TYMIMA Chapter 121

No one slept well that night. The moment Oliver heard the news, his water glass slipped from his hand.

 

The ceramic cup hit the floor, soaking the soft carpet.

 

He stared blankly at the ground, watching the cold water stain the beige carpet a deeper color.

 

Long-lost pain and fear swept over him, like a beast lurking in his body, ready to swallow him whole at any moment.

 

AGW Special Dangerous Death Row Prison.

 

Even though he’d been gone for more than ten years, those days were still etched clearly in his mind—he could even remember the details of every sharp pain.

 

Because not a single day’s suffering was ever the same. Once you entered that place, you’d know there were countless ways for despair to arrive.

 

“Oliver.” As a doctor, Fata looked at him with concern.

 

After these days of recuperation, Oliver’s body was clearly much better, but if he recalled that pain, he might fall into depression again.

 

Oliver was called back to himself by Fata, his gaze trembling, as if he’d made some kind of decision.

 

He whispered, “No one knows that place better than I do. I have to join the rescue mission this time.”

 

Fata could tell that as Oliver said this, his teeth were chattering lightly—he was deeply afraid of that place.

 

For an S-class with a tier-four ability to be afraid, one could imagine what a hellish, soul-crushing place it was.

 

As a doctor, he shouldn’t let Oliver get close to the source of his pain again, or recall every detail of that place. But Oliver was right—only he knew the internal structure of AGW Special Dangerous Death Row Prison, and every extra day Lucas spent there was another day of suffering.

 

Fata sighed, “This is probably a trap.”

 

With the Federation media blanketing the news, it was all to force the Black Lantern Society to show themselves. As soon as they went to AGW Special Dangerous Death Row Prison, they’d be caught in one fell swoop.

 

And Oliver was probably part of their plan too—they might already know he’s still alive. If this mission failed, Oliver wouldn’t die; he’d be captured by Si Hongche and thrown back into that cage.

 

The freedom, warmth, friendship, and happiness he had now would all become illusory, a cruel joke played by fate.

 

But they seemed to have no other choice, and could only be led by the nose.

 

Oliver slowly shook his head. His pale yellow pajamas still had the creases from sleeping—those were a gift from Dream Witch. There was a completed Lego olive tree in his room, left by Duma. On his desk was a gel pen, nearly full after a month of use, forgotten there by Lily…

 

His life was already full of traces of his friends. His memories were gradually being filled with warmth. He couldn’t accept their disappearance—unless he could disappear with them.

 

“The hardest part is, we’re all completely exposed now.” Oliver’s heart sank to the bottom.

 

Si Hongche’s 【Command Obedience】was something even he couldn’t resist, so Lucas certainly couldn’t.

 

Lucas had left Gangtan many days ago. Now that he’d been sent to AGW Special Dangerous Death Row Prison, it meant the interrogation was over.

 

Si Hongche must have dug out everything about the Black Lantern Society from him. The Federation summoning Lan Wendao to the restricted zone was a classic “invite the enemy into the trap”—once he went, he’d never come back.

 

But if he didn’t go, it would be the same as admitting ties to the Black Lantern Society, and the High Tower Guild would soon face a government purge.

 

But he couldn’t understand—if the Federation already knew all the real identities of the Black Lantern Society members, why not hide Lucas’s arrest, lure Lan Wendao to the restricted zone, and then send the Blue Pivot Inspection Team to surround them, catching them off guard?

 

Which should come first? Even he could figure it out—there’s no way Si Hongche hadn’t.

 

Could there be an even bigger plot?

 

But everything the Federation was doing now was clearly just to lure them into a prison break at AGW Special Dangerous Death Row Prison.

 

Sure enough, Fata asked, “Since we’re all exposed, why not just come arrest us directly?”

 

“Who’s going to arrest us?” Duma appeared in the doorway, hugging a pillow, his hair tousled.

 

He was barefoot, his eyes dark and bright, quietly watching Fata and Oliver.

 

Maybe it was the adult anxiety and sadness in their eyes that made Duma frown.

 

“Duma,” Fata called softly, unsure if he should explain how dire things were.

