Chapter 43: Mad Dash on the Mountain Road

The official car tore along the winding mountain highway like a beast with its brakes ripped out, propelled solely by momentum and needing no slowdown. But the black sedans trailing behind pursued with even more reckless fury, turning the mountain road into a racetrack. Any vehicle in their way was brutally cleared by gunfire.

Ji Tingxi had already sent their location and a distress signal to He De. Yet the position shifted by the second, and the situation was utterly unpredictable. Waiting for backup alone might mean rescuers arriving only to find their corpses. Right now, their best weapon was self-rescue.

Ji Tingxi kept watch on the enemy vehicles through the rearview mirror.

Several times, the guard Yi Nuo improvised brilliantly. When an oncoming car appeared, he slowed just enough to draw the pursuers’ attention, then whipped the wheel to swing into the left lane, using the other vehicle for cover in an attempt to shake them off.

Once, Yi Nuo forced an oncoming car into an emergency swerve, wedging it right in front of the black sedan. Collision seemed inevitable, but the enemy driver’s reflexes proved superior. Their car shot past like a demon escaping hell, scraping through a narrow gap between the mountain wall and the vehicle, resuming the death-defying chase.

Both sides were evenly matched in speed now. Shaking them required desperate risks—unexpected maneuvers on the mountain road.

But such gambles could just as easily lead to their own untimely deaths. After several close calls, Yi Nuo’s eyes twitched at the corners. He couldn’t spare a moment’s distraction, his palms slick with sweat. His steady driving relied entirely on years of rigorous training.

Seated in the back, Ji Tingxi could sense his exhaustion. Yet the enemies had come prepared, with overwhelming firepower and impressive driving skills. They repeatedly turned peril into opportunity.

Supervisor Cheng was tossed about like a rag doll, alternating between dazed stares back at the road and sudden bursts of realization. In her stupor, she gazed desperately at the path behind them; when awareness hit, her sense of greater good kicked in, and she slapped her thigh hard.

“No way! We can’t head toward the academy. If these maniacs charge right in, the casualties would be catastrophic!”

The other three passengers shared her sentiment, but the crisis left no room for words yet. Each was deep in their own plans.

Ji Tingxi noticed Yi Nuo’s tension, and Wen Du picked up on Ji Tingxi’s subtle movements. She spoke up. “Miss Ji, what’s your take? Who are these killers?”

“From what I can see, the Jili Organization is the most likely culprit.” Ji Tingxi paused, remembering their host was present. She should at least confirm. “Right, Miss Cheng? Is the local Jili Organization known for this kamikaze style?”

Rounding a bend, another oncoming car appeared. Yi Nuo executed a serpentine swerve, boldly driving against traffic. Supervisor Cheng was flung into a dizzy haze, her stomach churning dangerously close to revolt.

“Sorry, I haven’t witnessed it firsthand, so I can’t be sure… But I’ve already contacted the head of the Research Center…”

She trailed off, fighting another wave of nausea.

Ji Tingxi reassured her in turn. “It’s fine. I’ve also reached out to the local Guard Institute. They’re en route. The rest station in Luling Town will clear the way for us and then block the black cars.”

Wen Du and Ji Tingxi were pros at reassurance. They had the sharpest instincts for worst-case scenarios and could summon immense resolve in desperation without needing pep talks.

Wen Du pulled up a nearby route map and calculated the distance. “Almost there. But the rest station will have other waiting vehicles. They’ll need to clear the area ahead of time for a smooth path.”

“Got it,” Ji Tingxi said with a smile. “They’ll handle it perfectly!”

Amid their urgent discussion on the highway, the pursuit raged on.

Ji Tingxi kept her eyes on the black car behind. Its machine gun barrel gleamed like a viper’s eye, locked on their tires—but it never connected. In her view, the black car’s body swerved, the gun muzzle swinging toward an oncoming vehicle.

“Yi Nuo, dodge!”

