Michael Chen's wild laughter echoed behind me. I quickly ducked down, feeling a powerful force sweep past the top of my head. With a loud bang, the wall to my left was kicked open, leaving a gaping hole.
Just as I tried to run, Michael Chen grabbed my collar with one hand, his face twisted in a vicious snarl as he glared at me.
"What's wrong, Ethan Zhang? Didn't you say you hated me?"
I struggled desperately, searching for a way out.
"Where's Justin Huang? Where did he go?"
"He's in the basement downstairs. But first, you have to beat me, right?"
As he spoke, there was a deafening bang—a massive hole appeared in Michael Chen's shoulder, blasted open by a sniper rifle. He staggered back several steps. Seizing the moment, I tore free from his grip and bolted. The window at the end of the corridor was already shattered, and I could see figures moving on the rooftop of the building opposite.
"Ethan, jump down!"
Just as I reached the window, I heard Rachel Lan's voice calling out. Looking down, I saw several strips of white silk forming a sloping ramp. Behind me, the sounds of destruction grew louder. Without hesitation, I leapt out the window.
I landed on the soft white silk and immediately began to slide down. This was the second time I'd experienced something like this—in a dream, Old Moe had once helped me escape this way. But now, it wasn't a dream.