Zhang Heng, however, had no energy to celebrate his lightness or anything else at the moment; his heart felt as if it were being carved with a knife. The pain and distress filling him were beyond any language to describe. He and Ming Yanwei could be considered childhood sweethearts; they were neighbors, and their parents were friends. The only difference was that his father was an Olympic champion in compound bow shooting, while her father was the runner-up. Thus, the two families were simultaneously friends and rivals, neighbors and colleagues—a strangely intimate connection.

Under such circumstances, Zhang Heng and Ming Yanwei became acquainted when they were just children. They were innocent companions, their bond genuinely close. The sole discord lay in Zhang Heng inheriting his father's passion for archery, while Ming Yanwei held an intense aversion to bows and arrows. Every time she saw him practicing, she would ignore him for days. This pattern gradually lessened as they grew older.

What should have been a happy family life shattered abruptly when disaster struck the Heng household. While his parents were traveling, Zhang Heng's family was involved in a car accident. His mother died instantly, and his father suffered comminuted fractures, rendering him forever unable to use a bow. Zhang Heng was only nine at the time. The subsequent events ultimately forged the origin of his peculiar temperament: for the smallest infraction, his father would beat him relentlessly, long and painfully, each session leaving him close to unconsciousness. This continued for years, and as if fate were mocking him, he and Ming Yanwei were separated the year he turned ten. Having lost his career, Zhang Heng's father finally sold their house and moved elsewhere. Through years of beatings, Zhang Heng was forcibly molded into his current, utterly cowardly personality. The moment he sensed an imminent beating or saw blood and injury, he would flee instinctively in terror. This trait was embedded in his very marrow, making him hate himself and the world. The turning point arrived after a competition, in the form of that smiling girl.

That memory, deep in his mind, felt both familiar and terrifying to confirm, for he had already lost too much. After his father succumbed to liver cancer brought on by excessive drinking, he had little left to lose. The only things he possessed were the bow in his hands and the memory of her. Their reunion, after more than a decade, felt as if guided by a red thread. Swiftly, without a word, they moved in together, caring for one another, sharing the bitterness and sweetness of their separate struggles, comforting each other’s wounds, and leaning on one another as they faced the future. In that moment, Zhang Heng felt happiness. He continuously etched her into his heart, deeply engraving her shadow, until—until his body involuntarily bolted outward. When he snapped back to his senses, he wanted nothing more than to tear himself to pieces: to abandon a girl, a girl he deeply loved, to a group of hooligans and a murderous fiend. And he had fled in fear, as if his body had a will separate from his own, acting on its own accord. This realization brought him to the brink of despair.

By the time he finally regained control of his body and sprinted back, she and the hooligans were gone. He could perfectly surmise the horrific ordeal she must have endured.

Perhaps the physical harm wouldn't be insurmountable, but her heart must surely be weeping in despair. The man she loved so deeply had abandoned her to flee when danger struck. If such an act counted as anything less than love, or even just a sliver of it, it might be manageable. But he knew she loved him deeply; there was no doubt about that love. Therefore, the despair she felt upon being abandoned and violated was unimaginable. Zhang Heng considered suicide several times; he often thought of finding her. But he couldn't kill himself, for he hadn't yet exacted his revenge. To find her, however, he lacked the courage. He could no longer bear to look into her eyes—whether they were calm, angry, or filled with the placid emptiness of despair—he dared not see her. So, he chose vengeance, shooting his enemies down with his own arrows. Every time, he was so terrified he could barely hold the bow steady, and after every shot, he retched until he nearly passed out. But the thought of what she might be suffering and the despair in her heart drove him forward relentlessly toward the next target, raising his bow until every last one of them was slain. Only then, with his heart utterly desolate, did Zhang Heng enter this terrifying reincarnation cycle. Who would have thought that in this horrifying cycle, he would meet her again, the one he had always loved? And then, hearing her say that her primary self had survived with the Central Continent Team... "I didn't abandon you! When I entered the Central Continent Team, you were already—" Zhang Heng desperately wanted to roar this out, but the sight of Ming Yanwei’s tear-streaked, indifferent expression instantly stole his courage. Though he longed to explain, the facts weighed a thousand times more heavily. In truth, it was his abandonment that had shattered their happy future. All the pain stemmed from him; all the guilt rested on his shoulders. If he hadn't been so weak, if he could have spread his arms to shield her, perhaps everything would be different.

