But he couldn't budge Crag.

  Instead, he was yanked back by the giant.

  Kane’s temper flared instantly. He pivoted and delivered a sharp kick directly to Crag’s calf.

  Crag stumbled, turning to glare at him with fury.

  "Is your stone head going to stop an electromagnetic spear? Or are your fists faster than those bikes?"

  Kane’s voice was rapid and sharp. His pupils had contracted into dangerous vertical slits, locking onto the lead motorcycle.

  This wasn't even the same league of combat.

  Just as the lead bike plunged downward—the rider close enough to see the bloodstains on Kane’s face—Kane lowered his center of gravity. Instead of retreating, he lunged forward.

  He spread his fingers, the faint currents in his palm swirling into a frenzy.

  Then, as if throwing an invisible dagger, he hurled the energy toward the bike’s front wheel!

  [ Aero Blade ]!

  Whiz!

  A cross-shaped distortion in the air materialized out of nowhere, precisely slicing into the sidewall of the high-speed tire!

  The ear-piercing pop of exploding rubber followed.

  The lead motorcycle lost control instantly. The front end jerked sideways, and the entire vehicle flipped, skidding across the sand.

  Hard metal parts scraped against the ground, sparking a shower of orange light as the raider let out a roar of rage, slamming heavily into the dirt.

  Screeech!

  The two bikes behind them were caught off guard, slamming on their brakes and plowing deep furrows into the sand.

  The opening!

  "Go!"

  Kane didn't even look back at the results. He grabbed the dazed Crag, let out a low growl of command, and bolted toward the jagged rock walls and the mutated forest nearby.

  "Roar!"

  Crag stumbled under the pull but finally snapped out of it. His rage was suppressed by the primal instinct to survive as he took massive strides to keep up.

  Three raiders rose from behind the overturned bike.

  The leader shook the sand from his head. One of his arms was a solid black mechanical prosthetic; the alloy fingers flexed with a rhythmic, metallic clack-clack.

  "Blackhand, that kid is a freak!" one of his men shouted.

  The leader known as "Blackhand" raised his mechanical arm. A red dot on the prosthetic flickered, activating a scanning function.

  "He won't get far. Thermal signature is clear. Hunt them!"

  Kane pulled Crag headlong into the twisted, complex terrain of the mutated forest.

  The warped, alien flora—with their massive leaves and tangled vines—served as a natural barrier.

  "They have thermal scanners!"

  Kane spoke rapidly as they ran.

  "Don't run in a straight line. Use the plants to cool down and mask our silhouettes!"

  Despite his bulk, Crag was far more experienced in the forest than Kane. He found the perfect footholds, moving his massive frame with surprisingly little noise.

  But the advantage of technology quickly became apparent.

  Bang!

  A bullet grazed Kane’s ear, the heat instantly shearing through a charred branch behind him.

  The Iron Hand thugs, equipped with modified mechanical legs, possessed incredible leaping power. They moved through the rugged terrain as if it were level ground, rapidly closing the gap.

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  The threat of death followed them like a shadow.

  Crag’s speed was gradually flagging.

  His massive frame was ultimately a disadvantage in woodland that required frequent directional changes. More importantly, the hatred accumulating in his chest was steadily incinerating his rationality.

  Seeing the pursuers drawing closer, Crag suddenly lurched to a halt and violently shoved Kane away.

  "Kid, go! I’m going to go down fighting!"

  His eyes were bloodshot. He roared, preparing to turn back for a fight to the death.

  Slap!

  A muffled thud rang out, sounding like a hand hitting a stone wrapped in leather.

  Kane had slapped Crag across the face with every ounce of his strength. The massive recoil instantly numbed his entire arm; his palm stung like fire.

  Crag was stunned.

  It wasn't because of the pain, but because of the sheer humiliation and shock.

  His massive body remained motionless. The two-and-a-half-meter giant stood frozen, looking down in disbelief at the youth who only reached his chest—a youth whose gaze was colder than midwinter.

  "Old Tock taught me how to survive, not how to die alongside a moron!"

  Kane’s chest heaved violently. There wasn't a trace of warmth in his pupils.

  "If you want revenge, then shut the hell up and follow me!"

  In that moment, the aura Kane projected actually caused Crag, a Stoneborn warrior, to feel a flicker of dread.

  Without another word, Crag silently turned and resumed his frantic sprint behind Kane.

  However, the path ahead was narrowing.

  Rumble—

  The deafening roar of rushing water reached them. The two were forced to the edge of a precipice.

  A turbid waterfall plunged down from a height of dozens of meters, forming a bottomless, murky green pool below that kicked up a veil of mist.

