Chapter 34 Black Pepper

Violent coughing erupted incessantly. The pinch of powder that Fang Senyan had scattered was none other than black pepper, casually pilfered from a supermarket shelf. A famous American staple was black pepper steak. It was statistically proven that the entire United States consumed over ten tons of black pepper powder every day. Though these spicy, pungent powders were delicious sprinkled on greasy steak, they caused instant tearing and nasal discharge when they got into the eyes and nose, making it difficult to see!

The three FBI agents were caught off guard by Fang Senyan's trick. They coughed repeatedly, tears streaming down their faces, filled with rage. Some tried to wipe away the tears and aim, but Fang Senyan had already planned ahead. The black trench coat he wore billowed like a giant bat's wings. He spun nimbly, drawing the Italian SPAS-15 MIL combat shotgun from behind, and pulled the trigger violently!

Fang Senyan's marksmanship had always been terrible, so he rarely engaged in gunfights. But in the current situation, the shotgun was undoubtedly a terrifying weapon! The dark muzzle was almost touching the closest FBI agent before it spat out flames. Hundreds of metal and steel pellets, full of kinetic energy, slammed into the man in a cloud of smoke. They easily tore through the outer clothing. Although the bulletproof vest inside provided some protection, the immense force of such a close-range blast was no less than the internal injuries inflicted by a full-force blow from a club!

The FBI agent who had been repeatedly hit was in a miserable state. Darkness clouded his vision, and he staggered backward. But he was, after all, an elite trained through extremely arduous methods. Just as he was about to roll away to take cover behind a nearby counter, Fang Senyan, as expected, anticipated his movements. He stepped forward, the still-smoking muzzle of the gun aimed at the man's head, and coldly pulled the trigger!

Two loud blasts echoed. In the swirling smoke, the FBI agent flew backward. The skin and flesh on his head and face were shredded by the shotgun pellets, revealing a bloody mess. He was unrecognizable, a truly beaten man. Blood flowed freely from where he landed, pooling on the floor, and it was unclear if he was dead or alive.

Fang Senyan cursed inwardly. The FBI elite agent's ability to withstand attacks was extremely tenacious. He had actually managed to raise his arm to protect his head in time, barely avoiding a fatal blow. Though Fang Senyan had failed to kill him, the benefit was that the agent had undoubtedly lost his combat ability and would pose no threat in the short term.

At this moment, continuous, intense stinging sensations came from Fang Senyan's back, as if red-hot knives were repeatedly stabbing into his body. Several bullets grazed past his ears. The other two FBI agents had obviously recovered and were firing wildly at him. If the pepper spray hadn't still been affecting their vision, they would have undoubtedly aimed for Fang Senyan's head. Even so, Fang Senyan's health was decreasing at a frightening rate, dropping below the 20% danger threshold.

Fang Senyan resisted the tempting urge to finish off the heavily wounded agent and leaped nimbly over the nearby checkout counter, then rolled across the floor to take cover in the adjacent aisle. The bullets that followed kicked up dust and debris, but they were only a belated response. The intermittent trail of blood flowing on the floor showed that the previous shots hadn't been completely ineffective.

Faced with such a chaotic scene, the two FBI agents with red, swollen eyes and tear-streaked faces looked at each other in dismay. The US military and the FBI had always adhered to the principle of "no one left behind." If a colleague was seriously injured or killed, someone had to stay behind to take care of the scene. But there were only two people left with combat capability. If one stayed behind, the remaining one would have to chase after the extremely ferocious assailant alone... It was likely that he would meet with misfortune. But if they gave up and let the suspect escape, they would truly become a disgrace to the FBI!

While they were hesitating, an angry voice came from behind:

"What are you waiting for!"

Novan, the leader of this special operations team, strode forward. His eyes swept over his two disheveled subordinates, then moved to the bloody, unrecognizable body of James lying on the side. A complex expression appeared in his eyes, but he said in a decisive tone:

"You two go after him immediately! Remember, just keep track of his whereabouts. I... I will ask for help from above."

"What!!" The two elite FBI agents shouted at the same time. They were obviously not afraid of chasing Fang Senyan, but surprised by their leader's decision to ask for reinforcements.

Novan slowly shook his head and said:

"If I ask headquarters for help now, at most our team will become the shame of the entire FBI. But if we wait until things are completely out of control before asking for help, then the FBI will become the laughingstock of the entire United States! Our personal honor cannot be placed above the honor of the entire FBI."

After hearing Novan's words, the two FBI elite agents were silent. Novan took out a brick-like communicator from his pocket and began dialing...

Fang Senyan was running at full speed. He showed no awareness of being the prey. If he hadn't known that the enemy possessed detectors that could sense his approximate location at any time, he believed that he would have stopped to ambush the pursuers behind him.

