Klaue's black aircraft, like a startled bat, plunged headlong into the depths of the rolling mountains on the border of Wakanda.
Ye Mo stood there, the acrid smell of the sonic cannon explosion still lingering in his nostrils, his ears ringing. He didn't rush to chase after it, but instead closed his eyes.
The cold, emotionless notification sounded in my mind again: [ Spatial Perception module activated. Filtering background noise... Calibration in progress...]
In his eyes, the world instantly lost its original colors. Sunlight, trees, rocks—these visual signals were stripped away, replaced by a three-dimensional grid composed of countless lines. The air was no longer transparent, but filled with flowing textures. The Force Field became patches of blue in varying shades, and thermal radiation appeared as clusters of red halos.
On this complex "map," a bright orange-red dot is moving rapidly along the winding valley. That is Klaue's aircraft.
Although the distance had increased, Ye Mo could clearly feel the thermodynamic residual effect left by the engine's exhaust flame. It was like throwing a stone into a calm lake; the ripples were still spreading, only getting smaller and smaller.
"Found it."
Ye Mo opened his eyes, and the pale blue light in his pupils quickly faded, returning to normal. He turned to look at the two people behind him.
T'Challa stood beside a broken stone pillar, his Vibranium claws on his Black Panther Suit slightly open, warily scanning his surroundings. Emma Frost, pale-faced, leaned on Ye Mo's shoulder, her breathing somewhat rapid. She had expended too much energy trying to disrupt Klaue's mental power, and now even standing upright seemed a bit difficult.
"He's flying southeast at a high speed, but hasn't entered Hiss cruise mode yet." Ye Mo pointed to the lush forest ahead. "The terrain there is complex, with many canyons and cliffs; he'll use these obstacles to obstruct our view."
T'Challa frowned slightly, glancing in the direction Ye Mo was pointing. "That's a no-man's-land. It's common for ordinary people to get lost there, but the fact that he chose that area means he's very familiar with the terrain, or... he came prepared."
"No matter who he is, as long as he's still running, we have to chase after him." Ye Mo clapped his hands, his tone as casual as if he were talking about going downstairs to the convenience store to buy a bottle of water. "Otherwise, if he flies across the border, we'll have to go to the United Nations to catch him."
Emma Frost looked up, her eyes slightly weak, but she still nodded. "I can maintain a low-intensity mental link to help you pinpoint his approximate location. But I need to conserve my mental energy and cannot maintain high-precision tracking for an extended period."
"No problem." Ye Mo smiled. "You'll be my navigator, and I'll lead the way. T'Challa, you're the fastest, so keep up with me and don't fall behind."
Without another word, the three disappeared into the dense forest ahead.
The forests along the Wakanda border are completely different from the neatly manicured parks back home. Here, there are jagged bushes, sharp thorns, and slippery moss everywhere. The soil underfoot is soft, and you sink in halfway with every step.
Ye Mo walked at the front, his steps were not fast, but they were exceptionally steady.
With his " Spatial Perception " vision, the road conditions ahead are clear at a glance. He can detect protruding tree roots, loose rocks, and even subtle changes in airflow.
He avoided a seemingly flat but actually treacherous mud pit, sidestepped a dead branch that had been thrust across his face, and moved with the fluidity of a stroll in his own living room.
"Ten meters to the left," Ye Mo said in a low voice.
T'Challa immediately changed direction, dodging the branches whistling from the side. Emma Frost followed closely behind, her body hovering a few centimeters off the ground as she carefully weaved through the dense foliage, afraid of tearing her clothes or ruining her makeup—even though her current disheveled appearance was far from aesthetically pleasing.
"He's speeding up." Ye Mo suddenly stopped and raised his hand to signal the people behind him to stop.
In his field of vision, the orange-red dot of light brightened, and the surrounding air began to ripple violently. Klaue clearly sensed the pursuer behind him and began to accelerate desperately, trying to create distance.
"There's a river ahead," Ye Mo pointed.
Through the dense canopy of trees, a wide river stretched out before me. The water was swift, splashing white foam, and roaring. Conventional thinking would be to look for a ferry or bridge and take a longer route to catch up.
But Ye Mo didn't look at the riverbank; instead, he looked up at the surface of the river.
"There's a hot air current rising above," Ye Mo explained. "As Klaue's aircraft accelerated, the high-temperature exhaust gases heated the surrounding air, creating a localized updraft. Although it's weak, it's enough to provide a little lift for a light assault vehicle."
T'Challa paused for a moment, then said, "You mean, he wants to use this airflow to cross the river?"
"That's right." Ye Mo's lips curled into a cold smile. "He thought he could shake us off this way, but in reality, the trajectory of this airflow is his landmark. If we take the detour to the river, it will take at least twenty more minutes. Jumping across will only take five seconds."
After saying that, Ye Mo suddenly sprinted forward, using his feet to propel himself up like a cheetah.
In mid-air, he adjusted his posture, grabbed the trunk of a thick, ancient tree with both hands, swung with the force, and his body drew a graceful arc, landing steadily on the rocks on the opposite bank of the river.
