The air in the mine tunnel grew increasingly stuffy, as if someone had tightly covered his mouth and nose with a cloth. Ye Mo moved forward, hugging the rock wall, his shoes barely touching the gravel, each step a gamble with his heartbeat. The vibration signal from the black chip still lingered in his palm, though it had stopped almost half a minute ago. He knew it wouldn't last much longer—either its energy would run out, or it would be destroyed if Ronan kicked a rock at it.
Now it's all up to me.
He stopped, crouched down, and placed his palms on the ground again. There was no vibration, no heat feedback, and even the wind was unusually still. Looking ahead, the tunnel branched into three, as black as if it had been doused with ink. These old-fashioned mining tunnels, in order to save costs back then, were all designed with the shortest straight lines and sharp turns, without any consideration for escape routes. Now, they had become a natural maze for those trying to escape.
"System," he murmured to himself, "Is Spatial Perception working now?"
[Cooldown complete, ready to use]
The voice was still that mechanical, emotionless, and unhurried tone. Ye Mo grinned, thinking that if this thing had a slightly teasing tone, like, "The person you are looking for is straining their left leg, we suggest you speed things up," it would be perfect.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then sank his consciousness into the " Gene Spiral Tower " in his chest. On the third level, a gray-blue ability module was sealed, labeled "Unnamed - Spatial Disturbance Type." This was a fragment he had picked up when he encountered a dying Mutants on the outskirts of Wakanda. At the time, the man was using his ability to sense the direction of Vibranium vein, only to be shot in the head by Klaue. Ye Mo touched the corpse and obtained this puzzle piece.
Now, it's time to put it to use.
His mind focused, but there was no light or image before him. Instead, a strange "feeling" suddenly exploded within him—as absurd as suddenly being able to hear ultraviolet light. He "saw" a purple line, stretching out crookedly in three-dimensional space, like someone drawing a trail in the air with a highlighter. It was a spatial ripple caused by the Power Stone within Ronan's body. Ordinary people couldn't see it, and instruments couldn't measure it accurately, but it was indeed disturbing the structure of reality.
And Ye Mo can now "taste" its flavor.
He opened his eyes, no longer looking at the ground, but staring at the fork in the road in the middle. A purple trail passed through it, its edges still slightly trembling—indicating that the target had just passed by and its movements were unstable. The trail on the left also had a slight ripple, but it was too neat, as if Iron Chain was deliberately dragged along to create a false mark. The trail on the right? There was no movement at all.
"He's quite the actor," Ye Mo said in a low voice. "It's a pity a wounded soldier can't pretend to be a special forces soldier."
He got up and walked briskly along the central path, his steps more relaxed than before. Spatial Perception wasn't real-time monitoring; each activation only provided a "preview" for about three seconds before he had to refocus. Moreover, every time he used it, his head felt like it had been hit on the back of his head with a wrench, buzzing and his vision went black. He had to use it sparingly, like holding onto the last bit of mana in a game.
After walking another twenty meters, the passage began to slope downwards. The overhead pipes were severely corroded, and condensation dripped onto his shoulders, making him shrink back from the cold. Ahead, a set of abandoned elevator shafts appeared, the iron frames leaning askew, the cables broken, leaving only a dark, vertical opening. The purple trail bypassed the opening and continued forward, hugging the right rock wall.
Ye Mo frowned. A normal person wouldn't take a long detour to escape unless there's an obstacle ahead. He approached the well and peered down—it was pitch black, and the wind blew upwards, carrying a metallic, acrid smell.
He raised his hand and reactivated his Spatial Perception.
Three seconds.
His field of vision shifted instantly. This time, he could "see" further. The purple trail not only bypassed the wellhead but also left a series of faint refraction points on the opposite wall—someone had briefly hovered using the armor's jetpack. Ronan didn't take the main path but instead jumped over the broken bridge and used the opposite rock wall to climb over.
"Wow, you're really something. A seriously injured person can still do extreme sports?" Ye Mo clicked his tongue in amazement. "I just don't know if you're genuinely brave or if you're just in too much pain to care about your leg."
He took two steps back, ran up, leaped, grabbed a fairly sturdy steel bar opposite him, and flipped over. His knees buckled upon landing, and he almost knelt, quickly grabbing the wall for support. Another wave of dizziness washed over him, this time worse than before; several white specks flashed before his eyes, like a faulty old television signal.
"Two more uses and I'll probably be bedridden," he shook his head. "But it's better than letting him get away."
Keep following up.
The path narrowed further, requiring one to squeeze through sideways in some places. The corrosion on the walls increased, and a faint smell of ozone began to waft through the air—a sign that the high-energy engine was about to start. Ye Mo's heart tightened, and he quickened his pace.
After another sharp turn, a glimmer of light suddenly appeared ahead.
