Chapter 9.1

Adolf glanced at the items they were carrying, and sneered. “Trash, grab your things and get out here! Hurry up!” he barked.

The heavy gates creaked open, and the cold night air rushed in. They stepped into Mammon Forest, where darkness devoured the land, broken only by the moon’s ghostly glow.

The hunt was about to begin.

Mo Zimu had Tommy and Tom arrange the lanterns in a triangular formation. They first aligned two points in a straight line, then used a diagonal to find the midpoint, ensuring each point created a fork.

On the highest peak of Mammon Island, Geoffrey, his pale blond hair contrasting with his black uniform, peered down through an infrared binoculars. Benjamin stood beside a radar-like metal device, sweeping the area below through its scope.

Geoffrey smirked. “I see them. Four coming out of Mammon Prison. That’s right, four… Looks like we need to come more often. If we don’t, by the time we’re ready to play, the academy will have already wiped out all the prey.”

Benjamin lifted his head. “Only four. Who wants to have some fun?”

“Four?” Noè chuckled. “Geoffrey should go. He’s about to head back soon anyway.”

Geoffrey lowered the night-vision binoculars. “It’s been a while since I’ve had practice. Four should be enough for me alone.”

Beside them, Kōsō stood up, cracking his neck with a series of sharp, crisp sounds.

Noè laughed and said, “Looks like Kōsō wants to stretch a bit. How about I join you guys?”

Geoffrey grinned. “There won’t be enough to go around.”

Noè raised his hand and smiled. “I’ll just watch.”

“Strange!” Benjamin called out.

“What?”

“The infrared heat sensor just picked up a lot of small signals. I’ve lost track of the four targets.”

“Jenny and the wolf pups?”

“No, no. Jenny knows exactly where they’re supposed to be right now.”

Geoffrey leaned in for a closer look, his brow furrowing in concern. “Could it be that Big Mouth Adolf actually allowed them to use some kind of special equipment?”

Noè laughed. “That’s impossible. His seaside villa still has a long way to go before it’s paid off.”

Geoffrey raised an eyebrow and said, “We’ll know when we get there.” He then slipped his knife into his utility belt.

“We’ll stay in contact,” Benjamin called to his back.

Geoffrey didn’t turn around, just casually waved his hand.

—–

“Hey, are we really just going to stay by the beach and catch crabs?” Tom whispered to Mo Zimu, who was standing by the sea.

The tide was coming in, crashing against the fine sandy beach typical of the Caribbean, extending from the foot of Mamon Mountain all the way into the sea. Mo Zimu bent down, holding a small flashlight in his mouth, and waved his hand to signal Tom not to disturb him.

Not far away, Tommy was starting a fire in the sand, and Jack sat on the beach like a tower. Now Tom and the others finally realized that Jack was utterly useless.

While the others were running through the forest, Jack had only made it to the beach and was already out of breath.

“Tommy… are you really going to start a fire?” Jack asked hesitantly.

Tommy’s face remained expressionless as he nodded.

Mo Zimu had already pulled a large crab out of the sea and tossed it toward Tom. Tom fumbled, causing Jack to laugh loudly. Even Tommy, usually expressionless, smiled.

After the three of them laughed, they remembered that they were still the prey and wiped the sweat from their brows.

The crabs were covered in a thick layer of green algae, which had solidified and become part of the crab shells, showing just how carefree their lives had been. These crabs, completely unaware of any need to escape, were tossed onto the shore one after another by Mo Zimu, who treated them like he was clearing out an old nest.
Tom then brought them to Tommy to roast.

When the crab shells were opened, the fat, golden crab roe oozed out, and Jack and the others, sitting around the fire, ate with their mouths full.

Mo Zimu, the one who had caught the crabs, remained squatting by the sea, staring out at the ocean, lost in thought.

The ocean currents around Mammon Island at night were indeed very strong, with wave after wave crashing onto the beach. It was doubtful that even the best swimmer could manage to swim dozens of nautical miles in such turbulent waves to reach the other shore.

