TN: First of all, I want to apologize for disappearing for almost two months without saying anything.
A lot of things happened during that time. I had to deal with my thesis, school requirements, final defense, final examinations, and, finally, graduation. Needless to say, it was an extremely busy and exhausting period for me.
There were also times when I was technically free, but I was either too tired to translate anything or I had to deal with some personal problems, so I just couldn't bring myself to work on it.
I know that isn't much of an excuse, especially since I wasn't able to let everyone know what was going on, and I'm genuinely sorry for that. I know some of you have been waiting patiently for updates, and I really appreciate all of you for sticking around.
I also want to reassure everyone that I have absolutely no intention of dropping this fic. I love this story far too much to abandon it, and I fully intend to continue translating it.
I can't promise a perfectly consistent schedule, but I can promise that I'll continue working on it.
Thank you all for your patience, and I hope you'll continue to enjoy the story alongside me.
Anyway, that's all from me. Sorry for the long note, and enjoy the chapter!
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Deep within the shadows of the abandoned quarry at night, Carrigan was anxiously conducting a high-stakes arms deal. Ever since his terrifying encounter with that flaming monster the previous night, Carrigan knew with absolute certainty that this kidnapping contract was not going to be an easy matter to handle, so he made the executive decision to drastically upgrade his crew's tactical equipment.
"We have the Javelin missile system; you can completely ignore it right after aiming and launching it due to its fire-and-forget targeting," the black-market arms dealer explained, gesturing to the crates. "I also have four standard two-stage ground-penetrating bombs right here. Just exactly how many people are you planning to deal with?" the heavily armed dealer looked directly at Carrigan and asked with a raised eyebrow.
"It is just a few people, nothing we cannot handle," Carrigan said dismissively, without even looking back as he greedily touched the cold, metallic ammunition.
"Just a few people? With this kind of heavy ordnance, are you preparing to deal with Superman himself?" Just as the skeptical arms dealer finished speaking his mocking question, there was a sudden, violent vibration overhead, and a sleek figure effortlessly smashed through the corrugated iron roof, landing squarely in the dead center of the gathered mercenaries.
"Allow me to correct you on that assumption; you are not dealing with a Superman, but rather a superhuman and a very angry skeleton that can catch fire," Ethan Hunt smoothly announced, looking at everyone with a calm, predatory gaze.
The deafening roar of automatic gunfire immediately echoed through the quarry! Seeing this sudden intrusion, the quick-reacting mercenaries had already instinctively raised their assault rifles, but after a blindingly fast burst of return vector-manipulated strikes, every single man who had fired their weapon collapsed unconscious to the rocky ground.
"Get out of here, retreat!" Carrigan screamed in panic. After finishing speaking, Carrigan frantically rushed out of the building with a face completely full of sheer horror, but Ethan did not intend to pursue the fleeing boss just yet; instead, he locked his eyes on the frightened little boy who was tied up securely in a dark corner. The primary tactical purpose of his aggressive roof breach was to safely secure Danny first and foremost. As for the far more troublesome operational matters like taking out the mercenary garbage, there was a literal flaming skeleton waiting eagerly outside who absolutely could not wait to take over that gruesome duty.
And sure enough, the moment the panicked Carrigan rushed out into the main quarry workshop yard, the Ghost Rider could no longer wait, swooping down aggressively from a high cliff ledge to slam to a halt directly in front of the escaping convoy. A pair of hollow eye sockets, burning with an insatiable appetite for vengeance, glanced back and forth sizing up these terrified mercenaries, and then he became visibly excited, declaring with a terrifyingly hoarse, demonic voice, "It is officially time to hunt!"
However, right after the Ghost Rider's chilling voice fell silent, a Javelin missile was suddenly and desperately fired by a surviving gunner, hitting the Ghost Rider dead-on in a massive explosion, which was immediately followed by a relentless barrage of several heavy howitzer rounds.
The concussive blasts chained together in a deafening sequence! A single motorcycle wheel, still violently burning with hellish flames, flew out of the epicenter of the explosion and rolled slowly and pathetically to a halt in front of the stunned onlookers. As for the blast crater itself, the brilliant hellfire on the Ghost Rider's head was entirely extinguished by the sheer kinetic force, leaving absolutely nothing but a blackened, cracked skull that was still smoking faintly in the cold night air.
"I am so terribly sorry, you look like you might be hurt," Carrigan smiled provocatively, taunting the seemingly defeated Ghost Rider from a safe distance.
