The bartender, whose complexion was slightly pale due to malnutrition, pulled out a pen and paper, handed them to Robin Lo, and then pointed to the small room beside him:
–Go in and write it yourself. If you don’t want to write, you can have our people write it for you—one extra day of lifespan per page.–
Robin Lo felt a headache coming on. Selling intel still required him to do the writing.
–Better have someone write it for me. I’m afraid if my handwriting gets out, you might frame it and sell it later.–
The bartender curled his lips and handed Robin Lo a free glass of beer.
This delighted Robin Lo immensely. He took the beer and slipped into the small room, where a young inn employee, standing inside, took the pen from the bartender and followed him in.
After Robin Lo entered the room, two people at a nearby card table cast sidelong glances at the door of the room he had entered, smirked, and then turned and walked away.
Inside the small room.
–How’s it going, buddy? Do you brew your own liquor here?–
–No.– The employee who came in blurted out.
Robin Lo sat down on the chair opposite the small table, drinking as he spoke:
–What kind of person is your boss, anyway, to be running an intelligence trade in a place like this? That’s really something.–
–Oh, him. It’s a joint venture among several people. There’s…–
The young man who took the pen to help write the information suddenly froze as his eyes met the nib touching the paper… who the hell was questioning whom.
–Don’t play tricks on me.– The young man lifted his head angrily.
–Alright, alright, I’m just asking casually.–
Robin Lo, feigning an innocent air, looked around the room and even took a casual sip of his beer.
A few minutes later, the young man walked out frowning, holding a piece of paper in his hand, and handed it over to the bartender.
–That guy said it’s partial info worth five hundred years of Chronos time. The full info will cost an extra fifteen hundred years of lifespan.–
–Fifteen hundred years? Who the hell does he think he is?–
–That’s still the cheapest option.–
The bartender stared at the messy handwriting on the paper.
–Way too much useless claptrap here.– Just as he said that, his pupils suddenly contracted. –Wait. Nen Ability Nightmare? And it’s a symbiotic type!–
The man’s aura suddenly turned deeper, and a red Moxel appeared on his chest.
[True gold fears no fire.]
Red lines flickered as they shot into his hand, setting the paper ablaze as if touched by flames.
His gaze bored deep into the words –Nen-type Symbiotic Nightmare.–
Yet, despite the raging fire, not a single word—including those—on the paper was burnt away.
[One hundred percent real, we’re a bit shocked.]
–It’s actually true.–
The bartender shot a solemn glance at the young letter-writer across from him:
–No one’s to speak of what happened tonight. That ‘Jiazi Term’ guy—we’d better not mess with him. Also, give him five hundred Chronos from the stash.–
–Alright, then are we still selling this intel?–
–Heh, gotta sell it all the same—just can’t make a fuss. Hmm, let’s give one copy to the big boss first.–
The bartender’s gaze drifted toward the small back room, where Robin Lo’s big-hearted, stout figure was pushing aside the curtain and heading out.
Catching the flicker of respect in the bartender’s eyes, Robin Lo said with a low chuckle:
–Confirmed true or false?–
–It’s real, sir. Go along with this young lad over here—he’ll hand over the Chronos. By the way, we also have rooms for rest, each night costing one ‘Moon’—includes a complimentary midnight snack.–
–This really is a nice little joint.– Robin Lo walked over and placed his empty glass on the wooden tabletop. –Oh, by the way, keep an eye out for word on an A-grade collage. It’s a stretch of mountain ranges that’s already begun to merge landscapes.–
–We’ll be watching. But if you can post a task using extra lifepoints, it’d speed things up.–
–Heh, I’m not exactly a land baron.–
After stepping out to reunite with Yang ZiCang, Robin Lo hugged his coat and grumbled: –Whoa, your info only netted him five hundred? That self-proclaimed ‘Lord of Desolation’ edgelord really didn’t have shit cooking.–
–As for the ultimate bounty he offered, how many years was it?–
–The bounty was just that crappy car—compared to your little Matt Chao—not even fit to polish its shoes. He called it a Wild Wagon, but I thought it’d be something better.–
Robin Lo thought to himself, if only he could have that bronze carriage, he wouldn’t need to walk wherever he went, and he’d get a free, obedient bodyguard too.
The best part was that it could be used day and night—apart from not being able to turn invisible.
Yang ZiCang said, –I heard there’s a small pocket space inside the Wild Wagon.–
–Oh? I never heard that.– Robin Lo rubbed his hands and continued, –Even brought out the ‘keeper of the house’—this feels like he’s gearing up to hit the road. He wouldn’t be scrounging together a millennia’s worth of Chronos to leave, would he?–
–Could be.– Yang ZiCang nodded and said, –If he’s selling the car before he goes, it mean the original owner of the Wild Wagon isn’t him.–
The duo walked deep into the wilderness. Before Yang ZiCang, the outline of the Subway Nightmare quickly materialized.
Seeing the –Matt Chao– referred to as –Matt Chao’s mount– cooperating so seamlessly with the young man beside him, Robin Lo was filled with envy.
