Julian Grant's heart skipped a beat. He looked down and saw his elongated shadow on the ground, a bad feeling rising in his chest. Before he could react, an iron rod was already swinging toward him.

“Damn!”

Julian Grant shouted sharply, dodging backward while raising his hand to block.

The iron rod struck hard against his right forearm, the pain forcing his fingers open, and the stone he had been gripping tightly fell to the ground. All Julian Grant could hear was a muffled roar like ocean waves, drowning out the sounds of his surroundings. At the same time, Zachary Campbell's face, half-covered by a mask, appeared before him.

Julian Grant clenched his back teeth, tasting a hint of blood in his mouth. He let out a low growl from his throat and, before Zachary Campbell could react, lunged straight at him.

Although Zachary Campbell was older, his movements were agile. He spun aside immediately, dodging Julian Grant's attack.

As they brushed past each other, Julian Grant swept his leg out, aiming a powerful kick at the other's ankle. He managed to knock Zachary Campbell down, but the momentum also sent himself crashing to the ground.

Despite his injuries, Julian Grant burst forth with unprecedented brute strength. He rolled nimbly on the ground, found his bearings, and, seizing the moment as Zachary Campbell struggled to get up, wrapped his legs around the other's right leg and yanked him to the side.

“Hah—”

Zachary Campbell let out a low shout as he lost control and fell beside Julian Grant. His mask had been scraped off during the fight, revealing his furious and savage face.

The two glared at each other with mutual hostility, eyes burning with intense fire, the murderous intent between them almost tangible, as if it could turn into blades and tear each other apart.

They grappled together. Both of Julian Grant's hands were nearly useless, giving him no advantage in close combat. Facing Zachary Campbell's fists, he bit down hard on the other's ear, jaws clamped tight as if he wanted to tear off a piece of flesh.

Zachary Campbell cried out in pain, grabbed a stone from the ground, and smashed it viciously at Julian Grant's head.

The two fought like wild beasts, locked in the bloodiest, most primal struggle.

Julian Grant's vision blurred from the blows, feeling his body temperature drop as blood rapidly drained from him. The strong taste of blood filled his mouth, making his stomach churn with nausea. Even so, he refused to let go, clinging desperately to the man before him.

Suddenly, a jolt of electricity shot through his waist, making his whole body convulse uncontrollably. Instinctively, he released his grip, limbs curling up, and was quickly shoved aside by Zachary Campbell.

Zachary Campbell clutched his ear, half-kneeling as he endured the pain. Once he recovered, he casually tossed the stun gun aside and staggered to his feet.

He didn't take the opportunity to retaliate against Julian Grant, nor did he spare him a glance, treating him as nothing more than a worthless maggot. He walked straight to the back of the car, found The Vault, and hoisted her onto his shoulder.

Julian Grant's vision was filled with sparkling spots. When his mind cleared, he saw Zachary Campbell carrying someone, about to disappear into the woods. He uttered a few meaningless sounds, anxiously crawling forward.

·

Harry Forrest's car screeched to a halt by the roadside. Seeing the car parts scattered across the road, he had a bad feeling.

The girl cried out in panic, “Hank Hall!”

Harry Forrest said gravely, “Go check it out.”

The girl got out and hurried to the smashed stone railing. Before she could get down, she saw Julian Grant, his face covered in blood, struggling to climb up.

Julian Grant's palms were cut open, leaving bloody marks wherever he crawled. He pushed himself with all his strength, inching upward. From deep in the woods came Old Zhang's weak but persistent cries.

For a moment, the girl was frozen by the terrifying, eerie scene, stunned and at a loss. It wasn't until Harry Forrest called out to her that she snapped out of it and shouted, “Someone's here! Still alive!”

Harry Forrest asked, “Where's The Vault?”

The girl relayed the question.

Julian Grant's whole body was trembling, his face twisted and terrifying, like a demon crawling out of hell.

He wanted to speak, but had no strength left. He could only point forward to indicate.

The sunlight was filtered by dense leaves, piercing through the gaps in blinding rays. The lingering mist on the mountain had completely dissipated, vanishing into the air. Under the blue sky, the long mountain road stretched on, destination unknown.

The girl slid down the slope to help, but as she did, she heard a car engine start. She looked up and saw Harry Forrest driving away.

