Xing Bi, as a “hitman” who had taken a job, was absolutely right to set off immediately to complete the task.
At this hour, even the anxious ordinary folk had already fallen asleep. Naturally, a bunch of evildoers who felt no guilt whatsoever had also gone back to their dens to rest. After all, it was clear that apart from Li Rui, no one in this area dared to resist.
The leader of the gang had been blown up—along with his house—by Sang Fan. The resulting chaos drew all the thugs charging up to protect their boss, only to be blocked off from above and below by a few bioroids. Within minutes, the entire group had been subdued.
As for how to deal with them, Qiu Shi left the decision to Li Rui.
“Third Master,” Qiu Shi looked at him, and at the group of his followers who had rushed over after hearing the commotion. “We’ve completed your task. The extra spoils are a bonus for you. How you handle them is up to you.”
Li Rui gave him a glance, then tilted his head toward the prison and began walking in that direction, motioning for his followers to go with him.
Xing Bi and his team had already withdrawn from the scene and looped back around from behind.
Standing silently in the dark was a slim figure—Li Rui’s older sister. If it hadn’t been for the tiny glowing dot on the map, Qiu Shi wouldn’t have noticed her there at all.
“Big Sister,” he greeted her.
“Where are you all from?” she asked.
“Over by Donglin,” Qiu Shi replied. He still didn’t mention Yun City—after all, the threat there hadn’t been completely eliminated.
“Are you going back?” she asked again.
“Yes,” Qiu Shi answered.
From the prison came chaotic shouts, followed by screams, then sudden silence.
Qiu Shi turned toward the prison gate.
Li Rui walked out, drenched in blood, holding a knife.
“Can you take him with you?” the sister said.
Qiu Shi froze.
“He’s only fifteen,” she said. “If he stays here, he’ll either die, or become one of them… then die.”
Qiu Shi fell silent. Xing Bi and the others said nothing either.
Li Rui approached and simply said, “Thanks.”
“Did you kill them all?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Yeah,” Li Rui replied, lowering his head as he walked away. “If I hadn’t, those monsters would’ve known it was you guys. You’d never be able to cross the river tomorrow.”
Not hearing any response from them, Li Rui took a few more steps, then turned back. “Come on. My guys are letting all the captives out right now. Everyone will know it was me. My brothers and I—we’ve made our mark in this area now. No one’s gonna dare touch my sister again. Two birds with one stone.”
His words were steady, but Qiu Shi could see his hand shaking around the knife. He didn’t even notice his sister standing nearby.
There were quite a few looted items in the prison. To Qiu Shi, none of it seemed particularly valuable, but the followers were visibly excited as they carried out the spoils in sacks.
“There’s a lot of food, and clothes too,” one follower said. “Boss Diao, didn’t you want a pair of boots? Found you a pair.”
“You wear them,” Li Rui replied. “Turns out those things hurt your feet.”
“Boss Diao,” said a tall, burly follower who wasn’t carrying a sack—just a small pouch. “See if there’s anything here that matches your cables.”
Li Rui immediately came over and rummaged through the pouch.
It was full of cords and little rectangular plug heads. Qiu Shi recognized them—ancient gadgets used to charge things like phones.
Probably some relics from Li Rui’s collection of old tech.
But all the cables looked the same. After sifting through them, Li Rui looked a bit disappointed. “None of them.”
“Seriously? All that, and not one usable one?” the burly follower asked, surprised.
“I need the kind with a flat, long oval head,” Li Rui explained, then sighed. “Forget it. Doesn’t matter anymore.”
Qiu Shi looked at him.
“Da Xiong,” Li Rui stood up and patted the big guy on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”
After they left, Qiu Shi glanced over at Xing Bi, who was leaning against the wall, watching the group excitedly sort through the loot.
“Hm?” Xing Bi’s voice came through the earpiece.
“That kid Diao doesn’t seem like he wants to live,” Qiu Shi muttered.
“Yeah, I noticed,” Xing Bi replied.
