Chapter 8

The battle took another turn. Though Fang had been forced back for the moment, he steadied himself, immediately grabbed a rock nearby, and hurled it at Thornton. As he wound up to throw, the muscles in his arm bulged one by one, gleaming with sweat. His explosive strength was astonishing.

Thornton was still dizzy. The rock cracked against his forehead, and he cried out in pain, staggering backward with blood covering his face.

At the same time, Fang kicked a Lincoln Navigator in front of him. The vehicle was sent flying seven or eight meters into the air by his monstrous strength. It rolled with a thunderous crash and came down toward Gale. Its windows shattered, and it bore down like a mountain, its momentum terrifying!

Fang Linyan noticed a detail. Fang seemed to have the upper hand in every way, but it was clearly costing him.

His chest was visibly caved in, and thick, bloody mucus ran from the corner of his mouth. On top of that, kicking the Lincoln Navigator had aggravated the wound in his abdomen.

Thornton's bullet had hit him squarely there, leaving a bloody, ragged hole the size of an orange. When Fang put his full strength into that kick, a great deal of blood sprayed from the wound.

For an ordinary person, injuries like these would be severe. Most people would be sprawled on the ground, screaming. Yet Fang could not only ignore his injuries, he was growing fiercer as the battle went on, keeping two formidable opponents pinned down all by himself!

That was exactly why Fang Linyan thought Fang must be something like a berserker. Perhaps he had an ability that made him stronger the more grievously wounded he was. That was the only explanation that made sense.

So the best strategy for Thornton and Gale now was to keep their distance and stall. If they did that, they would surely be the ones left standing in the end.

To be honest, Fang Linyan's idea was a good one. Gale clearly shared his view. The problem was, he wanted to keep his distance, but Fang gave him no chance. Fang's attacks came like a torrential storm, to the point that Gale could barely breathe!

Faced with the car rolling toward him, Gale could only dodge aside. But right after that came Fang's claws, striking like a phantom. Gale had no choice but to raise his shield.

With a sharp clang, Gale was utterly overpowered. He managed to block Fang's attack, but could not help staggering backward. Worse still, after taking another heavy blow, the surface of his blue-and-white Five-Star Shield developed yet another crack.

Gale had just managed to regain his balance when Fang closed in again, unleashing another flurry of attacks like a raging storm! At last, after taking blow after blow, the shield shattered with a crack.

But Gale used the momentum to leap backward. The force of his punch combined with his backward jump carried him more than ten meters, straight into the sea nearby. He was remarkably calm, keeping his head even in defeat and using the momentum to escape.

As soon as he hit the water, Gale swam away, diving beneath the churning waves with smooth, easy strokes. He was clearly an excellent swimmer. The light was poor, and unless Fang Linyan had been looking down from above, he would not have been able to track Gale's movements.

But Fang actually ran a few steps and dove into the water himself!

Fang Linyan's pupils constricted instantly. Gale had already been swimming impressively well, at the level of a competitive swimmer. But once Fang entered the water, he moved like a torpedo, surging forward at an incredible speed. Strange, shadowy black runes swirled around him, and the speed he reached left a white wake behind him!

This was far beyond swimming underwater. It was as if Fang had a built-in propulsion system. In just a few seconds, he caught up with Gale beneath the surface. Gale still refused to give up. He grabbed the side of Da Fei's boat and hauled himself aboard, soaked from head to toe. He clambered onto the deck with a clumsy roll.

But then Fang burst out of the water with a splash, like a giant fish, and leapt straight onto Da Fei's deck. He punched Gale in the chest, driving his claws right through him with ease. The bone-yellow tips even emerged from Gale's back!

Gale's face twisted with unbearable pain. He was about to say something when Fang gave a sinister grin. His left hand swept out, claws slashing through the air, and Gale's head shot skyward. The scene was brutal.

