Trapped Beneath the City

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

Both men were breathing heavily.

Steffan’s clothes were soaked with sweat, blood stained his shoulder where the bullet had struck, and the lingering smell clinging to his chest made every breath more unbearable than the last. White Ghost looked even worse. His face was pale, his lips had lost all color, and every step sent a sharp pain through the broken ribs hidden beneath his torn clothes.

The empty road ahead looked like salvation.

A few passing vehicles rolled by beneath the dim streetlights.

Steffan’s eyes lit up.

"As long as we get a car, we can still escape," he muttered through clenched teeth.

Without another word, the two rushed toward the nearest vehicle.

Just as they were about to hijack a car and escape, several police cars stopped right in front of them.

Screech!

The sound of tires scraping against the asphalt shattered the silence.

Red and blue lights flashed across the street, illuminating the exhausted pair.

Car doors flew open one after another.

More than a dozen officers quickly stepped out, weapons drawn.

The police officers got out, took one look at Steffan, and immediately recognized him.

One officer immediately shouted,

"It’s him!"

"The suspect from the Ashbourne family’s report!"

Another raised his firearm.

"Don’t move!"

"We’re police!"

They had already received Ashbourne family’s report and were preparing to help with the search.

Seeing him walk right into them, they shouted and rushed forward to arrest him.

"Cuff him!"

"Don’t let them get away!"

Several officers closed in from different directions.

The road that had seemed like freedom a moment ago suddenly became another trap.

"Run."

Steffan didn’t expect the police to react so quickly. He turned and led White Ghost back into the alley.

The two immediately spun around.

Ignoring the pain from their injuries, they sprinted back the way they had come.

Behind them, whistles echoed through the night.

"After them!"

"They’re fleeing!"

Meanwhile, the Ashbourne family’s bodyguards had already chased from the other end of the alley.

Flashlights appeared at the opposite entrance.

The captain of the bodyguards immediately spotted Steffan.

"There!"

"He’s cornered!"

"Close in!"

Heavy footsteps thundered from both directions.

Just as they were about to be caught in a pincer movement, Steffan noticed a door on the side.

It was old, faded, and barely hanging on its rusted hinges.

Without hesitation, he rushed toward it.

He pushed it open, rushed inside, and locked it behind him.

Bang!

The wooden door slammed shut.

White Ghost hurriedly shoved a broken cabinet against it.

Outside, pounding footsteps grew louder.

Behind the door was an old residential building slated for demolition.

The interior was silent.

Peeling wallpaper hung from cracked walls.

Broken windows allowed the cold night wind to whistle through empty rooms.

Dust floated through the air with every step they took.

The entire building felt abandoned for years.

They rushed up to the second floor, and the sound of someone kicking the door echoed below.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

"The door won’t hold!"

One bodyguard shouted from outside.

"Break it!"

Another heavy kick landed.

Wood splintered.

The old lock groaned under the repeated impacts.

White Ghost leaned against the wall, gasping for breath.

His face showed obvious panic.

His confidence from earlier had completely disappeared.

"Steffan, what do we do?" White Ghost asked, his face showing some panic.

He hadn’t expected that he and Steffan would be chased like dogs.

The irony was bitter.

Not long ago they had walked proudly into the Ashbourne residence believing everything was under control.

Now...

They were running for their lives.

"Don’t panic."

As the Martial Art King of Africa, Steffan became calmer in life-and-death situations.

His breathing gradually steadied.

His sharp eyes rapidly scanned every corner of the abandoned building.

Every window.

Every hallway.

Every possible escape route.

There was a road below the window, and jumping down to hijack a car wasn’t impossible.

He stepped closer to the broken window.

Below, headlights occasionally passed along the quiet road.

The drop wasn’t too high.

Ordinarily, he could easily survive it.

But the police were already involved.

If they tried to escape by car now, they wouldn’t get far before being caught.

The police would immediately begin pursuit.

Roadblocks.

Surveillance cameras.

Patrol units.

Everything would work against them.

The only option was to hide!

