After overtaking the sluggish Toyota Corolla, the Hummer only slightly reduced speed before belching black smoke from its exhaust again and accelerating sharply. But just as they rounded a sharp bend, Fang Senyan couldn't help but let out an oath.

Ahead on the road lay the scene of a catastrophic pile-up involving some two or three dozen vehicles, the tableau dominated by raging fire, thick smoke, and screams. Against such a backdrop, the Hummer H6, for all its power, certainly couldn't be driven like a bulldozer to smash a clear path through.

Without hesitation, Fang Senyan slammed the switch for Off-Road Mode on the control panel, wrenched the steering wheel, and plunged the vehicle into the adjacent wilderness!

Yes, the Hummer’s performance on paved roads was comparable to that of a Jetta or a Santana, but when it came to true off-road capability, this machine was the undisputed king among civilian vehicles!

Amidst the roar of the engine, huge clumps of damp earth sprayed out from beneath the tires, mixing with vast swathes of crushed green grass that peppered the nearby trees with sharp impacts. It was obvious this lawn had been meticulously maintained, the owner having clearly poured immense effort into it, but now, hidden away inside his house, he was utterly incapable of lodging any protest.

Fang Senyan ruthlessly crushed several lawns under the tires, then demolished a beautiful picket fence adorned with blue and white morning glories, before plunging at over eighty kilometers per hour into a rickety wooden shed beside it, bursting forth from the dust and debris like some massive iron beast.

Ahead loomed a slick, steep slope exceeding sixty degrees—a gradient that would make most vehicles simply sigh and turn back. Seeing such a collision was inevitable, Mr. Gordon couldn't help but bellow, "Are you insane?" He was unceremoniously shoved toward the rear bar area by Zi to "reunite," while Zi herself settled directly into the co-pilot seat.

At the very instant of impact, before Fang Senyan could issue an order, a yellow glow emanated from Kurut’s hands.

The slope immediately suffered a minor collapse, revealing distinct steps carved into the earth. Fang Senyan mashed the accelerator to the floor, the engine letting out an unprecedented, ragged shriek. The custom-made Bridgestone specialized off-road tires delivered astonishing grip at this moment; torrents of wet soil were flung backward by the rear wheels, yet the steel behemoth managed to haul itself up the incline!

Breaking past this obstacle, the path ahead wasn't exactly flat, but it offered at least a temporary respite from the earth's relentless, encroaching tremors. From this vantage point, they could clearly see the boundless landscape stretching into the distance oscillating in a wave-like pattern, countless buildings swaying, collapsing, and trees bowing under the weight of this unprecedented apocalypse.

Undoubtedly, the shaken Gordon family began to tremble violently upon witnessing the scene. Dr. Gordon, unable to suppress his terror, shouted:

"Where are we going now?"

Fang Senyan replied calmly:

"Santa Monica Airport. There are planes waiting for us there."

"We could save at least half the time by taking the airport expressway!" Gordon immediately suggested.

Fang Senyan smiled, gave the steering wheel a sharp turn, and veered back onto another road with lighter traffic flow, barrelling through obstacles with sheer brute force.

The earthquake had now been going on for nearly five minutes. Houses that were nearly gone had already fallen; those still standing might hold out a little longer, ushering in a temporary period of relative safety. Despite the extreme danger of entering the city now, they had no choice but to grit their teeth and drive through to save time.

"The freeway should be a left turn," Mr. Gordon pointed out what seemed to be Fang Senyan's error, but he instantly clamped his mouth shut, his eyes widening! For he could see what had become of the airport expressway, elevated on its viaducts in the distance. If viewed from above, it looked precisely like a desiccated, dead snake.

The entire highway exhibited segmented collapse. Where a few bridge piers had proven sturdy, sections of roadway still clung precariously and askew in the air, but at least half the pavement had utterly given way, crammed densely with vehicles that couldn't move forward or back, destined only to plummet to the ground with the collapsing structure, or to tremble there awaiting the judgment of the earth.

