Chapter 39 Let Him Go

Chapter 39: Let Him Go

Only Fang Ran was awake inside the tent.

Sweat beaded on his face, and the neural pathways in his Spiritual Sea felt tangled. He raised a trembling hand to cover his still-throbbing forehead.

Could Fu Zhangzhou be behind this chaos?

Impossible.

He instinctively dismissed the notion.

Could it be an attack by a nearby beast horde?

But wasn’t there a barrier around the camp’s perimeter?

Fang Ran glanced at the others; all lay motionless, seemingly in a deep sleep.

The light inside the tent was dim.

Not daring to make a sound, he forcefully nudged the person beside him.

The person’s face, originally buried in the sleeping bag, emerged with the shaking.

It was too dark for Fang Ran to tell if their complexion was unusual.

But the person’s expression was clearly pained, eyelids twitching constantly, as if struggling to awaken but unable to find a way out.

It didn’t look like sleep at all—more like a nightmare.

Something wasn’t right.

Though most Guides lacked combat ability, their mental power was formidable.

They were usually unaffected by alcohol.

Yet now, they seemed drugged and unconscious.

"Thud! Thud!"

The noise outside grew louder.

Startled, Fang Ran looked up and realized the scent of pagoda tree flowers still lingered in the air, seemingly even stronger than before he fell asleep.

And mixed with it was a hint of...

Blood!

Fang Ran’s eyes widened, his heart racing wildly.

Only one thought remained in his mind:

The chaos was drawing nearer.

Hunched over, he crept cautiously to the tent flap and quietly lifted a corner.

An even stronger wave of pagoda tree flower scent washed over him.

The scene outside instantly tightened his chest.

It was utter pandemonium.

By the light of the campfire, he saw a group of masked Sentinels frantically attacking guards throughout the camp.

Various anomalous energies rampaged above and below, the outer barrier had been destroyed and collapsed, and the entire temporary camp was in turmoil.

What confused Fang Ran more was that the situation seemed almost one-sided.

The Sentinels guarding the center clearly staggered, their expressions pained. They gritted their teeth, resisting, but seemed unable to exert their full strength, retreating step by step.

What was happening?

Fang Ran’s heart pounded. Several shadowy figures took advantage of the chaos and slipped into a tent ahead.

There were Guides inside that tent too.

Could their target be...

He couldn’t help but frown.

In this post-apocalyptic world, there was a consensus, clearly stated in the Sentinel-Guide Agreement, that attacking and abducting Guides was both taboo and a grave crime.

How dare these people?

The shadowy figures soon emerged empty-handed; clearly, their target wasn’t inside.

In a flash, they darted in Fang Ran’s direction.

Fang Ran’s heart raced frantically, blood rushing to his head. He abruptly dropped the tent flap, covered his mouth, and lay on the ground, not daring to breathe.

Someone outside seemed to intercept them.

The person shouted loudly, "You bunch of..."

The voice sounded muffled to Fang Ran, but he recognized it as the A-Class Sentry from earlier that evening.

The shadows from the fight danced across the tent canvas.

Fang Ran closed his eyes, his heart hammering, silently praying that the Sentry could defeat those evil figures in black.

But after a few dull thuds, the Sentry fell silent.

The footsteps drew closer again.

Fang Ran’s tension reached its peak.

Fu Zhangzhou...

The name flashed through his mind.

Where had that madman gone?

He couldn’t just wait to die!

With a determined glint in his eyes, Fang Ran bent down and slowly groped for the backpack beside his sleeping bag.

For their safety, the Center had issued tranquilizer guns before the mission began.

The drugs inside were developed for large anomalous animals, but of course, they could also take down Sentinels.

But just as he touched the barrel, the entire tent suddenly tilted, and a fierce wind tore open the door flap.

A voice from behind made his blood run cold.

"Found you."

......

Fang Ran's hand trembled as he quickly pressed a button on the barrel.

A slender syringe ejected swiftly and slipped under his sleeve.

Perhaps the light was too dim, or maybe he was just lucky.

The men standing outside the entrance didn't notice his subtle movement.

"Turn around!"

One of the Sentinels barked.

The tent was already on the verge of collapse. To avoid involving others, Fang Ran raised his hands and slowly turned around.

A strong light shone directly into his face.

Fang Ran squinted and instinctively raised a hand to block it.

The Sentinel who had ordered him to turn grabbed his jaw firmly and checked his face against a picture on his terminal.

"It's him."

These Sentinels wore standard-issue black combat suits without any insignia. But their face masks were strange, covered in concentric patterns like tree rings.

Fang Ran glanced down, working his jaw slightly. The pain brought tears to his eyes.

Their target was him.

He was just an ordinary C-class Guide.

Why would they go to such lengths to attack the Center's camp?

"Move out."

The man shoved him hard in the shoulder.

Caught off guard, Fang Ran stumbled out of the tent, nearly falling to the ground.

"Cooperate," the distorted voice above him said, "we don't want to harm a Guide."

In his fear, Fang Ran tried to hide his hands behind his back.

The Sentinel stared at him as if seeing right through his thoughts.

"Hand it over."

His voice, distorted by the mask, was sharp like scraping metal.

An indescribable sense of eeriness.

Every hair on Fang Ran’s body stood on end. Reluctantly, he pulled out his terminal from behind.

The Sentinel let out a sharp, mocking laugh and knocked the terminal from his hand.

With a *crack*, the screen shattered under a boot, and the device split in two.

"No more tricks."

Fang Ran lowered his head, feigning fear.

At least the anesthetic needle in his sleeve remained undiscovered...

For whatever reason, these people hadn't tried to harm him yet.

Someone else produced a plastic restraint, roughly blindfolding him and tying his hands.

His world went dark.

The fear of the unknown made his heart race and his throat dry, as if hands were around his throat.

The world spun as he was hauled over someone’s shoulder.

Soon, the sound of rushing wind filled his ears.

The person carrying him leapt across the terrain at astonishing speed.

The violent jostling left Fang Ran dizzy and disoriented, completely losing his sense of direction.

All he could sense was that they were far from the camp.

Anxiety twisted in his gut.

Fu Zhangzhou...

For some reason, the name surfaced in his mind again.

Fang Ran gave a bitter smile. Would that man even find him?

He bit the tip of his tongue hard. The taste of blood spread instantly, and the pain cleared his head.

Wishful thinking wouldn't help now—finding a way to escape was what mattered.

These Sentinels possessed the ability to leap and hover, indicating they were all A-class or higher.

A Guide had almost no chance against Sentinels.

Besides, he only had one anesthetic needle...

Suddenly, the Sentinel carrying him halted and veered sharply, jumping upward.

A moment later, a violent gust swept through where they had just been, tearing up vegetation and whipping up dust.

Fang Ran choked, coughing uncontrollably.

The Sentinel carrying him tensed, snapping to high alert and constantly changing direction as if anticipating an attack.

A spark of hope ignited in Fang Ran’s heart, and a suspicion began to form.

Was it possible...

"Put him down."