Unsurprisingly, this arrogant taunt finally fully angered the Ghost Rider; after all, if the Spirit of Vengeance does not display his true, overwhelming power, these mortals might foolishly mistake him for a mere low-level flaming skeleton minion. Temporarily completely forgetting about his previous strategy of passively sabotaging Mephisto's orders through laziness, the Rider's smoldering eye sockets began to rapidly scan his immediate surroundings for a suitable weapon.
Very soon, his demonic gaze locked onto a truly massive, industrial-grade rock excavator with a towering height of well over ten meters, and the Ghost Rider was genuinely stunned into silence at that very moment. The human host and carrier of the Ghost Rider, Johnny Blaze, is famously known as a world-class acrobatic stunt driver. Throughout his wild career, he has expertly driven custom motorcycles, high-end sports cars, and even advanced S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinjet fighters, but absolutely none of these magnificent vehicles were even half as attractive or awe-inspiring as the mechanical behemoth sitting silently in front of him right now.
A deeply buried, nostalgic childhood memory from a very long time ago was suddenly violently awakened at this exact moment, making him feel as if a familiar, triumphant background music track had also miraculously begun to linger and echo loudly within his skeletal ears.
There were certain vehicular stunt techniques he had long since forgotten, but seeing this machine, he suddenly remembered them perfectly; it reminded him of a specific night when his late father asked him why he was not happy that day. He recalled telling his father that there was a magnificent, unstoppable excavator in his wildest imagination, one which was completely different and undeniably the most fashionable machine in the world, and that operating such a glorious excavation vehicle must be the greatest feeling imaginable.
But it was a tragic pity that the young Johnny never actually got to drive an excavator after all, mainly because his father jokingly told him that only the legendary, mysterious vocational academies located in the far East could teach a man to drive all kinds of excavators casually and masterfully. Therefore, Johnny simply could not believe his incredible luck at this time, since he had finally, truly found the ultimate heavy-duty excavator of his lifelong dreams sitting right in a warzone.
Fully accompanied by the imaginary, heroic background music swelling in his mind, Johnny resolutely and eagerly climbed up onto the cabin of this giant industrial excavator, and the dormant flames of hell suddenly surged crazily at this time, erupting violently from his skeletal body just like a massive volcanic eruption, instantly covering the entire chassis and miraculously demon-tuning the mundane excavator into an engine of pure, unadulterated vengeance.
The now-demonic, huge excavator was brutally activated with an ear-splitting mechanical roar, causing the surrounding heavily armed mercenaries to immediately begin screaming in absolute horror. They were mercilessly chased down and instantly crushed into the dirt by the possessed excavator's massive treads, while others were effortlessly slapped to death by the sweeping, hellfire-infused huge digging claws. Even if they somehow managed to dodge the direct physical strikes, the splash of liquid hellfire constantly sprinkled by the excavator as it moved was completely fatal to them. As for all of their newly purchased heavy firepower weapons, when facing this towering, unstoppable behemoth after its unholy magical transformation, their bullets and explosives simply bounced off the scorched metal armor and would not have much effect at all.
With a hellfire-fueled excavator at his command, absolutely no one is afraid of any approaching enemies; he crushed them one by one, two by two, treating the heavily armed mercenaries exactly like meaningless, disposable minions, stepping forward with what could only be described as the rhythmic, terrifying pace of the devil himself—truly, it was the devil's pace!
While the Ghost Rider was deeply immersed in his own personal action-movie background music, the mercenary leader Carrigan was already violently trembling with uncontrolled fright. Deep down in his cowardly heart, he had already furiously scolded that ancient, deceptive thief Roarke countless times for getting him into this, wondering how anyone dared to cruelly trick him into fighting an apocalyptic machine like this.
Of course, at the exact same time, Carrigan also felt incredibly, unjustifiably wronged by this extreme escalation of violence. He felt that this modern world was becoming entirely too confusing for a simple criminal; after all, he reasoned, he had merely kidnapped a single child for a paycheck. Did these so-called heroes really need to put on a dramatic, world-saving posture and make this level of apocalyptic trouble just to stop him? The enemy had actually taken the extreme lead in utilizing that terrifying bald skeleton, and to make matters even worse, it was clearly the overpowered kind of monster that could apparently transform vehicles and enter a ridiculous second stage of boss-level combat.
Carrigan deeply and profoundly regretted taking this cursed job, but obviously, it was far too late for apologies now. Knowing with absolute certainty that he was completely powerless to resist the hell-excavator, he immediately grabbed his two most loyal younger subordinates and shoved them into the nearest getaway vehicle, which happened to be a surprisingly sturdy Wuling Hongguang delivery van. As the established boss of the mercenary crew, he usually did not drive very much during these chaotic operations, but right now, squarely facing this terrifying moment of imminent life and death, he knew it was finally time to show off his real, unparalleled driving skills.