“He’s only fifteen… I thought he was maybe seventeen or eighteen, just a little younger than Hu Xiaoling.”
“You want to save him?” Xing Bi asked.
“Don’t you?” Qiu Shi glanced his way.
Xing Bi chuckled.
“You heard what his sister said, right?” Qiu Shi continued.
“Yeah,” Xing Bi said. “But he definitely won’t come with us.”
“True.” Qiu Shi frowned.
“I’ll think of something,” Xing Bi said. “You don’t have to worry about it.”
Li Rui’s sister came over and sat in the chair next to Qiu Shi.
She didn’t say anything—just quietly watched the young people around her.
“How did your husband die?” Qiu Shi asked.
“We were out scavenging and ran into some nomads,” she said calmly. “They wanted our stuff. Killed him. Pretty normal, isn’t it? Li Rui blocked a knife for me and pushed me off a cliff. That’s how I survived.”
From Qiu Shi’s point of view, the odds of dying from the fall were about the same as staying and being hacked to death. If you only half-died from the fall, in a world with almost no medical care, you’d just die slowly. Still, they had chosen the cliff.
Qiu Shi thought of what Li Rui had said earlier, about the women being gone, and remembered the nomads they’d encountered during their first trip to Donglin…
He glanced at the sister, wondering what to say if she asked him again to take Li Rui away.
But she didn’t bring it up again. Maybe she knew that Li Rui would never leave her behind.
Li Rui’s followers all looked young, and they all called her “Sister.” Qiu Shi guessed that she and her husband had been the ones taking care of them.
Not just here—in fact, even in the relatively safer outer cities, there were few refugees who would look after a bunch of teenage boys like that. That couple had been rare good people in a chaotic world.
“Sister, what’s your name?” Qiu Shi asked.
“My name is Li Xia,” she replied, looking at him. “Everyone calls me Sister Xia. Li Rui and the others just call me ‘Sis.’”
“Oh.” Qiu Shi nodded.
This Li Xia clearly wasn’t some delicate woman. Surviving in a place like this, and earning everyone’s respect as “Sister Xia,” said a lot.
“Li Rui will probably have you cross the river around dawn,” Li Xia said. “The visibility over the water’s poor at that time.”
“How’s he planning to get across?” Qiu Shi asked. “Do you have a boat?”
“I don’t know,” Li Xia said. “He didn’t even tell me he was sending you over. I just overheard it.”
“Oh.” Qiu Shi didn’t ask further.
After sorting through the spoils of war, Li Xia grabbed some food and wine. The group celebrated cheerfully inside the shop.
Qiu Shi didn’t join in. He and Xing Bi sat in the car outside.
Just like Li Rui had said, this wasn’t an abandoned city. There were still residents nearby. Once they heard the commotion at the prison—and especially since the prisoners had been released—word spread quickly. Suddenly, the street was bustling with people, all heading for the shop.
The lights on the upper floor, which had previously been turned off, were now switched on again. The flickering lights and the sound of lively conversation brought a sense of life to the once-desolate street and the eerie shop.
Qiu Shi originally wanted to talk more with Xing Bi about Li Rui, but in the end, he felt it was pointless.
From Li Xia’s perspective, she clearly wanted to take Li Rui away. Life here was too brutal. Even if, as Li Rui claimed, the shop operated on fair trade, the calmness he showed while wiping blood off a can, and the thoughts he harbored while killing that room full of scum, already sealed his fate—just like Li Xia had said. He would either die, or become one of “them,” and then die anyway.
But from Li Rui’s point of view, unless they tied him up, there was no way he’d agree to leave. Everything he cared about, his whole life, the people he loved and wanted to protect, were all here. They couldn’t possibly take his entire life away with them.
A voice came through the earpiece—Feng Zhi’s: “They’re back. Hauled two large steel plates to the bridge.”
“How far is the bridge from here?” Xing Bi asked. “They pulled them by hand?”
“A bit over four kilometers,” Feng Zhi said. “Yeah, by hand. One man, one plate. So it’s slow.”
“They have vehicles, don’t they?” Qiu Shi asked.
