Chapter Fifty-Three: Spirit Stones

All of this unfolded in the blink of an eye.

The van hadn’t turned on its headlights, hidden in darkness just like Zhou Yi, and its sudden movement left him flustered. Ever since meeting Fatty in the last world, Zhou Yi had considered him a brother, a companion—someone to whom he could entrust his back. If anything happened to Fatty, the outcome of Zhou Yi’s mission would lose all meaning.

He kept his headlights off and sped after the van. Meng Xiaojiao was either a master of disguise, deceiving their earlier interrogation, or this was the period of amnesia she had mentioned—perhaps she was the hunter herself.

Zhou Yi was tense, clinging desperately to the van’s trail, but he didn’t dare rush in directly. There were at least three people in the van: Fatty, Meng Xiaojiao, and the driver. Zhou Yi was alone, and as for those monitoring Cheng Zhi, they were too far to help. Even if they arrived, they wouldn’t be much use.

The vehicles darted through traffic, and as they drove, the surroundings grew increasingly desolate. At a red light, Zhou Yi grabbed his watch, pressing and shaking it furiously, shouting into it.

“Sophia, Sophia! Base! Is anyone there? I need backup! Can’t you give me some response, idiot?”

The watch remained a watch, its control panel refusing to rise. Zhou Yi slammed his palm down on the steering wheel in frustration. The light turned green; he had no time to dwell, flooring the gas to catch up.

After more than ten minutes, Zhou Yi followed the van to a wasteland—a site once invested in by a Hong Kong businessman, meant for a commercial center. But with funding issues, the project had stalled for two years and was now unattended.

The block was pitch dark, not a single light. Zhou Yi dared not drive forward; entering here, the sound of tires crunching on rubble would be loud, and if the others had already gotten out, they’d easily hear him.

He parked in a hidden spot and got out, orienting himself by moonlight as he cautiously moved forward. The van had turned off ahead, but which building it had entered was unclear.

He circled to what passed for an intersection. The ground, once snow-covered, had thawed and refrozen, creating a slick surface where the moonlight reflected and tire tracks showed signs of skidding. Zhou Yi ran in the direction indicated by the tracks, spotting the van parked in the distance. He pressed close to an unfinished building, slowing his steps.

Most of the ground was a mass of frozen, broken bricks and dirt—easy to trip over if careless. Despite his urgency, he knew he had to make no sound; attracting attention would not only ruin any chance of saving Fatty but put his own life at risk.

Zhou Yi crept beside the van, checking if anyone was inside. Moving closer, he peered through the window. The back seat held a rope and a wooden stick; the engine was still running, proof they didn’t plan to stay long.

He glanced at the nearby unfinished building. By moonlight, he could see an entrance—stairs open and unblocked. On the third floor, a faint light glimmered.

Zhou Yi hurried up, stopping just before the third floor to look ahead. This floor was open, interrupted only by a scattering of columns. The light he’d spotted came from an area cordoned off with plastic sheeting, and silhouettes moved inside. Zhou Yi crouched lower, trying to stay hidden.

The people inside seemed to be talking, but he was too far to hear clearly. He studied the column layout—spaced every ten meters or so, evenly distributed. This was the southern side of the cross-shaped building, with open space on all sides. Beyond the stairs beneath him, there was another staircase opposite. Zhou Yi stepped forward, slipping slightly and nearly falling. He bent down, pressing his palm to the step, discovering a fallen iron rod—likely a piece of abandoned scaffolding.

It could also have been left deliberately, a trap to deter pursuit. Zhou Yi set the rod aside and looked around. Not far to his right, another iron rod lay over a meter long. Zhou Yi picked it up, testing its weight, and then hurried to the nearest column.

Moving from column to column, Zhou Yi drew ever closer to the light. His heartbeat quickened.

Three figures became clearer. Fatty was tied to a chair; a man and a woman stood on either side. The conversation grew audible.

Meng Xiaojiao’s voice was the first to reach his ears.

“Don’t tell me you’re a cop. I’ve checked—there’s no such person as you. Who sent you, or what’s your identity? Is that Teacher Xing your accomplice?”

Fatty didn’t speak, only raising his eyes to Meng Xiaojiao. The tall man beside him rushed forward and punched Fatty in the belly.

Fatty seemed in agony, mouth open but unable to catch his breath.

“Ha! You’re pretty stubborn. No matter, I can keep you company for a while if you want a beating.”

Fatty spat, lifting his gaze to Meng Xiaojiao. His cheek bore the mark of a slap; clearly, the beating hadn’t just begun.

“I’m not a cop, true enough. You made enemies, and I’m just the guy paid to clean up messes. Didn’t expect you to be so ruthless, little miss. I’m caught today, so do as you please.”

Seeing Fatty finally speak, Meng Xiaojiao gestured to the man, who stepped back, standing respectfully to the side.

“Answer my question. Is Teacher Xing one of your group?”

Fatty grinned.

“Yes, we’re all together. I’ve hired everyone from your school. Impressive, right?”

Meng Xiaojiao gritted her teeth. The man started forward, but she held up a hand to stop him. Fatty shook his head and continued.

“Actually, we’re not after you specifically. Your father’s influential and needs cash, so we naturally target people like you. Easy pickings, right?”

Meng Xiaojiao narrowed her eyes, pulling Fatty’s collar.

“We? So it’s not just me?”

Fatty shook his head.

“Of course not. We go after any big shot with a dirty background.”

“Who else do you know?”

Fatty blinked.

“If I tell you, will you let me go?”

Meng Xiaojiao folded her arms and nodded slightly.

“If I’m satisfied, I’ll let you go.”

Fatty grinned at her.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know Cheng Zhi’s current girlfriend. They’re doing pretty well despite the age gap. She’s not much to look at, but you’re even better. If I had to say, she’s got more going for her, though, right?”

Fatty’s words provoked Meng Xiaojiao. She slapped him, her face dark and her fingers trembling as she glared at him.

“The relationship between us isn’t something you can understand. I’ve changed my mind now. Since you don’t want to talk, Qiangzi, hang him outside on the stairs. Strip his clothes and let him feel the temperature here.”

With that, the man rushed over, tearing Fatty’s clothes off. His pale flesh was exposed to the chill, and he shivered uncontrollably.

Meng Xiaojiao watched with interest as the man pushed Fatty outside, tied a rope to his feet, and then stepped back. With a sharp tug, the rope snapped taut, and Fatty hung head-down outside the stairwell.

Zhou Yi pressed his lips together. At this height, in these temperatures, Fatty wouldn’t last long.

He gripped the iron rod, eyeing the man. If he acted, it would have to be after the man finished tying the rope securely; otherwise, Fatty would plummet.

When the rope was secure, Meng Xiaojiao approached, holding a small knife. She waved the man away.

“Go wait in the car. I’ll have a last word with him.”

The driver obeyed, lighting the plastic screen they’d been standing beside, which crackled as it burned. Then he went downstairs, and Zhou Yi heard the car door close below. Meng Xiaojiao finally relaxed, swinging her legs as she walked up to Fatty.

“No need to hide anything from me. What you said might fool ordinary people in this world, but it’s meaningless to me. I know you’re from the base. I believe they told you—every world has hunters who hunt your kind, right?

I am a hunter. Tell me, why did you come to this world? Are you just here to capture awakened ones, or are you after spirit stones?”