Chapter Forty-Six: The Crucial Moment

Most of the expanse atop the icefields appeared flat, but it was not truly without undulation. From a high vantage, the endless whiteness gave an illusion of perfect smoothness, but in truth, these regions were riddled with depressions. When Fang Mu had climbed the hill earlier, he had already sensed as much; some dips were even quite pronounced.

He hadn’t paid it much heed before, but now, these uneven slopes became the crucial element upon which his next gambit would depend.

Like a nimble fox, Fang Mu darted down the small glacier and slipped into the gently rolling ice fields. He moved swiftly, his eyes constantly scanning for the direction of the crevasses, his mind whirring with calculations.

The battle raged fiercely in the distance. If those gunfighters were indeed as he surmised—gene rounds loaded, biding their time for a critical moment—then their attention must now be wholly fixed on the clash. Unless forced, they would not fire lightly.

The cost of a single shot was no trifling matter—sixty million for one bullet! Anyone would feel the weight of such stakes, and none would dare waste a round.

Fang Mu boldly reasoned: if his deduction was correct and they truly possessed gene rounds, those rounds must have been supplied by Greed Wolf, not purchased with their own resources. Bronze-rank gunfighters seldom had the means or resolve for such extravagance.

That only added to their pressure. The gene rounds Greed Wolf provided were surely meant for key targets—Lin Chuyin and the other gold-rank evolvers—not an “outsider” like him. They would not dare squander such precious ammunition on the wrong mark.

Thus, even if Fang Mu’s presence was exposed and noticed, there would inevitably be a moment’s hesitation. And that fleeting hesitation—was Fang Mu’s window of opportunity!

In a gunfighter’s duel, everything hinged on a single instant. One shot—the difference between life and death was decided. In such a moment, even the slightest pause could overturn the outcome.

The pressure and indecision weighing on these men would at least ensure Fang Mu survived after firing his first shot.

But the chance would only come once. They were no fools—if Fang Mu claimed another life with his shot, the two survivors would immediately sense the real threat. To attempt a second shot as calmly as the first, and then escape unscathed, would be impossible.

Gene rounds were costly, but what price could compare to one’s life? Once they realized their lives were in true peril, they would no longer care what was loaded in their chambers. If Fang Mu dared show himself again, they would fire without hesitation, no matter what their guns held.

“Of course, most likely, if I shoot and take another down, the remaining two will split roles: one keeps the gene round chambered, ready to support Greed Wolf’s men at a critical moment, while the other ejects his gene round and focuses solely on hunting me.”

Fang Mu’s mind raced, deducing their possible responses and next steps.

In the end, he reached a conclusion:

“So this one shot must reap the greatest result possible… or, at the very least, I must prolong that first, unguarded moment of hesitation.”

Fang Mu narrowed his eyes, and gradually, his strategy became ever clearer.

…

“No, the shot’s not possible—her movement is too quick, there’s no way to predict her next step!”

“At five kilometers, even a ‘Thunder’ gene round will spend over two seconds in the air. These gold-rank evolvers are too fast; we can’t anticipate their trajectories. A rash shot could hit the wrong target.”

“Looks like we have no choice but to wait.”

Hidden amid the glacier crevasses, the three gunfighters kept their focus on the unfolding battle, exchanging hushed words.

From their position, they had a clear view of the entire scene, and the angle for shooting was excellent—after all, they had spent days observing and chosen this spot as the optimal vantage.

The distance was considerable, but that only made them more concealed. For men armed with gene rounds, it was hardly too far.

And yet, amidst the furious combat, none of them had fired a shot. Not because they lacked the will, but because they could not.

Their target was the gold-rank female heavy blade. Yet even the slowest gold evolver, such as a heavy blade, moved far swifter than any silver berserker.

As mere bronze ranks, they couldn’t possibly keep track of such figures in the chaos of a gold-rank skirmish—much less predict their next move.

It almost seemed they were powerless to help.

But that was not the case. Their purpose here was not to participate in the melee.

Greed Wolf’s preparations were thorough; four gold-rank deputy-level elites had come. If they truly wanted, they could crush the opposition head-on, perhaps even kill them outright.

So why had their patron gone to such expense, providing four gene rounds?

Were they careless with money, or simply foolish?

Clearly, neither. The reason was simple—

There were strong and weak among gold evolvers, but killing one another was supremely difficult. If beaten, an enemy could always flee.

And once the fight turned to a chase, the outcome was far from certain—it would not be resolved quickly. If the enemy had any gene seeds to aid their escape, their survival odds soared.

The patron had arranged for these gunfighters precisely to prevent such escapes.

Their role: to deliver a fatal strike when the enemy attempted to run.

Yes—the “critical moment” they awaited was when the enemy fled. That was the only time when prediction became feasible.

With their skill and the advantage of surprise, as soon as the enemy chose to escape, the outcome was all but sealed. The gene rounds in their chambers would find their mark.

There was no doubt of this.

“It seems the time is near. After battling those gold-rank beasts for so long, their gene energy must be nearly spent—they can’t hold out much longer. Keep your eyes fixed—no matter what, they mustn’t get away. Especially the heavy blade.”

Shen Tian spoke in a low voice, his tone resolute.

The heavy blade was the primary target, but that didn’t mean they intended to let the berserker or the female pugilist go. Given the heavy blade’s unusual status, they had made efforts to disguise themselves, but it would be best if none escaped.

No witnesses left—fewer troubles later.

The other two nodded, never taking their eyes from the scene.

Only Shen Tian, after speaking, frowned slightly and glanced in another direction.

He could not say why, but an uneasy feeling crept over him.

He knew that eight hundred meters away, another gunfighter was lurking.

From the fiery shot that killed Chang Le, he judged the stranger to be only an iron-rank gunfighter.

But gunfighters were always capable of killing above their rank. Even an iron-rank could be a mortal threat—Chang Le was proof enough.

“Still, that man’s target was likely Chang Le. The sudden blaze on the female heavy blade’s back was probably his doing, meant to alert the Palace of Immortals. His goal is achieved—seeing the current situation, he must realize the Palace is at an overwhelming disadvantage. So, he must have already retreated, surely?”

Shen Tian had seen the flames on Lin Chuyin’s back and observed everything clearly. This only confirmed his guess—the mysterious gunfighter was after Chang Le personally, not one of the Palace.

Otherwise, why bother firing a ‘blaze’ at the heavy blade? With so many from the Palace present, a single discreet message to any of them would have safely warned them of the ambush.

If he wasn’t from the Palace, there was no reason for him to stand and fight. Warning them was favor enough; with the Palace now so outmatched, if Shen Tian were in his place, he would have fled long ago.

Thinking this, Shen Tian relaxed a little, convinced his judgment was sound.

Still, almost unconsciously, he let his gaze sweep across the white expanse of the icefield.

It was as tranquil as ever. He exhaled softly, chastising himself for his overactive imagination.

He calmed his heart and settled in to await the “critical moment.”

He did not know that, a breath after he withdrew his gaze, a black speck appeared on the ice within his field of vision—only to vanish again behind the slope of a sunken hollow.