In fact, his situation wasn't good. The dense wounds on his back were still oozing blood. The flowing sweat stung the wounds like knives, causing them to twitch in spasms. If it were an ordinary person, they would have long lost their will to fight and cried out in pain. But Fang Senyan's eyes seemed to be burning, appearing fierce and focused, savage and valiant, as if the injuries were a catalyst for his life, the pain a blazing sun rising in his fighting spirit!

"Warning, warning, the leader of the US Federal Bureau of Investigation team pursuing you has applied for support from headquarters."

"Warning, warning, the leader of the US Federal Bureau of Investigation team pursuing you has applied for support from headquarters."

"Warning, Federal Bureau of Investigation headquarters official, Jeross. Sardin will join in your pursuit. He will arrive in ten minutes."

Seeing this series of prompts, Fang Senyan's pupils contracted! In fact, the tragic scene of the contractor being riddled with bullets by the suddenly appearing Delta Force had been deeply etched in his mind. And he had been worried about this point, that these FBI agents might call in reinforcements to participate in the arrest.

"Ten minutes, luckily there are still ten minutes as a buffer!" A thought of good fortune flashed through Fang Senyan's mind.

Courage wasn't recklessness, and adventure wasn't suicide. He had no interest in dealing with Jeross. Sardin, the upcoming headquarters official of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Fang Senyan had ample reason to believe that the other party would occupy an overwhelming advantage. If Fang Senyan had the marksmanship and abnormal talent of "refraction" of the previous dead ghost, Quest, then he would have a chance to win. Unfortunately, his shooting accuracy was limited to within five meters, and it had to be with a shotgun...

Looking at the countdown time transmitted by the Nightmare Imprint, Fang Senyan also began to silently count down in his heart:

"Ten, nine, eight, seven... three, two, one!"

At the same time, a crisp sound suddenly came from the bag he was carrying. It was like the cracking of ice after it had been exposed to sunlight. After taking out the bag, he saw that the transparent box inside was covered with cracks and gave off an unpleasant smell.

And in the faint dark color, the sharpness of a deadly weapon was about to emerge!

Fang Senyan found a corner and sat down, leaning his head against the hard wall. A cold smile appeared on the corner of his mouth. He licked the dried bloodstains on his lips and muttered in his heart:

"I want to claim the main mission reward: Clearing the Space-Time Node."

"Prompt: You have three hours, seventeen minutes, and forty-seven seconds left before the deadline to leave this world. You will leave this world within five minutes after claiming this mission reward. Do you want to claim the main mission reward: Clearing the Space-Time Node? Yes/No."

Fang Senyan chose "Yes" without hesitation.

"You have obtained 200 general points."

"You have obtained 1 merit point."

"You currently have a cumulative of 1 merit point."

"The higher your merit value, the greater the permissions you enjoy in the space, and the more discounts you can enjoy."

"You have completed an individual mission in the Nightmare World. Your Nightmare Imprint storage ability has been activated."

"This is really an incredible world..." Fang Senyan smiled wearily. He lit a blood-stained cigarette for himself, took a deep breath, and leaned against the wall with his whole body relaxed. His slightly scattered gaze crossed the tall buildings in front of him, cast towards the setting sun in the sky, and he rested peacefully in this Los Angeles architectural complex, under this 1980s sky, in this sunlight that was hot but not without a trace of warmth...

Then his figure gradually faded, and finally disappeared into the air. Only ten minutes later, the Federal Bureau of Investigation reinforcements surrounded this place, but all they obtained in the end was a pool of blood that hadn't yet dried and a tattered black trench coat.

Um, I know that after reading this chapter, many friends will have questions.

But I won't explain.

My only answer is: Keep reading.

When writing *Ace Attorney*, I only conceived for two hours before I started writing.

When writing *The Ultimate Evolution*, I conceived for eighteen months.

As a writer, I demand change. As a writer responsible to my readers, I demand change even more.

If *The Ultimate Evolution* was written the same way as *Ace Attorney*, what would be the point? How much excitement would you have? How many unexpected surprises would there be?

The way of the writer also lies in seeking change, seeking refinement, like sailing against the current, if you don't advance, you retreat. It's called evolution, but actually unchanging or even regressing! That's what deserves ridicule.

What I can guarantee to everyone is:

Some of the seemingly unreasonable places now will definitely give you a satisfactory/sudden realization/or even a "so that's how it is" answer.

The time is: before it is put on the shelves, before everyone pays.

Well, there is no update today, because I have to consider the word count issue of the new book list, so please vote for me with the extra votes. I will dedicate a more exciting story to you!