It wasn't the yellow light of a miner's lamp, nor was it starlight; instead, it was a cool white glow that kept intensifying, as if something was charging up.
He immediately pressed himself against the wall, slowly shuffled to the corner, and poked half his head out.
The exit was just fifty meters ahead. The mine tunnel ended abruptly here, revealing a wide, flat area of gravel. Under the night sky, a medium-sized Kree warship hovered silently three meters above the ground, its six anti-gravity engines humming softly. The hatch was slowly opening, and a ramp automatically unfolded, leading into the interior.
Fifteen meters ahead on that slope, Ronan was dragging his left leg, inching forward. His armor had cracked even more, and the purple light flickered like a faulty light bulb. He held the scepter in his mouth, his hands bracing against the ground, his whole body like a wounded lizard, leaving a bloody trail on the gravel.
Ye Mo immediately activated his Spatial Perception.
This time, he didn't look at Ronan, but instead focused on the spaceship itself. The energy signals reflected from the metal hull formed a silhouette in his mind—the cockpit, engine room, cargo hold, escape route... all were clearly visible. And at the bottom of the spaceship, near the landing pad, there was a weak but stable energy node, pulsating in sync with the engine frequency.
"Self-destruct safety pin." He recognized it. "Standard configuration for older Kree models; detonates the core ten seconds after unauthorized boarding is detected."
He twitched the corner of his mouth slightly.
In his current state, Ronan can't even crawl, so he definitely won't have time to manually deactivate the safety mechanism. In other words, as soon as he steps onto the landing platform, the system will determine "unauthorized entry," and the countdown will start.
"Either we blow you up, or we fight to the death," Ye Mo said in a low voice. "Choose, General."
But he didn't move.
He knew that rushing out now would be tantamount to forcing the enemy into a corner. Even if Ronan was on his last breath, he could still smash the Power Stone into the ground before he died, creating a crater. At that point, forget about capturing anyone; the entire area would collapse.
He has to wait.
When Ronan was completely desperate, when he thought he was safe, and when he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He took off his silver half-rimmed glasses and stuffed them into his pocket. The starlight outside was too strong, and his pupils couldn't adjust for a moment. Once his vision returned, he looked at the battlefield again.
Ronan had already climbed to the foot of the landing rig. He tucked his scepter under his arm, grabbed the first rung of the metal ladder with both hands, and began to pull himself up. His movements were agonizingly slow, and his shoulders trembled with every effort. Blood trickled down his thighs, leaving a trail of dark red marks on the ladder.
Ye Mo estimated the distance: he was about thirty meters from the landing platform, which he could reach in five seconds by sprinting. At Ronan's current speed, it would take him at least twenty seconds to enter the cabin. He had enough time.
But he still didn't move.
Because at that very moment, Ronan suddenly stopped.
He looked up at the sky.
It's not just about seeing, it's more like "listening".
Ye Mo immediately became alert. He activated his Spatial Perception again and scanned his surroundings.
No abnormalities were found.
There were no hidden signals, no additional energy sources, and not even a change in wind direction.
Ronan's expression changed. He had initially shown only pain and anxiety, but now there was a hint of... hesitation.
"What is he waiting for?" Ye Mo narrowed his eyes.
Then he understood.
It's not that I'm waiting, it's that I'm afraid.
Ronan knew the ship had a self-destruct mechanism. He wasn't sure if it was a trap. Perhaps it wasn't his support ship at all, but a trap set by the enemy. He was now alone, critically wounded, and any misjudgment could be fatal.
So he stopped at the last step.
Between life and death, there is only one step.
Ye Mo took a deep breath and slowly lowered his center of gravity.
Right now.
He didn't need to wait for Ronan to fully relax; he only needed that fleeting moment while Ronan was still struggling—when a person is caught in the dilemma of "fear of death if they move forward, but survival if they retreat," their reaction will be delayed by 0.5 seconds. And that 0.5 seconds was enough for him to rush over.
He moved.
Without a running start, he leaped off the wall and shot towards the spaceship like a bullet. The tools in his work pants pockets jingled, but he didn't care. His eyes were fixed on Ronan's back, and only one thought occupied his mind: stop him, don't let him step onto the landing pad.
The wind whistled in my ears.
Thirty meters was covered in the blink of an eye.
Ronan seemed to sense something and suddenly turned around.
Their eyes met in mid-air.
In that instant, Ye Mo saw the astonishment, anger, and a hint of... resentment in the other person's eyes.
Then he rushed to the bottom of the landing platform and reached out to grab the edge of the ladder.
Ronan also exerted his strength at the same moment, trying to climb up.
But it was too late.
Ye Mo's hand had already gripped the metal bar.
He looked up at the soldier above him, his body covered in cracks, and said, panting:
"Dude, your ticket has expired."