Chapter 6: The Hunter

Just now, when Zheng Tian and her companions passed by, the sensors on their hover car indicated the presence of a severely weakened Level One Ruin Beast nearby.

Adhering to the principle that one should never pass up a bargain, the group made a slight detour of a few hundred meters to investigate.

And so, they were confronted with the scene before them.

A strange man, unarmed and exuding an air of utter frailty, sat with his legs crossed as if he’d already anticipated their arrival, waiting for them.

Even more unnerving, he casually called out Zheng Tian’s name.

Zheng Tian was no more than the leader of a scavenger team in Spark Town, hardly a person whose name would be widely known.

The stranger was clearly not from the town—there was no reason he would have heard of Zheng Tian.

All these oddities added to the man’s enigmatic and inscrutable aura.

“How I know you isn’t important.”

Seeing his little ruse had succeeded in unsettling them, Ren Zhong quietly breathed a sigh of relief. “My name is Ren Zhong. I have urgent business in Spark Town, but I encountered some mishaps along the way and am now unable to defend myself. I’d like to offer you the corpse of this Crystalwing Dragonfly as payment for escorting me to Spark Town. Would that be acceptable?”

Zheng Tian’s eyes shifted. “A chance encounter is fate enough. We can take you to town—no need for payment. Time is short. Hanyu, please help Brother Ren extract the crystal chip.”

Ren Zhong: “Thank you.”

Zheng Tian: “Don’t mention it.”

Two and a half minutes later, the tall woman removed the chip and glanced at Ren Zhong for confirmation.

Ren Zhong shook his head. “I don’t have a box with me. Would you mind holding onto it for me?”

With Zheng Tian’s eager assistance, Ren Zhong climbed out of the ravine.

A van nearly ten meters long sat ahead, resting on the ground.

It had no wheels, looking more like a shipping container than a truck.

In the distance, the blue sun was about to set.

The armored giant hefted the Crystalwing Dragonfly’s corpse with one hand, opened the rear cargo door, and tossed the body inside.

Ren Zhong glanced around, noting several other animal corpses piled within, though “animals” was a loose term—at least half of each body’s tissue gleamed with metallic sheen.

Ren Zhong now understood what these things were—collectively known as Ruin Beasts.

At the front of the truck were two rows of seats. Zheng Tian took the driver’s seat.

The burly man settled into the spacious front passenger seat.

The back row was meant for three: the long-armed man, the baseball cap, and the tall woman. With Ren Zhong added, it was a tight fit.

The tall woman sat by the window on the far left, Ren Zhong to her right.

Their proximity meant unavoidable jostling and brushes of limbs.

There was simply no helping it.

Fortunately, the taciturn woman was magnanimous and didn’t seem to mind. Or perhaps she was simply insensitive to such contact—if anything, it was Ren Zhong who felt a touch self-conscious, though he concealed it well.

After witnessing this group’s cold-blooded efficiency, Ren Zhong didn’t believe he was truly safe.

He was convinced all the friendliness they showed was a thin veneer, each person hiding a predatory mask beneath.

Thus, his every move was an act, maintaining the persona of someone not to be trifled with.

As long as they didn’t see through him, they wouldn’t harm him.

To Ren Zhong’s right was the sharp-faced, narrow-eyed man in the baseball cap who had earlier sentenced him to death.

The long-armed man sat by the window on the far right.

The air inside the vehicle was thick with a pungent odor—whether it was engine oil or burnt wiring, Ren Zhong couldn’t tell.

The dashboard upfront was a clutter of haphazardly arranged instruments.

From the cracks in the dash, stray metallic wires would occasionally poke out mischievously.

Zheng Tian placed her palm on a plastic panel the size of a mousepad. A soft glow emanated from beneath.

An electronic voice chimed, “Authentication successful.”

Zheng Tian whistled. “All right, time to head home.”

The vehicle lurched skyward, finally hovering two meters above the ground, accelerating forward with increasing speed.

Throughout this process, a cacophony of clanking and rattling noises rose from beneath the car, giving the impression it might fall apart at any moment.

Zheng Tian glanced back at Ren Zhong, who looked a little dazed from the ride, and offered an awkward smile. “Sorry, our Turtle-class hover car is a junkyard patchwork job that Wen Lei salvaged. Everything rattles except the horn.”

Ren Zhong waved it off considerately. “It’s no trouble at all.”

Wen Lei grumbled, “Having a vehicle at all is a blessing. Didn’t cost us a thing, and you’re still picky? Next time it breaks, I’m not fixing it.”

Zheng Tian: “My mistake, my mistake!”

After they’d been on the road a few minutes, Zheng Tian made conversation with Ren Zhong as she drove.

