To Herzog, Amon was perhaps the most troublesome, most unpredictable opponent he had ever encountered in his long and dark life.
No probing, no maneuvering. He opened with Zero Frame and went straight for checkmate.
With the slightest lapse in attention, he had been forced into a corner. Like a magician whose props had been stolen, standing center stage beneath blinding lights and before a silent audience, his pockets were utterly empty.
This had already touched his bottom line!
If he had been younger, faced with this tidal-wave-like force, he might have chosen to lie low and retreat, prioritizing his own survival.
But now, he was old—the increasingly aged body had little time left. Decades of experiments,
waiting, and planning were all tied to this final moment. He had no chance to start over, nor would he allow the path to "godhood" that he had pursued his entire life to be crushed to pieces at the final juncture by some inexplicable person wielding tanks and helicopters.
He absolutely could not sit still and wait for death!
He forced his violently churning emotions to calm, combing through every corner of his memories in search of any possible bargaining chip that could turn the tables. The Eight Clans of the Serpent had been locked down, Nippon Stronghold was out of control—was there anything else?
In the end, several names that could hardly be brought into the open surfaced in his mind. They belonged neither to the main family nor truly to Nippon Stronghold, merely a group of young people wandering the streets, venting through modified motorcycles and excess hormones: the Red Guard biker gang!
A dead horse was better than no horse at all.
A mad, risky plan quickly took shape—kidnap that An Hai, He Xiaoyu! She was He Xiaomeng's weakness. As