Spaghetti mixed with number 42 concrete, motorcycle out of gas so fill it with 90 percent rubbing alcohol

Guderian's bulky frame crashed heavily to the ground, a scarlet mist of blood bursting from the combat uniform across his chest.

The specially designed warhead of the Frigg bullet failed to penetrate his tactical vest, but he inadvertently inhaled the atomized anesthetic.

He glanced down at the smoking bullet hole, his lips twitching slightly, and raised a hand in an attempt to stop the combat personnel from launching another attack. However, the deep, commanding roar of a Colt M1911 had already echoed from behind him a fraction of a second earlier.

With a deafening bang, Lu Mingfei, who had been knocked aside but quickly regained his center of gravity, fired without even looking. A mist of blood erupted in the distant woods, followed immediately by the dull thud of a heavy object hitting the ground.

That he managed to hit the target purely by instinct caused him a brief flicker of astonishment, but this was obviously not the time to ponder coincidences or luck.

"Mingfei, this is a misunderstanding, trust me..." Guderian, sprawled on the ground, reached out a hand as if trying to explain something, but before he could finish his sentence, he lost consciousness under the influence of the anesthetic.

Lu Mingfei glanced at him, pressed his lips together without a word, pulled out a few steel nails to shatter the nearby searchlight, and then whirled around, plunging back into the darkness from which he had come.

It was undeniable that Guderian held immense goodwill toward him, and through him, Lu Mingfei had managed to test the waters regarding Cassell College's attitude toward him. Yet, this did little to dispel his deep-seated aversion to this dragon-slaying vocational school.

This was a negative favorability rating extending all the way from his past life.

The gunshots in the distance were growing fainter; judging by the sound, Cassell College's personnel were about to wrap up their combat and clear the scene. He had to leave as quickly as possible.

The temporary medical center was situated on the flank of the base camp. Along the way, he had noticed only off-road vehicles and engineering trucks in the vicinity—not a single motorcycle or bicycle.

Though he couldn't rely on convenient transportation to escape, this also meant that the people from Cassell College had to rely entirely on their own two legs if they wanted to pursue him through the dense forest.

The sense of crisis of being targeted by a muzzle had vanished. It seemed that only one person had spotted him hijacking Guderian, and that person hadn't had time to report it to the others.

However, the sound of the Colt and the shattering of the searchlight had already attracted the attention of others, and pursuers would likely arrive soon.

Charging into the woods, he pulled out a box of thumbtacks and scattered them wildly like flower petals falling from the sky.

Continuing deeper into the forest, the remains of the Corpse Guards still lay where they were, as Cassell's combat personnel were all concentrated around the "Coffin Mountain."

These dragon-slaying fanatics placed an extraordinary emphasis on secrecy. If they wanted to avoid local authorities and police discovering monsters scattered all over the mountains, they needed to clean up the scene as quickly as possible.

Consequently, the number of people sent to hunt him down would be limited.

Using fragments of the Corpse Guards, along with the homemade anti-wolf spray and stink bombs he had concocted yesterday, he set up a few minor traps. Lu Mingfei reckoned that even if those hybrid dragon-bloods possessed noses sharper than hounds, triggering these traps would still leave them sneezing for days.

Having finished setting the traps, he hurried away—not because he didn't want to run, but because his legs were truly running on empty.

Regardless of whether it was a surge of adrenaline or an invisible injection of vigor when his worldview suffered a devastating blow, the reserves of his newly reborn physical strength were now completely exhausted.

Fortunately, he successfully returned to the highway before the gunfire over there completely died away.

Cloaked in the shadows, Lu Mingfei listened intently for a moment, then cautiously peered outward to see if there were any Cassell College vehicles parked along the road that he could commandeer.

Unfortunately, there were none.

The wind rustled through the leaves; the silent woods lacked even the chirping of insects or calls of birds. In the distance, two or three faint gunshots could still be heard, and the only thing on the road was a dark, antiquated motorcycle.

"What are these guys even good for? They couldn't even catch a secondhand Jialing?"

Lu Mingfei was somewhat speechless. As expected, the people coming out of Cassell College were of questionable competence. To think he had even prepared to cast himself in the role of a seasoned criminal mastermind.

Massaging his calves, which were now beginning to protest, he slid down the embankment and opened the fuel tank of the Jialing motorcycle.

