CHAPTER 211: SIGHTED FROM AFAR

It was nighttime and the night fog had thickened to the point where even streetlights looked like pale orbs floating in milk. Red and blue flashes cut through the haze in broken rhythm — patrol cruisers, news vans, the glare of hovering police drones. Blinding Town, normally quiet after dark, now thrummed with tension and confusion.

The air reeked of smoke and wet asphalt. Helicopter blades churned faintly somewhere above.

Four figures slipped through an alley behind the mayor’s administrative complex — Hutton, Bob, Boma, and Julian. Their faces were hidden beneath hoods and masks, every step calculated, every breath measured.

"Whole damn town’s gone military," Bob murmured, glancing at a drone sweeping a nearby street. "Based on what I know, it seems like they’ve tripled patrols since the explosion. You sure this is smart?"

Hutton’s voice was low but steady. "We can’t keep hiding blind. Everlyn’s the only one who’ll tell us what’s happening outside. If she’s still alive, we find her."

Boma shifted his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "If she isn’t?"

"Then we find out who’s giving the orders in her place," Hutton replied, his tone hard enough to close the discussion.

He was walking a pace ahead, but it wasn’t just leadership driving him — it was instinct. Power hummed under his skin, sharp and alive, like he could feel every heartbeat within twenty meters. Ever since waking in that cavern, the world had felt different: denser, clearer, more connected. He could sense the flicker of electric cables under the road, the faint vibration of a security camera motor, the body heat of the officer patrolling two streets over.

Every movement he made flowed with quiet precision.

They cut through a narrow service lane and emerged near the town’s municipal district. Ahead, the mayor’s office rose through the fog — a wide, three-story government building wrapped in yellow caution tape and floodlights.

Julian frowned. "Looks like she’s still under investigation. That’s half the police force guarding the place."

Hutton studied the pattern of lights, the officers’ rotations, the single black SUV parked discreetly near the side entrance. His eyes narrowed. "That car’s still warm. She’s here."

"How can you tell?" Boma whispered.

"I can feel the engine heat," Hutton said simply.

Bob gave him a sidelong look. "You’re really not the same anymore, huh?"

"Later," Hutton muttered. "Move."

They waited until two patrolling officers turned the corner, then darted across the open stretch toward a maintenance door half-hidden behind an air-conditioning unit. Julian’s fingers flew over a portable console, jamming the electronic lock in seconds.

Click.

Inside, the hallway was dim and silent except for the hum of the building’s emergency lights. They moved fast — up a stairwell, through an office wing, following the faint trail of Qi Hutton recognized as Everlyn’s.

Halfway up the next flight, Hutton stopped abruptly. His senses sharpened — someone was nearby.

"Two guards," he whispered. "Ten meters ahead."

Bob tensed. "Take them out?"

"No," Hutton said, closing his eyes for a second. A subtle pulse of Qi rippled from him — silent but wide. The fluorescent lights above flickered, and both guards outside slumped in place, snoring quietly where they stood.

Julian blinked. "You just... made them sleep?"

"Something like that," Hutton replied. "Keep moving."

They reached the mayor’s office door. Voices came from inside — one of them unmistakably Everlyn’s, calm but strained, the kind of tone people used when they were barely holding authority together.

"...I’ve already submitted my report to the federal liaison," she was saying. "The situation is under control as long as no one disturbs the perimeter again."

Another voice, male, replied flatly, "Under control? There’s a crater the size of a plaza on your town’s outskirts. You’ll forgive us for doubting you, Mayor."

Hutton’s jaw tightened. He signaled the others to stay back and opened the door just enough to see inside.

Everlyn stood behind her desk, dressed formally but with exhaustion painted beneath her eyes. Across from her were two officers in dark suits — government investigators, clearly out of their depth.

When the men finally left, Hutton slipped inside before the door could close.

Everlyn froze mid-breath when she saw him. "Hutton?"

Bob, Boma, and Julian followed, closing the door behind them.

"You’re supposed to be hidden," she hissed under her breath. "Do you have any idea how much heat is on this town? They’ve locked everything down!"

"That’s why we’re here," Hutton said evenly. "We need to know what’s going on. The military’s crawling over the hills, the families are sniffing around, and the media’s already building a narrative. Who pulled the strings?"

Everlyn sighed, rubbing her temples. "Everyone. The Franklin Family sent a representative this morning. Two World Class envoys arrived hours later. The FBI, the State Police — it’s chaos. They all think the explosion was an illegal World Vein activation and they aren’t really hinting at us that they will stop anytime soon."

Julian frowned. "So they don’t know it was us."

"Not yet," she said, giving him a pointed look. "But it’s only a matter of time before someone pieces it together."