Even as she shouted, the oncoming car fishtailed, blocking the lane ahead. Yi Nuo’s pupils dilated. He steadied the vehicle, preparing to go around. But swerving would slow them, letting the pursuers close in for a barrage on their chassis.

Ji Tingxi scanned the road. “Hard right onto the county road—downhill!”

Yi Nuo’s skills were solid, and he had his own judgments, but his ears stayed tuned to rear instructions. Her words hit like a command code. He twisted the wheel, veering the car onto the nearest side road.

The black car had prepped to block them ahead, but the sudden detour onto the smaller path threw them off—they lost them again!

Off the mountain road, their new path didn’t head to Luling Town but veered toward downtown Merle, effectively looping back.

For the incoming support team, this was bad news. Time was already tight. They’d reached the rest station ready to protect, only for the targets to reverse direction, widening the rescue gap.

Sure enough, the black car followed, relentlessly aggressive no matter the terrain, pressing closer with every turn.

On the wide, clear mountain road, Supervisor Cheng had clung to faint hope thanks to backup ahead. But on the twisting side road, her heart raced anew, the sense of impending doom intensifying.

Devoid of a fixed route, Yi Nuo’s sole goal was shaking the tail and circling back to the mountain highway.

The narrow, bumpy lane had upsides: frequent forks, flanked by dense tall grass and shrubs for natural cover, confounding their pursuers’ sense of direction.

Several times, they drove long stretches without sight of the enemy. Supervisor Cheng itched to roll down the window and scan for confirmation of escape. But the black car always shattered such illusions, peeking out just as hope flickered—ghostly glimpses through the trees, steadily closing in.

“Damn it!” Supervisor Cheng exploded, her poise shattered. Her fists clenched harder than a rifle grip. “Why can’t we lose them? Do they have a tracker on the car?”

On her phone, Ji Tingxi tracked the support team’s real-time distance. They’d reached the rendezvous, but the course change forced a redirect.

Pushing deeper into the side roads troubled the black cars but complicated things for backup too.

Ji Tingxi leaned forward to study the navigation map. The paths crisscrossed wildly, each fork leading elsewhere. A moment’s lapse could send them astray.

Yi Nuo focused on scanning ahead, dodging threats, with little bandwidth for directions.

Combining phone and nav data, Ji Tingxi decided swiftly. “Yi Nuo, left at the next fork. We’ll loop back near Panling Mountain Road and link up with support.”

“Got it!” With a clear target, Yi Nuo looped back. The road smoothed out, but cover thinned—full views of pursuing cars emerged.

The mountain road thrill returned, but relief dawned: the distance to support read under five hundred meters. Escape from this deadly ordeal was in sight!

Merging from the side road onto the main, they hit a steep drop. The car jolted, then a gunshot cracked the air—”Bang!”

The shot pierced like shattering glass. Everyone inside ducked low. Yi Nuo’s brow furrowed; he yanked the wheel away from the enemy, widening the shot gap.

More shots followed. This time, a bullet struck true, punching the tire. Air hissed out, the car bucking wildly, veering out of control at speed.

Yi Nuo gripped the wheel fiercely. The vehicle careened, miraculously avoiding a rollover, before slamming sideways into a tree trunk. Passengers lurched forward in chaos, finally halting.

They’d braced for a plunge down the slope, but survival brought a collective exhale—cut short, sucked back in amid surging dread.

Ji Tingxi held her breath, issuing rapid orders.

“Yi Nuo, take Supervisor Cheng right into the bushes—plenty of cover there. Remember, they want us alive, not dead. If cornered, ditch running or fighting!”

Supervisor Cheng was still reeling, the wrecked guard car’s fate vivid in her mind. Would these lunatics really hold back from killing? And wouldn’t the lead guard captain stick with her?

No time for questions. Yi Nuo yanked her from the car, vanishing into the underbrush. Meanwhile, Ji Tingxi pulled Wen Du out, heading the opposite way.

The crash had bought distance from pursuers, granting precious seconds.

