Chapter Seventy: Master of Speed

When Wu Hua sprang up from the coffin lid with a sudden carp leap, the system prompt chimed in: Party disbanded. Peasant Woman Three Fists has left the party, Madman has left the party, Passerby A has left the party.

There was no time to think. Wu Hua rolled backward in a nearly acrobatic backflip, landing sprawled atop the farthest coffin. The move was anything but smooth—he crashed onto the lid, stars exploding before his eyes.

The Desolator in Peasant Woman’s hands finally roared to life, spitting shell casings as a hail of bullets tore through the air in Wu Hua’s direction. In the pitch-black tomb, some bullets streaked like meteors, drawing arcs of white light overhead.

The distance was at least a hundred meters. The Desolator might lack accuracy, but the sheer density and ferocity of the barrage was overwhelming. The stone coffin was battered, dust and debris billowing up as if countless raindrops pelted its surface.

Luckily, Wu Hua had leaped in time; the coffin in front shielded him from Peasant Woman’s attack. But he was pinned flat, unable to lift his head. He’d already witnessed the Desolator’s power—a single shot meant around two thousand points of damage; two would leave him severely wounded, three meant certain death.

Meanwhile, Passerby A was dumbstruck. He couldn’t understand why Peasant Woman had suddenly turned on Wu Hua. Some things are simply beyond the comprehension of a novice just stepping into the martial world.

Peasant Woman kept her gun trained, sweeping endlessly, spent shells clattering around her feet, forming a golden ring.

“Big… big sister,” Passerby A’s heart pounded. “Big brother is one of us…”

The muzzle flashes lit up Peasant Woman’s savage face. “Who’s one of us with him? I camped for days at the Dreamstar City service port just to take him out.”

Passerby A was completely bewildered. He had no idea what was going on.

But Wu Hua heard every word, and his heart skipped a beat. Lying low atop the coffin lid, he shouted, “Brother, don’t you get it? They’re in it together—they’re all the Seven Fairies from Blue Ocean Corporation! They set us up, used us to clear the way, and now that we’re no longer useful, they’ll get rid of us. If I die, they won’t let you go either! The Seven Fairies of Blue Ocean aren’t as friendly as you think. Ask her yourself if you don’t believe me…”

Passerby A’s expression changed. He clearly knew Blue Ocean’s infamous reputation. The Seven Fairies were said to be as beautiful as flowers, pursued by countless men in Phantom Moon City. But unless he’d seen Peasant Woman’s betrayal with his own eyes, he would never have believed they could be so ruthless.

“Big sister, you…” Passerby A turned to her.

Peasant Woman, still firing with gusto, laughed, “That’s right. I’m the second of the Seven Fairies—Peasant Woman Three Fists. Don’t worry, little brother. We won’t harm you. Once we deal with Madman, help me clear the way and I’ll pay you five thousand credits. Isn’t Blue Ocean’s promise enough for you?”

Passerby A hesitated. Five thousand credits was a huge temptation for him. But Wu Hua grew anxious at her words. “Don’t trust these women! Little brother, you’ve seen the Survival Road mission. Their sniper, Snowy Night Fairy, kills her own allies—what chance do you think you have? Trust your big brother—I won’t lead you wrong!”

From below, Cold Plum Laughs at Snow taunted, “Madman, don’t waste your breath. If you’re going to die, don’t drag others down. Hey up there, little brother, don’t worry. We won’t hurt you. You’re in the best spot. Help us take out Madman and I’ll give you ten thousand credits.”

Passerby A was stunned once more.

Wu Hua realized things had turned dire. He decided to take a gamble, taking a deep breath and shouting, “Passerby A, do you know why I hired you as our guide?”

Passerby A froze, unable to understand why Wu Hua would bring this up now.

Wu Hua shouted, “When I first played Star Wars, I was just like you—broke, no gear, dirt poor. I had those tough days guiding for others too, hoping someone would give me a hand. That’s why, out of all the experts, I chose you. Listen—I’ll pay you fourteen hundred credits whether I die here or take these women down. I don’t care about anything else. A man keeps his word. You’ll need to survive in Star Wars. If word gets out you killed a teammate for money, who’ll ever team up with you again? Are you a man or not?”

His final question rang out, his voice echoing. He was betting that Passerby A, still a student, would be moved.

Gunfire raged on. Passerby A stared at the distant coffin, Wu Hua’s words making sense. Something deep inside was stirred—memories of picking up trash to sell when the game first launched, getting killed by monsters because he couldn’t afford potions, being bullied by higher-level players, even being stiffed for guiding…

Every player has suffered such hardships and disappointments in the game.

“I…” Passerby A faltered, at a loss for words.

Cold Plum Laughs at Snow called up from below, “Stop listening to his nonsense. Gunners, get the cables ready, pull down that coffin. Warriors, prepare your weapons—skewer that brat!”

Wu Hua knew that if he didn’t act now, he was finished. He shouted, “Little brother, I never intended to make it out alive today. The mechanism is in the left eye of the cat statue—press it and the whole tomb explodes. Where you’re standing is the only exit. Do me a favor—finish me off. I’d rather die by your hand than by theirs…”

Passerby A nodded. In that moment, he chose to trust Wu Hua. The Seven Fairies might offer riches, but they weren’t his people. Wu Hua might not be able to give him much, but he was a true companion. And a good companion could help you create far greater wealth.

Passerby A turned and lunged for the cat statue. Peasant Woman’s face changed—she’d never expected Wu Hua’s words would sway him. She ceased fire, spinning her gun around. She could not let Passerby A succeed.

And just then—

Bang!

A heavy, powerful gunshot rang out, like a slap across someone’s face. Peasant Woman Three Fists spun in shock. “You…”

On the distant coffin lid, Wu Hua seized the instant she turned away, rising to one knee, gun leveled, and pulled the trigger in that razor-thin moment.

No words could do justice to the difficulty of that shot—not just its accuracy, but the fact that in the single heartbeat as Peasant Woman turned to kill Passerby A, Wu Hua stood, aimed, focused, and fired—a seamless, instinctive chain of movements.

He may have used Passerby A, but he never deceived him. Passerby A chose to trust him; he owed him protection. That was the fundamental difference between Wu Hua and someone like Peasant Woman Three Fists.

In that instant, the goddess of fate smiled upon Wu Hua’s courage and wit.

The bullet struck Peasant Woman squarely on the right cheek, beneath her helmet, piercing her right temple and exiting through her left ear.

“–7117!”

Green damage!

Peasant Woman collapsed with a thud, just like all those who’d fallen to Wu Hua’s gun before, her eyes wide, face frozen in disbelief and terror.

To think that the second-in-command of Blue Ocean could be taken down by a single shot.

But in truth, it wasn’t so incredible—she’d forgotten a simple truth: real strength lies not in the weapon, but in the one who wields it.

She had poured all her attribute points into that overpowered weapon, leaving her constitution and defense laughably low. Wu Hua had seized the perfect moment, targeting her weakest spot.

Her body tumbled from the altar, dissolving into white light before it hit the ground. Wu Hua saw clearly—she barely dropped any potions, but ammunition scattered everywhere, and even the Desolator itself was among the loot. Sadly, he had no way to claim it. That, he thought, was a true pity.