“They’re taking back roads to avoid detection,” Feng Zhi explained. “They padded the bottom of the plates with silent rollers.”
“What are they planning?” Qiu Shi turned to look at Xing Bi.
“They’re building us a bridge,” Xing Bi replied.
“How big are the plates? That break in the bridge is over ten meters wide—two plates won’t cut it,” Qiu Shi said.
“Two meters by four meters each,” said Feng Zhi.
“Shit, no wonder they called the biggest guys they had. If you’re skinny, you’d barely be able to hold it steady,” Qiu Shi frowned. “Still not enough, though.”
“It’ll be enough,” said Xing Bi.
Qiu Shi stared at him, trying to imagine five different ways those two plates could be arranged to span the ten-plus-meter gap, but he just couldn’t figure it out.
“Has the teaching quality at the refugee school dropped so much that even you don’t notice it anymore?” Qiu Shi muttered.
“Get some rest,” Xing Bi smiled.
Qiu Shi closed his eyes and reclined the seat. He really did need to sleep for a bit. He wasn’t a biotech-enhanced being. Even if he had undergone some enhancements, he was still human—and humans needed rest.
He worried about Li Rui. He didn’t know how someone like Li Rui could possibly get their convoy of seven vehicles across that bridge. He didn’t know if Li Rui had been serious about “trading their lives” for it. But he trusted Xing Bi. They had to get across. And Xing Bi wouldn’t let ordinary humans die for them.
As for taking Li Rui away… they’d probably have to give up on that. If, when they came back, these people were still here, Qiu Shi would definitely tell them: if you’re willing, come with us westward. Yun City might not be perfect. It had its own darkness and despair. But there were more people there. And maybe, one day, that shelter could truly become a refuge.
He hadn’t slept long when someone knocked on the car window.
Qiu Shi rolled it down. Li Rui stood outside, wearing a coat that looked nearly new. His expression carried a hidden mix of fear and grim determination.
“We’re heading out. Get your people ready. Just drive straight to the spot where you entered yesterday and turn right. We’ll guide you from there,” Li Rui said.
“Okay.” Qiu Shi looked at him. “Not wearing your helmet? No bulletproof vest either? Isn’t that one better?”
“Too restrictive,” Li Rui replied. “Listen to what I’m about to say.”
“Sure thing, Third Master,” Qiu Shi said.
Li Rui gave a small smile. “Keep your distance from us—enough for you to accelerate. When you see we’re ready, punch it. Don’t think about anything else—just go. Got it?”
“Leave space to accelerate. As soon as you’re set, we go,” Qiu Shi repeated.
Li Rui nodded. He pulled out a flat object in a leather sleeve from his coat and handed it through the window. “This is for you. It’s an antique—you can read stories on it. Tons of them. But it’s out of power. My charger broke, and I could never find a replacement. You guys are capable—you’ll find a way.”
Qiu Shi took it, a bad feeling sinking in his gut.
“Once it’s charged, you’ll be able to read it. The old stories were really good—the kind we can’t even imagine now,” Li Rui’s eyes lit up as he spoke. Then he looked at Xing Bi. “You know, right, Brother Shadowguard?”
“Yes. A lot of those stories were very interesting,” Xing Bi reached out a hand. “Let’s officially meet. I’m Xing Bi.”
“Li Rui,” Li Rui said, shaking his hand.
Qiu Shi was about to open the car door and say more, but Li Rui pushed it shut again. “Go. We’ll be waiting at the intersection.”
Li Rui circled around the back of the building and ran eastward.
The soldiers resting upstairs also came out, swiftly and quietly gearing up and getting into their vehicles.
“I don’t like this,” Qiu Shi glanced at the now-empty tavern. He had wanted to say goodbye to Li Xia, but hadn’t seen her.
She probably didn’t know what Li Rui was going to do—he likely hadn’t told her.
“What is it?” Xing Bi asked.
“Is this a parting gift?” Qiu Shi looked down at the flat device Li Rui had given him, with a screen on top.
