Chapter Seventy-Seven: Distortion

The setting sun cast its crimson glow over the temporarily peaceful small town. As dusk settled, wisps of smoke rose slowly from the chimneys of the wooden cottages, and across the town, women’s songs drifted through the air, praising another day spent in tranquility.

Not far from the Vulture’s fortress, within the cracks between adjoining cabins, a woman with blue eyes, clad in a white robe and her face veiled with gauze, slowly turned sideways. Her graceful figure, bathed in the bloody glow of the sunset, appeared elegant yet resilient.

Her gaze followed Chen Cao and Bao Li as they entered the stone fortress. “So they left just like that, not even saying goodbye!”

In the faint light of approaching night, she held a dark, rectangular object between her slender fingers.

It was a piece of chocolate.

…

Inside the stone fortress, as the heavy iron door closed with a creak, darkness enveloped the room.

With a hiss, the Vulture struck a match and lit an oil lamp. The sudden illumination, though dim, made Chen Cao involuntarily blink.

It was a parlor, sparsely furnished with a few crude wooden pieces. The wall paintings were damaged; some figures had faded, their eerie appearance accentuated by the flickering light.

Giant Bear, Xiao Li, and Guo Qianshuang waited in the shadows.

The Vulture’s oily face glistened in the lamplight, but his expression was far from comical. He nodded at Chen Cao, then walked to a wall at the far end, pressing a button hidden in one of the paintings. With a rumbling sound, a stone block at their feet slowly shifted, revealing a meter-wide entrance.

Lifting the oil lamp, the Vulture cast a deep look at Chen Cao, then turned to Guo Qianshuang. “Everyone’s here. Time to go.”

Guo Qianshuang nodded and led the way into the tunnel.

Next came Giant Bear, carrying Chen Diwen’s head, followed by Xiao Li and Bao Li.

As Chen Cao reached the opening, he turned back to the Vulture. “We’ve been exposed. Staying here is too dangerous for you.”

The Vulture smiled faintly. “Of course. I prepared for this during your absence. I’m leaving with you.”

Chen Cao said no more and entered the tunnel.

The Vulture was the last to enter. He glanced at the fortress where he had hidden for thousands of days and nights, dropped the oil lamp, and stepped inside.

With a roar, the oil spread on the floor caught fire, flames rapidly engulfing the entire room.

…

As the helicopter’s rotors still whipped up gusts, the hatch opened. After more than a month of desert combat, the long-missed scent of green grass rushed into their lungs.

Chen Cao took a deep breath, shielding his eyes, and dashed out of the rotor’s downdraft with the others.

As soon as he caught his footing, Chen Cao saw Qiu Yu standing nearby with a row of soldiers.

Looking at these familiar faces, the scar on Qiu Yu’s face seemed less unsightly, and a trace of warmth unexpectedly surged in Chen Cao’s heart.

Yet, as they lined up to salute Vice Principal Qiu Yu, they realized the armed guards behind him had their gun barrels trained on them.

The centipede-like scar on Qiu Yu’s face twitched as he spoke in a low voice, “Drop your weapons!”

“What’s the meaning of this?” Giant Bear demanded, stepping forward.

Bang! A bullet struck the ground at his feet, splattering wet earth onto his trousers. Though startled, Giant Bear was undeterred. He angrily handed Chen Diwen’s head to Xiao Li, rolled up his sleeves, and drew his machete from his belt.

“Giant Bear, assess the situation first!” Chen Cao pulled him back, then turned calmly to Qiu Yu. “I want to know why.”

Qiu Yu’s expression remained gloomy. “I said, drop your weapons, or we’ll open fire.”

“This is outrageous!” Still reeling from Chen Diwen’s sacrifice, everyone was indignant at such treatment after barely surviving.

As tempers flared, Giant Bear broke free of Chen Cao’s grip and charged forward, shouting, “This is unfair! Why treat us like this?”

A gunshot cracked. The bullet struck Giant Bear in the chest. A second, then a third shot rang out as Qiu Yu’s soldiers fired without hesitation.

Giant Bear clutched his chest and collapsed heavily.

“Giant Bear!” Zhou Hongye, Bao Li, and Xiao Li shouted together. Chen Cao, seeing Giant Bear shot, could bear it no longer and tried to step forward—only to feel the cold muzzle pressed against the back of his head.

