Chapter 275

Chapter 275

Evan returned to the Sabbath Hotel and had the Maid Doll quickly pack his luggage, having already decided to leave the island that afternoon. Though order was being restored after the explosion, hidden dangers had not been completely eliminated. The arena would inevitably close for the short term, and staying any longer would only invite more trouble.

Before long, the group stepped out of the hotel with simple bags. The guards at the entrance were still maintaining order, the smell of gunpowder lingering in the air, and occasionally injured people being supported past them.

As they reached the bottom of the hotel steps, Evan’s gaze was drawn to a figure curled up against a wall not far away. It was the homeless boy Ali. He looked even more disheveled than in the morning—his hair caked with dust, his clothes torn in several places, his face smeared with black soot and dried tear streaks. He was huddled in the corner, clutching the hem of his clothes, his eyes vacant and anxious, but Xiao Ya was nowhere in sight.

A flicker of doubt crossed Evan’s mind. He signaled Cruz and the Maid Doll to wait where they were and walked toward Ali alone. “Ali?” he called softly, his tone gentle.

Ali looked up abruptly. When he saw it was Evan, his dim eyes lit up instantly, and the next moment his eyes reddened. Tears welled up uncontrollably, streaming down his dusty cheeks.

“Sir... Sir...” Ali choked out, his voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible. He struggled to his feet, staggered over, and grabbed Evan’s sleeve, shaking it desperately. “Please save Xiao Ya! She... she’s dying!”

Tears mixed with dust carved two faint streaks on his face, and his eyes were filled with despair and pleading, as if he were clutching at his last straw.

Evan’s heart tightened. He asked quickly, “Calm down, tell me slowly. What happened to Xiao Ya?”

“During the explosion, a stone fell and hit Xiao Ya...” Ali cried, his whole body trembling as he spoke haltingly. “We were hiding in an alley when suddenly a big rock fell and hit her. She passed out immediately. No matter how I called, she wouldn’t wake up, and her breathing got weaker and weaker... I couldn’t find a doctor, and I had no money. Please, sir, save her!”

“Take me to see her.” Evan responded without hesitation, his voice firm.

Ali wept with gratitude, nodded quickly, and turned to lead Evan into a narrow alley nearby. His steps were urgent and flustered, and he kept looking back to make sure Evan was following.

Cruz and the Maid Doll followed closely, scanning both sides of the alley warily to prevent any further trouble.

Deep in the dark, damp alley, piled with discarded junk, Xiao Ya lay on the cold wall corner, eyes tightly shut, her face as pale as paper. A deep gash on her forehead had already dried into crusted blood. Her chest rose and fell so faintly it was barely noticeable.

Her small hands were clenched, her brow furrowed, as if she were enduring immense pain.

Evan strode over, knelt down, and gently lifted Xiao Ya’s wrist. He channeled a trace of spirituality to probe her condition. Fortunately, it was only severe external injuries and depleted vitality—no vital organs had been damaged.

He immediately took a golden pearl the size of a pigeon’s egg from his storage ring. This pearl contained rich healing spirituality and was an emergency item Sara had specially prepared for him.

Evan placed the golden pearl on Xiao Ya’s forehead and activated his spirituality. The pearl immediately emitted a soft golden light, which slowly seeped into Xiao Ya’s body, spreading from her wound throughout her system. The dried wound gradually healed, a faint blush returned to her pale cheeks, and her weak breathing became steady.

Ali stood beside him, holding his breath, his eyes fixed on Xiao Ya, filled with tension and hope.

After a moment, the golden light faded. Xiao Ya’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, and she slowly opened her eyes. “Ali...” she called weakly, still dazed.

“Xiao Ya! You’re awake!” Ali rushed over excitedly, carefully hugging her, tears falling again—this time with joy. “Great, you’re awake! This gentleman saved you!”

Xiao Ya turned to look at Evan, gratitude shining in her eyes. She struggled to sit up and thank him, but Evan gently held her down. “Don’t move. You’ve just recovered; you still need rest.” Looking at the two children dependent on each other, his heart softened. Remembering how they had risked danger to warn him earlier, and thinking of the brutality of Prison Island, he asked gently, “Ali, Xiao Ya, would you like to leave Prison Island with me?”

Ali looked up sharply, disbelief in his eyes, then nodded vigorously, tears welling up again. “Yes! Yes! Sir, we don’t want to stay here anymore!”

Xiao Ya also nodded eagerly, her small hand gripping Ali’s sleeve, her eyes full of longing for the world outside. They had no one on Prison Island, living a precarious life. Evan’s offer was a new lease on life.

Evan smiled and signaled the Maid Doll to bring out clean clothes and pastries. “Change into clean clothes first and have something to eat. We’ll leave this afternoon for a place with no war, no hunger.”

The Maid Doll stepped forward gently, knelt down, wiped the children’s faces, and handed them the clothes and pastries. Ali and Xiao Ya took them, eating in small bites, their eyes filled with gratitude and value.

Cruz watched this, a warmth in his eyes, and said softly to Evan, “Sir, I’ll go contact the dock for a boat to ensure we can leave smoothly.”

