Wind and sand swept through the street. In the faint reddish haze, only the distant, echoing barks of hounds remained; the frantic crackle of gunfire in the distance had died away.
Hiding inside an abandoned roadside shop, Malik peered nervously out the display window at the empty street, his heart thumping wildly against his ribs.
He was at least five hundred meters from where he had taken sniper fire.
Unless something went horribly wrong, that sniper hadn't pursued him—in fact, they probably hadn't even realized he had quietly shifted positions.
Even so, Malik dared not drop his guard, continuing to scan the street with cautious vigilance.
Right then, an icon flashed across his helmet's visor: [Communications Restored]. The sudden chime nearly startled him out of his skin.
"Damn it..."
Cursing at the belated signal, Malik swiftly reached up to kill the comm link, throwing himself back into radio silence.
The signal, restored for barely two seconds, flickered out.
Staring at the greyed-out icon, Malik finally exhaled, letting his hammering heart settle.
This way, even if the Alliance took his squad mates captive, they wouldn't be able to triangulate his general whereabouts.
At the thought of Valen's gruesome demise, a sudden shudder ran down Malik's spine.
He couldn't help it.
The sight of brains splattered across an entire transport compartment was simply too horrifying. Even now, his stomach churned violently.
Deciding he was temporarily out of danger, Malik drew a deep breath and forced himself to stay calm.
Truth be told, he hadn't expected the Alliance to deploy fighter craft, let alone anticipated that electromagnetic jamming munition.
There was only one plausible explanation—
From the very instant they set foot in this sector, every last one of them had been marked.
Perhaps before they had even launched their operation, the other side had already plotted out every step of the ambush.
At the realization that his unit had essentially marched right into a sack the enemy had laid out under their noses, Malik felt a burning wave of humiliation wash over his face.
It was utterly pathetic!
'...I have to find a way out of here.'
With that silent thought, he poked his head slightly beyond the window frame to scout an escape route.
Just then, he noticed a mutant eagle-owl perched atop a battered streetlamp on the far side of the road.
The owl stared fixedly at him, meeting his gaze unflinchingly, its thick, fleshy cheeks slightly puffing with each breath.
Locking eyes with that faintly mocking stare, an ominous premonition seized Malik's chest.
Almost instinctively, he loosened his grip on the assault rifle and reached his right hand toward the silenced pistol at his waist.
To keep from alerting the Alliance during his escape, taking out this loose end beforehand was the best move!
Yet before his fingers could graze the grip of the pistol, an enormous force silently lashed across the back of his knee.
Clang!
A dull, heavy impact rang out, instantly followed by Malik's pained grunt.
"Aaargh—!"
His right leg buckled beneath him, dropping him onto one knee.
Fortunately, he was wearing powered armor; otherwise, that strike would have cleanly severed his lower leg.
Before Malik could recover from the jolt of pain, the sensation of the sharp blade withdrawing from the joint tightened every nerve in his body!
Purely on reflex, he whipped his right fist backward. His armored forearm intercepted the horizontal slash of a short blade with pinpoint accuracy.
Clang—!
The ring of colliding metal echoed through the abandoned shop. Spinning around, Malik finally got a clear look at his assailant.
It was a woman clad in a cloak.
A deep scar traversed her weathered face, and within her eyes burned a hatred far deeper than the wound.
Meeting those venomous eyes, Malik's pupils shrank.
"...Who the hell are you?"
Instinct told him this person wasn't Alliance!
The woman offered no reply. With a single lunging stride, she closed the distance between them once more.
"Looking to die!"
Seeing her charge in with nothing but a blade, Malik sneered, raising his rifle to fire a burst.
Yet before the muzzle flash had roared for even a full second, a glittering arc of steel cleaved half the receiver away.
Too fast!
Shock rippled through Malik. He reflexively drew his sidearm to shoot, but after barely squeezing off two rounds, his arm was clamped by the close-quarters rush of his attacker. A few stray bangs ripped into the ceiling.
A shower of pulverized concrete and dust rained down, dusting Malik's face.
Furious and rattled, he kicked violently forward, only for his boot to catch empty cloth as she slipped aside with effortless grace.
Hummm—
The spinning blade sliced the air with a faint whine. Twisting mid-air, she struck with thunderous momentum against the outer joint of his left knee.
