Chapter 115: Time to Slip Away

Grey Zone, Xinghe Hotel.

Zhang Lingfei took cautious, measured steps, whispering to herself as she reached for the door handle. She pushed the door open just a few inches and slid a mirror inside.

Clear.

She pushed the door wider, gripping her gun with alert eyes as she peered out. The hallway remained dim, but Zhang Lingfei knew dawn had already broken outside.

She clicked on her flashlight and scanned the surroundings; the wavering beam cast long, uncanny shadows of tables and chairs against the walls.

"Scared the life out of me..."

Zhang Lingfei pulled a sedative from the pocket of her tactical gear and, with a trembling hand, injected it into her arm, forcing herself to shake off the paralyzing fear.

Clutching her gun to her chest, she left the flashlight on the floor to serve as a light source for the level, then took out another one and started up the stairs.

Grey Zone, Third TV Tower, top floor.

This location was the furthest from the guard station, requiring a trek through several densely populated shanty towns.

Because of this, Centipede, Fu Ting, and Liu Fangjian traveled together.

"It’s almost 7:30. Move it."

"Alright, alright, hooking it up now."

Centipede dropped a heavy backpack, the impact sending dust cascading from the walls.

"Be careful," Fu Ting reminded him. "That’s a nuke in there."

"If a nuke could be detonated like this, it’d be called a firecracker, not a nuke."

Fu Ting ignored him and turned to look out the window.

Dust drifted chaotically through the air. Below lay the city, the buildings of the Grey Zone appearing hazy due to the difference in elevation.

"Tell me, what do you think it feels like to personally bomb South Harbor with a nuke..."

Fu Ting’s synthesized voice was devoid of emotion. He squinted, staring downward.

The area enclosed by several shanty towns was a barren wasteland; before the New City was established, it had been a mining site. Over the past eight years, the city had drawn a line in the sand against this treacherous place, leaving behind only a few ruins, mine shafts leading underground, and a dilapidated fence that the municipal staff couldn't even be bothered to tear down.

The Gifted had built their homes as far away as possible, on the other side of the city. The low profile of the Emerald Wall was now nothing more than a blurred silhouette in the pale blue morning mist.

Beyond that, nothing could be seen clearly.

Fu Ting was actually older than Centipede; he had witnessed the birth of the New City, from nothing to its current state, piece by piece.

And now, they were personally destroying it.

"Why so sentimental? It’s not like we’re destroying the whole thing. A few nukes like this will, at most, wipe out a fifth of the Emerald District."

Centipede replied impatiently.

While the two talked, Liu Fangjian was kneeling beside a clean table, making preparations with calm, meticulous focus. He knew he had plenty of time.

Deploying a few low-yield tactical nukes took only ten minutes.

He took a lockbox from his backpack and placed it on the table. Once opened, the box revealed three compartments lined with synthetic foam, housing the nuclear warheads, launch mechanisms, and timers, respectively.

"How do you operate this thing?" Centipede asked.

"Mount it on the launch mechanism, then set the timer," Liu Fangjian replied concisely, lifting the warhead with both hands.

"It looks bigger than the launcher."

Liu Fangjian pried open the casing of the warhead and gestured for Centipede to look: "The five silver components inside are the actual payload."

He carefully extracted the real warheads from the shell—five beautiful objects, each about 20 centimeters long and weighing 13 kilograms.

The lower half was wrapped in thick, rectangular velvet, with metal buckles strapped over it.

The craftsmanship was exquisite, like an artifact, with glowing phosphorescent paint covering the surface in numbers and symbols.

"The explosive yield for each is about 100 kilotons. The shockwave kill radius is 1.3 kilometers, the thermal radiation range is 2.1 kilometers, and the primary nuclear fallout radius is about 2 kilometers," Liu Fangjian explained, referring to the manual.

The explosive yield here referred to the weight of TNT required to release the same amount of energy as the impending nuclear blast.

Centipede asked, "So, you're saying everything within 2 kilometers of the impact point is a dead zone, right?"

"Exactly. We have five tactical nukes here, and with the other two launch sites, that makes fifteen total—enough to cover a massive area."

"Start aiming. Use the targeting system built into the launchers."

"The timer has a maximum delay of thirty minutes. That's perfect."

"Hurry up!"

Emerald District, a private residence of one of the Gifted.

Ji Cheng cleaved open the manor gates with a blast of compressed air.

Unlike the sentinel base where he lived, most of the Gifted's residences weren't heavily fortified. After all, from a comfort perspective, the tighter the security, the worse the livability. Consequently, after the Emerald Wall was built, many of these mansions had effectively become undefended.

He walked slowly along a gravel path toward the interior.

The path passed a decorative fountain, where piles of fallen leaves had already accumulated over the past few days. At the center of the fountain stood an abstract python statue, perched on a finely carved white stone base, its fish-like tail curled high into the air. Behind the fountain were azalea bushes; not long ago, they must have formed a neat flowerbed.

Ji Cheng collapsed onto the ground, leaning against the fountain's stone base, his face pale.

"That went sideways. Didn't expect Old Yao to be that strong," Ji Cheng muttered, his right arm dangling limply, still shaken. "Might have a fracture... lucky I slipped away fast, or I’d have been done for."

Yao Lun's previous attack had first pushed through his 'Remorse' air-blade, nearly shattering Ji Cheng's right arm, and then followed up with a vicious strike of electric arcs from his withered vines.

"At least 150,000 kilograms of force. Barely escaped being pulverized there."

Ever since Yao Lun unleashed his true power, Ji Cheng had no room to counterattack; he was completely suppressed. Yao Lun’s explosive power and stamina were both a cut above his own.

His only remaining advantages were speed and agility.

But the real problem was that the guy had a turtle shell of a shield; even on the rare occasion he found an opening to strike back, it was blocked by that energy barrier.

And then there were those terrifying withered branches growing from his fingers.

This was the most stifling and dangerous fight Ji Cheng had ever been in.

"I really don't get what plant his gene-source is. It’s not just corrosive; it actually carries a charge."

"It’s too bizarre... I can't break his shell on offense, and I can't withstand his elemental attacks on defense."

He gently flexed his shoulder, discovering he could finally exert some pressure.

"Whatever. The nukes should be launching soon. I’ll head into the underground safe room and hide for a bit."

Ji Cheng steadied himself against the stone base, stood up, and ducked into a long corridor lined with tapestries, heading into the house.

"Old Yao is out there digging three feet into the earth to find me, while I'm comfortably tucked away in a safe room."

Well, he thought, at least he’d managed to score one point. The thought brought him a sense of satisfaction.

Enjoy the blast, you old bastard.

...

"Damn it, where did he go?" Yao Lun, in the midst of his pursuit, came to an abrupt halt, stepping onto a craggy, moss-covered rockery.

"Slippery as an eel, lost him again!"

Yao Lun caught his breath slightly but did not lower his arms; he kept his grip on his mechanical suit.

"Too many obstacles. Without a lock, it's too hard to catch him once he slips away."

He scanned the surroundings. Through the smoke and dust, the morning sun illuminated the area, but his line of sight could barely reach a hundred meters.

The Emerald District was a residential area for the Gifted and their families, filled with greenery. There were no commercial streets, nor any factories or buildings that would affect air quality or create noise.

In terms of design, it had been built entirely in the style of imperial gardens; beyond the ornately decorated houses and exquisite flowerbeds, there were only artificial canals, rockeries, and vast swathes of green forest.

It was these lush trees that obscured his vision.

"Is it really going to end like this?"