Had they followed Mr. Gordon's suggestion for the so-called airport expressway, the outcome would undoubtedly have been a tragic, inescapable entrapment.

The road surface remained a scene of chaos. Fang Senyan, utterly cold-blooded now, smashed through everything blocking their path—vehicles, corpses, and even screaming, terrified living people. Though the Hummer was covered in scars, its interior remained largely unaffected—the engine still provided ferocious acceleration, and the hard inner shell effectively shielded the passengers.

Suddenly, one of the supporting piers of the adjacent elevated bridge groaned with a cracking sound, then completely disintegrated under the spreading web of fissures, unable to support the roadway any longer. Instantly, another section of the viaduct, four or five hundred meters long, swung down toward them, bringing with it hundreds of cars.

The sight was immediate and overwhelming, akin to a massive, thirty-meter-high dam suddenly breaching, sending a devastating flood surging forward!

Fang Senyan swore through gritted teeth and wrestled the wheel violently, executing a frantic, drift-like maneuver into a narrow side alley. Even so, two or three cars, propelled by the collapsing structure, slid madly toward them, gouging sparks five or six meters long along the asphalt!

Seeing the collision was unavoidable, the entire Gordon family screamed hysterically, but Fang Senyan remained calm:

"Zi."

Zi immediately opened her door, leaning halfway out, and extended a hand forward, palm facing the vehicles closing in from behind.

The invisible, transparent psionic barrier shot out with a heavy whoosh, hurtling toward the vehicles driven by what felt like the will of Death itself! With a powerful brace and shove from the side, it skillfully deflected the trajectory of the oncoming crash.

The white cement mixer truck, though still bearing down, was deflected by about fifteen to twenty degrees during its forward rush. It then slammed violently into the adjacent building about five or six meters from the rear of their vehicle, immediately losing control, spinning with a piercing screech as it crashed into the structure. That building, already riddled with damage from the earthquake, buckled under the force of the massive impact and collapsed in a thunderous roar, followed by a violent explosion.

Fang Senyan stomped the gas pedal and accelerated onward. Rounding the corner, they saw numerous high-rises shaking violently, as if seized by a fit, glass curtain walls shattering with loud cracks. People and furniture tumbled out like falling dumplings.

About twenty meters ahead, an unprecedentedly huge neon sign crashed down from the sky. This tattered mass, dragging countless electrical wires behind it, plummeted with the chaotic drama of a meteor strike!

The sign was at least twenty meters high and five meters wide. Though battered, dusty, and unimpressive now, at night it would surely have been the most prominent landmark in the city sky. Fang Senyan executed a frantic brake-and-slide maneuver, narrowly dodging the colossal object, sending shards of glass spiraling up and clattering across the ground.

"That sign must have cost a fortune. What a shame," Fang Senyan remarked casually, having had some experience with lighting installations from working on airships. To his surprise, an immediate reply came.

"Yes, it cost exactly one million, seven hundred eighty thousand, three hundred US dollars, and it was custom-ordered from Washington!" This came from Mr. Gordon, who was sighing heavily in the back.

Sanzai asked in confusion:

"How do you know that?"

Fang Senyan suddenly realized:

"The sign says 'Gordon Cosmetic Hospital'... Could this be it?"

The partially bald Dr. Gordon was already peering desperately out the window, his face etched with heartbreak.

"Yes, this is my private hospital. Oh..."

Suddenly, a group of people—men and women, seemingly white-collar workers—burst out of the hospital building. They were all ragged and filthy, looking utterly terrified. But just then, a nearby five- or six-story building collapsed directly onto them, covering them mercilessly. Only one woman, by some stroke of luck, survived, but her left leg was crushed, and she began screaming in despair and weeping beside the wreckage.

Fang Senyan had seen enough such scenes and was about to press the accelerator when he heard Dr. Gordon screaming wildly from behind, beating against the car wall regardless of the pain, his voice like that of a wounded beast:

"Stop! Save her, save her!"