Blood sprayed from Zhang Heng’s body as he ran down the alley. The arrows shot earlier weren't particularly powerful; they were all piercing wounds, placing less strain on his body. Thus, those few arrows were more for punishment, or perhaps torment. Otherwise, judging by the arrow Ming Yanwei shot at Gu Tong, a close-range strike would have killed him instantly; why bother with those traversing wounds? She was torturing him, using them to purge the hatred and pain from her heart. Crack! A silver flash shot past, leaving a silver gash etched into the wall beside him. Deep within that gouge, silver flames burned. The cement and sand wall was actually melted by the silver fire; one could only imagine the terrifying power of that blaze.

"Why run? Just like running away from me that time? You really are a coward, only knowing how to flee." Ming Yanwei’s voice echoed in the air behind Zhang Heng. Her tone was laced with mockery and rage. Furthermore, she was already firing the silver flames without restraint, each shot capable of melting through a wall. The power of the flames was astonishing, though if one only compared the sheer velocity of the arrowheads, they were significantly inferior to Zhang Heng's Exploding Arrows.

Zhang Heng gritted his teeth, not uttering a word. He was clenching his jaw so tightly that thin streams of blood began to ooze from his lips. He swallowed his own blood continuously as he bolted forward, veering sharply down the alley whenever a cluster of silver light approached.

Unconsciously, his eyes glazed over, and in this relentless run, he entered the state of unlocking his Gene Lock.

"Since you fear death so much, why didn't you shoot an arrow through my head just now? That way, you wouldn't have to run anymore, nor would you need to be afraid. Just pierce my skull. I am someone who has unlocked the Gene Lock; don't you want the reward points and side mission credits?" Ming Yanwei snarled through clenched teeth.

Her bow continued to fire at Zhang Heng, yet every arrow narrowly missed his body. Seeing Zhang Heng offer no reply, the tears in the woman's eyes grew increasingly hazy.

Suddenly, Ming Yanwei floated into the air, looking down from ten meters above. She called out loudly, "Zhang Heng, do you remember telling you that I have a strong sense of premonition about certain things? Especially arrows. I can easily foresee the trajectory of an arrow and where it will strike its target, and so on. Many times, I can even hit the target without my eyes."

Ming Yanwei abruptly closed her eyes. She drew the small silver bow, aiming toward Zhang Heng’s escape path. The instant Zhang Heng rounded a corner, the silver bow snapped open. An arrow pierced through one of Zhang Heng’s thighs from above. Fortunately, she hadn't used the silver flame for this attack, only the agonizing piercing sensation. Zhang Heng merely stumbled, bounced once on the ground, and continued running forward.

(I will return everything to you, but before that, I cannot burden my team members with negative points, so I must kill one member of the Devil Reincarnation Squad. From Zheng Zha’s consciousness, I can see a Caucasian man flying in mid-air. Kill him, and then I will give everything back to you.) Zhang Heng gritted his teeth, desperately forcing himself forward. He was now very close to the street. Just as he was about to reach the asphalt, Ming Yanwei finally frowned, drew her silver bow back viciously, and shot a bolt of silver flame directly into the empty space ahead of Zhang Heng. When Zhang Heng reached that spot, the silver flame struck his left ankle, instantly burning the entire foot clean off. The silver flame then began creeping upward from the ankle.

Bang! A deafening gunshot echoed across nearly a thousand meters. A streak of fire flashed briefly out of the black mist, followed by the massive impact sound of a bullet hitting the ground. Zhang Heng, who had been preparing to crawl forward, finally smiled with relief. Ming Yanwei then floated down to a position several meters above him.

Ming Yanwei laughed mockingly. "Why aren't you running anymore? Why stop fleeing? Why are you so calm now? If you had even a fraction of this composure back then, we wouldn't have... " This girl could not finish her sentence.

Zhang Heng offered Ming Yanwei a gentle smile. He suddenly sat down on the ground, fully drawing his bow and aiming it at her. Simultaneously, the same imposing pressure that accompanied his impending Wind Arrow attack manifested around him—the sign he was about to loose the Wind Arrow.

A look of relief dawned on Ming Yanwei's face. She drew her silver bow to its absolute limit, and a ball of silver flame materialized on the string.

She murmured softly, "Let us find release together, Heng."

"I'm sorry, I love you. Live on." A light arrow shot through the air, truly like a full moon drawn by a horseman’s bow, piercing towards the northwest sky. This arrow whistled softly past the side of Ming Yanwei’s face. When she turned to look again, its trajectory was already lost to sight. She turned back toward Zhang Heng, only to see a spot of silver light glowing over his heart. Yet, a smile played on his lips as he lunged forward.