Amidst the sudden, high-pitched roar of the heavily modified engine, the seemingly mundane Wuling Hongguang executed a physically impossible, textbook inertial drift turn, violently kicking up dust as it rushed out of the perimeter of the quarry in the very next moment.
"Ethan, be advised, a suspect car has successfully escaped the primary containment zone." At this exact time, from his elevated vantage point among the advanced S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinjet fighters hovering silently in the night air, Agent Coulson, who had been closely monitoring the chaotic situation unfolding below, was urgently contacting Ethan over the secure comms channel.
"Do you have a clear shot? Can the fleeing vehicle be destroyed directly from the air?" Ethan immediately asked, maintaining his calm professional demeanor.
"I am afraid that is a negative on the strike; that slippery bastard somehow managed to turn his van completely invisible once again right after making a sharp turn out of the quarry," Coulson's voice echoed over the radio, sounding a little embarrassed by this technological failure.
"Do not worry about it, it is completely okay, he absolutely cannot run away from us tonight, mainly because that fiery guy down there has already noticed him fleeing the scene," Ethan said with a knowing, confident smile.
Ethan was, of course, specifically talking about the rampaging Ghost Rider. The exact moment the seemingly invisible Wuling Hongguang van rushed out of the quarry's gates, the Ghost Rider, who had just finished brutally dealing with all the remaining mercenaries, had already firmly set his burning sights on tracking down Carrigan.
At this critical moment, Johnny the Ghost Rider, who still retained the deep-seated pride of a world-class professional racer, keenly and supernaturally sensed the lingering, sinful aura of his fleeing opponent. The slick inertial drift and sharp turn executed by the opponent was viewed as nothing less than a direct, insulting provocation in the burning eyes of the Ghost Rider. This blatant challenge was absolutely intolerable to his racing spirit. Aggressively pulling down the heavy accelerator lever of the giant, possessed excavator, the Ghost Rider directly stomped his skeletal foot on the gas pedal, pushing it all the way to the metal floorboard. The magically modified, hell-infused engine was roaring with the sound of a thousand damned souls, and in the very next moment, two massive jets of concentrated flames violently spewed out from the oversized exhaust pipes, generating immense thrust and violently pushing the gargantuan excavator forward and out onto the open road.
"Boss, step on it, that horrifying thing from behind is actually catching up to us!" At this terrifying moment, the two panicked younger brothers sitting in the cramped back seat of the speeding Wuling Hongguang shouted in unison, uncontrollably trembling while staring back at the side rearview mirror in absolute, unadulterated horror.
"How in the world is this even physically possible?" Carrigan screamed in disbelief; he had already successfully navigated two sharp turns while completely cloaked in stealth, and he had confidently thought he should have easily gotten rid of the pursuing enemy by now. How could he have possibly anticipated the supernatural fact that the Ghost Rider could effortlessly track his exact location simply by smelling and sensing his lingering, sinful aura? The vehicle's closing speed was simply too impossibly fast for a ground pursuit. "What exactly is catching up to us right now, is it a damn fighter jet airplane?!"
"No, Boss, it is not an airplane, it is a giant rock excavator! The massive excavator is literally breathing hellish fire all over its metallic body! Its current tracking speed should be roughly 150 kilometers per hour... No, wait, that cannot be right, it should be hitting 180 kilometers per hour now, and dear God, it seems to be actively accelerating even more!"
"Boss, swerve the van, it has just stretched out its massive, flaming digging arm toward us; we are completely finished!" The two terrified younger brothers desperately hugged each other in sheer fright, shouting frantically as the shadow of the mechanical claw loomed over their rear windshield.
Out on this desolate, empty Eastern European mountain night road, two vastly different vehicles were driving at dangerously fast, breakneck speeds, and the gargantuan, hellfire-powered excavator right behind them was still aggressively stretching out its massive, burning digging claws to violently attack the speeding, drifting van in front of it.
And this absolutely absurd, high-octane scene, which was arguably vastly more magical and ridiculously over-the-top than any big-budget Hollywood action blockbuster movie ever produced, also miraculously fell into the wide, disbelieving eyes of all the late-night passing civilian drivers along the highway; amidst their profound, collective shock, it genuinely seemed that there was yet another triumphant, heart-pounding background music track universally reverberating in the stunned minds of all the bewildered witnesses.
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Word count: 2355
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