Wen Du had dressed formally for the trip, hair neatly pinned. Now strands framed her cheeks amid the disarray, but her gaze steadied like ancient roots. Hair danced in the wind, but her eyes stood firm as an towering oak.

She asked no questions, sticking close behind Ji Tingxi as they plunged into the thicket along a rugged trail. After some distance, she glanced back.

“If the thugs catch Supervisor Cheng’s group, we’re in trouble.”

Even as she spoke, faint footsteps echoed from afar—someone closing in!

Ji Tingxi pressed on, her silhouette flickering in the dappled forest light. Her voice stayed low and clear. “This time, their target is you, isn’t it, Miss Wen?”

Wen Du’s heart, already pounding relentlessly, skipped harder. She exhaled, steadying herself.

“Probably. But what an honor—such a massive effort.”

Ji Tingxi had drawn her sidearm, gripping it ready. Hearing the footsteps, she slowed, letting Wen Du pass ahead while she watched their rear.

“Miss Wen’s value is immense. I have to keep you safe, or the losses would be devastating.”

They matched endurance and poise, hurrying quietly while exchanging polite banalities—embodying the Guard Institute’s “virtues” to the hilt. Even with death looming, they kept up the facade of collegial harmony.

Descending the slope, they emerged from the woods to a serene reservoir. Crystal waters lay calm amid low hills, a pier stretching out with a white-walled, blue-roofed cabin midway for staff quarters.

Footsteps neared from behind. Ji Tingxi checked her real-time location one last time. Support was inbound but not close. These sounds were the killers on their tail.

A breeze stirred the water, rippling outward, carrying cool mist that sharpened the mind like ice in the veins—clarity for the perfect choice.

“Hide in the water first. During the fight, stay down. Surface only for air along the edge if needed—play it smart!”

With that, Ji Tingxi steadied Wen Du’s arm, easing her into the reservoir.

The bank had been shored up, dropping 1-2 meters—enough for an adult to conceal herself without drowning. Wen Du wasn’t a strong swimmer, but urgency trumped all. As a civilian, stray bullets posed grave risk. Ji Tingxi needed her secure before engaging.

Wen Du had barely adjusted to the weightless bob when the first bullet ricocheted off the ground.

Unsure of positions, fearing exposure, she held her breath and dove under. Water enveloped her completely—eyes, nose, ears smeared in murky haze, senses muffled and indistinct.

Yet amid the chaos, she tracked the gunfire—not just ahead but from the nearby duty station.

Shots crisscrossed the air, volley for volley. Each brief lull birthed vivid horrors in her mind, scarring her thoughts. The water beyond her senses seemed to turn bloody.

On shore, the killers fired at Ji Tingxi’s flank, trying to pin her behind the cabin with suppressive fire for a capture.

But she held firm. When shots eased, she leaned out halfway, pistol barking straight at their faces, halting their advance. This bought Wen Du blind-spot cover and preserved Ji Tingxi’s maneuver room.

Forced back, the lead killer crouched low, ducking bullets behind pier railings.

His rear partner spotted this and fired at Ji Tingxi, signaling his teammate once she retreated. When she peeked again, she saw the shift: the trailing killer flanking the pier’s other side, holding fire temporarily.

They planned to pinch the cabin from both sides. Once flanked, the shelter became a trap, leaving her defenseless.

Underwater quieted briefly, but Wen Du’s calm frayed. Prolonged breath-holding accelerated her pulse; uncertainty on shore boiled her blood, heart laboring.

Eyes open underwater, she strained to make out shore shapes, spotting Ji Tingxi’s outline behind the cabin but not her expression.

From days together, Wen Du pictured it anyway—a face serene as a still lake, even in tension.

This time, she knew: Ji Tingxi was genuinely protecting her.

She’d bet on killers sparing Supervisor Cheng; staked her own life on her gunplay; but for Wen Du’s, no gamble—tucked in the safest spot for certain survival.