Stopping now posed an enormous risk. The streets were lined with dense buildings that could collapse at any moment, blocking their path or burying them alive. The sooner they reached the airport, the greater their chance of survival!

But Fang Senyan caught sight of Gordon’s raw, red-eyed expression in the rearview mirror, and something shifted in him. He actually stopped the car, allowing Reef to get out and rescue the woman.

Reef and the others knew that saving one more person increased the burden they carried, but they followed Fang Senyan’s lead out of trust.

After pulling the woman into the car, they realized she was a blonde beauty. Though disheveled, her features retained a look of fragile loveliness, complemented by a voluptuous, very sexy figure. However, her left leg was broken, the injury severe enough that she wouldn't be recovering anytime soon.

As soon as she was inside, the blonde woman glanced around, then threw herself into Gordon’s arms, weeping and repeating one phrase over and over:

"I thought I would never see you again!"

Faced with this scene, Mrs. Kate’s expression was stiff with awkwardness. But she was clearly a kind person; once the initial shock wore off for Miss Brooke, she got a glass of brandy from Reef and offered it to her:

"Miss Brooke, you should drink this first, and then clean the wound on your leg to prevent infection."

Brooke clearly understood her impropriety and immediately released Gordon, whose face was equally embarrassed. She whispered a thank you. Her leg injury looked serious; the exposed, stark white bone had pierced the wound, which was matted with mud and grit. Given the makeshift conditions, strong liquor was the only option for numbing the pain. She cleaned the wound simply with pure water mixed with the liquor.

Of course, as a cosmetic specialist, Dr. Gordon was perfectly capable of performing this basic debridement, but the undeniable intimacy between the healer and the patient was obvious to anyone.

Reef watched the scene with some interest and asked Mrs. Kate, who was holding her child:

"Who is this Miss Brooke?"

Kate replied coolly:

"She is Gordon's secretary. We've had dinner together a few times."

"Oh." Reef understood, catching the undertone of dissatisfaction in Kate’s voice. Zi and the others also grasped Fang Senyan's intent.

In the original storyline, Dr. Gordon died tragically at the end, his demise clearing the path for the protagonist, Mr. Jackson Krust, to fulfill his dream of inheriting his wife.

But now Dr. Gordon had been saved, and the chances of his death were slim, unless Fang Senyan’s group deliberately caused it—and killing a weak, pivotal plot character was something no contractor would do unless absolutely necessary; they weren't foolish enough for that!

However, this created a thorny dilemma. If Dr. Gordon lived, Kate remained his wife, meaning Mr. Jackson Krust’s chance of success plummeted to zero; he was fated to become a solitary figure.

The plot had drastically changed. Fortunately, Fang Senyan had keenly sensed this issue and rescued Miss Brooke. This development suggested that Dr. Gordon was perhaps two-timing, which should lead to a relatively satisfactory resolution.

In truth, Dr. Gordon still loved Kate more, but Kate constantly harbored the memory of her ex-husband, which deeply displeased Gordon—namely, Kate’s continuous use of birth control.

Well... as everyone knows, procreation and survival are the instincts of all creatures; virtually all biological activity revolves around these two things, and humans are no exception. Furthermore, Dr. Gordon was in his early forties, with a strong desire for children, which formed the fundamental rift between them.

And then Miss Brooke appeared: at least fifteen years younger than Kate, fair-skinned, beautiful, unmarried, childless, vibrant, with a D-cup bust and a slender waist.

To win Dr. Gordon’s heart, she was completely subservient in various positions—the female-on-top, the doggy style—tender and attentive, surpassing even Lewinsky’s service to Clinton back in the day. Things like forgoing condoms or birth control were minor issues; she was eager to conceive quickly to secure her position.