–Logically speaking, even if you’re the one wearing that telekinetic uniform, the thing could still make someone else its driver. But this guy doesn’t even seem interested in bolting at all.–
『Are you expecting me to ever part from the new Train Conductor.』
The train turned around, its two lamps staring out like round, glowing eyes, casting misty light onto the bloated figure.
Robin Lo jerked a thumb toward the train and said to the young man, –Listen to that talk—I couldn’t catch up even if I whipped my horse to death.–
The two walked up as the train began to go invisible, but suddenly it shot forward with a lurch, speeding toward the distance at high velocity. Yang ZiCang yanked onto the threshold with one hand and, in the same motion, dragged Robin Lo along with the other.
${**_Danger!_**}
[**Dispatch, hold on track!**]
A red phantom dagger slashed dangerously close to the two, grazing by them. Yang ZiCang felt a chill at his chest; his clothes had been cut open, leaving a knife scratch in line with his skin.
At the spot they had just stood, a figure stood still, turning to gaze at the direction of his target’s disappearance.
–What just happened?–
Robin Lo climbed onto the train and rose to his feet.
The train spoke:
${**_There are attacks aimed at you two._**}
Yang ZiCang shut his eyes. Through a sensory image transmitted via the train, he could dimly make out that figure—the red gleam in their hand had already faded.
–Go back.–
With a whoosh, the train shot through the wind, charging back to its original position.
The figure saw the gale surging in and flashing an unusual glint in their eyes, launched the razor-like blade wrapped in red glow.
But at that moment, bang!
Just as this person was focusing on what lay before him, a silver spear suddenly emerged from behind, aimed straight at his heart as it shot through and pierced the ground.
[I countered 20,000 Newtons.]
The figure vanished from the spot.
–Invisibility?–
Robin Lo looked on with envy as the figure disappeared into thin air.
In the howling night wind, Yang Zicang squinted, slowly retracting the silver spear into his Grav-Arc, as the train dissolved into a phantom and vanished.
About ten minutes later, a figure suddenly tumbled out of a hollow in a small hill nearby, coughing up mouthfuls of blood.
He fumbled in his waist pouch for a miniature green juice-like energy ball and used it—Moxel shimmered with light, materializing into bandages, which he laboriously wrapped around his chest.
A folded beam shot over, and the phantom silhouette of the Wilderness Lord appeared at the other end.
{Shadow of Nether, I heard Jiazi Term popped up near Duplex Inn. Did you succeed?}
–Cough… barely missed. The moment I revealed myself… he instantly sensed me and made a countermove. That guy’s a sharp, alert master.–
The bandages’ medicinal power took effect gradually. Shadow of Nether felt fine threads of blood and flesh like spider silk weaving over his wounds, sealing them shut, and his pierced lung finally started to heave again—though his body grew even weaker.
{Really? Damn it, what a shame.}
The Wasteland Lord let out a continuous sigh of regret.
–Damn, it’s a real shame. If only you could touch people while invisible… Oh, you’re heavily injured too, need help?–
–No can do. Can’t move too fast either. Cough, cough… And over the span of sixty years, there’s this silver Lance that can appear in an instant. Terrifying. I almost died.–
Just as he finished speaking, the man’s hairs suddenly stood on end, and he vanished from his spot instantaneously.
Whizz!
A Lance trailing a red afterimage plummeted vertically from above, straight down from the sky.
With a bang, dust burst outward from the ground, exploding into a cloud.
At the same time, the Paleshade Wyrm, wreathed in a red afterimage, charged over, looking left and right in confusion—the figure that had been right here just a moment ago had vanished again.
A silent stillness lingered in the faint breeze.
After holding his breath for several seconds, the Wasteland Lord, watching all this from the other end of the Shadow Syn-Link, struggled to swallow, his throat bobbing nervously with great difficulty.
So this was the man who had annihilated his own Cargo Crew.
That single strike had utterly shattering all thoughts of revenge within him—not to mention the equally invisible train.
Now, only sheer terror remained.
The Shadow Syn was, in fact, the last Lord of the Cargo Crew, but their relationship was kept hidden under normal circumstances. This connection was instead used to trigger key assassination operations through underground commissions.
Ming Ying had avoided Lance’s attack just now simply because he had turned invisible, negating the damage.
{That Jiazi Term can actually do the same as you… and he even has that terrifying mental-energy worm. What a fearsome guy… Hey, you’re pretty banged up. Can you hold on?}
The Wasteland Lord had always believed Ming Ying was the legendary mental ability user Moxel, with a special ability to keep his mental-energy form invisible.
But now, that same evil nightmare creature—also a mental ability user—couldn’t even find him, making the Wasteland Lord think even higher of Ming Ying’s skill.
Even Jiazi Term can’t detect Ming Ying’s invisibility. Good, good.
This kind of stealth truly conceals him from every angle!
[But no matter what, if I were even a fraction of a second later, I’d be dead for sure.]
Ming Ying’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point; he didn’t dare so much as twitch a finger.
