the bandages around his mangled upper body. Whenever he peeled away gauze stuck to his flesh, crimson blood seeped from beneath the torn scabs.

It was as though countless blades had been stuffed into him. The tiny cuts opened like little pink mouths, spitting scarlet saliva.

"FUCK! That East Xia monster middle schooler..."

Red Glove cursed under his breath, picked up a spray can, and pressed it against his wounds. A cloud of green mist settled over him, hissing as though sulfuric acid had been poured into an alkaline solution.

Amid his suppressed roar of agony, the pale green vapor seemed to come alive, worming into his wounds strand by strand. Then, his entire upper body began to writhe like a nest of snakes.

He collapsed onto the floor, convulsing in pain, unable to hold back his tortured howls any longer.

Something was fighting within his shell of a body. Soon, clotted blood and fragments of organs flowed from his wounds, tinged with deep green and streaks of ash-like black.

That was the Poison of Chang Geng, barely squeezed out from his lungs and viscera...

If it had been anyone else, they would probably already be dead by now. If his Stigmata, Taksin, had not been able to temporarily zombify his body, he likely could not have endured such poison-against-poison warfare.

In just a few seconds, he was drenched in sweat. Sweat mixed with already-rotting blood and ran from his wounds.

He looked like a living corpse dragged from a coffin by tomb robbers.

But no matter what, he was still alive.

This brush with death had even given him much greater confidence in advancing to Night Terror and entering the fourth stage.

When the alarm went off, he finally had the strength to climb up from the floor. He picked up a pair of tongs and poured the silver liquid from the boiling crucible into an iron cup.

It hissed.

How could that possibly be a drink? It was clearly a pool of boiling molten metal!

Even in his half-zombified state, Red Glove hesitated for a long time after lifting the cup. Unfortunately, this hastily mixed Silver Blood Potion was only effective while it remained liquid.

He made up his mind and drained it in one gulp.

Amid scorching agony, he nearly suspected that his mouth and esophagus had been burned to charcoal, but this was a necessary price.

To ordinary people, this liquid was lethal. In truth, it was a miniature Stigmata without rank—a fleeting miracle borne in liquid metal, capable of temporarily repairing damaged Stigmata and flesh, like all-purpose glue.

The technology for keeping it liquid at room temperature was a secret of every Alchemy Workshop and could never be leaked. In his haste, he could only mix this version with severe aftereffects as an emergency measure.

Soon, his mangled upper body actually began to close up. Traces of iron gleamed from within the wounds. The solidifying iron seemed to merge with his flesh, gluing his body, on the verge of breaking apart, back together.

The intense pain also drained away what little strength he had left, making him increasingly groggy until he was nearly unconscious.

With trembling hands, he fished a packet from his pocket, tore open the wrapping, and took out the incense inside. He lit it with the fire of his Source Matter.

Wisps of smoke slipped into his nostrils.

The pallor slowly returned to his face, and the depleted strength of his spirit recovered a little under the stimulation of the incense, though it was not even a tenth of his normal state.

The convenient red and blue potions from online games were hardly realistic. Even if they existed, each vial would cost millions, since they were life-saving items at critical moments.

Metal repaired the body, while incense sustained the soul. That was the daily life of every border Ascender.

Only now did he finally free up a hand, pick up the phone that had been vibrating for a long time, bring it to his ear, and answer it.

"It's me. I'm still in New Sea."

"How are things?" the person on the phone asked.

"I took some injuries. I'm still bleeding. Luckily, I had the Spade 4 you gave me, or I really would have been caught."

With one hand, he laboriously pulled on his coat. "New Sea is completely covered in the Astronomical Society's tripwires now, and the backup Safe House has also been discovered... Don't worry. I'll leave at midnight. I have an escape route prepared. I won't leave any traces."

"Be careful. Don't stay in the Present Realm any longer. Come back as soon as possible."

The person on the phone gave one final warning. "Although New Sea's wedge has not been removed, it does not affect the bigger picture—your mission is already complete. Soon, we'll be able to open a route into Magic City... If the situation becomes critical, make your own decision. Prioritize preserving yourself."

Red Glove hung up without expression and began destroying everything he could not take with him. He finished packing up quickly.

It was 11:15.

It was time to leave this city of living corpses...

Bang!

All of a sudden, a booming impact sounded in the distance.

Red Glove froze and looked toward the surveillance monitor in the corner.

—Someone had arrived.

He spread out his palm, summoned a fish tank, and lowered his head to peer into the water.

Outside the door, a crimson sports car had crashed headlong into a mountain of shipping containers, black smoke pouring from it.

A car accident?

"Cough, cough, cough... Cough, cough, cough..."

Amid the thick smoke, Huai Shi crawled out of the car in a miserable state, dizzy and disoriented. The freezing rain splashed down and jolted him awake.

He looked around blankly, seeing layers upon layers of shipping containers piled high in the dockyard, as well as the sea in the distance, cold and iron-gray beneath the gloomy sky.