“Come eat something!” Tommy called from behind Mo Zimu.

Mo Zimu responded and walked over to join them. Jack, who had done nothing, greedily left behind a pile of crab shells next to him. Tom sarcastically remarked that he had finally discovered Jack’s strength.

At that moment, they weren’t thinking at all about the Hunter, who stood silently, staring at the parchment lanterns hanging from the low bushes. Some of them were decorated with depictions of the Last Judgment, showing a naked Jesus proclaiming the sins of mankind and condemning each one.

Geoffrey’s fingers lightly touched the lanterns, and Noè thought his expression seemed strange, so he asked, “What is this…?”

“They’re lanterns, Chinese things,” Geoffrey replied coldly as he withdrew his hand. “Good. Adolf really knows how to set the table. Looks like there’s at least one Chinese person involved.”

After eating, the four of them, led by Mo Zimu, ran to the closest lantern to Mammon Prison, hid in the bushes, and fell asleep.

The damp ground, covered in blue algae, was uncomfortable, but lying under the night sky, feeling the sea breeze as they dozed, was a bold move Tom and the others had never imagined.

At this time, Geoffrey, after thoroughly eliminating all the fixed heat sources in the forest, made his way to the beach. He discovered Jack’s terrifying masterpiece and laughed in disbelief.

He crouched down and picked up a piece of crab shell with his long fingers, let out a short laugh and mumbled, “Eating roasted crabs.”

He stood up, smiling slightly, and said, “We don’t need to check their little toys one by one. Let Benjamin work a bit harder. Once his detector finds a moving heat source, we’ll know, and we can move then.”

Noè smiled. “So, what should we do now?”

Geoffrey replied indifferently, “Don’t you want to eat roasted crab?”

As dawn approached, Tommy got up and nudged Mo Zimu and Tom, who were still asleep. “Seven, let’s go back to Mammon. If we stay out too long, Big Mouth Adolf will treat us as escapees.”

Tom muttered, “Froggy is such a pervert.”

Mo Zimu took out some long red items from his pocket, strung together with countless small strips.

Tom curiously asked, “More Chinese stuff? What’s this called?”

“Firecrackers!” Mo Zimu said as he threaded the firecrackers onto a stake. He turned to Tommy and said, “Tie them to a tree farther away and light the fuse.”

Tommy nodded, moving quickly to tie the firecrackers securely to a tree some distance away and lit the fuse.

The four of them took off running toward Mammon. When the firecrackers went off, the entire forest seemed to erupt. All the animals, including the well-trained Mammon wolves, scrambled in panic.

The commotion also alerted Geoffrey and the others. He heard Benjamin’s report through his earpiece and pursed his lips into a thin line.

“They might have guns!” Geoffrey frowned.

“Haha, the prey has guns now?” Noè laughed.

Kōsō stood up. Noè smiled and asked “So, are you going back, or are you going to join the Mammon wolves’ race?”

Geoffrey also stood up, replying indifferently, “I don’t believe they have guns. It’s probably just some lantern trick. Since they’re headed back to Mammon, let’s head that way too.”

Kōsō said, “There are many paths. Let’s leave it to luck.”

He vanished into the woods, while Noè stayed behind, following Geoffrey. “I’ll be the spectator and stick with you,” he said.

Their speed was much faster than Mo Zimu’s group, nearly several times quicker. As they ran, Tommy suddenly dropped to the ground, pressing his ear against the dirt. A moment later, he scrambled back up. “They’re catching up,” he said.

“Damn it.” Tom and Mo Zimu had no choice but to drag the heavy Jack forward with all their might.

Jack slowed down with each step he took. His body seemed to tremble with every movement, like ripples spreading through water.

Tom anxiously said, “Can you run any faster?”

Jack held his chest, breathless and unable to respond.

