The police here were rather diligent; upon seeing Fang Senyan, they immediately rushed over to offer assistance. After confirming he was unarmed, they even lifted him onto a stretcher. Fang Senyan appeared to be gasping violently and trembling all over, but in reality, he was squinting his eyes, secretly observing the movements around him. He noticed that the scale of the police mobilization this time far exceeded his imagination. Not only did dozens of police cars converge nearby, but three helicopters were also patrolling overhead, their brilliant searchlights periodically slicing through the night sky.

Due to the considerable number of wounded being carried out sequentially, the police established a makeshift triage area near a couple of ambulances. Most of the incoming casualties had sustained injuries from being trampled in the chaos, predominantly suffering from shock and disorientation; perhaps fewer than a third had actually sustained gunshot wounds.

Fang Senyan’s injuries appeared grave, making him a primary focus for the medical personnel. Since he had only engaged the gang members, he held no fear of the police investigation or interrogation process. However, just then, two severely injured officers were brought in. One had been shot in the chest, and the other had his left leg broken. These two officers of the United States looked to have rather low personal fortitude; amidst their agony, they used every conceivable language to curse "that damned bastard inside."

Subsequently, seven or eight more officers were delivered, all incapacitated by non-fatal gunshot wounds. Some with brash personalities were openly cursing, while others sat pale-faced and silent, clearly still reeling from the aftershock—these casualties were evidently Quest’s handiwork. Given his marksmanship, if he had intended to kill, not a single one of these officers would have survived. He must have shown restraint out of consideration for the terrifying Delta Special Counter-Terrorism Force.

Fang Senyan glanced up at the helicopters circling overhead, a cold smirk playing on his lips. With the entire Los Angeles police force mobilized, and now possessing Quest’s physical description, how could simply wounding a few officers allow him to break through the encirclement and escape? Soon, however, an officer walked over, clutching his bleeding arm, speaking with palpable relief and seething anger:

“Folks, that damn maniac has finally been caught. This bastard managed to last this long after taking three shots before finally succumbing to serious injury and losing consciousness—who knows how much 'y' he was on!”

Fang Senyan’s pupils contracted sharply. Quest’s surrender was entirely outside his expectations, yet upon reflection, it was logical. For a man like Quest, cornered in such a desperate situation where he dared not fight all-out and could not escape, survival logically dictated only one path: being captured alive by the police. However, Fang Senyan knew all too well that the supposed severe injury and unconsciousness was likely just a delaying tactic by Quest. Once he was admitted to the hospital’s Intensive Care Unit, the police surely couldn't deploy hundreds of men and three helicopters to guard him? That would naturally present numerous opportunities for escape.

But if Quest managed to survive, Fang Senyan would gain a formidable, viper-like enemy! Furthermore, this man excelled at long-range attacks. The mere thought of being stalked day and night by such an individual sent a clammy chill down Fang Senyan’s spine, a chilling sensation as if he were being held fast by ice. Therefore, Quest must die! At that moment, Fang Senyan’s gaze toward the distant ambulance became colder, sharper, as if faint flames were beginning to rise from his eyes.

Once the situation stabilized, all the wounded would naturally be transported to the hospital for treatment. Since Fang Senyan had sustained a gunshot wound, standard procedure dictated he would be taken to the police station to give a statement. This individual, however, was exceptionally cunning; though his spirits were high, he feigned convulsions, vomiting, and semi-consciousness. When questioned, he only complained of a splitting headache. Given his seemingly severe head injury, such a personal reaction raised no suspicion. Upon arrival at the hospital, the doctor performed a cursory examination and immediately diagnosed him with a severe concussion, rushing him into a ward for observation after administering a sedative and hooking him up to an IV drip.

This massive police deployment had resulted in many injuries, and it was late at night when they arrived at the hospital. Consequently, the on-duty doctors were extremely busy, not settling down until two or three in the morning. Fang Senyan was in a private room guarded by only one police officer, who was also responsible for nearly twenty rooms down the entire corridor. This officer had likely participated in the night’s operation and was fortunate to have escaped injury, presumably exhausted. He kept dozing off on the lounge chair in the hallway. Quest, however, enjoyed treatment befitting a head of state; his entire floor was sealed off, guarded by fifteen officers, with the area both inside and outside his room brightly lit and under heavy security.