Now both legs had taken a hit.
Although the edge left only a shallow groove in the powered armor plating, the concussive shock still drew a sharp hiss of pain from Malik's throat.
They were too close!
Virtually shoulder to shoulder, nose to nose!
Malik felt like a clumsy elephant, while this cloaked woman darted around him like an elusive rodent, snapping a bite here and tearing a chunk there.
Even if her strikes were like scraping paint and couldn't breach his powered armor, he couldn't keep fighting like this!
Just as he tried to plant his feet and regain balance, she suddenly sprang backward, putting distance between them.
Alarm bells shrieked in Malik's mind; a creeping chill crawled up the back of his skull.
In that very split second, a fiery detonation erupted from his back.
The explosive seemed to have been slapped onto his rear armor. The sudden burst of flame left him no time to react; it felt like a sledgehammer had slammed into the back of his head, sending him pitching forward onto the ground beneath the blistering shockwave.
[Warning! Severe damage to drive components!]
Amber warning lights flashed across his visor. Malik felt as though every part of his body had been jolted out of alignment—both mechanical and flesh.
Shaking his reeling head, he planted his palms on the floor, struggling to rise. But then a brick-like object clapped firmly against the back of his helmet with a crisp snap.
Cold sweat immediately beaded on his brow, trickling down the seam where his helmet met the collar of his suit.
Malik didn't dare test his luck. He surrendered all resistance, lying flat against the dusty floor.
He was utterly bested.
After that brief clash, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was completely outmatched by this person, powered armor or not.
"I surrender..."
The woman said nothing. She merely shifted her gaze to the streetlamp outside, looking at the eagle-owl perched upon it.
As if understanding her gaze, the eagle-owl beat its wings, taking to the air. After circling once overhead, it flew off toward the north.
Watching the owl disappear, the woman brought her eyes back down, resting them upon the Enlightenment Society disciple sprawled prostrate before her.
In an emotionless, level voice, she spoke slowly.
"Take it off yourself."
***
Meanwhile, beneath the half-collapsed skyscraper, a suit of Xiaguang powered armor emerged from the shadows of the ruins.
Pit marks from bullet impacts cratered its ceramite chestplate, and a chaotic mess of scratches nearly obliterated the light grey paint. A pair of alloy-forged mantis blades were hacked nearly dull, their cutting edges chipped and curled!
It looked like a battered wreck, as though it had just crawled out of the gates of hell.
Yet any seasoned veteran could tell that the damage was purely superficial, concentrated mostly on the detachable chestplate.
As for the mantis blades, they were consumables to begin with. When clashing against armored opponents, dulling and nicking were entirely standard.
If anything, managing to use those two blades to the very end of the brawl was downright miraculous!
This guy was a master!
Watching the powered armor step out from the base of the skyscraper, Talan Raider, who had been grandstanding in front of the captured prisoners, spread his arms wide with a beaming grin and stepped forward to greet him.
"Splendid work, brother! Have you ever considered joining our Des—"
The player grinned, uncoupling the two mantis blades, tossing them clattering to the floor, and decisively thrusting out his right hand.
"Flattery won't pay the bills! Pay up, brother."
"Damn! Ice-cold, aren't you?"
The player chuckled.
"Depends on the situation, mostly."
Talan Raider: "...&￥#@!"
Damn it!
Who the hell are you looking down on?!
Cursing aside, the agreed-upon pay would still be paid. Besides, the sum had already been placed in escrow through the Alliance's Mercenary Guild; there wasn't even a need to hand over cash on the spot. Once the job was done, a single confirmation tap would transfer the funds straight into the other man's account.
Having collected his bounty, the player didn't rush off. Instead, he ambled over toward the outer edge of the ruins with a cheeky grin to stand watch.
The mission wasn't over yet.
The previous skirmish had been an impromptu arrangement; the job he had accepted from Desert Corps was to assist them in making contact with a key NPC. Only when the entire quest flow wrapped up would he receive the remaining payout based on completion score.
As a professional solo player, he still held onto that shred of work ethic.
Watching the Desert Corps commander stewing in frustration, Xiao Chuan Chun Yi Lang—also working freelance here—strolled over from the side, tossing a combat knife casually into the air with a smug smirk.
"Hey, Old Baldy, fishing for solo players again?"