 

But Duma walked over, handed the pillow warmed by his body heat to Oliver, and said, “Don’t be afraid. Lance is here.”

 

With Lance here, Lance could solve anything.

 

He thought it was just bad people coming to catch Oliver again.

 

Oliver reached out to stroke Duma’s hair, but his eyes grew misty: “Duma, this time, it’s my turn to protect everyone.”

 

At that moment, Lance had already found an excuse to send Zhan Pingchuan away and was standing alone at the dock of Peach Blossom Spring Village.

 

Waves crashed against the stone steps, bringing layers of salty spray. The sky broke through the night, stabbing sharply into his eyes.

 

“What? Cooperate with the Ghost Eye Guild for the rescue?” Lance frowned deeply.

 

“AGW Special Dangerous Death Row Prison has existed for nearly a century, with several wardens, and never a single escapee. This mission is extremely difficult—life or death. We need more help.” Lan Wendao’s voice was heavy and suppressed. “The situation is urgent, I can’t explain everything now. All I can say is, Zhan Qinghe is trustworthy.”

 

“I know.” Lance looked calmly at the boundless sea and the breaking dawn.

 

“No, you don’t.” Lan Wendao said irritably. “Even though we’re rivals with the Ghost Eye Guild, but—”

 

“But you’re both ancients. The original purpose of founding High Tower and Ghost Eye was to support each other.” Lance cut in, precise and brief.

 

Lan Wendao froze. Apparently, the word “ancients” was a bit too shocking. He didn’t understand how darling (Lance) could suddenly come up with such an abstract term.

 

“Sandro told you, didn’t he? But it’s not really ‘ancients’…” Lan Wendao struggled.

 

Darling really would dig to the bottom of things, and Sandro too—exposing all his secrets without warning. But at least it saved time explaining now.

 

Lance didn’t dwell on it. Since their cooperation underwater had gone well, he quickly accepted the new situation.

 

“Si Hongche probably already knows everything about us. This restricted zone summons is most likely a trap. They’re so confident because they think you won’t dare go, and will expose yourself instead.”

 

Lan Wendao: “I guessed as much.”

 

From the moment he founded the Black Lantern Society, he was ready for a government crackdown.

 

If he stayed in Gangtan, with a dozen allied guilds around him, the government might not be able to take down the High Tower Guild quickly. But if he was captured, the situation would change completely.

 

Sandro would need to immediately unfreeze the next successor, but the successor wouldn’t have time to bond with the core High Tower members.

 

So it seemed, no matter what, he couldn’t go to the restricted zone.

 

“That’s why we must rescue Mad Clown within five days and figure out exactly what Si Hongche asked, so we can determine their next move,” Lance said calmly.

 

Five days—a truly urgent deadline. Even a cruise ship at full speed from Phobos Bay to Tasman took three days.

 

“Fata and Oliver have already decided to head to Phobos Bay immediately, with Duma providing remote support. This time, my, Zhan Qinghe’s, and Adrian’s identities are all extremely sensitive, so we can’t show up ourselves.”

 

“Ghost Eye will send Zhan Qinghe’s son to meet with you, and you’ll need to use negotiation and cooperation as the official reason—at least on the surface, we can’t give the Federation any excuse to find fault.”

 

“There will be some media present, but don’t worry—they’re all our own people. We need to put on a convincing act, and press releases will be issued, just without any on-site photos.”

 

Lan Wendao’s thinking was that, with so much still unclear, and not knowing how much the Federation truly understood, they couldn’t burn all their bridges at the start—what needed to be covered up must be covered up.

 

Negotiations over profit distribution between top guilds was perfectly normal. Though the two guilds had backstabbed each other plenty over the years, at least this time, on the Manxinghai, with many guilds as witnesses, they’d reached a cooperation agreement for the red parrot stone.

 

“Zhan Qinghe’s son? The one who’s been kidnapped sixteen or seventeen times and still isn’t dead?” Lance was a bit surprised.

 

First, it was already strange that the guild leader’s son could go missing so many times under the Ghost Eye Guild’s protection. That he’d survived and grown up was even stranger.

