Shen Le sank decisively, swiftly, and aggressively into the ground.
You dared to kill me. If I don't kill you back, I'll look far too weak. Even a rabbit will kick an eagle when bitten! Though I did sneak across...
Pah, what sneak across? Treasure Island is an inseparable part of the motherland. Coming to my own country's territory doesn't count as sneaking across even after ten thousand years!
In any case, if I don't turn your world upside down, you won't know the Horse King has a third eye!
He sped through the earth veins, his first destination the small walled courtyard where the ceramic shard was located. He tunneled beneath the courtyard, rose upward, drew close, and sensed the situation within:
It was utter chaos inside—footsteps running, people shouting, wheels rolling endlessly. Shen Le pricked up his ears and listened carefully. Before long, he picked out the scattered cries:
Not all of it was Chinese—or rather, Chinese made up only a small portion of it, and it was the timid, submissive portion being ordered around and shouted at.
The majority, the dominant language, was English—English with a somewhat strange accent.
Shen Le was not quite sure what accent it was, but it definitely was not the standard London or New York accent he was used to hearing at school.
Maybe... Texas English? Indian English? Or Japanese English?
That was not important. What mattered was that they were searching for him, and they harbored ill intent toward him.
Based solely on a bit of humming they had heard while passing by him—or perhaps also an image captured from surveillance footage—they had identified him and deployed a .50-caliber sniper rifle against him—
Then none of you are getting out alive!
Shen Le slowly steadied his breathing and pressed both hands