"We're here?"

"Yeah, we're here."

Crow, who had narrowly escaped death, flew out of the car and looked around. "Couldn't you find a parking lot? Even if I said we should charge in recklessly, did you really have to be so Iron Head that you drove straight through the place?"

"Did you forget the mess you caused?" Huai Shi glared at her. "Even if I parked, I wouldn't have money to pay the parking fee!"

"Then why not just leave the car here and let Liu Dongli pay after he gets out of the hospital?"

Huai Shi paused. He realized that when it came to being heartless, this lousy bird was still a cut above him. When it comes to being black-hearted, I, Huai Shi, acknowledge you as the strongest.

Braving the heavy rain, he looked around and tried to make sense of the terrain, only to find himself completely lost. Everywhere looked the same: crossroads formed by stacks of colorful shipping containers.

He could not tell where he was at all.

Much less find Red Glove hiding somewhere inside.

They had agreed to go out and hunt monsters.

They had reached the place.

Where was the monster?

Crow pondered for a moment, then offered a terrible idea. "Why don't you try shouting?"

Huai Shi paused, then nodded in agreement. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Hey? Anybody there? Open up, fellow townsman, we're here to spread some warmth... Brother Red Glove, which corner are you hiding in?"

No one answered.

In the darkness, Red Glove stared coldly at the reflection on the water, expressionless.

"What is this? Are they here to be funny?"

In an instant, the water in the fish tank rippled slightly.

That distant perspective swept across the surroundings. After confirming that no one was lying in ambush, it seemed to lower a pair of binoculars before raising something else.

A neat, precise crosshair appeared in the reflection.

As it slowly shifted, it centered on Huai Shi's hood.

At the top of a crane suspended high in the air, the figure lying on the boom beneath a dust cover slowly rose. The torrential rain washed over his pale skin. His vacant eyes held no light at all, save for a goldfish slowly swimming within them.

The heavy sniper rifle was raised level in his hands.

He held his breath.

As he painfully suffocated, the deep barrel extended from those outstretched hands, its black body reflecting the endless rain falling from the sky.

In that instant, through the torrential rain and violent wind several hundred meters away, the scope had already locked onto the blurry, defenseless figure in the rain.

His thumb tightened slightly.

Then, at that very moment, the image in the scope abruptly changed. An enormous scarlet eye emerged within it, staring straight at Red Glove's face as though through the reflection in the fish tank.

The sudden shock made Red Glove's hand tremble, and he nearly knocked over the fish tank.

What the hell!

"What are you doing, little bro?"

The Crow perched on the rifle, sneakily peering into the scope, actually spoke. "Isn't it a little inappropriate to stand so high up when it's raining?"

"Here..."

As she spoke, she raised a claw and placed the object she was holding into the stunned puppet's hand.

"Have something good."

Under Red Glove's control, the puppet instinctively looked down, only to see a thin, slender... iron wire in his hand?

At that instant, a faint azure glow seemed to light up from the wire.

The next second, amid the roaring thunder, he could see nothing at all.

Bang!

"What the fuck!"

Red Glove staggered back a step as though struck by lightning, instinctively clutching his forehead as the Source Matter he had split off was reduced to searing agony by the lightning.

What unsettled him even more was that strange Crow, which inevitably made him think of the famed Crowned One of East Xia, White Emperor Child—the girl who always went around with a pigeon...

A chill suddenly ran down his spine. Just how many monsters of the same batch had those lunatics at Jixia created?

If that was the case, there was no point in avoiding them or hiding any longer.

Only a fight to the death offered even the slightest chance of survival.

His expression darkened. He clenched his fists tightly, and after hearing the sharp sound of steel breaking in the distance, he slowly pushed open the door and emerged from the shipping container where he had been hiding.

Facing the torrential rain, at the intersection between layers of stacked steel, the boy's shouts abruptly stopped.

"You actually came out?"

Huai Shi was surprised as well, as though someone had really appeared after he shouted that no one would save him.

"There's really only one of you?"

Red Glove tilted his head and looked around. Finding no one else, his expression grew colder. "East Xia's people really are getting worse with every generation, huh?"

"Ah, no, you might be misunderstanding something."

Huai Shi awkwardly waved his hand and sighed helplessly. "Although this isn't our first meeting, I suppose I should introduce myself. But I don't really like all that formal stuff, so if you insist on finding a name for me, you can call me..."

As he spoke, he pulled down his hood, revealing his face and the pink mask covering it.

"—Little Peiqi of Huaihai Road."

"..."

Red Glove froze.

What the hell was that supposed to be?

Are you kidding me?

What Little what Peiqi what Huaihai what Road?

Understandably, anyone would be bewildered upon seeing that mask.

And in the instant he froze, Huai Shi, who had prepared for this moment for a long time, drew Liu Dongli's gun from the back of his waist, smoothly aimed it at his face, and pulled the trigger.

—Bang!