Beating Instances through Words Left by the Dead

Chapter 327: Chapter 195: Underground Shelter No. 88 (Part 3)

”Hello, Mr. Peace, Wu Chang told me before that you would contact me, I didn’t expect it to be so soon. Do I need to repeat what I said to Wu Chang earlier?”

Wu Chang: ”No need, and I’ve already entered the special refuge where you are, Shelter 88, right?” 𝘧𝓇ℯℴ𝓂

”Huh?” Fang Hui was stunned, he looked at the time on his phone, it had been less than 20 minutes since he hung up on Wu Chang.

”Is this what a professional is like, so efficient.”

Wu Chang said: ”Do you know where you’re being held in the shelter?”

Fang Hui hesitated for a moment, seemingly observing his surroundings, then he said:

”I’m not sure where I am, when I came in, my head was covered with a sack, I can only be certain that I’m being held in a stone building, the interior decor is very old-fashioned, possibly an ancient building.”

”The windows are full of fog, I can’t see further outside, can’t provide more information.”

Wu Chang frowned, he scanned around, Shelter 88, the overall style is futuristic, definitely more advanced than reality, no ancient stone buildings here.

Did this kid Fang Hui get bagged and moved somewhere else?

”How are you doing now, is there any danger?”

Fang Hui breathed a sigh of relief, said: ”No, the people here are quite friendly, very polite, they even lent me a charger just now, afraid I’d get bored, they also provided a computer, and even moved in a fridge.”

Pop.

As he spoke, Wu Chang heard the sound of a can being opened on the other end of the line, followed by the gulping sound of drinking, and finally a slight burp.

This bastard, even drinking chilled soda.

Fang Hui: ”The only pity is there’s no internet.”

Wu Chang took a deep breath, holding back the urge to swear.

”In that case, ensure your own safety first, if there’s danger or new information, call me immediately, my number won’t be restricted.”

To rescue Fang Hui, he set Fang Hui’s number to a fixed connection before starting the rescue.

Fang Hui said: ”Okay.”

Hanging up the call, Wu Chang rubbed his forehead, he originally worried Fang Hui wouldn’t adapt to the environment here, didn’t expect this bastard to be enjoying himself.

It seems he’s a Saint Heir, unlike the Peaceful Sect’s nominal Saint Heir candidate, who’s actually just free labor.

No matter what sect, as long as they want something from Fang Hui, they won’t harm him for now.

As long as the captors aren’t the Revelation sect, everything’s manageable.

Because Revelation doesn’t have a Saint Heir, only a Saintess, the ceremony being prepared outside might just be a transformation ritual.

With Meixiao Sect’s rejection and Meishen Sect’s resurgence, now joining lgbt is like migrating to Hiroshima in ’42.

Wu Chang sighed, silently wishing Fang Hui the best of luck.

He walked a few hundred meters further, and a bar appeared in front of him, its name was quite unique: ”Broken Bottle.”

The neon sign depicted a half-smashed bottle, with jagged sharp edges.

Just from the name, you could sense the bar’s atmosphere.

A bar is a great place, you can both experience the local culture and gather intelligence, if you enter a new level, there’s no better place than a bar.

When Wu Chang stepped into the bar, he was greeted by the sounds of cheering and applause, following the noise, he saw a sectioned-off area with a boxing ring covered by an iron cage.

The match rules permitted wearing a mecha covering the upper body, but no weapon systems were allowed on the mecha.

The boxing mecha wasn’t bulky, it’s a thin, portable exoskeleton, wearing it is not much different from wearing armor.

Two contestants were facing off in the ring, a Mediterranean hulk with a rough external mecha was warming up at the sidelines, clearly a local.

Opposing the hulk was a slender, bespectacled young man who appeared very frail.

Notably, the bespectacled man wasn’t wearing any mecha, intending to fight with just his body.

From his aura and movements, it wasn’t hard to tell he was a player, and a very strong, max-level player at that.

Wu Chang glanced briefly, then lost interest, the disparity in strength was too great, there was no suspense.

He approached the bar, and as soon as he did, he smelled the strong scent of alcohol in the air, glancing at the liquor shelf, it seemed there were no drinks with less than 60 proof.

He knocked on the bar, and said to the bartender;

”A hot milk, please.”

The bartender, who was polishing a glass, hissed, and using his non-prosthetic left hand, dug at his ear, ”Are you looking for trouble, kid?”

Wu Chang sighed, ”Don’t have it? Then a latte.”

The bartender slammed the glass onto the table with a bang, ”If you want to suck a pacifier, go home to your mommy, this ain’t a kid’s restaurant, get out.”

Wu Chang frowned, scanning around, and asked: ”Who’s the toughest here?”

The people around remained silent, seemingly not taking Wu Chang’s question seriously.

Just as Wu Chang was about to use ”Inspiration” to randomly select a lucky audience, a voice came from behind him.

”Hey, I step away for a moment, and someone takes my seat, someone’s got a death wish.”

Turning around, the speaker was wearing a studded leather jacket with a green mohawk, both arms equipped with implanted mecha, and half his head encased in a metal protective shell.