He looked at the small –black hole– spinning at the junction of the spear tip and shaft, his face grimly contorted. Jiazi Term was truly terrifying—anyone else would have been utterly skewered by that strike!
The wind carried the airflow, slicing through his body.
After waiting a minute or two, once his breath had steadied, Ming Ying held his breath and slowly retreated a few steps from the vanishing thought dragon. His eyes scanned left and right meticulously, not missing a single detail of the stirred sand or swaying grass, seeking any trace of subtle anomaly.
The desolate wilderness lay in complete silence.
One minute passed, two minutes passed…
Everything on the barren plains was shrouded in deep, dim light.
The silhouettes of a few low hills were indistinct; the wind rustling was the only sound here. It weaved between rocks and grains of sand, stroking the sparse, dry blades of grass, producing a faint, whispering rustle.
Five minutes passed, ten minutes passed…
An hour passed…
After a long while, the sky began to pale. A subtle ripple appeared in the desolate air, and a light breeze drifted toward a distant place.
It was only much later, when the temperature over the Shibin Wastes fully began to rise, that a faint, swift figure emerged mere hundreds of paces away, its outline barely visible.
The confrontation that had lasted through the entire night came to an end.
Only after making absolutely sure that Jiazi Term had truly stopped ambushing him did the far-scattered Ming Ying dare to reveal his true form again.
Feeling his body already starting to burn with fever, he lowered his head and looked at the bloodstained bindings on his chest.
–What a terrifying man. That strange weapon that can appear out of nowhere—he didn’t even use it in that massacre, yet he still annihilated Cargo Crew.–
A man like that shouldn’t have ended up in the Shibin Wastes. Shadow suddenly thought… could it be that he had also come here on a mission from Hubville?
But that’s an impossible mission.
Because anyone whose reputation skyrockets abnormally is scrutinized and watched warily there. Even if they get hired, they won’t be allowed near the critical parts.
Suddenly, Shadow sensed something and turned his head, then froze in shock.
A young man with faintly sandy tips of his hair stood nearby, looking a little embarrassed.
–Hello, Mr. Shadow. Boss Wild Wagon sent me to deliver a high-potency ability ball for rapid wound healing.–
Shadow had seen this person through the Syn-Link screen. He frowned.
–Alright. Stay right there. Don’t move.–
Lee Shangxiang innocently spread his hands to show he had no intention of moving. He was still quite far away—nearly ten meters.
–Didn’t I say I have medical bandages?–
The wounds made Shadow want to collapse and shut his eyes immediately. Thinking that the Wagon Lord had been keeping an eye on him, it wasn’t surprising that his subordinate had tracked him down. So the anxiety Shadow had just felt faded, and he let out a light sigh from deep in his chest.
–Still… you got here fast. Less than five hours have passed.–
–Yeah, it was tough rushing over here, but luckily, there were quite a few beast-drawn carriages heading to the inn.–
Lee Shangxiang tossed a sphere of ability over, then turned and walked a few steps away, gesturing with a –go ahead– motion.
Mingying waited for a moment before bending down to grab the sphere, a hint of puzzlement washing over him as he sensed the information it contained.
–Chronos transfer? What kind of healing ability is this?–
–It can shift your injuries to me. All the damage you’ve sustained, including your high fever, and—of course—all your excess Chronos. That’s sort of a side effect, so, uh, esteemed sir, you better temporarily invest your Chronos in someone else.–
Lee Shangxiang strode further away.
Mingying relaxed, and a silver-white Moxel ring emerged from his chest, shooting out a broken line.
[Ashin, hold my Chronos for me, and return it in a minute.]
{Okay.}
Reassured, Mingying crushed the ability sphere.
[Chronos transfer initiated.]
[Transfer target designated: Lee Shangxiang.]
[I am about to strip all Chronos utilization from my body.]
[All Chronos effects have been stripped from your body.]
The young man on the barren plains felt his muddled mind—clouded from staying up all night with a fever—start to clear up a bit, as if it had truly sobered up.
–Not bad at all.– He swayed slightly, a weak smile spreading across his face as he stared at his empty hands. –Shangxiang? Hey… where’d you go?–
He lifted his eyes and gazed around; the wilderness stretched out in desolation, without a single human silhouette in sight.
–Aqian.–
The ability that had long felt like an inseparable part of his body—an unyielding companion at every moment—now eerily offered no response.
–A… Aqian?–
After a few seconds, he lowered his head to gaze at his chest, which showed no signs of healing.
A moment of stunned realization struck the young man, and suddenly he felt a chill.
His entire body began to tremble violently.
Overcome with dread, he fell to his knees upon the gravel-strewn ground.
He tore open the front of his shirt, relentlessly ripping at the blood-stained bandages, clawing at the bloody skin of his chest, leaving deep gouges streaked with red from his nails.
Fresh blood began to seep out once more.
In his despair, he tried to scream, but couldn’t muster the strength to utter a single word. Instead, the wind across the plain swallowed the silent air into his lungs, softly stuffing every ounce of terror and unwillingness back into his chest—stifling, suffocating.
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