“Don’t move, Chen Cao. I know your abilities, but don’t forget—however fast you are, you’re not faster than my trigger finger. And if you value your teammates’ lives…” Guo Qianshuang said coolly, gun in hand.

“Guo Instructor, you…” Chen Cao steadied himself, scanning the area. Suddenly, he understood. Surrounded by vast mountains, this grassy patch was clearly just a makeshift helipad—something he’d been too careless to notice before.

Qiu Yu’s tone was flat. “When I say drop your weapons, you’d better understand what that means.”

Click, click! The soldiers at Qiu Yu’s side chambered their rounds, aiming squarely at Chen Cao and his companions.

Chen Cao’s expression grew darker. He knew that, however quick he was, Guo Qianshuang would shoot him first, and there was no way to dodge the hail of bullets.

So, Chen Cao dropped his bundle and raised his hands.

Behind him, Guo Qianshuang prodded the back of his head with the gun and sneered, “Chen Cao, you’re dangerous. Don’t move, or you’ll join Chen Diwen in hell—and so will your friends.”

A chill ran through Chen Cao. Though still unclear about the situation, Guo Qianshuang’s words made him uneasy. He kept his hands up. “Don’t worry, I won’t act rashly. But you must save Giant Bear!”

“Of course. Otherwise, how could we bring you to a military tribunal?” Guo Qianshuang laughed. “Now, have your teammates surrender their weapons too.”

“Lay down your arms. I believe the school owes us an explanation,” Chen Cao told his comrades. Just as he finished speaking, he felt a heavy blow to the back of his head. In a haze, he collapsed onto the damp grass. Bao Li and Xiao Li shouted his name as everything faded.

…

“I must stay awake. I must survive!” In the depths of his mind, Chen Cao shook his head and forced open his eyes, only to find himself surrounded by darkness.

Was his vision gone from that blow to the head? Chen Cao anxiously patted his forehead and looked around. Tiny sparks danced before his eyes.

“Thank goodness, I’m not blind,” he sighed with relief, willing his eyes to adapt to the darkness.

Water dripped in the pitch black. He reached out—he couldn’t see his own hand. Trying to sit up, he banged his head against the low ceiling.

“Ouch… What is this…” The cramped space reminded him of a confinement cell. He reached out both arms; he could barely stretch them.

Was this really necessary? Where was Duan Tianya? Why didn’t the helicopter fly directly to the academy? In the dark, Chen Cao’s thoughts raced. Could Guo Qianshuang and Qiu Yu be traitors?

The door creaked. A shaft of light pierced the tiny room, but all Chen Cao could see were the feet of his visitor.

The indignity of it all—being treated like a dog—filled him with anger.

Outside, voices spoke.

“Reporting, sir. All is quiet.”

“Good. Go outside and stay alert. He’s a dangerous, highly trained individual,” a second voice replied.

“Yes, sir,” came the respectful answer.

“Leave us.”

“Yes, sir,” the response was crisp.

The door closed with a creak. Darkness flooded back, but Chen Cao remained silent, listening. He knew that crying out would do nothing.

After a long silence, he heard the visitor’s clothes rustle as he squatted down.

Chen Cao held his breath and waited, searching for an opportunity.

In the dark, the man spoke. “Chen Cao, fate has brought us together here. What a coincidence.”

Chen Cao’s voice was cold. “Who are you?”

“I’m like you,” the man replied, “but our training was different. The current batch of cadet instructors are far too soft.”

Chen Cao’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his tone steady. “Are you a traitor to the academy?”

The man chuckled. “I’m merely a graduate. I wouldn’t call myself a traitor.”

“Hmph,” Chen Cao snorted. “So you were a big shot at the academy. Otherwise, why would an elite instructor like Qiu Yu follow you into betrayal?”

Hearing Chen Cao repeat the words ‘traitor’ and ‘betrayal’—terms detested by all soldiers—the man took no offense. Instead, he spoke with a gentle patience. “The Great Chen Republic has seen no war in over twenty years. It’s too peaceful. Those so-called special forces are a joke. I must change that. And you, Chen Cao, are like me. But look at what Duan Tianya has made of you—one battle, and your entire unit is nearly wiped out. You must become stronger, and only with my help can you become the ultimate warrior!”

Flame King 77—End of Chapter Seventy-Seven.