At the rude moniker, Talan Raider nearly choked on his own spit. He whipped around and snapped, "Piss off! My name is Talan! You're the bald one! Your whole family is bald!"
Xiao Jiang rolled his eyes and snickered.
"Tch, who bothers remembering such formal names? You sound like an NPC."
Talan Raider sneered.
"And what about you? Sound like a corpse?"
Xiao Jiang rolled his eyes to the heavens.
"Get lost, get lost."
Though this guy wasn't in Desert Corps, Talan was quite familiar with him, as well as with Desert Eagle, who often ran missions alongside him.
Because they frequently took jobs together, Talan had tried more than once to entice the two of them into joining Desert Corps, but they had never agreed. After trying so many times, Talan had stopped bothering to bring it up.
Not everyone liked being tied down to an organization.
Besides, when Talan thought about it, his Desert Corps really didn't have much to offer. They lacked lavish welfare, rarely took center stage in the wasteland's grand theater, and occasionally bungled the odd jobs they picked up around the edges.
To be honest, receiving an assignment handed down personally by the Administrator this time had left him feeling somewhat flattered and overwhelmed.
After all, the operation in Evernight Port back then could practically be considered a screw-up...
After shooting the breeze with a few solo players, Talan turned and walked back toward the clearing where the prisoners were being held.
The boys in the corps should have finished their interrogation by now.
Sure enough, Medical Miracle, who had been handling the questioning, strolled over.
"Done asking. They're Desert Scorpions."
"Desert Scorpions?" Talan Raider frowned, muttering thoughtfully, "What the hell are they?"
Medical Miracle gave a concise summary.
"According to what they spilled, they're supposedly special forces belonging to the Enlightenment Society. The core members are all vault dwellers, and a few are Awakened who've received gene-induction expression injections."
Talan Raider's eyes lit up, his face breaking into a wide grin.
"Badass! We just wiped out a special forces unit!"
Medical Miracle wore a subtle expression.
"If memory serves... the Enlightenment Society doesn't really have regular army units. In theory, all their troops are 'special forces.'"
Talan Raider cleared his throat.
"Doesn't matter! What matters is that we've risen up!"
Looking at his overly optimistic commander, Medical Miracle sighed, paused for a beat, and continued.
"Based on the separate interrogations, they were drawn here by the radio signal just like us. At the very least, that proves they don't know the NPC named 'Zhuang Lan.'"
"Also, their commander is quite the genius. He had the exact same idea as you: use the signal base station inside the skyscraper ruins as bait to catch us off guard... and then he ran headfirst into our guns."
To be frank, when he had first heard his commander's half-baked, spur-of-the-moment scheme, Medical Miracle had been thoroughly pessimistic, even preparing himself to eat sand out in the desert for an entire month.
Given the terrible communication conditions in the Great Desert, the other side might not have picked up the signal at all. Even if they had, they might not have cared; even if they cared, they wouldn't necessarily have mobilized a whole crowd.
Yet contrary to all expectations, the enemy had indeed picked up the lead, taken it seriously, and dispatched an entire company's worth of troops.
You could only say that two evenly matched wits had crossed paths.
"Hahaha, a genius indeed! Too bad he was still half a step behind me!" Talan Raider laughed proudly, stroking his chin before asking impatiently, "Where is this genius? Where is he?"
At the question, Medical Miracle's face grew awkward.
"Uh, he's not among the captives... Desert Eagle said he thought he saw a guy in powered armor, but the guy slipped away. Not sure if that was their boss."
Talan Raider's eyes bulged.
"Holy crap, he got away?! What the hell was that useless bastard doing—"
"Who the fuck are you calling a useless bastard?!"
Before Talan could finish, an enraged shout boomed from the side.
The two turned to look. Slung with a sniper rifle, Desert Eagle was stomping toward them.
Two figures trailed behind him.
One was draped in a desert-tan cloak, while the other looked utterly disheveled, trussed up like a bundle with heavy rope.
"Here's your man! The commander of those Desert Scorpions or whatever."
Yanking on the rope, Desert Eagle shoved Malik forward and snarled at Talan, "Damn it all! All you do all day is brag, while I'm the one doing all the heavy lifting! Why don't you just make me the corps commander instead?!"
Talan Raider's weathered face flushed red. He wanted to fire back, but with no leg to stand on, he swallowed his retort.
