Flip the Table, Not Just the Flames!

Faced with Chen Dafeng's brazen antics, the slave warriors in the underground bunker looked at each other in utter confusion. For a moment, no one knew what to do.

Fight him? They couldn't win.

Block him? They couldn't stop him.

What else could they do? All they could do was stare helplessly as Chen Dafeng marched through their midst, ferrying wave after wave of prisoners to safety, right under their noses.

When half the captives in the bunker had been taken, one of the slave warriors finally cracked. He approached the squad leader, barely suppressing his frustration, and muttered:

"Boss, let's just kill the rest of the prisoners."

"What?"

"This is humiliating!" the warrior growled, his voice trembling with anger. "I'd rather die fighting him than keep getting toyed with like this!"

But the squad leader shook his head firmly. "No. These prisoners are off-limits. Orders from the top—kill them, and we're the ones in trouble. You want to defy the Master's commands?"

That shut everyone up. No one dared argue further.

They all wanted to ask the Master what the hell they were supposed to do now, but they couldn't. In fact, none of them had ever even seen the Master. Not even the higher-ups. Orders were always transmitted remotely through the shelter's interface, and the Master's identity remained a mystery—no face, no voice, not even a clue as to whether the Master was a man or a woman.

With no further instructions and their hands tied by prior orders, all they could do was watch as Chen Dafeng went about his business.

Yesterday, they'd raided settlements to capture people. Today, Chen Dafeng was raiding them to rescue those same people.

Ah, how the tables had turned.

Chen Dafeng worked fast. The underground bunker, which had held over a hundred prisoners, was cleared out in under ten minutes.

Standing outside the city's central compound, he paused, glancing toward the horizon.

"What's next?" he asked, tilting his head as he spoke into his earpiece.

A deep, gravelly voice came through: "That's it."

"That's it?" Chen Dafeng blinked. "Didn't you say there were multiple prisoner sites? I only cleared out one bunker!"

"While you were rescuing the first group, the rest of the captives were executed," the voice replied grimly.

Chen Dafeng blinked again, momentarily stunned. Then he rubbed his nose and muttered, "So my mission's already over, huh?"

Truth be told, he hadn't expected the enemy to act so decisively. The moment they realized they couldn't stop him, they'd wasted no time issuing the kill order. If they couldn't keep the prisoners, no one could.

Chen Dafeng wasn't exactly heartbroken. He didn't care much about the prisoners' lives—what mattered to him was completing the mission and raking in those sweet, sweet points. According to Jiang Xiaoci's agreement, he was tasked with "dealing with" the prisoners, preferably by rescuing them alive.

But if the prisoners were killed by their own captors? That still counted. It just meant fewer points for him.

"Tch, this was an easy day's work," Chen Dafeng said, squinting toward the compound. "Still early, though. I could probably make it back in time to grab some cake..."

"You're not done yet," the voice interrupted.

Chen Dafeng's eyes narrowed. "What now? Another mission?"

"Yes. New orders just came through. Jiang Xiaoci wants you to keep going," the voice said. "The enemy's decision to execute the prisoners indicates they've made a new strategic move. Rather than reacting to their next steps, we're going to stay on the offensive and seize the initiative."

"Stay on the offensive?" Chen Dafeng echoed. "Against who? The prisoners are already dead. Am I supposed to rescue thin air now?"

The voice paused, then replied calmly, "Do you think the people worth saving are limited to prisoners? The enslaved, the brainwashed, the coerced—they're all victims, too. Don't they deserve liberation?"

That shut him up. Not because he cared about the deeper meaning, but because he'd caught on to one thing:

"So... I can take them, too?"

"Yes," the voice confirmed.

Chen Dafeng pointed toward the compound. His hand trembled slightly as he asked, "And... do I still get points for this?"

"Fewer than you'd get for rescuing prisoners, but yes," the voice replied. "Keep in mind, these people will need rehabilitation once brought back. That's a cost."

"Points are points!" Chen Dafeng whooped, his voice cracking with excitement.

For a moment, he'd worried today's mission wouldn't be lucrative. But now? Now he had a whole new market to exploit.

"Alright, let's go!" he yelled, sprinting back toward the compound.

The slave captain received two messages simultaneously:

"The remaining prisoners have been executed. There's no way for the White Bear to rescue them anymore."

"But the White Bear is back."

"Why?!" the captain shouted, bewildered. "There's no one left to save! Why is he here?!"

The answer came soon enough. Chaos erupted from the outermost edges of the compound, sweeping inward like a tidal wave.

"White Bear's gone mad!" someone screamed. "He's grabbing everyone! If he sees you, he takes you! We don't know where he's taking them!"

"What?!" The captain's blood ran cold. He knew all too well the weakness of his forces: as long as they stayed within the compound, they were invincible. But the moment they left its boundaries, they were no match for Chen Dafeng.

"Is this guy... getting smarter?!" the captain muttered, horrified. "No way. Someone must be pulling the strings behind him!"

Sure enough, Chen Dafeng wasn't just targeting prisoners anymore. He was rounding up the slave soldiers themselves.

Laughing maniacally, Chen Dafeng swung an iron chain—he didn't know where he'd found it—and began binding his targets together like human skewers.

"Points! All mine!" he cackled, his voice rising above the chaos. "Little cakes! All my little cakes!"

With a leap that defied gravity, he dragged a chain of a hundred bound slaves into the air, disappearing over the horizon. Moments later, he returned, grinning ear to ear.

Standing atop the compound's defenses, surrounded by panicked gunfire, he waved a fresh chain and declared:

"Alright, round two! Grandpa's back!"