Under this gentle offensive, Dr. Gordon, not being a saint, naturally slipped into the decadent state of having his secretary for business, and having her for pleasure otherwise. But his affection for Kate was real, and since they weren't married, just cohabiting, he decided to let the two-timing continue for the time being, never imagining the situation would be so blatantly exposed today.

With Kurut’s help, this ferocious steel beast, bearing numerous wounds, finally escaped the urban sprawl. Fortunately, Fang Senyan had

"Of course, he took me over there for a spin—forgive me, sir, but that's a highly restricted military base, and even after such a horrific disaster, I doubt the soldiers would let us just fly off in a helicopter." Fang Senyan laughed heartily, already turning the ignition on the Humvee: "A valid question, but I'm quite adept at persuasion, be it with soldiers, politicians, bankers, or lawyers, so please, just point the way." Truthfully, a narrative divergence occurred here; even without saving Brooke, Fang Senyan and the others could have learned from the remaining staff about a light utility helicopter kept at the hospital for patient transport. However, that helicopter only had seating for seven, meaning Mr. Gordon would have been tragically sacrificed.

Although Fang Senyan’s reasoning lacked compelling logic, Miss Brooke diligently assumed the role of guide. Ten minutes later, leveraging the Humvee's superior off-road capability, Fang Senyan and his group arrived near the military base. The chain-link fences, meant to symbolize a military exclusion zone, were now twisted or flattened, utterly devoid of deterrence. When faced with the earthquake, the soldiers' only recourse had been to seek shelter in open areas. At this moment, the quake seemed to have subsided, at least transitioning from violent tremors to slight vibrations. People could walk without needing support, but from the deep fissures in the ground, faint white gas began to seep out, filling the air with a pungent odor. To Fang Senyan’s senses, it felt as if the preceding violent quakes had momentarily exhausted the disaster, pausing to gather strength for an even more terrifying resurgence! Regrettably, the surviving populace, caught in the relief of escaping disaster, noticed nothing—or perhaps, even if they did notice, they were powerless to act. The military zone was situated on a stretch of barren land covered in withered, yellowish reeds, marked only by cracked white cement roads. At the gatehouse of the military perimeter, Fang Senyan recklessly slammed the accelerator, roaring through and effortlessly snapping the wooden barrier. The three sentry soldiers who should have been guarding the post were nowhere in sight. Driving another two or three kilometers, green barracks, a wide and fully equipped training ground, and what Fang Senyan most desired—the military airfield—came into view. Three Black Hawk helicopters were clearly visible on the tarmac! The “Black Hawk” is a multi-purpose utility helicopter commonly used by the US military. Besides the pilot, it can carry 11 soldiers, or 19 in an emergency. Its primary roles include transporting assault troops to forward positions and attacking ground targets, sometimes also used for extracting wounded personnel from the battlefield. One helicopter sat canted precariously over a fissure torn open by the earth’s rupture, seemingly having already burned and exploded; nearby, someone was still spraying it with a fire extinguisher, resulting in thick black smoke. Fortunately, the other two aircraft appeared undamaged. In another direction within the compound, twenty to thirty American soldiers were gathered around a collapsed barrack, shouting loudly. It turned out that while the surface area of this base was not vast, its underground infrastructure was extensive, plunging as deep as twenty stories. What was housed underground resembled the research facilities in the Resident Evil Hive—though they hadn't engineered any T-virus or Z-virus. However, precisely because they feared biological contamination leaks, the facility was kept highly secretive. Consequently, the underground base was immune to nuclear strikes or satellite scanning. But every advantage has its drawback: a high-intensity earthquake caused staggering damage, resulting in the total collapse and burial of all internal facilities; none could escape. The area where the gathered soldiers were risking aftershocks was the entrance to the subterranean base. They were frantically digging with entrenching tools, yet their efforts were purely an act of human