Medical Miracle stared at Desert Eagle in surprise.
"Not bad, brother! You caught this guy?"
Desert Eagle, who had been barking so fiercely a second ago, suddenly flushed red as well. He coughed dryly and hurried through his words.
"Sort of... I picked him up off the ground... That's not the point. Oh, and I took out his vice captain—one shot to the dome!"
His voice was so quiet that Medical Miracle briefly wondered if his own ears were playing tricks on him.
Just then, Talan noticed the cloaked stranger standing nearby and cast an inquiring look her way.
"And this is?"
Seeing the two men opposite her looking in question, the cloaked figure reached up and pulled back her hood.
Catching sight of the weathered face beneath, an expression of surprise surfaced on Talan Raider's features.
A woman?
Out in the perilous Great Desert, lone travelers were a rare sight to begin with.
A woman operating completely on her own was rarer still.
The woman gave a slight nod and introduced herself.
"I am Zhuang Lan."
Medical Miracle and Talan Raider exchanged a glance, their astonishment deepening.
"You're Zhuang Lan?"
Zhuang Lan nodded, speaking in a measured voice.
"Yes. Survivor of Shelter 68, organizer of the Watchers... Long before your reach extended into the Great Desert, we had been fighting against Enlightenment Society factions for a very long time."
Pausing for a moment, she added, "...Furthermore, the signal you received was sent by me."
Talan Raider's brows furrowed slightly. He scrutinized her face, trying to detect any hint of deception.
"I don't understand. If you were the one who sent the signal, why didn't you come out to meet us?"
Zhuang Lan remained quiet for a moment, glancing toward the half-collapsed skyscraper nearby.
"Because... this is no place for conversation."
"If you could pick up the signal, the people who shouldn't receive it could pick it up just as easily. I intended to tail you once you moved out, but I didn't expect you to stay put here without leaving."
A faint, awkward tension hung in the air.
Remembering that lying in wait here for the Enlightenment Society had been his own bright idea, Talan reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Seeing his blockhead commander still harboring doubts about the NPC's identity, Desert Eagle hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat to speak.
"I don't think there's any need to doubt who she is... To tell you the truth, she's the one who captured this guy."
As he spoke, he pointed toward Malik, who was bundled up like a rice dumpling.
Medical Miracle's eyes widened until they nearly popped from their sockets. He stared in utter disbelief at the woman, who didn't look like an exceptional brawler.
Her?
She took down an Awakened in powered armor?
In truth, it was largely because he had joined the game late, receiving his helmet only within the past year, so he had little knowledge of what had transpired back at Shelter 0.
Zhuang Lan, however, remained modest, making no effort to emphasize her role in capturing the prisoner.
Seeing every gaze fixed on the captive, she paused briefly, then cast her own eyes over him.
"Though a few unexpected things happened, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I didn't think we would reel in such a big fish."
Glancing at the bound captive, Talan raised an eyebrow.
"You mean this guy?"
Zhuang Lan nodded slowly.
"Malik, captain of the Desert Scorpions, senior disciple of the Enlightenment Society... I had already heard his name before I left the Society. He had quite a reputation back then, though I didn't expect he wouldn't have grown at all after all these years."
"You really are one of ours..." Malik twisted his head around, glaring murderously at Zhuang Lan, spitting out venomous words through gritted teeth. "Traitor. You betrayed the vault, you betrayed everyone..."
A playful smirk played across Zhuang Lan's lips, though it soon turned into self-mockery.
Burning oneself up under the grandiose delusion of 'igniting a new era,' only to discover one was merely an irredeemable fool... Wasn't that exactly who she used to be?
She hadn't believed it at first either.
Not until she unearthed the lost administrator's log and dug up the blood-soaked truth with her own hands.
Indeed, an administrator understood an administrator best.
It was true that the Enlightenment Society had dragged her from that living hell.
Yet they were also the ones who had set the fire...
Facing Malik's hateful glare, she spoke in an even, dispassionate tone.
"If you're interested, I can tell you the story of Shelter 68. Once you understand the full scope of history, you'll know who the real traitors are."
"Then again, I suppose that would be completely pointless. Even if you knew what happened to us, you wouldn't necessarily sympathize. People only believe what they want to believe, and they only empathize when the pain is their own. I was once just like you. I don't know which shelter you hail from, but you need to find your own log... if you ever get the chance again, that is."
