Let's rewind time a bit.
Back in the fighters’ hall, Donald Zade hissed, "Bloody Queen, are you... laughing?" While everyone’s eyes were on the Bloody Queen, a slip of paper was quietly slipped into the Manager’s hand. The Manager glanced at it discreetly—one line: "Stick to the plan, get their attention—trust me."
Trust you? Fine, let’s do this—I trust you completely!
So, the Manager subtly adjusted his voice and switched up his personality. He made himself sound just like a proper manager—always running around fixing problems—and picked up a bit of his boss’s attitude: "Someone brings money, of course Her Majesty the Queen smiles."
As a Super Soldier charged at the Manager with a knife, a tiny, transparent Crystal Sand flicked from Phantom Mask’s hand, hitting the Manager’s back. Instantly, the Manager’s hands shot out like lightning, blocking the attack with ease...
The second Crystal Sand—Manager spun around on his heel...
The third Crystal Sand—Manager swung his arms and hurled the Super Soldier over his shoulder, hard...
Phantom Mask sat in the front row, just steps from the ring. During the fight, Crystal Sand kept popping up at critical moments. Whenever the Manager was hit by one, it was like he’d been blessed by the gods—he’d pull off some miraculous move and take down another Super Soldier with ease. He’d kick the loser’s body off the stage, and while he was at it, used the corpse like a mop to sweep the Crystal Sand away.
Nobody noticed the Crystal Sand at all.
Finally, Donald Zade called a halt and had his men escort Phantom Mask and his crew away. The three were first led to a lavish lounge, then Phantom Mask was taken off solo. The Manager and Bloody Queen stayed in the lounge—cameras in the room, guards in black outside the door. They didn’t do much, just quietly waited. Time ticked by, and the Manager kept checking his watch.
Five minutes later, the two suddenly stood up. The Manager ripped off his mask—turns out, it was Jonathan Black. And the Bloody Queen? She whipped off her cloak, just like a creepy uncle meeting a little girl. Underneath her baggy clothes: guns, grenades, explosives—you name it, she had it.
"Time's up—let's roll!" Jonathan grabbed a submachine gun and kicked open the lounge door. Bang bang—two shots, two guards down before they could even react. Jonathan, face full of murder, charged out.
Instantly, alarms blared—the whole base went into lockdown. Armed troops swarmed in from every direction, ready to squash these two clueless bugs.
Well, maybe just one bug—because Sophie Chow was basically useless. A burst of bullets came from deep in the hallway, sending chips of wall flying. "Boss!" Sophie ducked and covered, yelling, "I want to help, but honestly, just not dying is already a huge achievement!"
"Perfect! Our whole mission is just to survive!" Jonathan tossed a grenade—the angle and timing were wicked, and it blew up a whole squad. While the chaos spread, Jonathan swapped mags, grabbed Sophie Chow, and hauled her off: "Go! Keep moving! Staying alive means staying on the move!"
"Why don't we just hole up somewhere?" Sophie shouted as she ran, clutching her head. "If we keep running, how's Jack Young supposed to find us?"
"There’s way too many of them—we can’t hold out! Besides," Jonathan kicked open a door and dove into another corridor, "Jack Young said he could find us, so he’ll find us. Trust him!"
Earlier, Jack Young and Jonathan Black had cooked up a bunch of battle plans, but none of them actually got used. After all, no one knew how things would really go down. But Jack Young did have one idea—he’d pretend to be Phantom Mask. After all, if you want to kidnap Donald Zade, you gotta get close. Compared to a fighter, the boss is the one who calls the shots and is more likely to meet Donald.
And once things kicked off, Jonathan and Sophie shouldn’t think it’s all over just because Jack Young snatched Donald Zade. Even if Jack managed to grab Donald, it didn’t mean the other side would just give up. On the contrary, anyone with real military chops would go all out to catch Jonathan and Sophie alive. By then, both sides would have hostages, things would get stuck, and the ones with fewer people would end up losing.
So, after setting a time, all Jonathan and Sophie had to do was strike first, then run for their lives, and keep surviving.
"Trust me, I'll grab that flashy guy and find you." Jack Young patted Jonathan Black on the shoulder. Seeing Jack's serious face, Jonathan just nodded—he believed him, and stuck to the plan.
In the middle of the firefight, Jonathan fought and moved. Those Candied Pork Cutlets Jack left behind seemed to have unlocked some secret power in him—he’d been eating them for ages, and now he was tougher than ever.
Meanwhile, a blur zipped down the hallway—it was Jack Young. He still wore the Devil Mask, and had Donald Zade slung over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Donald had taken Super Soldier drugs too, and had the strength of the Titan Spirit Method’s second level. Objectively, he was even tougher than a Super Soldier, which was part of his twisted pride. But right now, he was just a toy for Jack to toss around.
Jack didn’t bother with restraints. If Donald tried to fight back, Jack would just whack him with the butt of his gun—knocking the wind out of him and leaving big lumps on his head.
At this point, Jack was sprinting through the hallway, firing his pistol as he ran. Even with the big boss as his hostage, he didn’t waste time threatening random enemies—he had to move fast.
Following the path back, Jack quickly reached the lounge where Jonathan and Sophie had been. Now, the place was trashed—the fancy door looked like Swiss cheese, half of it dangling from the frame. Jonathan was long gone, but Jack had his own way to track them.
Gunfire from deep in the hallway was a clear signpost, but Jack had another great tracking trick—his nose.
He sniffed around and instantly picked up their scent. Jack’s Lunmai Technique had opened up to the sixth chakra—the Third Eye Chakra. Now, his last sense—smell—was superhuman. To put it bluntly, Jack had the eyes of an eagle, the ears of a bat, and the nose of a dog. If he wanted to track someone, good luck escaping.
Jack raced down the hallway, getting closer to the firefight. His right hand kept firing, and with a slick move, he swapped mags one-handed like a pro. Jack rounded a corner and yelled, "Everybody freeze!"
The place went dead quiet. Countless armed fighters aimed their guns at Jack—just one guy, one gun, but that barrel was pointed right at Donald Zade’s forehead.
If you’re gonna threaten someone, do it face-to-face—threatening a guy you can’t see or find is pointless. That’s why Black Dragon Village’s Shi Heilong could only stare helplessly. But now, these soldiers had no choice but to play along.
Jack held up Donald, saying nothing, just striding boldly toward the embattled room. Once inside, he checked the situation, then shouted outside, "Clear out! If anyone’s within two hundred meters, I’ll kill ‘em!"
Everyone glanced around—nobody moved.
The next instant, a grenade flew out from inside, landing smack in the middle of the crowd. Boom—a bunch of people died, blood and guts everywhere. The rest, gritting their teeth, had no choice but to back off. With Donald’s life in Jack’s hands, they couldn’t risk a counterattack.
Inside, Sophie Chow looked at Jack like he was her savior. Jonathan Black glared at Donald Zade as if he were his worst enemy. Jack tossed Donald to the floor and finally had time to take off the Devil Mask. "Now," Jack looked down at Donald, "we can actually talk, right?"
Jonathan growled and kicked Donald in the face, then grabbed his hair and shouted, "Spill everything you know!"
Donald spat out blood, but then started laughing like a madman, gasping for breath as if he’d just heard the world’s funniest joke. Meanwhile, in the storage room, a honeycomb-shaped box hissed as pressurized air burst out—the lid popped open. With a clatter, steel claws unlocked. Old Veteran opened his eyes, green light growing stronger, and green veins bulged on his skin, looking downright monstrous.
The plug in the back of his head popped out a bit more. He twitched, shook his head, his neck crackling, then took off running.