At that moment, Fang Linyan noticed something utterly bizarre. After Gale died, his body gradually turned transparent. Countless pale-blue, semitransparent digits—zeros and ones—flickered inside him. Then he rapidly shrank and disintegrated into specks of light, which gathered into a strange, blood-red key. Fang picked it up.

Fang Linyan had witnessed it all from nearby, and cold sweat poured down his back. Everything happening before him was completely beyond his understanding. His right hand gripped a rusty fruit knife, which he had found in a nearby pile of junk. The handle was already damp with the cold sweat in his palm.

Though Fang Linyan knew perfectly well that the fruit knife would be useless if he were discovered, it was all he had.

After seeing his companion die so horribly, Thornton turned and ran. His vision had actually returned when Gale's shield was destroyed, but Fang and Gale had been tangled up in a fight, and Thornton had not had a clear shot.

He knew perfectly well that staying would be pointless. He would only throw his life away for nothing. Watching him flee, Fang Linyan silently urged him to run as far away as possible.

That way, Fang would chase after him, giving Fang Linyan a chance to act. Taking everything in the case was unrealistic, but grabbing a handful and getting away should be possible.

But Fang Linyan had apparently been having a run of bad luck lately, and his prayers did him no good. After running more than thirty meters and turning behind a nearby building, Thornton suddenly stopped.

Both his hands, gripping the gun, were glowing. His face was twisted and flushed, and the veins in his neck bulged and writhed like green snakes!

Then he did something strange. He swept both hands out to the sides, as though he meant to fling the guns away. As he did, he fired abruptly. A pale-blue muzzle flash, more than a foot long, burst from the barrel!

Fang Linyan, watching this, had no idea what was going on.

At that moment, a building stood between Thornton and Fang. They could not even see each other. The only result of firing blindly would be to hit the wall.

If it had been a tank's main gun, Fang might have been hurt. But no matter how powerful this shot was, it could not possibly pierce more than two concrete walls and still hit anyone.

But then something happened that left Fang Linyan dumbfounded. The bullet from that shot flew in an impossibly strange arc. More precisely, it curved around the brick wall ahead like a banana kick in soccer, then struck Fang, who was pursuing Thornton!!!

Gun-Fu: Curved Trajectory!

A spray of blood burst from Fang's body!

His momentum did not slow, but his body lurched sideways and crashed headfirst into an abandoned warehouse nearby. A clatter of noise rang out from within, then all fell silent.

Thornton, who had landed the shot, was panting heavily. Sweat poured from him as if that single shot had drained all his strength. He seemed barely able to hold his silver-white pistol, and his arms hung limply at his sides.

His eyes were filled with vicious satisfaction. He took a few steps forward, looking toward the dilapidated warehouse Fang had charged into, and muttered to himself:

"Let's see you survive that!"

The battle had been full of twists and turns, a nerve-racking spectacle. But it seemed that Thornton's stunning shot had finally brought it to an end.

To be honest, Fang Linyan had expected this outcome, but he was not satisfied. Thornton seemed to have suffered no more than a few scrapes. If Fang Linyan showed himself to fight him for the silver-white case, he would probably end up with a bullet in his head—or Thornton might kick him and break half his body.

Thornton did not seem inclined to approach the warehouse where Fang had fallen. Instead, he hurried backward and tossed a grenade into it! Flames immediately burst out from inside with a roar, blazing fiercely.

Then he dashed toward the wreckage of an abandoned tower crane nearby. It was the highest point within several hundred meters. From there, he could jump straight into the sea if he needed to retreat, or command the area from above and shoot down at anyone who came near. It was the perfect position.

But just as Thornton started running, a figure suddenly stood up in the warehouse window, engulfed in flames. It was Fang. If an ordinary person caught fire all over, he would roll on the ground and scream in agony. But Fang stood with an inexplicable calm.

In Fang Linyan's eyes, Fang even remained silent in the middle of the blaze for several seconds. His flesh sizzled as it burned, but he seemed to feel nothing. Then, at last, his eyes fixed on Thornton.