“Ah—Hank Hall!” she screamed, but Harry Forrest was already gone. She glanced anxiously at Julian Grant, then continued down to pull him up.

By the time Julian Grant made it to the road, a police car with sirens blaring sped around the corner, leaving a long skid mark before stopping at their location.

“We've found the crash site! Captain Harris, we've found the crash site!”

·

The Vault was already half-awake when Zachary Campbell set her down. She leaned against a metal drum, her nose twitching as she caught a strong smell of gasoline in the air.

The Vault struggled to sit up, but her hands were tied behind her back, leaving her unable to move freely.

She opened her eyes and looked around, confirming she was in an abandoned factory, placed on a platform on the second floor. There was an old iron railing at the edge, but judging by the rust, it was unclear how much weight it could bear.

Shaking off the daze from the car accident, The Vault exhaled slowly.

“Zachary Campbell.” The Vault called his name. “Zachary Campbell, come out!”

No one answered. But The Vault knew he was there.

In the dead silence, the door on the first floor suddenly opened. As light streamed in, the sound of running footsteps echoed. The person stepped on scattered metal sheets, the hard soles of their shoes thudding dully, the sound clearly conveying their distance to those on the second floor.

The Vault crawled to the edge of the platform and saw a backlit figure stop in the middle of the hall, looking around.

“Harry Forrest!”

The Vault called down.

Harry Forrest looked up at the sound, took off his hat, revealing a young and handsome face.

“Zachary Campbell is gone.” The Vault's voice was soft, but in the quiet factory it echoed clearly. “He's still in this factory.”

Harry Forrest said nothing and ran toward her.

The footsteps on the stairs grew closer, and soon Harry Forrest pushed the door open and entered.

He crouched down to untie The Vault's hands, but the knot was tight and the rope especially sturdy. His fingers turned red from the effort, but he couldn't get it loose.

Before long, Zachary Campbell appeared as well.

The blood on The Vault's eyelids had dried, making her feel as if something foreign was stuck to her face. She half-closed her eyes, one brow raised higher than the other, watching the entrance.

Harry Forrest pressed a hand on her shoulder, pushing her behind him.

Zachary Campbell didn't take the opportunity to attack. He locked the iron door with a click, pulled out the key, and, in front of them, casually tossed it aside.

The Vault's eyelids twitched, both eyes fluttering wildly like tap dancers, setting her nerves on edge.

Zachary Campbell took a step forward, smiling as he drew a knife from behind his waist. Under their wary gazes, he tossed the knife to the ground and kicked it over with his toe.

A flicker of suspicion flashed in both Harry Forrest and The Vault's eyes, though they didn't show it. Harry Forrest stepped forward to pick up the weapon, keeping an eye on Zachary Campbell as he cut The Vault's ropes.

Zachary Campbell kept a distance of three or four meters, watching them quietly.

He seemed very patient, his movements and tone calm and unhurried. But if you looked at his face, you'd see a wild madness in his eyes, and the twisted smile at his lips would send chills down your spine.

The first time The Vault met him, he was a gentle, refined middle-aged man. Now, with his glasses off, all trace of that easygoing demeanor was gone. It was hard to believe the same person could have such completely opposite faces.

Once Harry Forrest cut The Vault's ropes, Zachary Campbell clapped his hands.

The crisp applause echoed alone, a celebration for one.

“Welcome. We finally meet.”

He spoke of his joy with sincere enthusiasm.

Chapter 124: Breaking Down the Door

Julian Grant sat in the back of the police car, while a young man beside him roughly cleaned his wounds.

There was a deep gash on his face, his nose was bruised and swollen, both hands badly injured—he looked like a disabled man.

Henry Harris frowned as he watched, advising, “Why don't you go back first?”

Julian Grant stubbornly replied, “No!”

From his expression, it seemed only drinking his enemy's blood and eating their flesh could ease his anger.

“There's no point in you coming along. Go to the hospital. If anything happens to you, we'll be in big trouble.” Henry Harris said seriously, “I promise you, we'll bring The Vault back safely!”

Julian Grant's eyes dimmed. He bit his lip and said firmly, “I want to see it with my own eyes... It was me who lost The Vault.”