When the clock struck four in the morning, Fang Senyan’s eyes snapped open. He tore off the needle in his arm and crept out. The officer asleep on the bench outside his room was deep in slumber, wrapped in his greatcoat. Fang Senyan glanced left and right, swiftly clamped a hand around the officer's throat, and dragged him into a nearby utility closet. Simultaneously, Fang Senyan received a notification from the Nightmare Imprint:

“You have assaulted an officer of the Los Angeles Police Department. Your Notoriety within the Terminator World has increased by 10. Your current Notoriety is 10.”

Fang Senyan paused slightly. He had no time to examine this closely; he had to deal with the immediate situation first. Under his restraint, which possessed twice the strength of an ordinary person, the unfortunate officer struggled wildly, his face turning purple, unable to utter a sound. Only when his eyes rolled back and he was on the verge of suffocation and unconsciousness did Fang Senyan slightly ease his grip. He leaned close to the officer's ear and ground out through clenched teeth:

“Officer, I bear no ill will toward the police force, but the damned madman upstairs splattered my brother’s and girlfriend’s brains all over the wall tonight. I absolutely cannot let him go to jail easily! I will take his life! If you cooperate willingly, I swear by the soul of my grandmother that I will not harm any innocent person!”

Quest and his accomplices had killed at least twenty LAPD officers. Several of this officer’s friends had been seriously wounded by his gunfire, so this unlucky policeman naturally held no affection for Quest. Therefore, after hearing Fang Senyan’s objective, although he remained grim-faced and silent, he complied by taking off his uniform, lying down on the bed, and signaling for Fang Senyan to knock him unconscious.

Only then did Fang Senyan have time to review the Notoriety notification. However, the Nightmare Imprint provided only a few brief lines:

Notoriety increases for any violation of the law. Notoriety determines the attitude of the police toward you and increases the probability of encountering, being questioned, or searched by officers. Notoriety decreases over time. The higher the Notoriety, the slower the rate of decrease.

Although the information was sparse, Fang Senyan managed to deduce quite a bit. For instance, individuals with higher Notoriety faced greater police suppression. Take that ghost, Serial Number 884; his Notoriety must have been blazing red, leading to him being targeted by the Delta Special Counter-Terrorism Force. Quest must also be classified as a Level One wanted felon, prompting an immediate response from the police upon notification. Fang Senyan's current assault on an officer did increase his Notoriety, but this level of crime clearly did not yet warrant a manhunt.

After a period of rest, Fang Senyan felt his energy restored to its peak. Washing the blood and grime from his face and body with clear water in the washroom, he found that his wounds had healed almost entirely. Fang Senyan took a deep breath, donned the police uniform, surveyed the hospital environment, and quickly arranged some contingency measures. Then, pulling his cap low, he headed upstairs.

The remaining officers on duty could access first-hand inside information. Since Quest’s accomplice had been killed, and this individual had no connections to any Los Angeles gangs, the officers on duty were relatively relaxed, not expecting any outsiders to attempt a rescue.

As for the severely injured Quest, he was shackled to the bed, hooked up to vital signs monitors under strict control. Two officers watched him intently inside the room, ready to issue a warning at the slightest change! Under normal circumstances, Quest truly stood no chance of escaping.

It was four in the morning, and the surroundings were silent; he could even hear the clock on the wall ticking. Fang Senyan had some lingering thoughts, but by regulating his breathing with his gait, he gradually calmed down, his mind becoming still as water as he approached the corridor leading to Quest’s room.

There were only four officers in the corridor, all slumped over on the nearby benches, fast asleep. One bearded officer was even snoring loudly. The weather was quite cold now, and they were covered in thick blankets, with half-empty coffee cups resting beside them. When Fang Senyan first entered this world, he had been somewhat apprehensive, but after several battles, he found himself adapting to this reality with surprising ease, thus failing to reveal any flaws. He moved slowly and quietly past them; not a single one noticed.

But as he reached the doorway, he heard voices coming from inside—clearly, the officers within were wide awake. Given Quest’s demonstrated terrifying capabilities, the police were taking extreme precautions.

Fang Senyan placed his hand on the doorknob of the room, turned it gently, and pushed the door open. A pungent odor of disinfectant immediately hit his nostrils. The lights in the room were quite bright. Two officers looked over warily, but their expressions softened upon seeing Fang Senyan’s police uniform. Their hands, which had been resting near their sidearms, dropped away.

(To be continued, please visit for the latest chapters: .)