# 413
Chapter 413 – Escape
“Knights of Holy Judgment…” Lin Qiye muttered the name over and over.
“They used some strange method to detect me, then started hunting me,” Bell Cranel said through the pug. “Their way of fighting is completely different from your Forbidden Ruins. Their power seems to come from their armor—those suits give them tremendous strength and speed, even special abilities like fire and lightning. The more red patterns on the armor, the stronger they are.
“The leader, even without his heavy motorcycle, has terrifying speed. With a wave of his hand he can release blinding holy light. By your cultivation tiers, he’s at least ‘Boundless’. Fortunately I’m a fraction faster. Once I fled outside London, they gave up and withdrew into the city.
“After that I never set foot in London again. I kept heading east until I found this mysterious land free of the fog.”
Bell Cranel fell silent, finished.
Lin Qiye frowned, sank back into the rocking chair, and lost himself in thought.
The information was staggering.
Humans were still alive inside the fog, wielding strange power—able both to resist the mist and threaten mighty “mysteries.”
How had they survived? Where did those armors come from?
Blessing of the gods?
And beyond them, were other survivors in other countries?
Did they possess power too?
The more Lin Qiye considered it, the clearer it became: Great Xia understood far too little about the fog. The so-called lifeless forbidden zone held secrets far more complex than anyone imagined.
“I’ve told you everything I know,” the pug said meekly. “Could I add one tiny condition?”
Lin Qiye glanced at it. “What?”
“Could I switch jobs? I don’t want to clean toilets…” The pug’s eyes brimed with humility.
“… ” Lin Qiye smiled kindly. “No.”
……
“Cough, cough, cough…”
On a desolate, empty shore, a drenched fat man staggered across jagged reefs toward land.
Briny water dripped from his hair. His face was bloodless, lips pale, eyes so bloodshot they kept fluttering shut. His pupils were unfocused; he looked ready to collapse.
“Ugh—”
He dropped to his knees on the reef and vomited seawater, then broke into violent coughs.
“Damn… lucky this young master’s tough.” Baili Pangpang knelt a long while before rising again, weakly talking to himself. “Plenty want me dead, yet here I am, lively as ever. Stop me from getting back to Guangzhou-Shenzhen? In your dreams!”
He dragged himself toward the coastal road.
Before the missile hit the plane, Baili Pangpang had realized the drink was drugged. Thanks to Night Watch will-training back in camp—and because he’d taken only one sip—he’d stayed conscious. Just then the pretty attendant, Xiao Xu, had pulled a relic from under the counter and attacked.
Knowing he couldn’t win in his daze, Baili Pangpang blasted the cabin door with Wind-Thunder Scroll and leapt out.
Mid-fall he saw a missile streak in and obliterate the private jet.
The explosion drenched him in cold sweat—another second and he’d have been shredded with the aircraft.
Plummeting, he released Yaoguang to slow his descent and steer himself into the sea near shore.
Fighting the sedative, he swam twenty minutes before crawling onto this beach.
Near collapse, he reached the road, looked around, and sat down hard.
Unlike the bustling Golden Coast of Honglian City, this place was deserted—rolling hills, a single winding road, no end in sight.
The setting sun slanted lower.
Back to the sea, Baili Pangpang sat on the asphalt, leaning against the guardrail, head lowered in thought.
This ambush felt different.
They’d known his exact route and schedule, planted a mole aboard, even arranged a missile—no, the plane itself was unfamiliar; probably part of the trap.
How had they slipped it all into his itinerary?
And why hadn’t the Baili family reacted, as if nothing happened?
He recalled the stewardess Xiao Xu’s words:
“This is Young Master Jing’s plane…”
“Young Master Jing earns the group far more than one private jet…”
“We can’t let you reach Guangzhou-Shenzhen alive…”
Return to Guangzhou-Shenzhen.
Birthday banquet.
Young Master Jing.
“Baili Jing…” Eyes narrowing, Baili Pangpang murmured, “Was it you…?”
Beep—beep—!!
In the dim light, a blue Chevy with high beams raced along the road.
Baili Pangpang’s eyes lit. He forced himself up, stepped into the middle of the road, and waved frantically.
The car slowed and stopped.
“You crazy?!” the driver barked, rolling down the window.
Baili Pangpang walked over, opened the door, and slid into the passenger seat.
The man gaped. “Who the hell are you? Who said you could get in?”
Baili Pangpang glanced at him, pulled out a thick wad of cash, and tossed it onto the driver’s seat.
“Drive.”