The morning passed quickly. The simulated sunlight mirrored reality perfectly, the blazing sun making the air feel stifling.
Bai Chunian checked Lu Yan and Bi Lanxing’s mission books. Their remaining locations weren’t nearby. Lu Yan’s second task was at the hospital, only fifteen minutes’ drive from the library.
But one detail caught his attention: Bai Chunian kept an eye on the kill feed in the sky. A team called Ghost Hunters was frequently scoring kills. Roughly counting, the feed had broadcasted about twenty-nine kills. The most frequently appearing name was “Ghost Hunters – He Suowei,” appearing at least nineteen times. The other three team members’ names also appeared repeatedly.
Only two hours had passed since the exam began, and Ghost Hunters had already claimed nearly thirty kills. The city map was vast, and not all seven or eight teams were concentrated in one place, so it was clear: Ghost Hunters drove around hunting people, aiming to accumulate maximum kill points early, then complete tasks once the population thinned.
On the surface, this tactic seemed efficient, but it was highly risky. ATWL was a survival test—if the team hit a hard obstacle and was wiped out before 48 hours, all those kill points would count for nothing.
It was well-known that cheating in ATWL was rampant, forming an industry of retired mercenaries and recently released criminals providing “exam assistance” as a living. Choosing a reckless, high-risk tactic like Ghost Hunters implied extreme confidence in their own abilities.
Bai Chunian leaned under a load-bearing beam, lazily fiddling with the confiscated silencer, humming softly: “This one’s a godsend… looks like it’s more than just hiring help.”
Lanbo perched on the library’s steel beams, his tail coiling around the metal, listening to the kill feed. Though unfamiliar with human language, he was highly sensitive to repeated broadcasts. Ghost Hunters had clearly caught his interest.
“Come down.” Bai Chunian patted the spot beside him.
Lanbo slithered down the steel beams and sat next to Bai Chunian.
Bai Chunian noticed him dismantling and reloading the .44 Magnum, and teasingly said, “Feeling like fighting?”
Lanbo shook his head gently, spreading his arms to circle Bai Chunian protectively in the corner.
Bai Chunian froze—he’d forgotten that, given Lanbo’s limited understanding of human technology, he couldn’t comprehend the physical VR interface. Lanbo was treating this as a real battlefield.
“Protect me, huh?” Bai Chunian smirked, pinching Lanbo’s cheeks to form little dimples, eyes gleaming coldly. “You tried to take me out so fiercely back then, just to fight over a prison release spot—remember? I haven’t forgotten.”
“You… with your tiny ability, challenging me… I had planned to go easy, let you out, free. You didn’t need to rush, didn’t need to be… so harsh.”
Lanbo initially listened calmly, then increasingly tried to grasp Bai Chunian’s meaning, recognizing the helpless yet pained expression in his eyes.
Seeing the omega like that, Bai Chunian pinched Lanbo’s cheeks again: “What do you think you can do if you run? I’ll just catch you again. Tell me—do you like me?”
Lanbo pressed his lips, looking around helplessly. Lu Yan, planning routes nearby, finally lost patience and swatted Bai Chunian’s hands away: “He can’t even talk, why are you bullying him?”
Bai Chunian shrugged nonchalantly: “Give adults some time to discipline their own wives, little bunny.”
“That it? That’s you?” Lu Yan rolled his eyes and, with a pop like a plunger, lifted Lanbo—who was clinging to the ground with electromagnetic force—and carried him away, tail dragging behind.
After a ten-minute break, they set off. Bai Chunian drove, stopping first to fill the gas tank, then headed to the hospital. Lu Yan’s second mission was to locate a hallucinogenic drug, and the hospital also contained a fixed supply box. Mistiming entry would inevitably lead to a costly firefight.
Bai Chunian lit a cigarette, speeding down the highway. Unfortunately, he hadn’t snatched a sports car—otherwise, he could have relished the thrill of the road like a proper hitman.
Lu Yan: “Why are you driving so fast?”
Bai Chunian: “Ah, been too busy lately. Haven’t raced in so long, makes even a Wuling minivan below look elegant.”
Just as they were talking, a bright green Lamborghini roared past them, sending vibrations through the air, racing toward the end of the highway.
Bai Chunian flicked the ash from his cigarette out the window. “I’m chasing. There are only two of them.”
Lu Yan leaned halfway out of the driver’s seat. “Can we catch them?”
