Master of Kaidan
Chapter 88: The Way of Escape

Chapter 88: Chapter 88: The Way of Escape

The prison was filled with noise and bustle, but Feng Xue incessantly dug his way to survival. As the passage behind him slowly filled with rubble and soil, Feng Xue could barely hear the sounds of the outside world; only the vibrations from the ground informed him that the chaos within the prison walls had not yet subsided.

The narrow passage was not spacious and only just wide enough for Feng Xue to move forward. It was fortunate that as an Identity, he no longer needed to breathe, otherwise with such a method of digging, he would have suffocated before reaching the sewer.

Typically, such dark and confined spaces could easily invoke claustrophobia, and even with easy breaths, a normal person would feel intense oppression and discomfort after just ten minutes.

Feng Xue was able to endure not because his spirit was particularly tenacious, but because he held the spoon from Shawshank.

Although this piece of equipment could not detect living things, a scouting radius of one hundred meters nevertheless widely expanded Feng Xue’s field of vision.

It was like being in solitary confinement but being allowed to watch television; you could only watch the soundless "Man and Nature," but the open view and bright environment alone were enough to mitigate the mental stress caused by seclusion.

However, a range of one hundred meters was ultimately not very large, and Feng Xue could only determine that the prison doors had been blasted open, most of the cell bars had been destroyed, and apart from this, his Physical Avatar had not disappeared yet.

Actually, by now Feng Xue could completely relax, because even if his clone were exposed, clearing the tunnel behind him, filled as it was, would still present significant difficulty. And considering the narrowness of the tunnel, at most the person coming down could only carry a handgun.

Regarding the arrival of a digger...

By the time the digger could reach where this cell was located, Feng Xue would have already dug through to the sewer.

"But even a handgun could be dangerous," Feng Xue shook his head and, gathering his strength, continued digging. However, a tearing agony soon transmitted from under his ribs.

The body of an Identity was very strange in both Infinite City and reality. If you called it a fleshly body, they didn’t need to eat or drink water, nor eliminate waste, and didn’t even need to breathe.

But if you said it was a digital body, it bled, felt fatigue, had various organs, and followed human anatomical principles, and could even eat and drink.

Feeling a faint pain and a slick sensation under his ribs, Feng Xue knew his movements while digging were somewhat excessive—or rather, that he had rested just a bit too long.

Relying on compression to stop the bleeding was ultimately not a proper medical method. A 60-millimeter-long incision, even if it avoided most vital areas, was still rather dangerous.

After a brief pause followed by sudden movement, the blood scab that had just begun to set was again torn open.

But Feng Xue also knew clearly that he could not stop.

...

"Boss, the intruders have been repelled, we’ve lost a total of..."

"I don’t want to know how much we’ve lost; right now I just want to know how the East Sector Two is doing!" Jeston forcefully interrupted Jones’ report, because he knew very well that if nothing had gone wrong there, Jones would have started with the matters he cared about and not dwelled on these small issues that could be settled with some money.

"Well, boss, the invader blew up the isolation wall in East Sector Two, and the ghosts that were imprisoned there collectively escaped, but..."

Jeston’s eyes instantly turned blood-red as he listened, but fortunately heard the turning point in Johnson’s statement, and immediately said:

"But what?"

"But Mr. Han Meimei has not escaped; he is still in his cell." Jones’s words carried a hint of surprise, and not just for him—Jeston was also amazed. Was Han Meimei addicted to prison life? To not run during such a prime opportunity?

However, it was good news that he had not run. Jeston immediately said,

"Don’t move a muscle. I’m bringing people over. No one is to approach Han Meimei before I arrive!"

"Yes, boss!"

The communication cut off, and Jeston turned to the security guard beside him, his eyes bloodshot:

"Bring the family and come with me. It’s too dangerous to keep Han Meimei, this money printer, there. I shouldn’t have considered Fran’s opinion; I should’ve moved him to another place earlier!"

Although he said this, Jeston was well aware that if it wasn’t for the fact that Han Meimei had missed such a good opportunity to escape, he wouldn’t have been comfortable relocating him either, as, after all, the safest among his properties was the prison.

...

Ten minutes later, Jeston arrived at the East Block Prison with his bodyguards, responsible for ensuring his personal safety. His expression darkened at the sight.

The outer walls of the prison had been half blown away, with twisted steel rebars and flattened corpses. It looked more like the intense battlefield of a war-torn country than a prison that had been breached.

Yet in the ruins, eerily reminiscent of a Hell Scroll, a figure dressed in formal attire and holding a dictionary came into Jeston’s view from within a cell that was relatively intact.

Despite the wrinkles in the suit and the shackles still on the person’s limbs, the scene mysteriously carried a sense of sanctity. If a stream of sunlight were to pour through the narrow window at that moment, it would have undoubtedly become a masterpiece to be passed down through the ages.

Even Jeston, who had no interest in art, couldn’t hide the shock in his heart at the sight of this image, though it was unknown how much of that was the joy of regaining something once lost.

However, Jeston quickly recovered from his shock and waved his arms vigorously, "Quick! Quick! Bring Mr. Han Meimei out; we need to move immediately!"

The bodyguards wasted no time looking for keys. Instead, they fired several shots directly at the lock, and immediately opened the iron door. Just as they were helping Feng Xue rise to her feet, the shackles on her right foot suddenly snapped and fell to the ground.

The scene froze in that instant...

...

"Huff... huff..." Beneath the ground, buried almost alive, Feng Xue gasped for air. Although she didn’t need to breathe, the residual human instinct still compelled her to use such actions to soothe the fatigue of her body.

She couldn’t remember how long she’d been digging, only deducing that she had been at it for at least four hours, given she was about a meter away from the escape route. Her physical avatar had already been sacrificed, and now, as the ground began to shake once more, it seemed to signal the countdown to her escape’s failure.

Biting down hard, Feng Xue forced her arms to move again. As she did, the once easier-to-dig soil slowly disappeared, replaced by the solid "wall" of concrete and stones.

Faced with this scenario, Feng Xue didn’t feel the slightest bit discouraged, because even without the perceptive abilities that came with Shawshank’s spoon, she knew that on the other side of this wall was the path to her survival!