Lungs burning, Wen Du parted her lips, inhaling water. She clamped shut, choking silently, bubbles rising to blur the surface view further.

How ironic!

By the plan, Ji Tingxi was the assassination mark, meant to await death in the lab. Now roles reversed: she was the bullseye, with Ji Tingxi battling on shore to shield her.

Wen Du had once told Yue Mu her schemes always hit snags around Ji Tingxi. That quip had evolved into theory—valid in any extremity.

Onshore, the killers widened their net, nearly enveloping the cabin’s flanks. They coordinated fire sporadically to keep Ji Tingxi pinned. Yet in lulls, she seized chances, bracing her pistol two-handed for precise shots.

Ammo scarce, every round counted for maximum effect. Earlier suppression denied aims, but proximity now simplified hits.

She had cover; they didn’t. Her bullet slammed a chest. Bulletproof vest or not, it bowled him over, his aim flying wild.

Seizing the moment, Ji Tingxi targeted the head, pumping rounds. Explosive headshots sprayed blood, droplets peppering the reservoir in vivid crimson blooms.

One down. Ji Tingxi hugged the corner, shifting to the cabin’s right flank. Instantly, shots cracked behind her—the second killer in position. A split-second later, and her blood would stain the water.

This killer, sensing his partner’s death, abandoned restraint. Machine-gun fire chewed the walls, aiming to shred the structure and bury her.

First blood boosted Ji Tingxi’s morale; she’d planned to repeat, using walls for another kill while he raged. But his frenzy ditched capture for her head—repositioning now risked too much.

Relief came swift. As his magazine emptied, gunfire erupted from the woods. Support had arrived left of the cabin, behind the killer. Rifles and pistols trained on his back, primed to unleash.

The woods fired once, splintering pier boards—minimal damage, maximum warning: surrounded. Any move meant death.

Ji Tingxi kept her pistol raised, eyes locked ahead, thumbing her earpiece to answer the vibrating phone.

“Commander, lethal force?”

“No—capture. We need him!”

Per orders, the support leader barked demands: drop weapon, hands on head, squat.

The killer held steady, neither complying nor firing. Facing the wall seconds amid fresh shouts, he spun, hosing the woods. Bullets kicked up dirt, leaves, and stones in a deadly fan.

Support scattered behind trees, outgunned temporarily by the machine gun’s roar.

But ammo was finite. They could wait; capture was inevitable.

The killer sought a miracle comeback, firing on the run toward distant woods. Before reaching cover, his leg buckled. Ji Tingxi emerged from the cabin behind him, in textbook firing stance: aim, squeeze. The shot nailed his knee.

He crumpled. She lowered to shatter his weapon grip; the machine gun flew meters into the water for the fish.

The blast startled underwater life—and Wen Du. Choking down water, she surfaced at the bank, scrubbing her face fiercely.

Seconds later, breathing free, vision cleared to frame the pier scene.

The killer bled and unarmed but unbowed. Spotting Ji Tingxi, he lunged crawling, hands clawing for her throat.

She sidestepped, then stomped his wounded knee, grinding salt in the wound. He collapsed to his knees in a mock grand obeisance.

Undeterred, he struggled up for close combat.

Ji Tingxi had no patience for it. She jammed her pistol to his forehead, pinning him down.

Fear the gun if not her. He knelt motionless at last.

Ji Tingxi yanked off his mask. A pale, youthful face emerged—classic Sern features: soft contours, refined features, faint stubble. Boyish slimness lingered, cheeks unmarred by age’s padding.

Youthful visage, but eyes blazed ancient enmity, pupils dilated with fermented hatred older than his years—deadlier than bullets if distilled to poison.

His glare stung her face like slaps. She respected his aim less than his stare.

“Why stare like that?”

Teeth grinding like sandpaper, the youth snarled, “I want to kill you!”

Her laugh met his raw venom head-on, gaze sharper still.

“Plenty want me dead. You’re not next.”