T'Challa didn't hesitate at all; his Black Panther instincts made him adept at this kind of extreme jump. He followed closely behind Ye Mo, landing with a muffled thud and kicking up a cloud of dust.
Emma Frost, on the other hand, leaped lightly, drifting in with the help of the breeze, her movements as light as a feather.
The three reunited and continued their journey deeper into the mountains and forests.
As they ventured deeper, the terrain became increasingly rugged. Huge rocks piled together formed natural barriers. The trees blocked out the sun, dimming the light, and the air was filled with the damp, musty smell and the stench of decaying leaves.
Ye Mo's Spatial Perception began to be interfered with.
The vegetation here was too dense, with intertwined roots, causing the transmission of ground vibrations to become chaotic. In addition, as Klaue constantly changed his flight altitude, sometimes diving into the valley and sometimes climbing to break through the clouds, the traces he left in the spatial grid became intermittent.
"He's playing a cat-and-mouse game." Ye Mo wiped the sweat from his forehead, his tone tinged with impatience. "He's deliberately creating a false heat source to mislead our judgment."
Indeed, several blurry points of light appeared in the field of vision, distributed in different directions. Some pointed to the deep valley on the left, and some pointed to the high slope on the right.
T'Challa was getting a little impatient. He stopped and looked around. "How do we tell them apart? Which one is real?"
Emma Frost took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried to glean more subtle information through the mental link. After a moment, she opened her eyes, her face even paler. "There are two real heat sources, one is Klaue's aircraft, and the other... is probably a decoy drone he released."
"Drones?" Ye Mo raised an eyebrow. "This old guy's really willing to invest."
"Really, that one has more stable energy fluctuations and a distinct metallic resonance frequency." Emma Frost pointed to a narrow ridge to her right. "Go that way."
Ye Mo did not question it and turned to the right.
Sure enough, he hadn't gone far when he sensed a clear orange-red dot of light in the spatial grid ahead. Klaue's aircraft was flying close to the mountain wall at an astonishing speed, almost touching the rock face to avoid protruding boulders.
"He's panicking," Ye Mo analyzed. "Flying at high speed in this complex terrain has an extremely low margin for error. If we crash into the mountainside, the consequences would be unimaginable."
Just then, the sky suddenly darkened.
The once clear sky had suddenly become covered with large, dark clouds. Thunder rumbled, and lightning flashed through the clouds, illuminating the dark valley.
"It's going to rain." T'Challa looked up at the sky.
Ye Mo, however, keenly sensed that the rain was coming too strangely.
In the field of Spatial Perception, the distribution of electrical charges in the clouds exhibits an unusual regularity. It is not a naturally occurring thunderstorm, but a phenomenon caused by some kind of high-energy particle impacting the atmosphere.
"He's summoning thunderclouds." Ye Mo's heart skipped a beat. "He's using the electromagnetic interference of lightning to conceal his movements and disrupt our senses."
No sooner had he finished speaking than a dazzling bolt of lightning struck, followed by a deafening clap of thunder.
The spatial grid in Ye Mo's mind was instantly covered by a large amount of white noise, and the lines representing directions became distorted and blurred. He felt a violent dizziness, as if someone had hit the back of his head hard with a hammer.
" Ye Mo!" Emma Frost exclaimed, reaching out to support the swaying Ye Mo.
"It's alright..." Ye Mo gritted his teeth, enduring the headache, "His interference is strong, but I can't stop."
He forced himself to calm down, shutting down some of his perception of the external environment and focusing instead on internal mental construction. Since external signals were being interfered with, he would rely on memory and logical reasoning.
What is Klaue's goal? To escape Wakanda and return to safety.
In this no-man's-land, the only safe zone is the northern exit. No matter how he changes direction, his ultimate direction will always be north.
"Ignore the noise." Ye Mo pushed Emma Frost's hand away and steadied himself. "Follow my instincts. He keeps running north, even if he goes in circles, the destination is still north."
T'Challa glanced at Ye Mo, a hint of admiration flashing in his eyes. Maintaining such clear judgment in such a chaotic environment was indeed a remarkable mental fortitude.
"Walk."
The three set off again, braving the wind and rain, and raced northwards.
The rain soaked their clothes, chilling them to the bone. The muddy road made every step incredibly heavy. But no one complained, and no one stopped.
Veins bulged on Ye Mo's forehead; every time he used his Spatial Perception, he was draining his mental energy. But he knew this was not the time to rest. Klaue was just ahead; if he could capture him, he could uncover a much larger conspiracy.
Deep in the mountains and forests, a dark shadow loomed in and out of sight amidst the thunder and rain.
That was Klaue's aircraft, struggling desperately like a trapped Beast.
Behind it, three small figures clung tightly, like a persistent leech.
The wind picked up, and the rain intensified.
Ye Mo wiped the rain off his face, his gaze fixed on the chaotic darkness ahead.
He knew that the real contest had only just begun.