Baldy was aboard a private plane, leaving San Francisco.
The plane had been arranged by Gate of Heaven and belonged to some wealthy man. It had nothing to do with Baldy, and no matter how thoroughly the government investigated, they would never trace it back to him.
With Victor and the others still alive, Baldy's identity as a mole had been completely exposed. He was now a fugitive fleeing justice and had no choice but to act cautiously.
Watching the city grow smaller beneath the night sky, a hint of melancholy flashed across Baldy's eyes.
He had grown up in this city, struggled here, and spent half his life here.
Now he was being forced to leave his hometown. From here on, he could only live in hiding within Gate of Heaven.
But compared with death, that was nothing.
Baldy had a feeling that if he dared to stay in San Francisco, neither the North American Government nor the Blood Emperor would let him go.
Only by hiding in Gate of Heaven's base would he be safe.
He pulled his wistful gaze away, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes to rest. Now that he had left San Francisco, he could finally let go of the tension he had been carrying.
The Blood Emperor would never guess that he'd flee by plane in the middle of the night. North America was huge; it'd be hard to find him again.
So what if he was an emperor? He could still be fooled.
Baldy's lips curled into a slight smile, and his mood gradually improved.
But he had no idea that a futuristic-looking fighter jet was racing after him from San Francisco at nearly the speed of sound.
That was already as fast as it could go, given the fighter's