A Humiliating Escape

The blade sank several centimeters into the muscle.

Pain exploded through his body.

Steffan’s eyes widened.

His face instantly twisted.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH... You dare attack my ass now you go to Hell!"

His furious roar echoed throughout the Ashbourne mansion.

The bodyguard who had landed the stab quickly leaped backward, gripping his bloodstained combat knife with both hands.

"I only aimed where you weren’t looking," he muttered under his breath.

Another bodyguard couldn’t help blurting out, "Captain... I don’t think he’ll be sitting comfortably for a while."

Despite the tense battle, several guards almost laughed before immediately regaining their composure.

"Focus! Don’t let them escape!" the captain barked.

Steffan’s face alternated between pain and fury.

His entire body trembled.

The stab itself wasn’t fatal, but the humiliation burned even more than the wound.

His eyes turned bloodshot.

He glared at every member of the Ashbourne security team as if trying to memorize their faces.

"You’ll all regret this!"

Without another word, he exploded forward.

Steffan was furious. He countered with a punch that sent the sneaky bodyguard flying and rushed over to grab White Ghost, ready to escape with him.

Boom!

The punch landed squarely in the bodyguard’s chest.

The man flew backward, crashing through an expensive coffee table before rolling across the marble floor.

Splinters scattered everywhere.

White Ghost, already barely standing, coughed another mouthful of blood.

"Boss..."

"Save your strength."

Steffan grabbed him beneath the shoulder and practically dragged him toward the courtyard.

"Move!"

The two burst through the shattered doorway into the mansion’s front garden.

Behind them—

"Stop them!"

"They’re escaping!"

"Seal every exit!"

Seeing the two break out of the encirclement, the bodyguards with guns finally didn’t have to hold back.

Until now they had hesitated because their own people were engaged in close combat.

Now the line of fire was completely clear.

Seven or eight pistols aimed at the two, and gunshots rang out continuously.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Muzzle flashes lit up the night one after another.

The smell of burnt gunpowder quickly filled the air.

Bullets shattered flower pots.

Stone columns exploded into fragments.

Tree branches snapped apart overhead.

Steffan didn’t dare slow down for even a second.

His instincts screamed danger.

After all, Steffan was at the mid-stage Gold Realm.

Even with an injured person, the bullets still couldn’t hit him.

He carried White Ghost with surprising speed despite the stab wound in his backside.

Each step blurred beneath the moonlight.

He zigzagged across the courtyard, using statues, trees, and decorative walls as temporary cover.

Several bullets barely grazed his clothes.

One passed so close that it sliced off a few strands of his black hair.

White Ghost grimaced.

"Boss... they’re too close!"

"I know!"

Steffan growled.

"Just don’t die before we get out!"

Just as he was about to jump over the wall, a bodyguard anticipated his move and fired three shots.

The captain had been quietly watching Steffan’s movements.

The instant Steffan bent his knees to leap—

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Three bullets shot toward three different landing angles.

This time, Steffan wasn’t so lucky.

He was mid-air with nowhere to leverage himself.

Despite twisting his body desperately, a bullet still hit his shoulder.

Pfft!

Blood burst into the air.

His body jerked violently.

"Damn it!"

The impact disrupted his balance completely.

After being shot, he fell from the air, landing right on a warm, slippery substance.

Thud!

He rolled twice before stopping.

His injured shoulder screamed in pain.

The wound on his backside throbbed again from the impact.

For several seconds, he simply lay there trying to regain his breath.

As he endured the pain and got up, he touched his chest and immediately smelled a foul stench.

His expression froze.

Slowly...

Very slowly...

He looked at the sticky brown substance covering both hands.

"Is this dog shit? And freshly laid?"

Silence.

Even the pursuing bodyguards slowed for a split second.

One younger guard blinked twice.

"...Captain."

"What?"

"I think Blackie left him a welcome gift."

Several nearby guards struggled not to laugh.

Another whispered, "First the knife... now this..."

"I almost feel sorry for him."

"Don’t."

The captain replied without changing expression.

"He earned it."

Realizing this, Steffan almost threw up.

His face turned green.

"What the hell!"

He frantically wiped his hands against the grass.

The smell refused to disappear.

White Ghost stared blankly.

"...Boss."

"What?"

"I think that’s really fresh."

Steffan nearly exploded.

"I DON’T NEED YOUR CONFIRMATION!"

White Ghost immediately shut his mouth.

Despite the desperate escape, one of the bodyguards couldn’t stop himself from shouting,

"Somebody remember where Blackie is! He deserves a bonus!"

Laughter briefly erupted among several younger guards before they resumed the chase.

"Enough joking!" the captain roared.

"Bring them down!"

"Yes, Captain!"

"Steffan, are you okay?" White Ghost, who hadn’t been shot, quickly looked at Steffan and shouted after landing.

"I’m fine, just got shot. Let’s run first."

At this moment, Steffan couldn’t care about much else.

Pain radiated from his shoulder.

His clothes were stained with blood.

His backside still burned from the knife wound.

And now...

There was an unbearable smell clinging to him.

His pride had suffered almost as much damage as his body.

No matter how powerful an Old Martial Arts was, getting shot was still a significant impact.

His breathing became noticeably heavier.

Blood dripped steadily from his shoulder onto the pavement.

The two fled down a small path, with the Ashbourne family’s bodyguards chasing them like mad dogs.

Flashlights cut through the darkness.

Footsteps echoed behind them.

"Split up!"

"Block the next intersection!"

"Don’t let them disappear!"

Dario Ashbourne had already given them orders.

As long as they captured Steffan, each would be rewarded with ten million!

The reward alone was enough to make every guard fight with everything they had.

Even the newer recruits ran as though their lives depended on it.

"No one lets ten million escape!"

"Move!"

They tracked them by the blood trail.

Every few meters another crimson drop landed on the ground.

The trail was impossible to miss.

So even though Steffan and his companion ran fast, they couldn’t shake them off.

Not to mention they had a few large wolves on leashes, making it even harder to escape by scent.

The massive animals lowered their noses to the ground.

Their handlers released the leashes.

"Track!"

The wolves immediately charged forward, following the scent of blood with frightening accuracy.

One of them suddenly stopped, sniffed the air, then sneezed loudly before continuing.

A nearby handler muttered with a straight face,

"I think even the wolves noticed something besides blood."

His partner answered,

"Don’t ask."

"I wasn’t planning to."

He ran, they chased with the wolves, and he was trapped.

Every turn led to another pursuit.

Every shortcut was quickly discovered.

His breathing became rougher.

White Ghost’s injuries slowed them further.

The gap behind them continued shrinking.

After a full fifteen minutes of pursuit, Steffan and his companion finally emerged from an alley onto the road.