“We’ve got a compatible charger,” Xing Bi replied without directly answering. “Same one as the music stick.”
Qiu Shi glanced at him but said nothing.
“Move out,” Xing Bi ordered. “Once you spot Third Master, maintain acceleration distance and follow.”
“Copy,” the lead vehicle responded.
“Sang Fan’s not in our car?” Qiu Shi glanced around and saw only Ji Sui in the back seat.
“She’s with Feng Zhi in the last vehicle,” Ji Sui said. “We don’t know what’s going to happen. Better to spread out.”
“Yeah,” Qiu Shi nodded and adjusted the gun mounted at the firing port next to him, making sure it was ready to go at any moment.
Their convoy retraced their route to the entrance from the day before and turned eastward.
The sky was beginning to lighten—barely. Li Rui had probably picked this time on purpose. Compared to nighttime, even a bit of light would make shadows stand out clearly. But full daylight would expose everything. Only at dawn, with the mist drifting around and heavier fog over the river, would everything remain vague and vision be limited.
In that light fog, Qiu Shi saw two figures moving ahead.
One was Li Rui. The other was the big guy who helped drag the steel plates the day before.
The map confirmed it—only those two humans were moving on foot ahead.
“Just those two?” Qiu Shi was stunned.
“Yeah,” Xing Bi replied.
“Shit,” Qiu Shi cursed. Just the two of them—it confirmed it. They were going to die.
“We won’t let them die,” Xing Bi said, pressing a hand on Qiu Shi’s leg.
Up ahead, Li Rui and the big guy started running—full sprint, like they were giving it everything they had. The convoy behind them began accelerating too, keeping that precise distance as Li Rui had instructed. It had to be said, Li Rui and the big guy were fast—clearly the kind of speed needed to survive in an environment like this.
The bridge was over four kilometers away. Beyond it was Benquan City. This was the outskirts, but the roads were wide. Though the pavement had long since vanished, the layout was still visible—intersecting straight lines, ruined buildings on either side. You could tell it had once been a well-planned city.
A big one, at that.
From time to time, little dots of human life could be seen flickering within the buildings on both sides—it was clear that quite a few people lived here. Resources might be a bit of a problem, but when it came to avoiding the “jungle,” clusters of buildings made a decent refuge. They were easier to seal off, vegetation was sparse, and the chance of escaping the fungus was a little higher. Between the two types of survival threats, there was rarely a perfect choice.
But everything here might change with the arrival of the symbionts. The trees and meadows along the riverside would become their camp…
Qiu Shi stared at the buildings flashing past outside the window, then looked at Li Rui and Da Xiong running at full speed ahead of them, his heart a tangled mess.
The buildings on both sides gradually thinned out, and in the mist hanging midair ahead, two arched black shadows began to appear. Slowly, they came into full view.
It was the kind of cable-stayed bridge Qiu Shi had seen in pictures before—this was his first time seeing one with his own eyes.
According to the images in books, the bridge before them wasn’t particularly large, but to Qiu Shi, it still felt imposing. The world the ancestors once lived in was slowly unfolding before his eyes.
The convoy slowed slightly. Up ahead, Li Rui and Da Xiong pushed up the steel plates they had left here earlier, stood them upright on pulleys, and began dragging them forward by the chains tied to them.
The moment Qiu Shi saw the actual steel plates, he seemed to instantly understand how they planned to get across the bridge.
“Xing Bi,” he suddenly turned to look at him.
Xing Bi gave his hand a firm squeeze.
“Stay alert,” Xing Bi said. “There may be an attack from the right.”
Both steel plates being dragged forward were on the right side. They were not only tools for crossing the bridge—they were also the only protection Li Rui and Da Xiong had against attacks.
Once their vehicle made it across, Li Rui and Da Xiong would almost certainly not make it back alive.
The bridge surface was damaged in many places, cracked all over, but still relatively level. After getting on the bridge, the convoy picked up speed, but they still heard gunfire.
At around thirty meters ahead, their vehicle was hit by a bullet—it was clear the shot came from a distant position.