The situation was critical; he had to resort to some unconventional methods.

Retrieving a bottle of 95% concentration disinfectant alcohol he had pocketed earlier from the temporary medical center, he didn't hesitate to pour the entire bottle straight into the tank (hazardous operation, do not imitate).

Motorcycles from this era were far more durable than those of later generations. The Jialing, fueled by medical alcohol, successfully roared to life, and Lu Mingfei twisted the throttle and shot forward.

The speed was slower than before, the risk factor increased exponentially, and the motorcycle might even be completely wrecked by the time the journey ended.

But whatever—at least it was moving.

Shortly after he departed, a black Suzuki GSX-R1000 motorcycle came roaring up.

A long-legged female rider wearing a black helmet and a black combat uniform stopped her vehicle, staring in silence at the empty road.

After a long while, she picked up her phone and muttered complainingly, "Potato, the target is gone, and the motorcycle is gone too. Do you think he carried the bike away on his back?"

"Carry it my foot! He definitely got gasoline from the Cassell side just now, hurry up and chase him!" an exasperated voice yelled from the other end of the line.

Hearing this, the long-legged female rider twisted the throttle again and sped off in pursuit. "Do you think that kid has even experienced spiritual vision awakening and bloodline activation? To think I previously felt a twinge of pity, thinking it was pure suicide to send a weak, bookish high schooler like him into the Death Island.

"Just now, when he was in the middle of that swarm of Corpse Guards dropping them one by one with a single shot each, I was actually afraid he’d suddenly turn his gun toward my hiding spot.

"Seriously, that marksmanship is almost catching up to mine."

It just went to show that VIP clients favored by the boss truly had their unique strengths.

"How would I know? But judging by the boss's attitude, our script might need to be rewritten, otherwise, they wouldn't have let us actively show up to help him escape," the Potato's voice suddenly took on a hint of mockery.

"Long-legged, you usually run pretty fast, so how come despite rushing you still ended up a step behind? I told you not to park the bike so far away, but you wouldn't listen, insisting you had plenty of time."

"Do not interfere with a driver's normal operation!" The long-legged female rider hung up the phone abruptly, as she had already caught sight of the Jialing, which looked like a crawling turtle compared to her Suzuki GSX-R1000.

Although she had no idea how Lu Mingfei had managed to restore power to a dead motorcycle, at that speed, Cassell's people would easily catch up if they pursued him.

Accelerating forward, she prepared to make up some random excuse and ride alongside Lu Mingfei. But before she could lift her visor to reveal those captivating eyes whose single wink could knock out a crowd of men, a pitch-black muzzle was already leveled directly at her.

"Slow down and pull over!"

Lu Mingfei controlled the bike with his right hand while holding the gun in his left. His voice wasn't loud, but it easily cut through the air to reach the female rider who had suddenly ambushed him from the side.

"What?" The long-legged female rider looked in disbelief at the gleaming muzzle and the masked teenager wearing a medical face mask across from her.

She wasn't sure whether to doubt her eyes or her ears.

Lu Mingfei did not utter a second sentence. Instead, he pulled the trigger, shattering the rearview mirror of the Suzuki GSX-R1000.

He thought this action would be enough to prove he wasn't joking. Yet, the long-legged female rider acted as though something was fundamentally wrong with her brain, glaring at him as she rebuked angrily:

"Hey! This is a custom model, you know! It's very expensive!"

Despite her complaints, however, she still reduced her speed—evidently worried that the muzzle would target other, more vulnerable parts of her body in the next second.

Given an opponent whose marksmanship was good enough to shatter a rearview mirror while driving, she could easily be shot right through even if she suddenly accelerated.

In the end, both motorcycles came to a halt. Lu Mingfei, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying his role as a highway robber, waved his hand to signal the long-legged female rider to surrender her bike.

Reluctantly, she shut off the engine, then lifted her slender left leg, preparing to dismount from the right side.

At the exact moment her tactical-boot-clad left foot swept past the rear seat of the motorcycle, the dashing female rider abruptly accelerated her movements, transforming her dismounting motion into a ferocious offensive in a fraction of a second.

A powerful, snapping side kick lashed out directly toward the Colt M1911 in Lu Mingfei's hand.