A bizarre and terrifying experience; I messed up the dungeon world.

He threw his backpack over the wall. Then he took two steps back. He took a running start. He tapped his cane on the ground. His body was airborne. He grabbed the top of the wall with both hands. He flipped over.

His movements were fluid and graceful. He didn't seem like someone with mobility issues at all.

Han Yingying stepped onto the wall. She climbed up in two steps and jumped down.

Old Ma and Liu Wei helped each other up. It took them a lot of effort to finally climb over.

They had just climbed over the wall when dozens of people rushed in from the alleyway entrance, carrying various heavy weapons.

The leader, dressed in a white suit, stared at the unconscious Sang Biao on the ground, his face ashen.

Behind the wall was a huge market.

There were no streetlights. Only oil lamps and glowing crystals on the stalls provided illumination. The lighting was dim.

The air was thick with the smell of barbecued meat, and also the stench of cheap tobacco.

There were so many people. Even more than on the street. People in all sorts of strange costumes were haggling over prices at the stalls.

After landing, Zhou Lang didn't linger. He walked straight into the crowd.

Han Yingying followed on his left. Lao Ma and Liu Wei followed behind.

"Brother Zhou, where are we going?" Liu Wei asked in a low voice. He kept glancing back at the wall as he walked, afraid that the Black Gold Guild members would come after them.

"I'm going to buy something," Zhou Lang said.

He clutched the points card he'd just snatched in his hand. Over seven thousand points. In this place, he should be able to buy something useful.

He needed engine oil. The chainsaw's fuel tank was almost empty. He also wanted some tools to conceal his identity. Being too conspicuous would hinder his understanding of the landing plan.

They strolled through the market.

Zhou Lang's gaze swept across the stalls on both sides.

The things sold here are a mixed bag. There are rusty iron swords. There are eyeballs in bottles. And there are worn-out bulletproof vests.

Many vendors wore masks or covered their faces with hoods. They didn't speak, only displaying a sign in front of their stalls with the prices listed.

Zhou Lang stopped in front of a stall.

Several metal drums were displayed on the stall. They were labeled "High-grade synthetic motor oil".

The stall owner was a thin man, wrapped in a gray cloak and wearing a white mask.

The mask has no facial features. It only has a smooth surface.

Zhou Lang stopped in his tracks.

This mask. It's exactly the same as the one locked in his drawer.

Han Yingying also saw the mask. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment. Her hand unconsciously tightened its grip on the hilt of the knife.

The mask from her dream. The mask of the underground fortress. Now. It has appeared in this market.

Zhou Lang walked over and stood in front of the stall.

The masked man raised his head. The mask was facing Zhou Lang. It had no eyes. But Zhou Lang could feel that the other man was looking at him.

"Engine oil. How much?" Zhou Lang asked, his voice flat.

"One thousand points per bucket," came the masked man's voice. It had been processed by a voice changer; it was impossible to tell if he was male or female. It sounded very mechanical.

"I want two buckets." Zhou Lang took out two points cards and placed them on the stall.

The masked man did not accept the card.

He looked at Han Yingying behind Zhou Lang.

"She's not selling." Zhou Lang took a step forward, blocking the masked man's view.

The masked man looked away, picked up the points card, swiped it on a nearby machine, and then pushed the card back.

"The oil is yours," the masked man said.

Zhou Lang lifted the two cans of engine oil. They were very heavy, but he lifted them steadily with one hand.

He looked at the masked man.

"Where did you get your mask?" Zhou Lang asked.

The masked man didn't answer. He rolled up the cloth on his stall, gathered up the rest of his goods, and turned to leave.

Zhou Lang put down the oil drum. He prepared to give chase.

"Don't chase after him." Han Yingying grabbed his arm.

Zhou Lang turned around.

At the entrance to the market, several people in black jackets appeared, each with a red rose embroidered on their chest. The Black Gold Guild had come looking for them.

They were searching each stall, comparing a portrait to a real one.

The portrait depicts Han Yingying.

"They moved pretty fast," Old Ma said, shrinking back. "The Black Gold Guild has too much influence at the transit station. They have informants everywhere."

Zhou Lang stared in the direction the masked man had disappeared. He had blended into the crowd. He was nowhere to be found.

He looked away and picked up the engine oil.

"Change your clothes," Zhou Lang said.

He walked over to a clothing stall nearby, tossed down a thousand points, and picked up four hooded black robes.

The four men put on robes, donned hoods, and covered their faces.

Zhou Lang put his crutch back into his backpack. He couldn't use the crutch. It would be too conspicuous. The Black Gold Guild was definitely looking for a disabled man on crutches and a beautiful woman with a knife.

He tried to shift his weight onto his right leg. He took a step. A sharp pain shot up his knee.

He gritted his teeth. His face remained expressionless. He continued walking forward, his pace the same as a normal person, only slightly slower.

Han Yingying looked at his leg. She knew Zhou Lang had an old leg injury. He wouldn't be able to hold on for long without crutches.

She moved to Zhou Lang's left, leaning her shoulder slightly against him, subtly sharing some of his weight.

Zhou Lang glanced at her. He didn't refuse.

Four people dressed in black robes mingled in the crowd, heading towards another exit of the market.

Members of the Black Gold Guild walked past them, carrying portraits and scanning the crowd with their eyes.

A minor leader stopped in front of Zhou Lang.

He looked at the large bag on Zhou Lang's back.

"Stop!" the foreman said.

Zhou Lang stopped. He reached into his robe and grasped the handle of the chainsaw.

Old Ma and Liu Wei were behind them, not daring to breathe.

The squad leader walked over, staring at Zhou Lang's hood.

"Take off your hat," the foreman ordered.

Zhou Lang didn't move. He was calculating the distance. If he pulled out the chainsaw and cut upwards, he could cleave the man in two in a second. But blood would splatter, attracting everyone's attention.

Do not take action unless absolutely necessary.

"We're bounty hunters," Han Yingying said, her voice low and slightly hoarse. "Don't you know the rules? No showing your face."

The leader glanced at Han Yingying.

"The Black Gold Guild does things its business. We don't care about your rules." The leader reached out and pulled at Zhou Lang's hood.

Zhou Lang's finger landed on the switch of the chainsaw.

Suddenly, a loud bang came from the center of the market.

"boom!"

A stall exploded. Flames shot into the sky. The crowd screamed and scattered.

The leader was startled. He turned to look.

"Someone's causing trouble! Over there!" someone shouted.

The henchman ignored Zhou Lang and ordered his men to run towards the explosion site.

Zhou Langsong turned off the switch and withdrew his hand.

"Let's go," Zhou Lang said.

They quickened their pace and left the market.

Outside the market was an abandoned factory area. There were no streetlights. It was very dark.

Zhou Lang leaned against the wall. A layer of cold sweat appeared on his forehead. His right leg was trembling slightly.

He put down his backpack, took out an oil can, and oiled the chainsaw.

"That was close," Liu Wei said, patting his chest. "Who caused the explosion?"

"The masked man," Zhou Lang said.

He just saw it. When the masked man left, he left a black package under that stall.

The masked man is helping them. Or rather, the masked man is creating chaos.

Han Yingying leaned against the wall on the other side, watching Zhou Lang add engine oil.

"He knows me," Han Yingying said. "The way he looked at me just now... like he was looking at an object."