  A dead end.

  In the forest behind them, the flickering beams of tactical flashlights from the pursuers were already visible. They could even smell the faint scent of gunpowder drifting through the air.

  "Jump!" Crag pointed at the pool below, prepared to stake everything on a gamble.

  "Jumping makes us sitting ducks!"

  Kane let out a low growl and used his dagger to slice a deep, bone-chilling wound into his own arm.

  He ignored the gushing blood. Instead, he thrust his arm over the edge of the waterfall, letting the spray catch the blood and sweep it into the torrential river below.

  Once finished, he fixed his gaze on a patch of soft mud near the waterfall, covered in dead branches and fallen leaves that had been washed up by the flow.

  That was the spot he had noted when they passed by earlier.

  "Get over here!"

  Kane grabbed Crag, giving him no time to react.

  Right here!

  With a thought, he activated the skill he had mocked a thousand times—the "doggy paddle."

  [ Phase Burrow ]!

  A strange energy instantly enveloped Kane’s entire body.

  He felt as though he had become a pebble dropped into water. The surrounding soil was no longer a solid obstacle; it had transformed into a fluid through which he could pass.

  "Ugh!"

  Crag let out a muffled groan.

  He felt an irresistible, massive tug from Kane’s hand. Then, his two-and-a-half-meter frame was hauled straight into the soil beneath his feet by the smaller youth in a fashion that was as forceful as it was eerie.

  The world was instantly swallowed by darkness and a crushing sense of suffocation.

  The two of them were like a pair of chopsticks thrust into tofu, diving vertically.

  One meter, two meters, three meters...

  As they descended roughly three meters deep, Kane suppressed the bursting pressure in his chest. With the last of his strength, he coalesced a faint vortex of air above their heads.

  The swirling air churned the overhead soil, collapsing and smoothing over the hole they had bored.

  A few withered leaves were swept up by the current, settling perfectly over the disturbed earth. Not a trace of anything unusual remained.

  Having finished this, Kane was near total collapse.

  Inside the earth, there was only dead silence.

  Immense pressure squeezed from all sides, as if trying to grind their very bones to powder.

  Crag’s stone-colored face was turning purple from holding his breath. His eyes bulged, staring in terror at Kane through the darkness.

  This human kid... was in the earth like a fish in water!

  Kane’s expression was pained, but he was indeed still breathing.

  What kind of monster is this?

  Right then, the heavy thud of metallic footsteps vibrated from above.

  Thump... Thump...

  Black Hand’s cybernetic limb stepped onto the layer of soil directly over them. The heavy pressure transmitted through three meters of earth, causing Kane’s chest to tighten painfully; he nearly lost his breath entirely.

  "Dammit, where are they?" a subordinate’s voice drifted down, muffled.

  "Hell, there's a scent of blood in the water. It's fresh!"

  Black Hand’s cursing sounded hollow and resonant.

  "The thermal signatures vanished at the edge of the cliff. Those two bastards definitely jumped the falls!"

  "Boss, should we sweep the area again?" a lackey suggested.

  "Sweep my ass!" Black Hand’s voice was impatient. His mechanical leg stomped irritably on the ground, landing just a short distance from Kane’s head. "There are only two reasons a thermal signal vanishes: either their body heat was instantly masked by the cold waterfall, or they're dead. This kid is full of tricks; he definitely used the water to shake the heat-seekers! Follow the downstream! I want them found, dead or alive!"

  Crag’s body twitched slightly, as if he wanted to burst out immediately.

  Kane pinned him down with a death grip, his eyes signaling him not to move.

  The duration of [ Phase Burrow ] was bleeding away rapidly.

  To Kane’s senses, those final three minutes felt longer than a century.

  He didn't dare gamble.

  On the Wasteland, a hunter's patience is always their best weapon.

  Finally, at the very last second before the skill duration hit zero, Kane lunged upward.

  Pfft!

  The ground loosened. Kane and Crag burst from the soil like two buried fish being dug up, tumbling onto the surface in a pathetic heap, covered in slick, wet sludge.

  "Cough! Hack!"

  Crag sprawled on the ground, coughing violently. He spat out mouthfuls of sand and muddy water, greedily inhaling the damp air.

  A narrow escape.

  He took a long moment to recover before propping himself up. He turned his head toward Kane, who was also gasping for air.

  His gaze was that of someone seeing Kane for the first time—filled with shock, confusion, and a hint of awe.

  He opened his mouth, struggling for words for a long time before finally squeezing out a low, gravelly sentence:

  "That... what you just did... was that the 'Doggy Paddle'?"

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