Fang suddenly raised his left hand. It had only four fingers; his little finger had been cut off. He grabbed his left ring finger, ripped it off, and began to gather strength. His whole body drew tight like a bow as he muttered an incantation.

In an instant, faint, deathly-black mist gathered around the severed finger, forming strange patterns and markings that continually appeared and vanished. The sight was uncanny.

Then Fang hurled the finger forward.

The finger shot out like lightning, moving so fast it seemed to teleport, and pierced Thornton's forehead in the distance! The illusions circling the finger turned to black mist once more, which gathered into a twisted, grinning face before slowly fading away.

Thornton's body shuddered. His eyes filled with disbelief. He rolled them upward as far as he could and saw the crooked finger lodged in his forehead. His pupils slowly lost focus. He toppled to the ground, dead at last.

After Thornton died, the same thing happened to him: his body faded, turned into countless digits—zeros and ones—and gradually vanished, leaving behind a blood-red key.

Fang walked over step by step. Once he left the flames behind, the fire on his body quickly went out, but his wounds were still bleeding. Even so, his steps were steady, and he did not look like a man who had been seriously injured.

After picking up the blood-red key, he took out a bottle of pale-red medicine and drank it. Then he closed his eyes and stood there, apparently resting.

The scene was silent, save for the rise and fall of the waves and the crackling of the fire. Fang Linyan did not dare even breathe loudly. He wished he could sew his mouth shut. But just then, he heard a faint sound behind him.

The sound startled Fang Linyan into turning around. In despair, he saw that the woman's body he had examined earlier was the one that had made it. Her hand was groping aimlessly, and indistinct moans escaped her lips. Fang Linyan's heart tightened. He scanned the area and spotted the discarded mini-syringe nearby.

The woman had evidently realized the situation was dire while crawling inside and injected herself with an emergency shot. After struggling against death for so long, the medicine seemed to be gaining the upper hand!

Of course, this was also because Fang Linyan lacked experience. When someone was badly wounded and unconscious, their breathing, blood pressure, and pulse could all slow to a crawl. As they recovered, these signs would gradually return. He had only checked her breath before deciding she was dead. It had been far too hasty.

The wounded woman's movements grew louder and louder. Fang Linyan's face twitched. He took a deep breath, and his entire body abruptly went still. He crawled onto her and pinned her down, covering her mouth with one hand.

But things did not go as he had hoped. Even with her mouth covered, the woman began instinctively to struggle in her half-conscious state, trying to make a series of muffled sounds. At this rate, it was only a matter of time before he was discovered.

Faced with this cruel reality, Fang Linyan pressed his lips tightly together. His gaze suddenly turned cold. He drove the fruit knife in with his right hand. It passed cruelly between her ribs and pierced her heart, while his left hand kept her mouth covered!

The wounded woman's whole body jerked violently. She began to convulse, as if she were a shrimp leaping out of water, but Fang Linyan held her down. After a few seconds, her body stiffened, then slowly relaxed. At last, she stopped breathing.

Fang Linyan was drenched in sweat. His vision darkened, and he felt as though he might collapse.

Several minutes later, Fang finally let out a slow breath of blood-colored mist. His transformed state quietly faded, and he returned to being the muscular Black man with a scar across his chest. Somehow, he flipped his wrist and produced a set of sportswear. He quickly changed into it, pulled on a hood, then walked over to the silver-white case, picked it up, and vanished into the night.

The battle had ended like this!

Looking down at the warehouse, Fang Linyan knew he could not wait any longer. At night, this place could be seen from dozens of kilometers away.

He gritted his teeth and whispered in the dead woman's ear:

"Sorry, but if you don't die, I'll die!"

Then Fang Linyan stood up. Fighting the queasy feeling left by killing someone, he took out his phone and walked from his hiding place into the scene. He lingered beside the bodies for less than a minute before heading into the darkness, apparently searching for something. In the end, the whole thing took only five minutes. He climbed onto his electric scooter and rode away.