#328. I Can't Die Here.
Gwan Hong headed to the address printed on the business card the bar owner had given him.
The location was a large rental warehouse divided into above-ground and underground sections. There was no need to seek out anyone for guidance. It was a self-service system where you could freely store and retrieve items from your own unit.
Gwan Hong found the warehouse number indicated below the address on the card. It was underground. As he descended in the open iron-frame elevator, a vast space came into view, lined with countless containers stretching into the distance.
Even underground, the ceiling was high, and some units were stacked two or three stories tall.
He navigated the maze-like paths and arrived at his destination.
“B-27. Here it is.”
The warehouse door had an electronic lock. Gwan Hong couldn't help but smirk in disbelief at the sight.
A spy who's supposed to be security-conscious? Leaving a set worth over five million yuan in such a sloppy place.
He punched in the code and entered. Flicking the wall switch lit up the rusty halogen bulbs.
Under the yellow light, the floor was scattered with parts for No. 3 gear sets by position, while shelves held ampoule kits neatly arranged by type.
As a fugitive, Gwan Hong skipped heavy armor. Instead, he chose a leather vest that covered just the chest and abdomen.
Over it, he threw on a brown armor coat without any affiliation markings, pulled on gloves made from tanned ogre hide, and selected boots reinforced with gate metal only on the toes and heels.
Around his waist, he buckled a belt designed to hold an ampoule kit and sword.
For his weapon, he picked a longsword with a good weight balance. He hid a dagger in his ankle holster and tucked several throwing knives into his inner pockets.
Finally, he sheathed two slightly long daggers—too big for mere knives—behind his waist, completing his armament.
“Alright, time to grab an ampoule kit...”
The moment his hand reached for the shelf, Gwan Hong sensed killing intent from outside the warehouse. Abandoning the kit, he dropped flat to the floor.
No sooner had he done so than the warehouse wall exploded, an arrow whistling over his head. That was the signal—dozens more arrows rained down.
Gwan Hong grabbed nearby metal armor and a shield to shield himself as best he could. The arrows were infused with mana, so he had to draw on his own to defend.
This could drag on. Can't waste mana.
Thud! Clang! Thunk!
Dozens of arrows embedded deeply in the shield and the warehouse's inner walls, suggesting a piercing skill effect.
Chase team. Primary weapon: bow. Piercing skill.
From those three facts, Gwan Hong identified his attackers.
Huanglong Guild's tracking squad.
Specifically, the Black Killer Squad composed of rangers.
Most of their hunters wielded bows and melee weapons, were agile, and possessed mobility and detection skills.
These guys will keep shooting until my mana runs dry. They finish from range and only check afterward.
Having pinpointed their identity, Gwan Hong felt a spark of anger.
Even if I've been away from the field, sending these cowards after me? Who do they think I am?
Gwan Hong was A+-rank.
Unlike his public image as a brainiac strategist, he was a battle-hardened veteran.
Before becoming his guild's strategy chief, he'd fought Russian hunters in the Makyung.
Misjudging his capabilities meant whoever planned this chase didn't know his full record.
Or they're underestimating me.
He recalled the newly appointed commander of Huanglong Guild's operations unit.
Operations Deputy Director Zhao Kerji.
A capable hunter who'd risen through achievements across regions, earning his star in Beijing after just three years.
But to Gwan Hong, he was a rank-inflated rookie.
Excelling in monster hunts didn't translate well to these intrigue-filled battles.
Zhao Kerji's victories over inland rival guilds were just accumulated small skirmishes.
Laughable to a veteran like Gwan Hong who'd seen it all.
If they wanted to hit me, they should've done it with full force. Nibbling at the edges? They think they can take me anytime?
Gwan Hong stacked the battered shield and armor in front of him, concentrating his mana.
Then he charged, bulldozing through the tattered warehouse wall.
Crash!
“Block him!”
Someone's order grazed his ear, followed by the whistle of arrows from behind. A few lodged in his forward shield, but posed no real threat.
Like a bulldozer, Gwan Hong barreled into the hunter directly ahead. The man, mid-switch to a dagger, offered no resistance and tumbled across the floor with a choked gasp.
