While Jared Harris was brewing his next words, an SUV drove out from the blind spot at the corner.

The other driver was originally driving properly in their own lane, but after seeing them, suddenly crossed the solid line and charged toward them.

“Shit!”

Jared Harris's eyes widened as he cursed, quickly turning the wheel and steering the car toward the inner side of the mountain.

His car had good performance and he wasn’t driving fast, so the impact wasn’t too serious. Using the friction from the mountain, he safely brought the car to a stop. The SUV, on the other hand, braked hard, hit the guardrail, spun around, and ended up stopped behind them.

Jared Harris didn’t get out of the car immediately. Sensing danger, his whole body tensed, both hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He used the rearview mirror to observe the situation with the other car.

The distance was too great; he couldn’t see who was inside.

Soon, the SUV’s headlights came on again, and it floored the gas, charging at them once more.

At this moment, Jared Harris deeply experienced that Zachary Campbell really was a madman with no regard for his own life.

“Damn!”

Jared Harris started the car and accelerated forward, trying to put some distance between them and the car behind.

However, this stretch of road was full of sharp turns and big vehicles often passed through—it wasn’t suitable for racing. He wasn’t as reckless as Zachary Campbell and didn’t dare to floor the gas, but the car behind kept chasing them like a mad dog, constantly ramming their bumper, not caring about the consequences at all.

“How did he show up so early?!”

Old Franklin couldn’t sit steady in the back seat, tossed around by inertia. He reached for his sidearm, but after several tries, could only hold it in his hand, unable to aim and shoot.

Old Franklin shouted, “Drive steadier, will you!”

“How is it possible to drive steady on this mountain road!” Jared Harris was multitasking, his attention focused on the cars in front and behind and the sharp turns. He shouted, “The Vault, hold on tight!”

The Vault gripped the handle beside her, her face pale and green, a sour liquid churning in her stomach, almost rising up her throat.

Jared Harris managed to escape for a while, but still couldn’t shake off the car chasing them. The worst-case scenario happened.

At the next turn, several horns sounded. When the scene came into view, they saw a small truck overtaking on the curve, while a large red truck was coming in the left lane.

Jared Harris's pupils contracted, fear crawling up his spine as a chill, but it also made his focus sharper.

Rather than being caught in a pincer attack or hit by a big truck, Jared Harris made a split-second decision, slammed the brakes, and crashed into the guardrail.

The car broke through the stone barrier, tumbled down the slope, rolled over, and finally came to a stop, cushioned by the trees.

Chapter 123: Slaughter

The world spun rapidly. The Vault felt dizzy, unable to tell direction anymore. Her fingers turned white from gripping too hard; the weightlessness and impact, along with the airbags and seatbelt, made her chest feel tight and hard to breathe.

She squeezed her eyes shut, gritted her teeth, trying to endure the crash. When the car finally stopped, something hit her head, and warm liquid trickled down her forehead as her consciousness faded into a muddled darkness.

The inside of the car wasn’t too badly damaged, but when Jared Harris crashed, he deliberately turned the left side of the car downward, so now his left arm was numb from the impact.

After that violent crash, his mind went blank.

He leaned his head back against the seat, grimacing in pain, tears welling up in his eyes from the physical agony. He could only relieve it by taking deep breaths. When the white flash passed, his mind cleared. He wiped the blur from his eyes with his sleeve, gritted his teeth against the stabbing pain, and tried to lift his left arm.

The muscles in his left hand kept heating up and trembling; any movement made the pain worse. Jared Harris could only give up halfway, turning to check on The Vault.

“The Vault? The Vault!”

The Vault didn’t respond.

Jared Harris struggled to unbuckle his seatbelt, crawled over from the driver’s seat, and wiped the blood from The Vault’s forehead. Her features were tightly furrowed, a trembling moan escaped her lips, and she instinctively avoided his touch.

She still had some consciousness. Jared Harris breathed a sigh of relief.

The door on The Vault’s side was blocked by thick bushes. Jared Harris turned around and kicked open his own door, carefully lowered the seat with his right hand, carried The Vault over to the driver’s seat, and then got her out of the car.

