Light sources on both sides exploded in sequence, with wires occasionally sparking, and darkness roared in like a giant beast storm.

John and Simon's motorcycle engines were rapidly cooling, with vibrations and whirring sharply reduced, yet tension and fear surged simultaneously within the two riders' hearts.

They frantically attempted the handbrake, trying to gain a bit of control in the high-speed descent and narrow turn.

Yet the relentless bullets behind them formed a dashed line in the air, causing streaks of fire and smoke to periodically burst around the corridor.

John and Simon tore out, speeding over a ramp constructed of solid steel plates and building debris, crashing through the windows of a sectioned-off area.

The motorcycle wheels spun in the air, the tail trailing smoke and dust, while bright yellow bullets turned into streaks and airwaves passing through the gaps between them and their vehicle.

The two of them landed on the gravel road amid flying debris.

This was the designated rendezvous point.

The motorcycle's shock absorbers absorbed half, and the electronic stabilizer failed, relying solely on the rider's most primitive control ability, plus critical luck.

Simon was evidently the unlucky one.

Upon landing, he fell into a death wobble, ultimately losing control uncontrollably, tumbling along with debris and falling motorcycle casing across the ground.

The Wanderer, accustomed to racing across the wasteland, knew how to protect himself, so he at most fractured some bones but not to the point of unconscious serious injury.

The flying machine was catching up.

The vector engine compressed the air, producing a loud bang.

The point from which John and his team burst through the windows exploded with a roar, with support structures and half of a panel shredded like wrapping paper.

John drifted and turned around.

Bang, bang, bang...

Hercules was adjusted straight from his back, firing several shots at the target.

Unfortunately, the rifle in smart mode could only auto-aim within a small range, unable to shake the military-grade hull of the flying machine, or rather, unable to consistently strike weak points while moving at high speed.

The transport aircraft nearly grazed the tunnel dome as it dived.

The flax-colored camo shell and white spray code had varying degrees of wear. At this time, it arced and raised its gun barrel, slightly red, aiming at John.

His heart suddenly tightened just when he thought the automatic cannon was about to perforate him.

Boom!

A streak of bright yellow grazed by from the side, hitting the transport aircraft.

Black red smoked surged within the expanding smoke, with fragments of varying sizes scattering around with the lights.

The shockwave knocked John over.

The transport aircraft's shell showed damage, electrical arcs and sizzling noise wandering around.

[Damn, it's tough as hell, we need to widen the distance, this shot isn't enough to finish off the old Du for now!]

Maya's voice emerged.

John, covered in dust, climbed to his feet, supporting Simon, and quickly ran toward the corner where the ammo was launched.

Maya had a waterproof backpack on, and from the size and contour while running, it seemed to hold a portable device. Nearby was a small car parked, painted with skull graffiti.

She dropped the still-smoking ammo launcher and quickly opened the driver's seat, signaling them to get in the car.

John's Messiah's Eye had a rapid scan function in combat mode, using line-of-sight focusing to perform a brief scan, confirming that the RPG just now was a product of Raqi Military Industry, probably part of early aid to the Rift Party.

John and Simon ducked into the back seat.

"GO, GO, GO, GO..."

The four wheels kicked up gravel and spun madly, the rectangular headlights sweeping through the tunnel.

They quickly escaped the abandoned site, switched to the Jurassic ZT15 outside, with John taking the driver's seat.

The quality of the interior and armor instantly doubled.

John and the other two inexplicably felt a slight sense of security.

His Eye and built-in light band lit up simultaneously, with the retina-synced control system showing brilliant blue vehicle data on the screen, while the speedometer soared, and the four hefty explosion-proof tires roared as they spun.

The surging power was like a beast unleashed.

Da-da-da-da-da...

The automatic cannon struck again from behind.

The damaged-shell transport aircraft wobbled as it flew out of the cave, with four crab-leg-shaped vector engines turning backward, blue-white flames standing out sharply in the night, the distance closing in an instant.

[Time: 18:22]

"Time's running out... I mean, if we really intend to complete the mission Bone Shards gave us, we have to find a way to take out that thing behind us."

John glanced at the time on the windshield, recalling the mission objective, casually asking Maya, who was bandaging Simon in the back seat.

"Is old Du confirmed to be in that iron shell?"

"Damn it, definitely."

Maya and Simon controlled their postures, minimizing their exposure to the line of fire, as the trunk armor wasn't too reliable under the cannon's pursuit.

At this rate, they're finished sooner or later.

Maya thought for a moment, patting Simon's prosthetic to inquire about its specific model.

"Steel Hercules 65 Type!?"

"Phew, yes."

"Euro version or Asia version?"

Maya immediately questioned, her tone somewhat urgent, as if conducting a snap interrogation.

"Uh, North America locally made, with ligaments using Gaia Cells, the wrist components are the third-gen European special original factory... uh, do you get it?"

Simon, with a reminiscing expression, answered earnestly.

He never inquired deeply about Maya's identity; just from her speed in treating wounds and extracting bullets, he knew she was extraordinary.

"Absolutely fucking great, certainly can handle the recoil."

Maya crossed over the console to hand Hercules to Simon, letting John focus on evasive driving under the automatic cannon's barrage.

The night was heavy.

The lights of buildings in the downtown area rivaled the moonlight, outlining the contours of the winding suburban highway, with municipal solar markers scattered on both sides like satellites decorating around overpasses and curves.

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