The two formations charged forward to engage.
In under two minutes, the two Great Spikes, already on the brink of death, fulfilled their mission, collapsing swiftly at the feet of Boss Dao's Gang to begin their self-destruction.
Life had never been so easy... Boss Dao's Gang's first wild drop hunt was thus officially declared a success.
Only, the way they succeeded was a bit too bizarre. While their own members felt thoroughly bewildered, the rival gangs farther across the field were just as dumbfounded.
"What did they just shout?"
"'Boss Dao has manifested.'"
"What does 'manifested' mean?"
"When gods or ghosts show up to do work."
"Bullshit."
Meanwhile, some naturally remained calm and focused. In the Storm Bloodbattle Gang, their leader, Storm, stepped up his attacks while shouting a warning:
"Don't look! Ignore them! Take this chance to finish our fight quickly, and then—
"Fuck! Motherfucker!"
One major fruit of decades of cultural blending in the City of Iniquity was that practically every foreigner here knew this Huaxian curse and all its variations.
His gang had just surrounded the two Great Spikes from another shuttle-shaped craft and was preparing to finish the battle... when the Great Spikes ran. They suddenly fled too, making that same bizarre choice to sprint out of the battle circle.
And outside the circle stood only one gang.
Filio: "..."
They had just shifted positions again, so the Great Spikes were charging right at him once more, dragging their battered bodies and sprinting desperately his way, as if determined to die in his embrace.
"Boss Dao has manifested again!"
"Charge, brothers!" He Tangtang shouted at the top of his lungs.
Both formations swung their blades in a frenzy. Whether Huaxian or foreign, Black or white, all of them roared in unison, "Boss Dao has manifested!" as they surged past Filio.
...It was over. Just like that, amid cries of "Boss Dao has manifested," the battle ended once more.
In the darkness, the two shuttle-shaped craft unleashed a spectacular shower of fragments. People threw themselves to the ground to take cover, staring blankly... The sole rule governing the contest for wild ships was upheld.
Under stares of hatred, confusion, and utter bewilderment, Filio felt as though needles were prickling his back. Still, he led his men forward with flashlights, scouring the desert sand bit by bit to collect their spoils.
Among them, Ah Jing and Little Chicken recovered the two metal blocks.
The blocks seemed a bit small this time, but that didn't matter. It was already a massive victory, Filio thought.
More craft would probably come down in the second half of the night. According to the traditional reckoning of the City of Iniquity, today was a "spring tide day."
"No more hunting. We have enough. We're heading back," Filio said, his eyes faintly apologetic. Frankly, he didn't even know if what they'd done could be called hunting.
On the surface, he was speaking to his own men, but he deliberately raised his voice so the line of gang leaders could hear.
They were all watching him with complicated gazes.
And so, carrying their spoils all the way back into the City of Iniquity, Filio finally let out a sigh of relief. They had actually pulled it off. In their very first outing, they had brought back the spoils of two craft.
No one had ambushed them. People had spied on them along the way, but no one attacked... Perhaps they, too, feared that Boss Dao would suddenly manifest.
Filio abruptly felt all strength leave his limbs. Even though he hadn't swung a blade once, the mental toll had been immense... Squatting on the ground, he wept silently.
...
Two weeks later, on a neap tide day.
By now, Boss Dao's surgical incision had healed, and he was able to get out of bed and walk around, though he still couldn't join in combat.
Perhaps because Boss Dao was now seen as far too eerie, everyone treated him with immense respect while being reluctant to interact with or disturb him.
Thus, Filio remained the one leading the team.
At ten o'clock at night, beneath the darkness a hundred and ten kilometers southwest of the city, Filio sat hugging his knees atop an earthen mound in the desert, lost in thought.
Lately, he frequently found himself helpless against one nagging question: Did the Great Spikes have some special fascination with him?!
Around the base of the mound, more than a dozen gang leaders stood looking up at him.
"Let's head over together," Gu Zhazha finally spoke up with earnest eyes, seeing the black speck of a shuttle craft appear in the distant sky.
Filio turned to look at him, pondered for a moment, and shook his head. "We'd better just watch from here."
"...Watch my ass!" Gang Leader Storm cursed inwardly. Two weeks had passed, and across five wild drop hunts, every single one had seen that same bizarre situation play out without exception.
The words "Boss Dao has manifested" had now become a nightmare for all the bosses.
It was also precisely because of this phrase that they had been forced to abandon their plan to gang up and wipe out Boss Dao's Gang first—they had never caught sight of Dao Dali, and that was the most terrifying part.
"You really should come along with us," another boss, a woman, invited sweetly.
Filio: "No, thanks. We lack experience and worry things might go wrong in a chaotic melee."
"Just come. If your gang doesn't go, none of us have any peace of mind. We're all terrified that midway through chopping away, the target will disappear again..." Old Hugh spoke the honest truth. He was Huaxian as well, and while he wasn't particularly close to Boss Dao, his relationship was at least somewhat closer than the others'.
Turning his eyes away from Filio, Old Hugh swept his gaze around the darkness in all directions, then suddenly shouted, "Dao Dali, come out! Come out!"
Old Hugh had thrown caution to the wind.
Yet there was no response from the desert.
"What the hell is this?!" Limply wiping his eye, Old Hugh's voice softened. "You can't play like this, man. Dao Dali, if you're really that badass, come out, and I'll work under you from now on."
The desert remained completely silent.
Boom-crack! The shuttle-shaped craft hit the ground.
No one moved; everyone stayed standing. The shuttle craft that usually sparked heated scrambles was left unattended roughly seven or eight hundred meters away on the ground, completely ignored.
"Aren't you going?" Filio asked.
Everyone looked at him, but no one answered.
"Then we dare not go even more," Filio said.
The bosses: "..."
"If none of us go, won't those Great Spikes belong to the major factions once they run out of this zone?" Filio asked earnestly, then explained, "We lack experience, so we truly don't know much."
He was right; such were the rules of the City of Iniquity... The bosses present hastily exchanged glances. Filio could afford not to be in a rush, but they couldn't—their recent hauls had been abysmal.
"How about this: each of our gangs takes a position and forms a semicircle to close in... We'll block them behind us, and whoever the Great Spikes charge toward gets to claim them," Anilo suggested. "Let's all cooperate, or we really won't have food on our plates."
The bosses thought it over and agreed. They had no other choice.
A battle perimeter quickly formed. Gangs lined up into a semicircle, blocking Boss Dao's Gang behind them, and slowly moved toward the shuttle craft.
The encirclement grew steadily tighter.
Han Qingyu and Wen Jifei exchanged glances. If these dozen or so gangs could truly be this united, their "manifestation" tactic would really be broken.
Up ahead, whoosh! The Great Spikes completed their ejection.
Crack! Next came the sound of a dead iron war blade being snapped in two.
Frantic screams erupted.
"Run!"
"Blue-sheened, three blue-sheened Great Spikes! Run!"
In truth, if these gangs truly united, cooperated, and fought with their lives on the line, they stood a chance of slaying three blue-sheened Great Spikes. But they couldn't do it. Longstanding rivalry and mutual bloodshed meant no one trusted anyone else, and everyone wished for the others to die.
The battle line instantly burst outward and shattered.
Beneath the night sky, every formation collapsed. People were dying, fleeing. In this moment, they looked so frail and helpless...
"Boss Dao, please manifest!" amid the darkness, someone cried out first with desperation and pleading.
In any case, it certainly wasn't one of their own.
Then, all across the field, voices with every sort of accent rose in quick succession:
"Boss Dao, please manifest!"
"We beg Boss Dao to manifest!"
Chapter 459