Just this simple action left Jared Harris drenched in cold sweat. He laid her flat on the ground and quickly checked The Vault’s condition—no broken bones, and aside from her head, no obvious external injuries.

The situation wasn’t too serious.

Jared Harris exhaled and went to check on Old Franklin in the back seat.

Before the crash, Old Franklin had unbuckled his seatbelt, trying to lean out the window to counter the pursuer behind them. But the car flipped too suddenly, and he was thrown against the front seat, knocked unconscious.

Jared Harris half-crawled over the back seat, checked his breathing, and confirmed he was still alive. But since he hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt, Jared Harris couldn’t be sure if he had any serious fractures and didn’t dare move him.

·

“Captain Harris, look!”

A young man ran over with a laptop, turned the screen toward her, and hit play.

The video showed Zachary Campbell’s full face as he smiled at them in the surveillance footage.

“Is this a provocation? What does he mean by this?” The young man’s face showed anger. “He’s way too arrogant!”

Henry Harris’s expression was grave, and she didn’t speak.

When a fugitive is willing to expose his whereabouts, it means either he’s certain of victory and about to escape, or...

A woman’s voice reported over the channel: “Captain Harris, Zachary Campbell’s driving route is out. He’s heading toward City A. We’re tracking his vehicle, but lost track halfway.”

Henry Harris’s voice was stern: “What do you mean, lost track?”

“It’s just gone. We haven’t picked up the license plate or the same model car. He might have switched cars again. There’s a construction zone here, and the local economy isn’t great, so there’s a long stretch without surveillance. We can’t track him closely,” the woman said quickly.

The young man with the laptop slammed the keyboard and said sarcastically, “This Zachary Campbell is really cunning! Was he prepared for this? With his personality, he’s probably even arranged his own aftermath.”

When Leonard Campbell was arrested, he must have sensed something, which is why he acted so quickly. Years of disguise and criminal experience had made him plan everything in advance.

Henry Harris said coldly, “I think he’s just a cornered dog making a last-ditch effort.”

The young man asked, “What do we do now?”

The woman said, “We’re confirming the direction and readjusting the plan. Don’t worry, give us ten minutes.”

There was a barely noticeable tremor in Henry Harris’s voice as she softly asked, “What’s the best way for Zachary Campbell to provoke us?”

“Huh?” The young man looked up. “What is it?”

Henry Harris looked at the distant mountains, her voice ethereal: “It’s to kill another enemy right under police pursuit and protection.”

Everyone felt a chill run down their spines.

Henry Harris took a deep breath and shouted, “Stop searching, locate Little Franklin immediately, mobilize all nearby officers to check on them. Zachary Campbell has gone after The Vault!”

·

The car’s speakers crackled with static, and the phone under Old Franklin kept vibrating.

Jared Harris tried to get it out, but couldn’t manage. Then his own phone rang—the accident signal had already been automatically sent to the traffic department.

Jared Harris steadied his breathing and reported the casualties to the staff. Before he finished, Henry Harris called in.

Jared Harris switched the call, pressed the phone to his ear with a trembling hand, and composed himself. He told Captain Harris that the three of them had been ambushed by Zachary Campbell on the mountainside, and the other two were unable to move.

Henry Harris’s voice was tight, as if she’d been slapped across the face. But at times like this, both of them needed to stay calm.

She comforted Jared Harris in the steadiest tone, saying the police were already nearby and would arrive soon. She told him to stay safe.

Jared Harris simply replied, “Okay.”

After hanging up, Jared Harris panted heavily, leaning against the car door to collect himself.

He rubbed his face, breathed warm air into his palms, and when he felt a bit better, bent down to search for the medical kit under the seat.

At that moment, there was a rustling in the grass not far away. A figure jumped down from above and walked steadily toward them.

Jared Harris held his breath, licked his dry lips, picked up a stone from the ground, and crept along the side of the car, slowly approaching the person.

He crouched low, moving quietly according to the other’s footsteps. Before they met face to face, the other’s footsteps stopped first.