Malik sneered.
"...What are you trying to say? More lies fabricated by wastelander trash to frame us?"
Perhaps finding the retort too foolish to merit a response, Zhuang Lan offered no reply and didn't spare him another glance. Instead, she turned her eyes back to the Alliance warrior before her.
"To make a long story short, sending you that signal... was simply to let your Administrator know that I've fulfilled the wager we made. This is the administrator's log of Shelter 68. Aside from the log, the drive contains a map. You can use it to locate the ruins, though there isn't much left there."
As she spoke, she retrieved a thumb-sized data card from inside her coat and handed it over.
Talan Raider took the card solemnly and slotted it into the VM on his left forearm to read the data.
"Our Administrator asked me to pass along a message. He's pleased you kept your word. Your freedom is no longer borrowed from him; from now on, it belongs entirely to you."
After a beat, he added, "Of course, one matter doesn't cancel another. The Eastern Empire still has an active bounty on you, seeing as you killed their people."
"Thank you... As for the Eastern Empire, I will make amends in my own way."
Zhuang Lan dipped her head, then looked up to continue.
"Besides that, there is one more matter I feel I must tell you."
Talan Raider said promptly, "Please, go ahead!"
Zhuang Lan continued, "Our Watchers' intelligence network across the Great Desert discovered that the Enlightenment Society has recently uncharacteristically halted its territorial expansion in the region. Instead, they have been pulling personnel and supplies scattered across the Great Desert and concentrating them around Shelter 13."
Medical Miracle paused, asking in confusion, "Gathering personnel and supplies? What are they trying to pull?"
The main reason the Alliance had trouble pinning down the Enlightenment Society was that those bastards were too good at hiding.
The Southern Legion's factories at least had fixed coordinates, whereas the Society's arms and munitions were churned out of black boxes—the epitome of mobile deployment. Relocating was child's play for them.
Now they were clumping their personnel and assets together? Weren't they afraid of getting wiped out in one fell swoop?
"I don't know," Zhuang Lan shook her head, pondering for a moment before continuing. "Shelter 13 is located near the remnants of an orbital elevator base, and its depth is supposedly one thousand meters. According to unconfirmed reports, it was once considered a backup candidate for the 'Handle'... If you don't know what the 'Handle' is, please relay those exact words to your Administrator."
Talan Raider stared at her intently, speaking rapidly.
"I know about Project Torch... Are you saying that place can withstand strategic strikes on the level of neutron eradication?"
Zhuang Lan shook her head.
"In theory, every shelter was built to withstand that. But due to its unique location, Shelter 13's distinguishing feature is likely its sheer scale. It was rumored to have a capacity of over a million people. Of course, what things look like inside is beyond me; even its coordinates were classified previously... However, I believe Mr. Malik here has certainly stepped inside that paradise."
Feeling every pair of eyes lock onto him, Malik felt panicky on the inside, yet he maintained a cold, defiant sneer.
"You think I'm going to tell you anything?"
"Hard to say, but I think that gentleman over there can persuade you to change your mind."
Zhuang Lan gave Malik a meaningful glance, then turned back to the Alliance warrior.
"I leave him in your hands. I hope you won't turn around and set him free; at the very least, make sure he disappears for a while."
"We will," Talan nodded solemnly, then asked, "What about you? What are your plans next?"
Zhuang Lan answered without hesitation.
"I intend to use his identity to slip into Shelter 13 and have a look. Perhaps I can figure out what the Enlightenment Society is plotting in there."
Hearing this insane idea, Malik's eyes went wide.
"Disguise yourself as me?! Are you out of your fucking mind?! You'll never pull it off!"
Having stayed relatively docile until now, he suddenly began thrashing violently, but the two Strength-type brutes pinning him down weren't about to indulge him, pressing him flat into the dirt with crushing force.
Looking at the panic written across Malik's face, a subtle smirk curved the corners of Zhuang Lan's mouth.
"How would I know without trying? I have a fair bit of confidence in my disguise techniques."
Having heard that the Enlightenment Society had always treated Shelter 13 as its primary rear base, she had long wanted to slip inside and see for herself. It was just that she had never found the right opportunity or the right target to replace.