will against fate. At their current pace, it might take months just to excavate the first three levels, assuming the earthquakes didn't interfere further. Fang Senyan and his group harbored no illusions of altruism or heroic intervention. He pressed the accelerator again, aiming the Humvee directly toward the Black Hawks parked on the airfield. If their approach hadn't been noticed before, the remaining personnel must truly be blind. Several soldiers immediately shouted and raised their rifles to take aim, though the safeties were still engaged—likely a gesture intended only for intimidation. Back in the rear cargo bay, Dr. Gordon and the others were closely monitoring the situation. Seeing the military raise weapons, the feeling of being targeted by several M4A1s instantly made them pale. Fang Senyan abruptly turned to Dr. Gordon: "Dr. Gordon, if... I'm merely hypothesizing, if there were a raging fire directly behind you that meant instant death, and before you lay a narrow single-plank bridge to survival, but an absolute stranger blocked that bridge, preventing you from crossing—would you kill him?" Dr. Gordon hesitated: "I don't know." Fang Senyan smiled: "Now, what if your loved one was among those fleeing?" Dr. Gordon answered decisively this time: "Of course. I would rather bear the sin upon my own life than see the person I love live happily and safely!" Fang Senyan offered a subtle, knowing smile: "It is excellent that you think that way." With those words, he braked the vehicle to a halt, jumped out, raised his hands, and walked toward the soldiers with a smile. At this moment, young Lily Klust whispered to her brother, Noah Klust: "I don't think those big guys will let us on the plane; they look so menacing and scary!" Noah responded with the seriousness of an adult: "But Sailor said he's very good at convincing people." "Heavens!" What drew Lily's gasp was that before Fang Senyan could even speak, a Black lieutenant—eyes bloodshot, air hissing from his nostrils as if he’d been drinking heavily, the sharp scent of alcohol preceding him—coldly pressed the muzzle of his rifle against Fang Senyan's head: "You have trespassed into a military restricted area! You have a choice now: Get out immediately, or I’ll blow your brains out!" "I believe we can strike a bargain," Fang Senyan replied calmly with a faint smile. The answer he received was a brutal swing from the buttstock of a rifle against his head! A series of sharp cries erupted from the Humvee’s rear compartment. Noah sighed, watching his sister cover her mouth: "It seems Mr. Sailor has encountered someone very hard to persuade." Lily's eyes filled with tears: "Mr. Sailor must be in terrible pain." However, San Zai suddenly chuckled: "Not necessarily." The solid wooden stock whistled through the air, slamming violently against the side of Fang Senyan's head! For a normal person, such a blow would have resulted in at least a fractured skull and concussion, but in reality, it merely caused Fang Senyan’s head to list slightly to one side. The Black lieutenant paused, his anger instantly flaring. His own younger brother was buried alive in the underground base, and his heart was filled with uncontrolled rage and despair. Roaring like a wild beast, he kicked Fang Senyan down and pulled the trigger of his M4A1 pointed directly at his chest! He clearly intended to kill. Evidently, the other two soldiers were startled, but realizing they couldn't stop it in time, they said nothing further. Under the base regulations during such an emergency as an earthquake, key facilities like prisons, military bases, government offices, and police stations were subject to martial law; killing someone, while extreme, couldn't strictly be deemed a violation of orders, provided they unanimously claimed the victims had hostile intentions—a death thus easily covered up. Dr. Gordon himself was shocked by the army's brutality—to kill so readily! His face turned deathly pale, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his teeth chattered audibly. As the soldiers’ eyes glinted with fierce intent and they walked forward, Lily let out a scream and buried herself in her mother's embrace. At this point, five American soldiers ‘clicked’ as they chambered rounds, expressionlessly advancing toward the Humvee. But behind them, Fang Senyan was silently getting up, hands tucked into his pockets, letting out a deep sigh. "I didn't want to kill too many people; why do you always force my hand?" Upon hearing Fang Senyan's words, the shooting Black lieutenant spun around as if seeing a ghost. Highly trained, he instantly