Since the person on the other end of the line had told him to leave, there had to be a reason.
They had worked together before, and the caller had conscientiously helped him all along, respecting his ideas and artistic creations. He trusted that the person wouldn't play jokes or deceive him at a time like this.
The man looked around. The place he was in was virtually an iron fortress. Besides, with so many well-trained mercenaries present, how could anything possibly go wrong?
He really couldn't imagine what could happen to him.
Could it be a natural disaster—a tsunami or a volcanic eruption? No, he was in the mountains now. A mudslide or an earthquake?
Wait, had they even mentioned where he should flee to?
Regardless, he needed to get out of here first!
...
A private bulletproof car delivered him to a private helipad, where he transferred to his personal helicopter. Flying low over the urban area, it landed in the backyard of a countryside manor. From there, he switched to off-road vehicles, three identical models traveling together.
To prevent his movements from being tracked and exposing his location, he altered his route twice along the way. For the final stretch, he rode a golf cart along a forested path to an isolated building.
He hadn't dared to stop for a single moment throughout the journey. Only when he was entirely inside his most defensible stronghold did he finally relax a little.
Steel doors with dual iris and fingerprint locks, along with dense clusters of security cameras like countless eyes watching the surroundings. The interior was a comfortable residential space, while outside the windows lay a private forest.
Leaving his bodyguards in the outer room, the man tossed his jacket upward, catching it on a coat rack.
This was a safehouse comparable to a bomb shelter.
Money could solve many problems. He could guarantee that no one could breach this place; even a nuclear weapon wouldn't destroy this underground bunker.
Underneath, there was even a man-made forest park, an artificial lake, and warm artificial sunlight. As long as he had money, these facilities would never cease operating.
Every area was as bright as day; the subterranean environment was even more luxurious than the actual surface world.
Recalling his collaborator's warning, the man closed his eyes and raised the display screen before him, which connected to the surveillance feed of that mountain cottage.
He thought to himself that it might be an assassination attempt. He wanted to see who had the nerve to try and assassinate him!
If there really was danger, it was a good thing he had received help from a smart person and had the foresight to come here. When the time came, he would catch the intruder off guard, subdue them, and leverage them to restrain the organization behind them, leaving him with no further worries.
If there wasn't, all the better.
At this thought, he relaxed entirely, letting himself sink into the couch as the soft leather supported his back and waist.
The glass pressed against his palm, the liquor slightly cool. The room maintained a constant temperature as the ventilation system blew a gentle breeze, making the glass cast shimmering rings of light under the lamps.
The man let out a comfortable sigh. The worry and suspicion he had felt earlier evaporated completely. Regardless of whether his collaborator's information was accurate or not, he was currently safe.
He was, and always would be, the mastermind behind the curtain. His surveillance covered everywhere; he knew everything and manipulated everything.
The outermost perimeter was an indestructible giant gate, while the residence itself was an invincible iron cage. Mercenaries and bodyguards guarded the outer layer, each possessing formidable combat capabilities.
The security monitors glowed in the corner of the wall, but he was already too lazy to check them. The defense of this room was so formidable that it was an absolute safe haven.
The forest park outside had been built two years ago, but many structures were still incomplete, making moving in now feel a bit rushed.
Now, he could take a look at the progress.
Feeling his eyes grow tired, he decided to look at some greenery. He waved his hand and instructed the smart AI to open the curtains so he could admire the scenery outside.
The smart AI acknowledged the command, long lights illuminated, and the curtains rustled open to the sides.
Beyond the window, besides a tranquil view of green plants, flowers, trees, birds, and butterflies, there was also a figure standing extremely close.
Separated by a single pane of glass, the man successfully locked eyes with a somewhat familiar figure whose expression was practically ferocious.
His serene, peaceful expression melted like ice cream, his facial features twisting in horror.
“—Wait!”
The report of a mercenary came through the communicator.
“Sir, the only surviving woman on Jiao Island vanished into thin air. We searched the island for a long time but found no trace of her.”
“I suspect she might have hidden in the ocean. To prevent her from reaching the mainland and contacting the authorities, we'd like to dispatch boats to conduct a grid search.”
“Rest assured, your artistic masterpiece will surely be a success. We will not let her escape this island.”
...
New update~
The comic is updated~
Although A9 was currently bound to Lin Mo in real time and could only move around her side, that didn't stop it from peeking at the comic updates to gather intel on the main character or other figures.
Maybe it would prove useful. Besides, it knew that after leaving Licheng, it no longer possessed the ability to know the plot in advance, so Lin Mo had grown rather cool toward it.
Now that she also had the help of Canglan Agency's "#1 Genius"—who was practically a cheat-level existence—it feared that one day she might remember this useless item, wad it up, and destroy it.
The interface before it shifted. A9 originally wanted to look at a few familiar faces to cleanse its soul, but the face that met its eyes was still Lin Mo's.
A9 fell silent.
Lin Mo sure gets a lot of screen time. Not bad, not bad. Higher attention means stat increases.
But with Lin Mo's physical stats, does she even need stat boosts? What kind of monster is this comic trying to create...
It swiped downward on the screen. The artist drew a scene—it was still Lin Mo. It kept scrolling down.
Lin Mo, Lin Mo, Lin Mo, Lin Mo, Lin Mo, Lin Mo, Lin Mo... What the hell?!
A9 turned in shock to stare at Lin Mo on the helicopter.
Are you really the main character?!
...
The red dot on the phone screen began to move. Lin Mo zoomed in and out. She looked up toward the front of the helicopter, but the pilot didn't seem to need her reminder, heading purposefully toward the destination.
She watched as the helicopter's flight path and the red dot's final trajectory magically converged into a single point.
Lin Mo said nothing more. She lowered her eyes and closed them to rest her mind.
“Hey,” the woman... girl in the driver's seat turned around. She had dry, light brown short hair and a crescent-shaped scar beneath her eye. She looked relatively young and was short in stature.
“Boss told me to come help you.”
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