She seemed to be probing—where was he from, how did he know her name, and what business did he have in Spark Town?

Ren Zhong, of course, could answer none of it. He deflected with vague laughter and hints of an undisclosed background—enough to muddle through.

Zheng Tian, however, spun her own theories.

Ren Zhong was clearly incapable of fighting, that much was obvious.

In this world, an unskilled wildlander would rarely have dealings with townsfolk.

That ruled out Ren Zhong being a wildlander.

But if he were from another town, that didn’t make sense either—ordinary townsfolk wouldn’t bother learning the names of people from elsewhere.

If she were a big shot in Spark Town, perhaps, but she wasn’t.

Her name was trivial information—no one kept such useless details in mind.

Thus, there was only one explanation: Ren Zhong, powerless as he appeared, might hail from some major organization, secretly investigating Spark Town to the extent that even minor figures like herself were on his radar.

He must be plotting something.

Whether his scheme boded well or ill for the town was impossible to say.

But what did that matter?

As Zheng Tian pondered, the sharp-faced, narrow-eyed man—whom Ren Zhong had mentally listed as a threat—nudged Ren Zhong’s side with his elbow and spoke enthusiastically, “By the way, Brother Ren, let me give you a heads-up.”

“What is it?”

“You’re not wearing a wristband. If we run into a patrolling Hunter, you’ll need to trade the chip from that Crystalwing Dragonfly for a temporary wristband, all right?”

Ren Zhong’s mind raced, and he feigned familiarity. “Of course, no problem. And you are?”

“I’m Ou Youning.”

Ren Zhong: “Ah, got it—hello, hello! Very pleased to meet you. Yes!”

After a few more minutes, Ren Zhong learned the others’ names.

The tall woman was Chen Hanyu, the long-armed man was Bai Feng, and the armored hulk was Wen Lei.

Thus, both parties established a basic acquaintance.

Ten minutes later, Zheng Tian glanced at the simple electronic map on the dash, grinning. “We’re about to pass through the Hunters’ primary patrol zone. Maybe Brother Ren will get to keep his Level One chip today—damn, here we go.”

Some things really are best left unsaid.

No sooner had Zheng Tian spoken than she tensed and slammed the brakes.

As the vehicle decelerated, its nose dipped and altitude dropped—the front half buried itself in the dirt.

Bang! Straight into the ground.

Ren Zhong lurched forward, his forehead striking the faux leather headrest of the driver’s seat, then rebounded and landed in Chen Hanyu’s lap.

He didn’t scramble away, nor did he pay attention to the firm resilience against his back. Instead, his gaze was locked on the windshield.

In that instant, his feet trembled, his hair stood on end, and his mind nearly shut down.

A bullet-shaped drone hovered silently ahead, its black barrel—no larger than a palm—aimed squarely at Ren Zhong, a specter of death.

Ren Zhong’s nerves were usually steady, but after being shot through the chest and skull multiple times before, the trauma ran too deep.

He didn’t doubt the lethality of this thing—even separated by the truck’s windshield, he felt no sense of safety, as if death awaited him in the next instant.

Gulp.

Ren Zhong swallowed, wanting to speak, but his mouth was dry, his throat refusing to obey.

“Get up, I need to get out.”

At that moment, Chen Hanyu’s cool voice sounded behind him.

Ren Zhong, his mind barely functioning, instinctively shifted up.

Chen Hanyu opened the door, slipped out from beneath him, jumped down, and strode briskly toward the drone known as the Hunter.

Ren Zhong looked forward, then at the open door.

Night was falling, the light fading, and even the breeze from outside seemed chillier.

He could barely resist the urge to shut the door.

But he didn’t.

Not out of concern for Chen Hanyu, but because he dared not make any sudden moves.

Ahead, Chen Hanyu took off her backpack, donned blue gloves, retrieved the compartmentalized box, and took out Ren Zhong’s chip, offering it to the Hunter.

Two snake-like mechanical arms extended from beneath the drone.

Ren Zhong’s pupils contracted again—he half-imagined Chen Hanyu’s head being severed.

But nothing happened.

One arm took the chip from her; the other handed something over.

Then, the terrifying enforcer spun around and vanished in the blink of an eye.

Chen Hanyu returned to the truck. “Move in a bit—I can’t get back up.”

“Oh—right.” Ren Zhong took from her hands a crudely made, wristband-shaped “temporary wristband” and carefully put it on.

Only then did he realize a cold sweat drenched his back.

Unconsciously, he’d soaked his clothes.

He rubbed the wristband as if stroking a priceless treasure.

He’d just scraped by with his life.