stepped forward, raised his rifle, and took aim. Fang Senyan ignored the dark muzzle, advancing instead. Without any apparent effort, he took a single, almost casual step and stood before the Black lieutenant, pinning the M4A1 under his armpit. Although the barrel spat fire, all the shots went wide. The Black lieutenant stubbornly tried to wrench the weapon free, but it felt welded in place. Fang Senyan applied a direct twist, immediately warping the rifle into a corkscrew shape, parts scattering with sharp cracks. The lieutenant then tried to draw the sidearm at his waist, only for Fang Senyan to duck his head and deliver a crushing headbutt. The lieutenant instinctively leaned back, but Fang Senyan drove a knee upward into his groin. His face instantly drained of color, his body convulsed uncontrollably, and he collapsed in a heap. Having dispatched him, Fang Senyan immediately dropped low and charged into the four remaining soldiers who hadn't reacted. Fang Senyan’s immediate goal was simple: he didn't consider this skirmish a serious threat. His focus was on the twenty-plus heavily armed soldiers further away; he intended to use the melee to prevent the main force from firing upon him. While normal bullets posed little threat, this was a military base, and he couldn't be entirely sure about the status of that other fellow (Fu Ge), so caution was warranted. Sinking into the crowd, Fang Senyan spread his arms, seizing the throats of the two nearest soldiers. Despite their frantic struggles against his unnatural strength, they were helpless. He then slammed their heads together; instantly, the world quieted for them. Simultaneously, a streak of red blood bloomed across Fang Senyan's back—a long gash inflicted by a carbon steel combat knife drawn by another soldier. But as he was cut, Fang Senyan’s muscles contracted, clamping down on the blade. In a flash faster than lightning, he recoiled, driving an elbow into the soldier’s face. Amidst the distinct sound of cracking bone, that soldier slowly collapsed. The final soldier realized something was terribly wrong and tried to flee in terror, but Fang Senyan snatched him by the throat, using him instantly as a shield, pushing him forward while hunching low behind the man's back, targeting the approaching soldiers with a burst of speed. In that instant—a flash of light and crackling sound—no one, except perhaps San Zai, could have imagined that a man who had just taken a full burst from an M4A1 could rise like a savage beast, strike back with ferocity, and in moments, neutralize five elite soldiers through death or injury, and then aggressively press the counter-attack! In their astonishment, the dozen or so soldiers further away were completely caught off guard. Despite holding supremely advanced modern weaponry within a supposedly secure military installation, they suddenly felt the terrifying sensation of being the prey being hunted! "That man is a metahuman!" an officer shouted. In this world, where mutants and the Blood Race existed, it was illogical for such power to leave no trace. With astonishing speed, he executed a backward roll, settling into a standard kneeling firing stance, the dark muzzles aimed, firing a burst of blinding muzzle flash. Fang Senyan charged even harder, keeping his body tightly coiled. The distinct sound of bullets tearing flesh—"zizizi"—was clearly audible. The soldier Fang Senyan was using as a shield began to convulse violently as the entire burst struck his chest, sinking deep with no rounds missing. He let out a shrill scream that rapidly faded into weakness. Upon closing the distance to five meters, Fang Senyan tossed the bullet-riddled "meat shield" away. It slammed into three men, knocking them down. He leaped easily, delivering a powerful kick forward. The leading soldier tried to block, but the impact of that single kick—feeling like being hit by a heavy truck—bent him at an unnatural angle before he was flung far into the air. The Major in command watched this, his pupils contracting involuntarily. He gasped heavily, tasting a metallic, sweetish flavor rising in his throat. Gritting his teeth, he forcefully squeezed and twisted his hand, pulling out a grenade and tossing it before dropping to the ground. However, before the grenade even landed, an opposing hand slapped it back. It detonated near the four soldiers beside him, sending razor-sharp shrapnel tearing into human flesh, resulting in a chorus of agonizing screams.

Hmm, dropping about ten thousand characters here for a small burst and to settle debts; I'll try to put out another chapter before dawn, hehe. RQ