Chapter 52: Chapter 52: Dylan Is on the Run Again Today

The lead-colored clouds hung low, and a few claps of thunder echoed from the sky.

A black-robed figure squatted next to a corpse severed in two, roughly tearing open the bag with dry fingers.

After rummaging through, the black-robed figure grabbed the last half of the bag and violently shook it, dumping everything onto the muddy ground.

Other attackers also gathered around, emptying the contents of the other three bags.

Eight black-robed figures crouched on the ground, carefully searching as if looking for soybeans in a pile of rice.

However, they never found what they were looking for.

The figure in the center impatiently crushed a crystal in hand, causing the others to back away, unsure if avoiding the flying shards or their leader’s fury.

“No… no… nothing, nothing! Why is there nothing?”

The suppressed voice carried anger, yet the words were not in any human language.

“The intel must be correct, these lowly humans couldn’t have noticed anything strange so quickly, something’s definitely off!”

“My lord,” a black-robed figure beside him cautiously suggested, “Could it be on the bodies?”

“Then what are you wasting time here for? Go search them quickly!”

“Yes, yes!” Several black-robed figures scattered in fear, going to check the other three bodies.

Ten minutes later, all the attackers returned to the initial ambush site, staring at the bloodstained arrow on the ground.

The leader picked up the arrow, murmuring, “Aivina?”

One of the black-robed figures immediately knelt down, hastily defending, “Lord Lacus, I swear that arrow pierced his heart!”

“Then how do you explain this?” The arrow was held against Aivina’s forehead, as if ready to stab at any second.

Aivina didn’t dare move, only trembling as she pleaded for a chance:

“It… it must be that he had some other life-saving method; I can track him! Please allow me to redeem myself, my lord!”

After a brief but suffocating silence, the arrow sank into the mud before Aivina.

“Chase! If you don’t retrieve what the higher-ups want, prepare to become livestock.”

Upon hearing “livestock,” not only Aivina but the other black-robed figures shivered, hastily replying:

“Yes!”

————

The drizzle pattered into the forest, Dylan’s shoes sinking into piles of decayed leaves, each step lifting viscous mud.

He leaned against a large tree, bending over and panting, trying to calm his heaving chest.

After running madly for over ten minutes, his physical strength was almost exhausted.

Becoming a half-mushroom person hadn’t improved his attributes, though his heart didn’t seem to hurt much anymore.

No sounds could be heard from behind; perhaps he had already shaken off those attackers, or maybe they hadn’t even noticed him escaping?

Dylan found a sheltered slope, planning to take refuge from the wind and rain there.

Though the raindrops on his face felt somewhat comfortable, getting his clothes soaked would be unpleasant.

And there was also this book in his hand…

Right, the book!

Dylan brought the book close, gently stroking the creases on its cover.

What exactly was written inside this book?

As Dylan thought this, he naturally opened it.

Blank—blank—blank—

On the leather pages… there was nothing?

Dylan quickly flipped through to the end, yet not a single note could be found.

So, was this a new book with nothing written?

What a waste carrying it while fleeing, all for nothing.

Thinking this, Dylan suddenly noticed a neat line of small characters had appeared on the page.

[Not going to keep running? You’ll be caught, you know!]

Seeing the words clearly, Dylan felt a chill down his spine.

This world indeed has some advanced magic items with a degree of intelligence.

For instance, magic rings that can automatically cast shields, or golems that can identify intruders.

But most have only rudimentary or quite low intelligence.

When a creation can converse with you, it must have used one material—

Soul!

Though soul tools do not necessarily equate to evil, given their cruel methods of creation, the makers likely aren’t benevolent, and the tools made carry a higher risk of danger.

Images of several horror stories involving soul tools flashed through Dylan’s mind.

He immediately wanted to toss it away.

However, that line made him quite curious.

What did it mean?

Could those black-robed figures still be chasing him?

Ultimately, Dylan re-opened the book, finding the words had changed!

[Five minutes remaining]

“What does five minutes mean?” Dylan directly asked the book.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the previous text vanished, and a new line appeared.

[In five more minutes, they’ll catch up]

!!!

Wasting no time, Dylan dashed into the rain, continuing to run for his life.

Uncertain if the book was deceiving him, but under the circumstances, better to believe than doubt!

The rain soaked his clothes but couldn’t wet the book in his hands; no water penetrated its pages.

While running, Dylan opened the book, wanting to ask more, only to find it already had a new line.

[This way, you won’t escape, run southeast]

Now having no other options, Dylan quickly identified the direction, fleeing southeast.

Unclear how long he ran, when exhaustion neared again, suddenly an empty space opened below his feet.

“Whoa-ah-ah—”

His entire body suddenly lost weight, tumbling into the deep pit beneath…

————

“It’s here?”

By the edge of the pit, the black-robed figure called Lacus inquired behind him.

Aivina stepped forward to confirm:

“Yes, though I don’t know why the prey suddenly gave up resting to continue fleeing.

Judging from his last footprints, his physical strength was exhausted. He may have lost his footing and fallen.

Gazing at the pit before them, Lacus unhesitatingly leaped down, followed closely by the other black-robed figures.

At the bottom of the pit, Lacus landed softly, not even causing a ripple with his boots.

The subordinates’ landing was far less graceful, with some crashing into the mud, though none dared splash mud onto Lacus’s robe.

Before the black-robed figures lay a natural cave.

These natural caves in the wild can’t compare in size or depth to the caves in the Underground City.

So no worries about losing the prey inside.

Moreover…

Lacus’s attention was drawn to a streak of blood in the puddle at his feet.

It wasn’t an isolated spot; the streak of blood faintly extended into the cave—seems the prey was injured from the fall.

With the scent of blood alone, Lacus could track the prey himself.

A crimson tongue slowly licked past canine teeth: “Little bug, wasting my time; hope your blood isn’t too nasty to drink.”

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