“Yeah,” Bai Chunian said. “Even in economy mode, a big car burns twenty-seven liters per hundred kilometers. There’s no gas station on their route—if they keep flooring it, they’ll run out eventually.”
Sure enough, the glaring green vehicle stopped in a distant villa district. Two alphas in team uniforms jumped out, guns in hand, and went up the building.
Bai Chunian deliberately slowed, driving into the shaded greenery near the villas, fingers tapping on the steering wheel, waiting for the right moment.
“They’re on the second floor, headed for the balcony. Little bunny, you two clear them when the time comes.”
Lu Yan and Bi Lanxing nodded, loading their guns, ready to get out.
To remain concealed, they stayed on the back side of the balcony. From that angle, the balcony was invisible; they could only estimate enemy positions through experience and sound.
Suddenly, the kill feed broadcast over the sky:
[Ghost Hunters] He Suowei kills [Separate Assault] Meng Rui
[Ghost Hunters] Gu Wulu kills [Separate Assault] Yuan Kong
“Wait.” Bai Chunian called out, stopping Lu Yan and Bi Lanxing, who were about to sneak out. He released the handbrake, spun the wheel, and sped away from the villa district via a narrow path.
“Huh? Huh? Leaving? Why are we leaving?” Lu Yan pressed his face to the window, reluctant to give up the two easy kills.
Bai Chunian drove with one hand, the other resting on the passenger seat. “Those two in the Lamborghini probably got wiped.”
“But I didn’t hear any gunfire.”
“Two kills, one jump—both Ghost Hunters. Likely unarmed or melee kills. They were ambushing in the villa district, using other teams as bait. If we’d gone in, we’d have been trapped by those bastards.”
Lu Yan shivered. “You… your aim’s pretty decent. You’re afraid of them?”
Bai Chunian laughed. “I’m afraid of losing you.”
“Pfft.” Lu Yan grumbled, full of indignation.
“No worries. The Separate Assault team hasn’t been fully wiped yet. The remaining two should be nearby. We’ll sweep around and see if we can flush them out.”
Bai Chunian circled the area. Passing a kindergarten, he heard the faint sound of chairs scraping inside.
“Tsk, whose little cutie is hiding here?” Bai Chunian turned the car straight into the kindergarten’s main building. The four of them approached from two directions, cutting off escape routes.
A shadow flickered across the dance hall. Bai Chunian noticed instantly, handing the M25 to Lanbo. He took Lanbo’s .44 Magnum, propped it behind the stair seating in the dance hall, and through the comms told Lu Yan: “I’ve got the dance hall covered. Go in and take them out, then flank the other one.”
“Copy.” Lu Yan grabbed his Desert Eagle, climbing through the window. He kicked over a scattering device in the dance hall and dropped in from above, muzzle trained on one Separate Assault member.
Two shots echoed in the silent hall.
The broadcast immediately reported:
[Whatever Squad] Lu Yan kills [Separate Assault] Ali
At the same time, Lu Yan stumbled back, clutching a chest wound in his collarbone. Blood gushed from the entry point; his health bar dropped to near zero.
Bai Chunian’s heart sank. He had just perfectly set up that shot. That person had a gun, but with Bai Chunian’s aim, there was no way they could have fired and hit Lu Yan.
A sniper was at a distance.
Bai Chunian traced the shattered window hole to locate the sniper. A faint reflection revealed the position. The face looked familiar—an Omega they had met before the match, Xiao Xun.
“Tsk, that damn sniper.” Bai Chunian helped Lu Yan staunch the bleeding and injected a recovery serum into his health bar.
Lanbo set the M25 at a high vantage point, eyes sharp, gem-blue pupils peering through the scope. In the sight was a pale, handsome Omega face—Xiao Xun, aiming at him simultaneously.
“Lanbo, engage him.” Bai Chunian trusted Lanbo’s marksmanship. The special ops experimental subjects were all weapon experts—nothing beyond their skill.
Almost simultaneously, two gunshots rang out, one near, one far.
The brief fractions of a second felt like a century. Lanbo groaned as he was hit in the collarbone, the impact blasting him two meters back. Scarlet blood spattered, and his health bar plummeted, leaving only a sliver of red.
The sky remained silent—no kill feed notification.
Bai Chunian froze.
Lanbo… hadn’t even countered that Greyhound Omega.