Gwan Hong crushed the fallen hunter's throat underfoot, spun half around, and hurled his shield leftward.
The mana-infused edge sliced through a ranger mid-draw, severing his waist.
He followed by tossing the half-destroyed armor right, disrupting hunters preparing to counter.
The Black Killer Squad stowed their bows—friendlies were in the crossfire. With Gwan Hong in the center of their encirclement, they moved to form their prepared wheel formation.
But the rank gap between Gwan Hong and the squad was vast.
He became a wolf among sheep. Drawing the longsword from his back, he charged one side of the encirclement recklessly.
Normally, you'd avoid charging a forming net, as your back would be exposed.
That common sense led to their complacency.
They swung at the wildly lunging Gwan Hong without coordinated breaths, but it was futile. Heads rolled like apples in autumn harvest.
The squad was helpless, soon retreating hesitantly without proper attacks.
Overwhelmed by his onslaught.
As squad members died pointlessly, their leader from the rear roared like a lion.
“Damn it! Get out of the way! I'll handle him!”
Gwan Hong instantly recalled the charging leader.
Zha Qinglin? A pain-in-the-ass guy's here.
Black Killer Squad Leader Zha Qinglin.
A+-rank like Gwan Hong, but active in China's northwest, unlike his own Makyung exploits.
Come to think of it, his main turf was Xinjiang Uyghur.
Gwan Hong suspected Zha Qinglin might have defected to Mirage too.
“Gwan Hong, Gwan Hong—they weren't kidding. Haven't run the field in ages, but you could jump right back in.”
Zha Qinglin approached with a long-handled backsword slung over his shoulder, blade tip wobbling up and down.
The backsword looked like a thug's blade at a glance: handle long enough for two hands with room to spare, blade nearing 2 meters, thick enough that non-hunters couldn't swing it freely—heavy stuff.
Doesn't fit the Black Killer Squad at all. Putting a hunter mismatched to the unit's style in charge explains their state.
Of course, fortunate staffing for Gwan Hong.
Had he led them, he wouldn't charge head-on in tight quarters.
He'd ambush from outside once Gwan Hong reached open ground without cover.
Scoffing inwardly at Zha Qinglin's folly, Gwan Hong lost all composure at the next words.
“Everyone, fall back. I'll duel the great Gwan Hong one-on-one.”
“You an idiot? Or just crazy?”
“Why? I'm offering a fair fight. Scared? The famed Gwan Hong?”
“Ha? Huanglong's got a moron like this? Embarrassing. Feels like HQ dragged in a brain-melted wild boar as a hunter. Xinjiang water must turn people stupid.”
“What? Wild boar? Idiot?!!!”
“Weapon's as dumb as you—thick and oversized. Here to hunt monsters?”
“You bastard!”
Zha Qinglin couldn't stomach the taunt.
Hunters from Makyung had long dismissed the Uyghur faction. He'd vowed to crush them with skill someday—and now faced their pinnacle, Gwan Hong.
This punk dares mock me?! Fine, I'll smash that mouth first.
Zha Qinglin's backsword rose to ceiling height.
“Hup!”
But he couldn't strike. A thrown knife forced him to dodge, turning his head.
Gwan Hong exploited the gap. His thrust targeted Zha Qinglin's throat.
“Hmph! Cheap trick!”
Zha Qinglin snorted, twisting his shoulder. His pauldron deflected the blade tip backward.
Gwan Hong had waited for this, surging mana into the sword. The smooth mana edge turned jagged saw-like, shredding the pauldron.
Startled, Zha Qinglin hurled himself forward, rolling away. With agility belying his bulk, he distanced himself, raising the backsword defensively.
“Nice dodge. Guess you didn't snag that spot with mahjong.”
Gwan Hong gloated, but Zha Qinglin didn't retort. He glanced at his severed pauldron—blood trickled from the back, soaking his armor.
A split-second later, and shoulder-to-arm would've gone.
Lucky it was just a flashy bleed, not fatal.
Gwan Hong taunted the grim-faced Zha Qinglin again.