Mo Zimu whispered, “He has arrhythmia. Don’t rush him.”

“You’ve got heart… heart disease too?” Tom said with a bitter smile. “This is just perfect.”

Tommy, trailing behind, panted, “This isn’t good. They’re catching up. Should we hide?”

Tom shouted, “Mammon Prison is right ahead!”

“Can’t stop! Run!” Mo Zimu shoved Jack forward and let go of his arm. “You all go ahead. I’ll stay behind.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “Are you crazy? You wouldn’t even last against the kids from Samson Academy!”

“Yeah, Seven, stop talking nonsense! Run with us!” Tom urged, his voice tight with fear.

Mo Zimu replied, “I have a way to slip away.”

Tommy hesitated, but time was slipping through their fingers. He clenched his jaw, knowing he had no choice. Trusting Mo Zimu, he and Tom hauled the barely-moving Jack forward, dragging him toward the prison gate as the danger loomed closer.

Just as they were about to reach the prison’s gate, Geoffrey, Noè and Kōsō arrived at the same time.

Mo Zimu stood before them, raised his hand, and, to everyone’s surprise, was holding a small black handgun.

“Don’t move! If you take one more step, I’ll shoot.”

Though he was wearing a simple prison uniform, with a tall but unassuming physique and wearing rather dull glasses, he stood there calmly, gun in hand, speaking with such composure that both Noè and Kōsō were momentarily stunned.

Geoffrey stared at Mo Zimu, his expression shifting from shock to confusion. As if drawn forward, he took a step, unbothered by the gun aimed at him.

Noè, noticing that Geoffrey didn’t stop, quickly pulled him back and said, “Be careful!”

Tommy and Tom were already dragging the massive Jack toward the gates of Mammon Prison. The hunters could only watch as their prey slipped beyond the heavy doors.

Mo Zimu continued to retreat, step by step.

At the gate, Big Mouth Adolf stared in disbelief. The peculiar group consisting of the disabled man, the fat man, the one with poor eyesight, and the ignorant prisoner had returned once again completely unharmed.

As Mo Zimu reached closer, Adolf glanced at the gun in his hand and let out a laugh. “What he’s holding is just a piece of wood.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Mo Zimu spun around and dashed inside. Kōsō moved with almost inhuman speed, his blade slashing through the air. But the blade struck only the thick iron bars of Mammon’s gate as it slammed shut.

Geoffrey slowly walked up to the iron gate, and, through the bars, met Mo Zimu’s gaze. After a long pause, he said, “You… well, it’s impressive that you thought of using Chinese lanterns to cover up your tracks.”

Mo Zimu responded indifferently, “Heat sensors don’t just pick up humans. Lanterns can give off heat too, and so can animals.”

The sun rose behind Geoffrey, its warm light illuminating his handsome face and golden-blond hair. He had the effortless grace of a nobleman, always composed and elegant, no matter the time or situation. A faint smile played on his lips.

He raised an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes as he studied Mo Zimu for a moment before suddenly asking, “Do you know who I am?”

Mo Zimu smiled, “Sorry, people tend to ask me that, but I’m not interested in who you are… I suppose you’re the type of person who thinks they’re impressive just because their parents have a lot of money.”

To his surprise, the proud Geoffrey didn’t get angry. He moved closer to the bars, and in a low, slightly hoarse voice, he said, “We’ll meet again, Seven.”

Mo Zimu was slightly surprised that his name had been called so accurately, but he merely replied indifferently, “We’ll meet again.” Then, he turned and walked back toward his companions.

Geoffrey watched Mo Zimu’s back as his companions reached out to him, pulling him into the center, a gesture that reaffirmed his place within the small group.

Noè walked up to his side, and Geoffrey, still staring at Mo Zimu’s retreating figure, seemed lost in thought for a moment. After a long silence, he smiled and said, “Tell Norton that I don’t mind if the prisoners bring a little something with them next time. The hunt is more interesting this way.”