Hutton’s expression stayed calm, but his aura flared faintly, sending papers fluttering off her desk. "Then we have to move again."

Everlyn’s eyes hardened. "You won’t get far. The roads are blocked, drones are scanning mana signatures, and every news channel in the state’s been fed the same order — if anyone spots you, call it in."

Boma gritted his teeth. "So what now? We just wait to get caught?"

Everlyn hesitated, then lowered her voice. "There might be one way out. The old hydro-tunnel that feeds the eastern ridge. It’s off the grid — literally. If you follow it through the drainage system, it’ll spit you out beyond the surveillance zone."

Hutton nodded slowly. "Then that’s where we’ll go."

But before he could turn to leave, Everlyn’s tone softened, just a trace of worry leaking through her composure. "Hutton... whatever you did out there, whatever you’ve become — the world felt it. You’ve already drawn eyes that even I can’t keep off you. Be careful."

He paused at the door, glancing back at her. "Although I am exceedingly grateful for helping us deposit only knowing one of us barely, I don’t plan on dying again anytime soon."

Then he and his group disappeared back into the fog-filled corridors, silent as phantoms, heading toward the only exit left that wasn’t crawling with soldiers.

Outside, the night deepened, and the sirens wailed again.

But despite that, the silver moonlight still shimmered faintly against the tall glass panes of a five-star hotel in the heart of Blinding Town.

Inside one of the hotel’s luxurious suites, Ling Fei stood by the window, her arms folded, her eyes sharp and unreadable as she watched the streets below. Her phone still glowed on the table beside her — a call she had just ended with a government liaison, one that left her frowning deeper than before.

Veronica sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through the news on her tablet.

"Another report on the Blinding Town incident," she murmured, her brow furrowing. "They’re saying part of the fog barrier that covers this place has thinned because of whatever battle happened there. The police found residual energy traces they can’t identify. The military’s calling it ’a potential mana quake.’"

Ling Fei didn’t respond. She had heard enough of the same speculation over and over — and yet, her instincts told her the truth was closer than anyone suspected.

Vivian stood nearby, her sharp glowing features highlighted by the blue light from the window. She was silent but alert, her hand resting casually near her sidearm. Kenneth, still recovering from his injuries, leaned against the wall, his expression distant but attentive.

It was then that something flickered in the corner of Ling Fei’s vision — movement on the street far below.

Her eyes narrowed.

Four figures, moving with uncanny purpose through the alleyways between the fog and flashing sirens.

Two tall men, one bulky, one composed and alert. A third, leaner, with a subtle limp — and the fourth... the fourth was being supported, his gait unsteady, wrapped in a hooded jacket that concealed his face.

The aura — faint but unmistakable — pulsed in the air like a quiet storm. Ling Fei’s pupils dilated in recognition.

"...It can’t be," she breathed.

Vivian immediately straightened. "What is it, Miss Ling?"

Ling Fei didn’t answer at first. She just stared, heart pounding softly in her chest as she followed the faint qi ripple that emanated from below. It wasn’t just powerful — it was controlled, potent, and terrifyingly familiar.

"It’s them," Ling Fei said finally, her voice sharp, decisive. "Hutton, Bob, Boma, and Julian. They’re alive."

Veronica froze, eyes wide. "Wait—what? You’re sure?"

Ling Fei’s lips curved slightly, but not into a smile. "There’s no mistaking that presence. Even if he’s suppressing it... that aura belongs to Hutton Maxwell."

Kenneth took a hesitant step forward. "Then—what should we do?"

Ling Fei’s gaze flicked toward him, then back to the street, where the group disappeared into the mist toward a particular corner right next to the mayor’s district — the exact direction of Everlyn’s office.

She turned away from the window, her tone cold and authoritative.

"Luang Hi, prepare the car. We’re going after them. Now."

Luang Hi, her bodyguard nodded sharply and left the room without a word.

Veronica stood up, grabbing her bag and switching off the tablet. "So they’re going to Everlyn? You think she’s sheltering them?"

Ling Fei exhaled slowly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "She’s the mayor. She knows more than she’s letting on. And if Hutton’s showing himself again, that means things are about to escalate faster than we thought."

As they hurried out of the suite, Kenneth hesitated by the door, glancing back at the empty room, the flickering city lights beyond the window. "After everything he’s done... after what’s happened to this town... what do you think he’s planning now?"

Ling Fei paused only long enough to answer quietly, "If I know Hutton Maxwell — he’s not planning to run. He’s planning to take control."

The door closed behind them with a soft click, and within moments, the sound of car engines igniting echoed faintly beneath the fog-shrouded night — all heading toward the same place.

Toward Everlyn.

Toward the truth.

Toward the inevitable collision.