 

“I was shocked too when I first heard. Zhan Qinghe said that because he kept getting lost as a kid but was always safely returned, it was probably someone playing pranks, so they started raising him low-key,” Lan Wendao explained.

 

Lance thought this person had been ridiculous since childhood, and couldn’t help but worry: “Is his son reliable?”

 

“Zhan Qinghe admitted it. Yan Qili is in their hands, and this clue was discovered by his son sneaking into the Blue Pivot Building’s basement,” Lan Wendao said.

 

Lance raised his eyebrows.

 

To be able to sneak into the Blue Pivot Building’s underground and bring an eighteen-year-old cold case to Si Hongche’s face, he must have a special ability.

 

Lan Wendao added, “His son is S-class, and already has a third-tier ability at a young age. People like that are ambitious and have strong opinions, so darling, who’s in charge will depend on you.”

 

“Got it.” Lance narrowed his eyes slightly.

 

Elsewhere in Peach Blossom Spring Village, in a private café room—

 

Adrian was still composed, sitting upright as if nothing could shake him, but the whiteness of his knuckles betrayed his worry.

 

“President, I’ll go save him myself. Don’t drag Ghost Eye into this.”

 

Zhan Qinghe: “Are you kidding? You think it’s as simple as Calabash Brothers saving Grandpa?”

 

Adrian wanted to say Lucas was at most like a younger brother to him, so the grandpa comparison wasn’t quite right, and besides—

 

“What are the Calabash Brothers?”

 

Zhan Qinghe: “……”

 

Zhan Pingchuan shrugged, guessing, “Probably some ancient text.”

 

After all, Old Zhan was basically an ancient from a hundred years ago.

 

Adrian: “I know it’s not simple, but I owe him this.”

 

Zhan Qinghe: “High Tower Guild will participate in this rescue too. Lan Wendao has admitted to me that Lucas is indeed Mad Clown, and all Black Lantern Society members are in High Tower Guild.”

 

“Ghost Eye isn’t stepping in just for you. According to our predecessors’ will, our two guilds have always been like lips and teeth—if one is in trouble, the other must give their all.”

 

“Thank you, President.” Adrian didn’t refuse anymore. He and Zhan Qinghe had been friends for years, and he knew Zhan Qinghe was loyal and would never stand by.

 

“All in High Tower Guild?” Zhan Pingchuan, already aware of the Ghost Eye–High Tower connection, was surprised, “Who are they? How come I’ve never seen them?”

 

Zhan Qinghe: “You’ll see soon. I’ve arranged with Lan Wendao for both sides to meet in Phobos Bay under the pretense of negotiations. Our own media will be present. Adrian and I can’t show up, so you’ll represent Ghost Eye Guild.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan pointed to himself: “Me?”

 

But he was with Lance, and had planned to spend the rest of winter break taking Lance home. Now how was he supposed to find an excuse to leave his little fox?

 

Adrian asked, “Will Lan Qi be the one coming?”

 

Zhan Qinghe: “No, it’ll be Lan Wendao’s youngest son, the real head of the Black Lantern Society—White Pharaoh.”

 

“What?” Zhan Pingchuan was shocked. “Isn’t his son supposed to be terminally ill?”

 

And this sickly kid was actually the Black Lantern Society’s leader, so young and already so accomplished—how did all those years of illness not hold him back?

 

Zhan Qinghe: “Maybe he’s been secretly treated for years and got better.”

 

“White Pharaoh… I think Erdiff was killed by him,” Adrian said gravely.

 

Zhan Qinghe: “That’s right. And Lan Wendao told me Oliver didn’t die—he was rescued from the Thorn Prison by White Pharaoh.”

 

“Damn,” Zhan Pingchuan exclaimed from the heart. He’d been inside the Blue Pivot Building, seen where Oliver was held. Getting someone out of there was as hard as reaching the sky.

 

Zhan Qinghe sternly reminded his son, “So be serious then. Show the proper Ghost Eye Guild spirit, don’t let them think you’re unreliable.”

 

“Dad, don’t you trust me?” Zhan Pingchuan was surprised, feeling like this wasn’t something his sharp-eyed old man would say.

 

Zhan Qinghe groaned, “You’re the one I trust least.”

 

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)