Surprise Attack

Haverford's words appeared to be an explanation, but beneath the surface, they carried unmistakable provocation. In an even tone, Chen Chuan said, "If you've said your piece and have nothing else, then please stop tailing my convoy, Mr. Haverford. I have already warned you. If you continue following, you will bear the consequences." "Wait a moment." Seeing him turn to leave, Haverford took two steps forward. "I came here purely as a fighter." He shrugged. "If you are a true fighter, Supervisor Chen, you surely understand my urgency." Chen Chuan stopped in his tracks, turning his head slightly as he replied, "Excuse me, but while I don't object to sparring with other fighters, it depends on the timing and who is asking. First, I thoroughly dislike your lack of courtesy. Second, given your current strength and status, Haverford, you aren't qualified to spar with me." With that, he walked straight back toward his car. Haverford wanted to say more, but the instant he stepped forward, the armed escorts in the convoy trained their muzzles squarely on him. Judging by their postures, they couldn't care less whether he was part of a diplomatic delegation—if he dared advance another inch, they would open fire on the spot. "All right, all right." Haverford raised his hands. Even with his arms in the air, his expression remained relaxed; firearms didn't frighten him. Still, he had no intention of forcing the issue. This was their turf. Even if he overpowered everyone in front of him, he wouldn't be able to handle the endless wave of armed reinforcements that would follow. He backed away several paces. Seeing Chen Chuan about to step into the vehicle, he called out loudly, "Supervisor Chen, I am willing to offer information that will satisfy you—information that will satisfy your Disposal Bureau. I believe we can establish a friendly relationship. Perhaps this will change your mind." As he spoke, he gestured, drew an envelope from his breast pocket, gave it a brief wave, and then flicked his wrist, sending it sailing toward Chen Chuan. Chen Chuan signaled the men on either side to hold their fire and caught the envelope. Feeling it, he found no documents or the like inside, likely just a few photographs. He drew them out slightly, slipped them back in, and continued walking, getting back into his vehicle. As for the man's request, he had promised nothing; the item had been given freely. Haverford watched with regret as the convoy started up again. Returning to his own vehicle, he spoke into a specialized boundary credential, "Report: the Mountain Eagle has lost his yellow goat." Inside the Linax Federation's temporary legation compound, a middle-aged man was communicating with him across a covert frequency set up for the mission. The Federation's diplomatic delegation had designs on relics and was already preparing to enter the Melded Lands. Prior to that, they were initiating exchanges and probes against capable fighters aligned with the Jibei Dao Center City government. Chen Chuan had been ranked relatively low on their list of targets to probe, as an administrator seemed unlikely to enter the Melded Lands like front-line combatants. Even so, with the excuse of an academy exchange at hand, they weren't about to pass up an opportunity. For now, however, it seemed unsuccessful. Yet a single failure wouldn't deter them, so the man replied, "Wild Bull copies. Mountain Eagle is instructed to seek the next opportunity." Haverford replied, "Mountain Eagle is a bit tired today. He wants to go have a drink." The other end joked, "Did Mountain Eagle fly too far last night?" "Hey, don't underestimate Mountain Eagle. He can easily fly all day long." Even as he spoke, his peripheral vision caught something. A figure was charging toward the side of the car at terrifying speed. When Haverford first spotted him, the man seemed hundreds of meters away, yet within an instant he was right beside the vehicle, delivering a kick straight into the door. Haverford's pupils contracted. *Boom!* Though he too was riding in an armored vehicle, its entire midsection caved inward under the impact. His reflexes were extraordinarily fast; throwing himself backward, he leaped out through the open window. Even through such a narrow window, he managed to scramble out. Yet right at that moment, an immense force shoved the crumpled chassis sideways across the ground. Tires shrieked against the asphalt with an ear-splitting, nerve-fraying screech, causing the lower half of his body—which should have cleared the vehicle completely—to remain trapped inside. Just then, the attacker pressed down with one hand. The already warped roof was crushed further downward, squashing the window shut and pinning Haverford's lower legs tight. Sensing danger, Haverford twisted his waist frantically, trying to wrench open the deformed window holding his legs. He only needed a fraction of a second. But in that exact breath, the attacker leveraged the downward push on the roof to launch himself forward like a pouncing cheetah, driving a fist straight toward Haverford's head. Seeing the wall of compressed air breaking around that fist, Haverford's expression morphed