“Good.” Evan nodded, his gaze falling on the two children. He thought to himself that perhaps this trip to Prison Island, beyond training and crisis, had brought him this unexpected reward.

The sun gradually dispersed the smoke over the island, shining into the narrow alley, illuminating the smiles on the children’s faces.

After tidying up, the group headed toward the dock and set off on their journey away from Prison Island.

The underground prison of the Night Watchmen’s stronghold was dark and damp. Water droplets condensed on the stone walls, and the air was thick with the cold, metallic smell of rust, dust, and runic wards—each breath carrying a biting chill.

Jack pushed open the heavy, frigid iron cell door. The hinges let out a dull creak as he stepped out slowly. The faint white glow from the purifying runes he had used during interrogation still clung to his fingertips; his knuckles were pale from the exertion.

He raised a hand to rub his throbbing forehead, exhaustion plain on his face, but his eyes held a lingering seriousness. Although the interrogation had yielded some initial leads—confirming that the black-clad man belonged to a secretive, shadowy supernatural organization whose core goal was to exploit the chaos of the explosion to launch a surprise raid on Blackstone Prison and break out inmates—the organization’s name, the mastermind behind it, and the identity of the specific prisoner they intended to free remained locked away. The man had clenched his teeth and refused to talk, even under the scorching pain of the purifying runes, resisting in silence.

“Captain, any breakthroughs in the interrogation?” the subordinate waiting outside the cell corridor immediately stepped forward, standing upright, lowering his voice to ask, his gaze involuntarily flickering to the closed iron door.

Jack slowly shook his head, his tone cold as ice, with a hint of impatience. “Only scraps about the organization; no core information uncovered yet. Station two more elite guards outside the cell, conduct rotating two-person interrogations, and equip them with third-tier Truth Runes. We must break his mouth before dark—don’t give him any chance to resist.”

“Yes, sir!” the subordinate answered firmly, not daring to delay, and immediately turned to arrange the subsequent guard and interrogation tasks.

Just as Jack was about to turn and head to the command center to check the progress of clearing remaining bombs and bringing escaped prisoners back into custody, another Night Watchman responsible for global surveillance hurried over. He carried a folded brief in his hand, his steps quick but orderly. He stopped before Jack, bowed, and spoke respectfully: “Captain, we just received a message from the dock monitor: Mr. Silver Shadow has boarded a fast boat with two homeless children heading for First Island. The boat has already left Prison Island waters and is heading toward First Island.”

At this, the tight corners of Jack’s mouth lifted slightly into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. It carried a sense of relief and an understanding that things had gone as expected.

He had guessed early on that Evan would leave as soon as possible. After all, the island’s situation was still unstable, residual dangers were still being cleared, and the man was simply a confidant of the Governor undergoing training here. There was no reason for him to stay in this muddy water and take unnecessary risks. “Understood.” Jack’s tone was flat. He raised a hand casually and waved it, a hint of weariness in his gesture. “Recall the people who were tailing him; no need to follow anymore. Everyone focus on their own tasks and wrap up the clean-up.”

The subordinate respectfully acknowledged: “Yes, I’ll notify them via communication rune to return immediately and join the bomb inspection efforts.” Then he turned and left to relay the orders quickly.

Once the subordinate had left, Jack instantly dropped the smile, resuming his usual solemn expression, his aura growing heavier.

Without delay, he strode briskly toward the command center, passing many busy Night Watchmen—some carrying rune detectors toward inspection points, others carrying the injured toward medical stations. Everyone was working diligently.

Jack raised a hand to gesture to a passing Night Watchman and said in a heavy voice: “Speed up bomb clearance, focus on the outer walls of Blackstone Prison and the underground passages. Do not leave a single risk. Also, contact the temporary medical station on the island to arrange physical examinations for the homeless children. Compile their numbers and identities, then immediately contact the Imperial Civil Affairs Department for proper placement. No omissions.” The Night Watchmen stopped, bowed, and replied, then quickened their pace to return to their busy work.

Meanwhile, out on the blue sea beyond Prison Island, the fast boat carrying Evan sped toward First Island, the sails billowing as it cut through the waves, leaving white spray in its wake.

Ali and Xiao Ya had washed the dirt from their faces, changed into clean clothes prepared by the Maid Doll, and were now leaning over the ship’s railing, small hands gripping the rail tightly, watching the shrinking, smoke-veiled outline of Prison Island with eyes full of release from the past and hope for the future. Evan leaned against the outer railing of the cabin, his fingers lightly stroking the Aryan Empire insignia in his storage ring—the cold metallic touch calming his thoughts. On his shoulder, the Blood-eyed Raven lazily preened its glossy black feathers, its red eyes occasionally scanning the surrounding sea for any hint of danger. The tautness in Evan’s body gradually eased as he fully shed the vigilance he had maintained on Prison Island.

The fast boat raced across the sea, leaving a long line of water behind, like a silver thread cutting through the ocean, leaving the chaos of Prison Island, the smoke of the explosion, and the lurking dangers far behind.