Fortunately, just when the problem was troubling her, Malik had delivered himself to her doorstep.
Though a disciple, he was a senior disciple—someone privy to things ordinary disciples couldn't access, yet not so prominent as to draw scrutiny like a 'Guide.'
Most importantly, having handled intelligence collection for the Enlightenment Society in the past, she possessed his record and personal profile. Impersonating someone else might slip up, but impersonating this man would not.
She was even confident she could sleep in the same bed as his wife without blowing her cover.
Medical Miracle suddenly chimed in.
"Ah... I've got an idea."
Before Zhuang Lan could speak, Talan Raider shot him a wary look.
"What half-baked idea have you cooked up now?"
"What do you mean half-baked? Could my ideas ever be as rotten as yours?" Medical Miracle shot him a sideways glance, then turned to Zhuang Lan with a smile. "Here's my thought: your men are either dead or captured. If you go back completely alone, it'd be a miracle if no one suspected you."
Zhuang Lan replied cautiously.
"Being suspected is a certainty, but that isn't really a problem. I used to work in intelligence; I know exactly how they interrogate, and I know how to earn their trust."
Medical Miracle explained patiently.
"That may be, but pulling it off is still bound to be tough, right? How about this: we pick someone from our side to act as your prisoner. That way, you'll have something solid to show when you report back."
Zhuang Lan stared at him, dumbfounded.
"This... do you even realize what you're saying? Taken prisoner by the Enlightenment Society? That's not something to joke about..."
Those people didn't care about ethics or restraint.
When dealing with enemies—especially prisoners who had outlived their usefulness—they would directly hook them up to memory extraction rigs, squeezing out every last scrap of information from their brains.
As she spoke, she looked anxiously toward the soldier's superior, only to find that rather than objecting to the proposal, the commander was thoughtfully rubbing his chin.
A moment later, having weighed the idea, Talan looked up with a pleasantly surprised expression.
"Hiss... You actually managed to come up with a decent idea for once."
A beaming grin spread across Medical Miracle's face.
"Ha! If you'd listened to me sooner, our corps would have been T0 tier ages ago."
Desert Eagle curled his lip in utter disdain.
"Quit your bullshit."
He conceded the idea was passable, but claiming this little bit of cleverness could make them T0? If it were that easy, the streets would be teeming with T0 badasses.
Zhuang Lan: "...?"
Although she couldn't understand their strange gamer jargon, she could tell from their tone and expressions that they weren't rejecting the plan.
Were these people out of their minds?!
Zhuang Lan looked at them with genuine worry.
"I cannot let you take such a risk."
Medical Miracle waved a hand with a laugh.
"What's the big deal? It's not like we haven't done jail time back in Evernight Port. How about this: since the idea was mine, let me, Medical Miracle—"
"Let me, the corps commander (solo veteran), be the prisoner!"
Before Medical Miracle could finish, Talan Raider and Desert Eagle shouted over him in unison.
With such a juicy quest on the table, why let a teammate hog all the glory?
Realizing someone was trying to steal their thunder, the three men glared at each other, eyes wide.
"You're not even in our corps! What the fuck are you fighting for?! What's this got to do with you?!"
"Hilarious! I'm a member of the Alliance too, so why wouldn't it have anything to do with me? And look at you—you're a corps commander, for crying out loud! Do you have the nerve to steal from us commoners?"
"What the hell does this have to do with being a commoner?!"
"Stop fighting, all of you! Obviously, it should be me, Medical Mira—"
"Piss off, noob! Go play in the corner."
"What the fuck! I've been playing for over half a year, and you're calling me a noob?!"
Watching the group bicker fiercely over who got to go to their deaths, Zhuang Lan was rendered completely speechless, but deep within, a sense of solemn respect welled up.
Though she couldn't understand their language, she could feel that they genuinely wanted their comrade to survive and were fighting to be the one who sacrificed themselves.
What profound, selfless loyalty...
Unlike Zhuang Lan, Malik, trussed up like a bundle and dumped on the ground, had an entirely different reaction as he watched the chaotic squabble.
Pretending to be a prisoner?
They were severely underestimating his organization's interrogation methods.
They might as well pretend to be corpses instead.
His face remained blank, but a cold sneer curled inside his mind.
'Heh. Looking to die!'
Chapter 983