Chapter Seventy-Four: Evacuation

White Palace, in the office of the head of state.

The shrill ring of an unremarkable telephone suddenly broke the silence atop Puchuan's desk.

He had been snoring, sprawled across his paperwork, but when his bleary eyes caught sight of which phone was ringing, he jolted upright at once, his pudgy hand snatching up the receiver.

There was no exchange of pleasantries; the voice on the other end got straight to the point.

“Someone has wiped out the Phoenix Society. One of my Lifebringers was killed.”

The words sent a shudder through Puchuan’s entire body. “What?!”

“The nearest military district has already begun the manhunt. I need you to mobilize every resource—seal off the coastline, lock down the airports.”

Puchuan didn’t hesitate for a second. “Understood!”

He raised his right fist high and shouted, “For the Lifebringers!”

“For the Lifebringers!” echoed the voice on the other end.

Puchuan hung up, his face contorted with rage—and a hint of fear.

He was a member of the Lifebringers too.

In fact, it was with the Lifebringers' help that he had ascended to the seat of the Free State’s head of state.

It was a powerful organization, counting among its members the most illustrious figures—families like the Rockefellers, the Carnegies. Most heads of state throughout the Free State’s history had also belonged to the Lifebringers.

As for Puchuan, compared to those historic figures, he hardly even counted as a participant within the Lifebringers—he was merely an initiate, one of the lowest rank.

“I must capture those people at all costs!”

“If the Lifebringers become dissatisfied with my performance, there’s every chance they’ll replace me—or worse, the next head of state to be assassinated could very well be me…”

Puchuan, his expression tense, shouted, “Quickly—patch through to all military districts and police headquarters at once!”

Meanwhile, a jeep was racing through the night.

The engine roared in the quiet darkness. No one spoke; only the sound of their breathing filled the cabin.

Though they had emerged victorious from the recent battle, not a trace of joy could be seen on anyone’s face—instead, there was only tension.

Behind them, the city shrank rapidly, sirens blaring, and military armored vehicles could be seen scouring the streets.

The previous fight had been hard enough. But now, the real challenge had only just begun.

The difficulty of the raid on the Phoenix Society had never been in the attack itself.

It lay in the escape.

Because their assault had been a complete surprise—the Phoenix Society could never have imagined that Daxia, simply because its own citizens had been arrested on their soil, would dare send a handful of operatives deep into the Free State to strike at the Phoenix Society in the dead of night.

This element of surprise left the Phoenix Society utterly unprepared.

But retreat was another matter entirely. The moment the alarm was raised, the Free State would have ample time to encircle and hunt down Lin Fan and his team, leveraging their vast military apparatus to seal off any escape route within their own borders.

Thus, the true ordeal of this revenge mission began only after Lin Fan and his comrades had won their fight.

“Don’t get nervous,” Zhao Guochen said quietly, flooring the accelerator. “We acted fast, and Mr. Gongshu Ming’s wooden bird worked perfectly—the surveillance has no trace of us.”

“They don’t even know what we look like.”

“They’re still focusing their search on Sanfan City—they’d never guess we’ve already slipped away.”

“I’ve laid low here with a few of my own men for some time, always prepared for a worst-case scenario. There’s a safe house in the next town up ahead…”

“Once we reach it, we’re safe. We just need to wait out the manhunt.”

As Zhao Guochen spoke, the outline of a Free State–style township appeared in the distance.

But as the jeep was about to enter the town—

“Don’t go in!” Lin Fan suddenly interjected.

Zhao Guochen was taken aback. “What?”

“This manhunt isn’t so simple. If we hole up here and get discovered, we’ll be trapped with no way out,” Lin Fan said gravely. “Get us out of here—straight out.”

“The longer we linger, the more chances for things to go wrong. Better to leave now, and you won’t risk exposing yourself.”

Lin Fan knew all too well—the Free State would never give up the hunt for them.

After all, he had stolen the Empress’s Phoenix Cloak.

Zhao Guochen thought it over, then nodded. “Right. We’d considered this possibility too. There’s an evac point at the nearest beach.”

With a roar, the jeep veered left at the intersection, heading straight for the coast.

The tension in the vehicle was palpable.

Everyone knew what would happen if the Free State managed to cut them off.

The first squad of the Godslayers, formidable as their combat prowess was, still couldn’t stand against the might of an entire nation’s military.

And if captured, Daxia’s government could do nothing to save them.

Before their departure, the head of state had said it plainly.

Daxia would acknowledge that they were citizens, but never admit they were official operatives sent to strike the Phoenix Society in the Free State.

It sounded cruel.

But such was the nature of this silent battlefield.

Countless Daxians fought and died on this invisible front, never to return home as heroes—only to pass quietly, their sacrifices unsung.

This was faith.

Zhao Guochen was one of those silent warriors of Daxia.

Fortunately, nerves held, and after an hour of hard driving, the jeep finally screeched to a halt at a rocky coastline.

It was not a tourist beach, but an inhospitable stretch of jagged rocks; at three in the morning, not a soul was in sight.

Zhao Guochen flung open the door and waved. “This is it!”

The members of the first squad of the Godslayers quickly piled out, Lin Fan eyeing the rocky shore with a furrowed brow.

The cold moon shone down, casting twisted shadows from the rocks, their outlines monstrous and menacing in the surf.

“Follow me,” Zhao Guochen called, picking his way over the rocks toward the water.

Lin Fan wasted no time, leading his team after him.

“Here we are,” Zhao Guochen suddenly stopped.

There were no boats in sight.

As the others looked on in confusion, Zhao Guochen knelt beside a massive rock, seemed to fiddle with something, then with a flick of his hand—

A camouflaged tarp came flying off.

The boulder had been nothing but a disguise. Beneath the tarp, three jet skis, secured with steel rods, gleamed in the moonlight.

“Hurry up—each one fits two,” Zhao Guochen urged. “There’s spare fuel on board. Once you’re on, head due 95 degrees—twenty kilometers out, there’s a speedboat waiting. Switch boats and keep going—two hundred kilometers farther, you’ll find a small sailboat anchored offshore.”

“Just act like you’re on a round-the-world voyage. Follow the sea route all the way home to Daxia.”

Lin Fan was about to leap onto a jet ski, then suddenly paused. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine!” Zhao Guochen replied. “I haven’t blown my cover. Besides helping you, I’ve got other missions to handle.”

“Get moving—I’ll unscrew the bolts on the rods.”

Zhao Guochen’s voice was urgent, pressing them onward.