“Why so quiet? Where's that confidence? Seeing blood wake you up? Regretting the challenge?”
“That the famed Gwan Hong signature move, Saw Blade?”
“You read too many wuxia novels. Getting boring. Just die.”
Immense mana—far more than before—coated Gwan Hong's sword. The mana blade morphed into saw teeth, then spun like a chainsaw.
Dazzled by the rotation, Zha Qinglin grinned and raised his backsword.
“Today, I'll break that skill and claim your fame.”
Crimson-black aura surged from the backsword, enveloping it into an inky greatsword.
Gwan Hong planned to bisect Zha Qinglin with one strike and flee.
But he revised that immediately.
Ominous presences stirred around them.
Danger.
A spear of light plummeted from above.
Gwan Hong parried. Heavy impact. A beat slower, and he'd have been pushed back.
The deflected spear flew sideways, smashing over a dozen containers.
“Who is it?! Who's interrupting my duel?!”
Zha Qinglin bellowed furiously.
A soft female voice responded to his roar.
“Interrupting? We're on mission.”
Zha Qinglin scowled at the voice.
“Trouble just arrived.”
“Liu Xishi...”
Gwan Hong blurted her name.
“Oh? Gwan Hong recognizes me. I'm honored.”
Liu Xishi extended her hand toward the wrecked trailer. A buried spear burst free, flying back to her grasp.
Gwan Hong's face soured.
Even the Whirlpool Spear's owner? They've come prepared.
Blue Killer Squad Leader Liu Xishi.
A+-rank like them, famed for her Whirlpool Spear that returned from anywhere within 1km.
“Of course I know. You're famous. Like Zhu Bajie eating ginseng from Immortality Peach and not savoring it? A unique item doesn't suit you.”
Gwan Hong's jab invoked the Chinese idiom hulhwae-eo—a pearl necklace on a pig.
Mocking her unworthiness for the unique spear.
“What can I do? Family's loaded, so I use stuff like this.”
Despite the insult, Liu Xishi stayed unruffled.
Her father was a top Chinese tycoon, grandfather a high Communist official, mother a Huanglong executive.
As their only child, she'd gained the unique item under power, wealth, and connections.
She took pride in it.
“Greetings over. Let's wrap this up, Gwan Hong.”
“Gwan Hong's mine!”
Zha Qinglin and Liu Xishi charged together.
Gwan Hong faced them, sensing the day would stretch far longer than expected.
Plan's barely started. I can't die here.
Past midnight.
Kang Moo-hyuk summoned Thomas alone.
He handed over a square case—flat, made of aged wood with vivid grain. It resembled a jewelry box for engagement rings.
Thomas recognized it.
“Eting Tree?”
“Yes. It holds something important.”
Eting Tree.
A tree that fed on mana to grow. The land it sprouted on soon turned barren.
It absorbed all natural energies, uprooted, and moved. Anything hindering its mana intake was demolished.
Classified as plant, but a monster to most. A jackpot for hunters, of course.
“Important enough to seal mana leaks?”
“Open it.”
Kang Moo-hyuk slid the case to Thomas.
Thomas opened it carefully. Inside lay a medal etched with strange runes and a magic circle—rusted, ancient-looking.
Unappealing to non-collectors, but Thomas saw the intricate mana structure glowing within.
A beautiful, precise mana construct.
He stared, entranced.
“This is...”
“Pandit Talisman. Unique item for mages. Traits and manual are under the case.”
Thomas marveled anew at Kang Moo-hyuk casually handing over a unique item—a mage-exclusive one—like a luxury warranty card.
Can you just acquire these on demand? Even top US guilds can't.
Whatever the source—skill or luck—it was extraordinary.
Kang Moo-hyuk continued even more calmly, boldly.
“If combat breaks out, expose this item upfront. Make sure everyone knows it's unique.”
“Expose a unique? No guild shows theirs off.”
“Exactly. Show the unique to hide something more vital.”
“More vital...? My rank...”
“Yes. We'll conceal Hunter Thomas. Enemies will chalk your power to unique doping. No one expects an S-rank to drop from the sky.”