Night had descended, swallowing Lishan in shadow.
The martial hall's courtyard lay empty, its lamps bright, yet the surrounding houses were shrouded in darkness.
Only the study remained lit. From outside, one could clearly see a figure reclining in a wicker chair, motionless, as if asleep.
Whoosh—Woooo—
When Lin Tuo shifted his consciousness into the clone and descended onto the land, the first thing he heard was the howl of the wind.
The gale itself was not strong, but rushing through nearby mountains, it carried echoes—mournful, hollow, like the earth weeping.
His lashes trembled as he opened his eyes. The wind lashed his face with fine snowflakes, stinging sharply.
Cold crept from collar to neck, burrowing into his clothes. Even Lin Tuo, with a body far stronger than ordinary men, shivered instinctively.
"So cold!"
He pulled the zipper of his thick coat tighter.
Before entering, he had already judged the Sand Table world's temperature to be low.
So he had first placed his clone within the martial hall inside the Sand Table, rummaging out a light down jacket, cotton boots, and gloves—fully arming himself for the cold.
With his current physique he could endure winter in mere shirtsleeves, but he wasn't a masochist. If warmth was available, he would take it.
Now, that decision proved wise.
Scanning his surroundings cautiously, he saw an expanse of dim wilderness. Behind him loomed mountains; not far ahead, a ruined road.
The ground beneath his feet was coated with a thin layer of snow—it was deep winter here.
Judging by the faint light, dawn was still some time away.
Lin Tuo adjusted to the environment, confirmed no immediate danger, then looked up.
The night sky was streaked with black clouds. Only a few stars pierced through, granting him meager vision.
"Better than I expected."
He pulled off one glove, exposing his right hand to the air.
Aside from the cold, he felt faint stings pricking his skin.
Inside, his Ether surged with unusual vigor.
"Radiation." Lin Tuo muttered, eyes darkening.
From the operation log, he had surmised that the so-called Annihilation Bombs were some kind of superweapon—less powerful than nuclear arms, but of similar nature.
And though not nuclear, their energy release had clearly birthed radiation-like phenomena—killing vast swathes of life.
Lin Tuo had prepared himself mentally. If ordinary people here had managed to survive, then with his tempered body, he should be able to endure.
Indeed, his judgment proved correct.
"This level of radiation stings, but only faintly. As long as I don't linger long-term, it won't be a problem."
Reassured, he slipped the glove back on and began orienting himself.
Recalling the lights of a possible settlement he had glimpsed earlier from above, he drew a deep breath and started jogging steadily along the ruined road.
"Follow this road… I should find a city."
Rumble…
At the same time, beyond a mountain ridge from where Lin Tuo landed—
From above, one could see a chase unfolding across the snowy plain.
Three modified vehicles tore across the wasteland.
At the lead, a smaller vehicle sped recklessly, headlights off, jolting wildly like a crazed beast, its engine screaming.
Behind it, two off-roaders followed in pursuit, headlights blazing with arrogant ease.
Their monstrous tires chewed the snow, carving deep ruts into the frozen ground.
Closer inspection revealed soldiers inside—men in black military coats, rifles in hand.
In the front seat of one, a man with epaulets—an officer—sat grim-faced.
"Where are we now?" he asked coldly.
In the back, a soldier shone a flashlight onto a paper map spread on his knee. After a quick glance, he replied:
"Up ahead is Mining Town. We'll be there in five minutes at most."
"Mining Town? Then that hunter must be heading there. His tank wasn't full. Running this far, his fuel's nearly gone." The officer's voice sharpened.
Then, louder, he barked:
"Everyone, stay sharp. Check your weapons. Be ready to capture. If we let him escape, the company will make us pay dearly!"
"Yes, sir!"
The cabin echoed with responses and the clatter of rifles being readied.
Before long, the silhouette of a small town appeared in their headlights.
Collapsed buildings, crumbling walls—ruin everywhere. Outside the town, a rusted windmill stood crooked, like a monument of decay.
Only the faintest flickers of light within suggested human presence.
As the convoy drew closer, the town erupted with noise—dogs barking violently, scattered shouts, firelight sparking to life.
"Sir, the target's abandoned his vehicle!" the driver shouted, pointing to a dead engine on the plain outside the town.
"Keep driving," the officer ordered. He pulled out a handgun and fired a shot skyward.
Bang!
The crack split the night. At once, the noise in the town faltered. The convoy rolled in unhindered, stopping at the central square.
There, a crowd had already gathered.
Compared to the armed soldiers, these people looked pitiful.
Small, thin bodies dressed in filthy, tattered rags. Their hair matted, faces smeared with ash and dust, a foul stench clinging to them.
They clutched makeshift weapons—wooden sticks, bent steel rods—huddled together in fear, eyes fixed on the intruders with dread.
Some bore visible deformities under the flickering firelight.
The refugees of Mining Town.
"Where is the one in charge here?" the officer barked, scanning the crowd as soldiers jumped down, rifles sweeping threatening arcs.
No one answered.
Faces only showed terror.
"Here! Here!"
From the rear, a voice rang out, taut with nerves yet firm.
The crowd parted. A middle-aged man pushed forward, wearing a ragged jacket above relatively intact work pants.
Behind him followed a few armed men, clutching battered rifles.
Compared to the soldiers' weapons, their arms were little more than scrap—fit to intimidate, not fight.
"Sir, I am the person responsible for Mining Town. What are your orders?" he said quickly, forcing a smile.
His eyes flicked over the soldiers' uniforms, the insignia painted on their vehicles. As he spoke, he puffed out his chest, deliberately showing off a bright metal badge polished to a shine.
A brass badge—engraved with a burning flame, with a backdrop of forest on the snowfields.
The emblem of Burning Flame Company.
"We are on a capture mission," the officer said flatly, glaring down at him. "A wild hunter has stolen company property and killed our men. He abandoned his car not long ago and fled into this town."
The officer sniffed the air faintly, then nodded.
"I can confirm the target is here. He hasn't left. Now—you will gather everyone and assist in the search. Do you understand?"
At that very moment—
In a collapsed building at the southwestern edge of the square, a figure watched silently from a broken window.
His eyes flickered. Then, like a cat, he slipped back into the shadows—gone without a sound.
Not far away—
From another shadow, a man in a black down coat emerged slowly.
Lin Tuo.
His gaze lingered in the direction the figure had vanished. A thoughtful expression crossed his face.
(End of Chapter)