Steffan slowly narrowed his eyes.

His mind raced.

Where could two injured men disappear without anyone noticing?

After scanning the area, his gaze finally settled on a manhole on the road.

The cover had been removed and placed aside, making it a perfect hiding spot.

His eyes immediately brightened.

"The sewer..."

"No one will think to search there first."

At that moment—

Crash!

The front door downstairs finally gave way.

Fragments of rotten wood scattered across the floor.

"They’re inside!"

"Search every room!"

"Don’t let them escape!"

Heavy footsteps rushed into the building.

The pursuers were about to rush upstairs.

"Hide there."

Knowing he couldn’t wait any longer, Steffan said and jumped down from the second floor.

He landed in a crouch.

Pain shot through his injured shoulder.

His stabbed backside protested immediately.

Still, he gritted his teeth and endured it.

White Ghost followed behind.

The two quickly rushed into the manhole, and Steffan didn’t forget to cover it with the lid.

Their movements were so swift that the people on the road didn’t even notice them.

The dark tunnel instantly swallowed both men.

A damp, rotten smell struck them the moment they entered.

Steffan quietly pulled the heavy cover back into place above them.

Darkness returned.

Just after they went in, a small truck loaded with steel happened to stop right there.

The driver had no idea what lay beneath him.

He simply waited for the traffic signal to change.

Coincidentally, the truck’s wheel pressed down on the manhole cover.

The heavy load settled directly over the entrance.

When the pursuers reached the window, they found no trace of the two.

"They vanished?"

"No way..."

"Search downstairs!"

"They couldn’t have gone far!"

Unable to find any sign of Steffan or White Ghost, the bodyguards immediately spread throughout the building.

So they continued searching the building.

The two hid in the manhole for about half an hour.

Time passed painfully slowly.

The sewer was dark and humid.

Dirty water trickled through narrow channels below.

Mosquitoes buzzed around them.

The stench became stronger with every passing minute.

With his exceptional hearing, Steffan finally heard the annoying footsteps fade away.

The shouting above gradually disappeared.

Vehicle engines started.

Flashlights no longer swept across the road.

"They’re gone."

Steffan finally let out a long breath.

At this moment, the two were hanging one above the other on the ladder inside the manhole.

The manhole was part of the sewer system, and the stench below was unbearable.

The foul odor mixed with mold, sewage, and stagnant water until breathing itself became difficult.

White Ghost was already about to faint from the smell.

His face turned green.

His stomach churned violently.

He dry-heaved a few times and shouted, "Steffan, let’s get out of here. It stinks too much down here."

"Alright."

Steffan was also feeling nauseated.

The gunshot wound on his shoulder was manageable; he had already stopped the bleeding by pressing acupoints.

What tormented him was the dog shit on his chest.

The fresh stench it emitted mixed with the sewer smell made him feel like he was in hell.

Even someone with his mental strength struggled to endure it.

His face twitched.

"I swear..."

"I’ll never forget tonight."

Taking a deep breath, he climbed carefully toward the manhole entrance.

He braced both hands beneath the iron cover.

His muscles tensed.

He pushed with all his strength.

The cover didn’t move.

Frowning, he pushed harder.

Nothing.

He activated more internal force.

Veins bulged along both arms.

The heavy iron cover remained completely still.

He climbed to the manhole entrance and pushed the cover hard.

The cover didn’t budge, as if it was pressed down by a mountain.

Steffan’s expression changed instantly.

What the hell is going on?

"What’s wrong, Steffan?" Seeing Steffan struggle to open it, White Ghost felt something rising in his throat.

He swallowed it back down, feeling like he was about to collapse.

His stamina was almost depleted.

He had a few ribs broken by Lina Ashford and Liza Voss.

Then he was beaten up by the Ashbourne family, and now he had to breathe in the rotten stench of the sewer.

This kind of torture, worse than death, was driving him to the brink.

"It won’t open. It seems like something’s pressing it down."

Steffan was embarrassed.

It was fine when they came in, but now they couldn’t get out!