The sun set, and the moon rose.
On a sheer cliff at the edge of Sea Island, a figure emerged from the sea, pressed close to the rock face, and climbed silently upward, stepping on jutting edges of stone.
Lian Youming looked solemn. The instant he left the water, a thought stirred, and he reined in his qi dynamics to the utmost, blending into the surrounding world as though becoming nothing, diminishing his presence.
He had made a brief survey during the day.
Three sides of Sea Island rose steeply from the sea, leaving only the front accessible to boats. Patrols rotated around the perimeter every three hours, and every patrolman walked steadily with a powerful lower body. They were martial artists to a man.
Not to mention the gunman stationed in the watchtower, who stayed there for more than half a day at a time. He was most likely skilled too.
And that did not even include the experts Gu Chan had mentioned.
Halfway up, Lian Youming suddenly stopped.
Footsteps and voices had come from the island above, more than thirty meters overhead.
The sea breeze dispersed the moisture in his clothes, and together with his body heat, dried his outfit completely before long.
Lian Youming remained still as a rock, but inwardly weighed how to proceed.
This was the back of Sea Island. He had thought slipping inside would be easy, only to find patrols on guard here too.
Just as he held his breath and stilled himself, loose stones suddenly fell from above. A brief struggle and a scream followed, and a dark figure flashed past his eyes, plunging straight down.
The two even exchanged a glance in midair.
The other man was white, with a hideous, gaping wound on the right side of his neck, blood