The convoy returned fire in the next instant, unleashing a barrage of bullets toward the direction the shots had come from. It was both a counterattack and a way to give Li Rui and Da Xiong a bit of cover.
The fog over the river was thick; both sides could only shoot in a general direction.
Qiu Shi kept his eyes on Li Rui and Da Xiong up ahead. Their steel plates had both been hit, but because of the long range and the plates’ thickness, they remained uninjured.
All of this must’ve been part of Li Rui’s plan. The gunfire didn’t faze him; he just kept his head down and charged forward.
Soon, Qiu Shi could see the damaged section of the bridge from the map.
The convoy maintained distance between vehicles. Qiu Shi glanced at Xing Bi. They were almost at the spot. He had already figured out what Li Rui was planning—but under these circumstances, he had no idea how Xing Bi was going to get those two madmen out alive.
“They’re the legendary hidden guards, right?”
“The strongest combatants among all the bio-enhanced,” Xing Bi replied. “Gods of war.”
Li Rui’s words echoed in Qiu Shi’s mind.
Yes. They were gods of war. They would definitely save them.
Li Rui and Da Xiong had reached the edge of the broken bridge. They laid the steel plates flat on the surface—one end hanging over the gap, the other braced in the cracked seams of the bridge.
Then, the two of them jumped down into the broken section. The bridge was thick, and the uneven break provided many footholds.
This was where the key to their success lay—two loose I-beams, which Li Rui and Da Xiong had discovered earlier when they came looking for building materials. They were too large to move back then.
Now, they pushed the steel beams up onto the bridge and propped them under the steel plates. The two plates became inclined ramps, allowing the vehicles to accelerate and leap across the gap.
“Together!” Li Rui shouted.
Da Xiong quickly moved over the exposed steel bars at the broken edge to his side. The wind roared in his ears, and beneath his feet, the fog-covered river surged.
“Don’t look down,” Li Rui said. “Push it up!”
Together, they used their shoulders to lift the horizontal frame under the I-beam, then shoved upward with all their might.
“Ah—!” Li Rui roared, “Harder!”
“Ah—!” Da Xiong roared in unison.
The horizontal frame above the steel beam pressed right against the jutting steel plate. The plate tilted upward.
Watching the two plates rise into ramps before the broken section of the bridge, Qiu Shi felt all the hairs on his body stand on end. Even though he had guessed they might do this, seeing the two kids use nothing but their own strength to build this path across the void left him deeply shaken.
“Fuck,” Qiu Shi cursed through gritted teeth, his nose tingling.
The two steel plates now sloped over the gap ahead.
“Go!” Xing Bi ordered. “Sang Fan, Feng Zhi, get ready.”
“Roger,” said Sang Fan.
“Roger,” echoed Feng Zhi.
Qiu Shi jumped up and dove toward the screen at the driver’s seat, pulling up the rear-camera feed from the last vehicle.
The first vehicle accelerated up the ramp, traced an arc in the air, and landed safely on the other side of the bridge.
Then came their own vehicle. As they soared through the air, Qiu Shi cracked open the window and shouted, “Third Master—!”
“Let’s go—!” Li Rui’s voice was quickly scattered by the wind and gunfire.
Qiu Shi could feel the car swaying a bit. The ramps were uneven in length, but for trained soldiers, it was still manageable. If it were ordinary people, they probably would’ve flipped and fallen into the gaping hole in the middle.
Their vehicle also landed steadily on the other side.
One after another, the remaining vehicles leaped across via the makeshift ramps.
As the final vehicle climbed the ramp, Qiu Shi kept his eyes on the monitor, his clenched fists cramping from the tension.
Before the car reached the peak of its arc, its rear hatch opened. Sang Fan and Feng Zhi jumped out, thin steel cables tied to their bodies.
Qiu Shi watched in shock as they landed at the broken edge—each grabbed one of the boys in a single arm, and then, using the forward momentum of the vehicle, were yanked back by the cables. The people inside pulled them back into the car in one clean sweep.
