Strictly speaking, Fang Senyan had already hidden with these three in the building for nearly an hour. During this time, he had a substantial clash with the other intellect-focused Contractor. If it hadn't been for the surrounding enemies and the urgent situation, it was likely the two would have settled their dispute in the most direct manner: a physical fight. [Bookmark:]

When Fang Senyan was buried next to the ruins, he had decided not to go up immediately. It was clear that the Banks Syndicate had come prepared, fully aware of the weaknesses of the Co-operative Society. They most likely intended to eliminate the strength-and-stamina focused Contractors holding the front lines first, prioritizing the rescue of those powerful mind-based specialists trapped under the debris. If they had to wait for them to dig themselves out, even with Contractors' superior abilities, it would take at least an hour or two.

Unexpectedly, while rescuing Phil, Fang Senyan stumbled upon a sewer line. Although filthy and narrow, the tunnel had been half-opened by the collapsed wood and stone. Crawling through it led directly into the main conduit connected to the street.

London, being a city of ancient history, possessed a subterranean network of these sewage pipes that crisscrossed like a complex maze. Furthermore, since Fang Senyan's group possessed several times the strength of ordinary people, after rescuing the three individuals, they managed to slip unnoticed into the adjacent structure. This was precisely the moment when Gree was killed and his shield was dropped.

The difference in opinion immediately surfaced.

One intellect Contractor, O'Connor, perhaps emboldened by Finley’s betrayal, had implicitly assumed the mantle of leadership for the magic-users. Seeing this as a golden opportunity to turn the tide, he urgently whispered his commands:

"I target Fant, Allie prepare to curse the dark-clothed Oran next to him, Phil, tie up that idiot Stand! Sailor, rush out first to draw fire. I’m starting the countdown now; execute on three."

"One, two, three!"

Six pairs of eyes simultaneously fixed on Fang Senyan. He was leaning against the wall, his pupils angled 45 degrees toward the sky, his expression utterly calm and composed, as if meticulously studying the age of the grime on the ceiling and contemplating scraping some off for a Carbon-14 dating test.

O'Connor’s face instantly flushed red; he hissed in anger:

"What is the Sailor doing?"

Fang Senyan turned back, feigning surprise:

"Waiting for the right moment."

O'Connor urged anxiously: "Now is the best moment, move!"

Fang Senyan rolled his eyes dramatically: "Whoever wants to go can go. I'm not moving."

O'Connor’s face turned ashen; he enunciated every word slowly: "Trying to betray the team?"

Fang Senyan let out a disdainful scoff: "If I charge out now, those Banks thugs will focus all their fire on me first. I’ll be the one dead, right? Or do you expect me to charge out like Metal Mentor just conjured a black-grade shield for me? Am I an idiot? Why aren't you charging?"

O'Connor was immediately struck speechless. His pragmatism was showing; he genuinely intended to use Fang Senyan as cannon fodder, but that thought certainly couldn't be spoken aloud. Seeing Fang Senyan's demeanor, he was instantly overcome with frustrated rage: "We’re all behind you providing cover fire, what danger could there be? I think you’re just planning to desert the team!"

Fang Senyan shrugged: "Suit yourself. If you think I'm defecting, feel free to put me on trial."

O'Connor was so angry his eyeballs nearly bulged; he looked genuinely ready to rush out alone. However, he closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and then calmed down: "I will report this matter to Metal Mentor. Sailor, then you can be the one to decide when the moment is right."

Fang Senyan felt a jolt in his heart: Indeed, there are no weaklings in the Space. O’Connor actually managed to assess the situation so quickly and regain his composure, even deferring command to me! Such magnanimity, shrewdness, and self-control were truly astonishing to behold.

Finally, the moment Fang Senyan had been waiting for arrived. This opportunity seemed less than ideal—Fant had been receiving treatment for about three minutes, and the dark-clothed Oran had already healed and rushed out. Only Stand remained, clutching his stomach, leaning against the wall, gasping pallidly. But the person Fang Senyan feared most showed signs of weakness!

That person was the Banks Syndicate’s dedicated support magic-user!

To Fang Senyan, neither Das nor Fant posed a significant threat. Only that magic-user was truly worrying—considering that even Fant, empowered by his weapon enhancement, could summon a wave of fire when killing Chtchastanov—who could guarantee this fellow couldn't unleash a Fire Wave spell? Or perhaps turn him directly to stone using a local-world enchantment?

And at this moment, it was clear that this magic-user was considerably weakened. When bandaging Fant, he would emit a white light onto the gauze. Now, this white light flickered intermittently; it flashed perhaps only once every five or six seconds. Clearly, his mental energy was nearly depleted, relying solely on natural recovery for this 'squeezing toothpaste' level of healing.

If not now, then when?

Fang Senyan suddenly exerted his full strength, slamming heavily into the wooden door in front of him, and then tore it clean off its hinges. Amidst a cloud of dust, he zeroed in and charged directly toward the target! He looked precisely like a sturdy bull, head lowered, charging madly across the desolate plains.

At that moment, the Battering Willow in the ruins continued furiously churning out dust and smoke, and the engaged combatants had not yet noticed this new variable. However, figures began to appear in the windows of the opposite building.

From a distant vantage point, a monotonous, rhythmic sound of gunfire suddenly rang out—crack… crack… crack… crack! Splinters of wood flew off the decaying door panel. Fang Senyan had heard this specific sound countless times before. Back then, that gunfire represented the reassurance of teammates and the nightmare of monsters. But now, it had transformed into the grim reaper’s scythe, poised to savagely devour his flesh! It was Das, hidden in the heights, coldly pulling the trigger.

This was the brutal reality: a former teammate was now aiming at him, pulling the trigger without hesitation.

The searing bullets slammed into Fang Senyan's body, but they failed to penetrate further. Instead, they were ruthlessly squeezed out by his hardened muscle, falling back into the dust along with undried blood.

"Contractor #33091’s shot inflicts 120 base damage. Deducting 40% from the Contractor’s Weakening Rule, this will deal 72 damage. After subtracting 16 points of defense mitigation, ha ha—"