in terror. He crossed both arms in front of his face to block. The punch crashed into his arms first, twisting and snapping the bones, before driving inexorably forward, carrying momentum that felt barely diminished as it smashed straight into his jaw. A thunderous blast echoed through the air. Half of Haverford's face caved in completely. His skull molded to the fist like soft dough, a spray of shattered teeth bursting out alongside blood and saliva. Yet the force behind the strike didn't end there; it dragged his head relentlessly along with it. A string of groaning crunches erupted from inside his torso, like braided bundles of reinforced rebar being violently ripped apart. The bones, muscles, tendons, and blood vessels inside Haverford's body were stretched taut and torn to shreds. By the time the punch spent its force, his entire frame had been elongated like pulled dough, extending more than half again its original length. His narrow, warped skull was unrecognizable, with only a long, lolling tongue dangling onto the pavement. Even then, thanks to the robust vitality of a third limit fighter, breath still lingered in him. An eyeball nearly popping out of its socket stared at the assailant, struggling to discern the man's face. The attacker stood atop the roof of the car, pulling back the fist he had delivered, looking down at him. The afternoon sun beat down harshly, outlining a powerfully built physique whose sinews and muscles brimmed with explosive power. Straightening up, he turned his gaze toward Chen Chuan's convoy. Chen Chuan sat in the back seat. The moment the ambush occurred, he had sensed it and witnessed the entire encounter. Although he felt nothing over Haverford's death, the man was, after all, foreign diplomatic personnel he had just been speaking with; he couldn't simply pretend nothing had happened. Moreover, considering the intruder's evident skill and brazen disregard for consequences, he could not leave him unchecked. The convoy had already driven some distance away. When it ground to a halt once more, the guards instantly fanned out into formation, aiming their weapons at the figure ahead. Stepping out of the car, Chen Chuan felt the wind sweeping across the open ground. He pressed down the brim of his hat, instructed everyone to remain on standby, and walked forward alone. The armed squad watched his back while keeping their sights locked onto the figure perched on the vehicle roof. Just then, that silhouette seemed to flicker. To the horror of every gunman, the man had appeared less than fifty meters away in the blink of an eye. He was a young man with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, wearing his hair at medium length. He wore a sleeveless training shirt; the thin, resilient fabric clung tightly to his physique. A few bangs fell across his forehead, and beneath blade-sharp eyebrows lay eyes overflowing with aggressive intensity. Looking at this face, ninety percent identical to the portrait, Chen Chuan hadn't expected the man to appear before him the instant an opportunity presented itself. Observing him up close, he found the sketch artist had captured his disposition with striking precision. He made a mental note to give the artist a raise when he returned. Qi Qianyang stood slightly taller than Chen Chuan. His broad shoulders and dense, powerful back muscles gave him an imposing presence just by standing there. He looked at Chen Chuan and spoke. "I was trying to find you, but it seems you've been looking for me too. So here I am. Still, showing up empty-handed felt rather impolite..." He hitched a thumb backward over his shoulder. "So I threw in a challenge letter. Satisfied?" In a calm voice, Chen Chuan replied, "If you could send a few more, perhaps." Qi Qianyang blinked, taken aback, then burst into loud, wild laughter. Around this time, a drone of engines and wingbeats sounded in the distance. A swarm of combat organisms was rapidly closing in, alongside city security vehicles converging on the scene. Although this was Hongsheng District, it wasn't far from Shenwei District. Upon detecting that Chen Chuan was in danger, Andun immediately mobilized armed units stationed along the district boundary to provide support. Meanwhile, an armed patrol airship from Shenwei District was also en route. Qi Qianyang pointed a finger at Chen Chuan. "I came today just to say hello, but you don't get to choose where we fight." As the words left his mouth, a brilliant light gleamed in his eyes. An invisible mental force field rippled outward. In an instant, the oncoming combat organisms plummeted to the ground like rain, clattering against the asphalt. Even the armed men behind Chen Chuan lost consciousness one after another, slumping over their vehicles. At that same moment, a large blue-black bird swept overhead from a distant high-rise, arriving directly above Qi Qianyang within seconds. A long cable dropped down from the harness strapped across its body. Qi Qianyang flipped backward into the air, caught the cable with a snap of his arm, and was hoisted high into the sky as the great bird surged forward. Hanging there, he called down, "Until next time, then." …… ……