Just as he rounded a corner and was about to reach the upper passage, a beam of energy suddenly shot out from the side. It grazed the edge of his diving suit and struck the metal bulkhead behind him, sending a spray of rusted fragments flying.
Byrne's heart tightened. He slammed on the diving suit's emergency brakes, bringing his body to an abrupt halt. At the same time, he ducked behind a broken support pillar, narrowly avoiding the follow-up attacks.
"Kid, let's see where else you can run."
Two squad members had already caught up, flanking the ends of the passage. The beams from their energy guns flickered in the gloomy depths of the sea, locking onto Byrne's hiding spot.
The Captain and another squad member followed close behind, approaching slowly with expressions full of mockery and indifference. In their eyes, Byrne was nothing more than a lucky clerk—hardly a match for elites like them.
Byrne didn't respond. Seeing his pursuers drawing closer, he immediately pulled out a device that resembled a remote control. This was the only weapon he had managed to bring from the escape pod: a remote-controlled pulse bomb.
Waiting until the pursuing squad reached the predetermined spot, Byrne pressed the activation button.
A low hum instantly exploded within the narrow passage. Pale purple pulse ripples erupted from the bomb, rapidly expanding in all directions.
The Captain, who was at the rear, was the first to realize something was wrong. "Not good! It's a pulse bomb! Get away, fast!" he shouted a warning.
But before the words could fully leave his mouth, the pulse ripples swept over them.
The two team members in the lead were hit instantly. Their diving suits were scrambled by the pulse signals; the built-in oxygen systems failed immediately. A piercing static noise filled their communicators, and even the targeting systems of their energy guns were completely paralyzed. The muzzles of their weapons swung wildly, striking the bulkheads and sending sparks flying.
One team member's voice was laced with panic. Through his diving mask, his face could be seen turning a frantic red as his hands hammered at the control panel, unable to reboot the system.
The other member fared even worse. The pulse wave directly interfered with his suit's propulsion module. Losing control of his body, he drifted downward like a puppet with its strings cut, his eyes wide with despair.
The Captain and the remaining squad member reacted with lightning speed. The moment the pulse wave hit, they activated their suits' anti-interference shields. Although they couldn't completely block the pulse's effects, they managed to protect their core systems.
"Curse you!" the Captain roared, cursing as he stared at Byrne's receding figure. "Kid, don't think you can escape that easily. Keep chasing!"
Once the pulse signal subsided, the Captain and the last remaining member immediately resumed their pursuit.
Meanwhile, using his suit's thrusters, Byrne maneuvered nimbly through the narrow, twisting passages. Relying on the real-time map scanned by his optical computer, he constantly adjusted his direction, swimming toward the rift he had originally entered through.
It didn't take long for the pursuers to catch up again.
The energy beams behind him remained dense. Every shot grazed the hull of his suit, striking the rusted metal pipes ahead and blasting away fine metallic debris that drifted slowly in the seawater.
The internal structure of the shipwreck was inherently complex. Combined with the erosion from several Amber Eras of seawater, many passages had long since collapsed or become blocked, barely leaving enough room for one person to pass.
Using his temporary memory of the terrain, Byrne kept ducking into narrow side alleys, trying to shake his tail. However, the four members of the Marketing Development Department were seasoned veterans who coordinated their efforts perfectly. Two pursued from behind while two flanked him from the sides, clinging to his trail and refusing to give him a moment to breathe.
Thump!
A dull impact echoed. Byrne's shoulder accidentally slammed into a hanging, twisted pipe. A surge of sharp pain traveled through the diving suit's conduction system, and his thruster speed lagged for a heartbeat.
The Captain seized this opening and fired again.
A pale blue energy beam grazed Byrne's waist, burning a small hole in the suit's outer protective layer. Cold seawater seeped in instantly, bringing a bone-chilling sting.
Seeing that he had scored a hit, the Captain mocked, "Keep running! I want to see how much longer you can last."
Byrne gritted his teeth, enduring the pain in his shoulder and the chill of the seawater. He slammed the thrusters to maximum power, his body surging through a collapsed section of the passage like an arrow leaving a bow. He knew very well that if he were caught, not only would the mission fail completely, but he would also be a dead man.
At that moment, his optical computer suddenly emitted a frantic alarm. A red prompt flashed across the screen:
[WARNING: Passage exit 300 meters ahead will collapse in 5 seconds.]
The red warning for the passage collapse flashed wildly. The shrill alarm was muffled by the sea, but every beat hammered against Byrne's heart.
Looking at the pursuers getting closer and closer, Byrne clenched his jaw. His gaze darted between the collapse warning and the narrow exit ahead. The rift he had used to enter was only a hundred meters beyond that exit.
But at his current speed, five seconds was simply not enough time to make it out before the cave-in.
Five seconds— Three hundred meters—
Behind him were the encroaching enemy soldiers; ahead was the passage about to be sealed shut. His thrusters were already at full capacity. At this rate, he couldn't make it.
Without time to overthink, Byrne had a sudden flash of inspiration. His right hand flew to his waist, grabbing the emergency gas cylinder. This was the final life-saving measure provided by the Black Sail Federation for these diving suits—a one-time high-pressure jet that could provide an immense burst of thrust. Its duration was exactly five seconds.
He had to rely on it for this final moment.
With that thought, Byrne gripped the emergency cylinder and slammed his thumb down on the valve.
Hiss!
High-pressure gas erupted from the rear of the cylinder. The diving suit felt as if it had been strapped to a rocket; the thrust surged violently. The suit groaned under the unbearable strain, the frame vibrating so violently it felt like it might disintegrate at any second.
As the five-second countdown neared its end, they were still a dozen meters from the exit. However, just as Byrne thought he was about to burst through, the unexpected happened.
A loud boom echoed from the exit ahead. The collapse calculated by the computer had occurred early.
The high-pressure jet was still firing, and Byrne couldn't stop his momentum. In the nick of time, he twisted his body and curled into a ball, concentrating all the suit's protective energy onto his back as he slammed hard into the side bulkhead.
The Captain caught up, holding a remote control of his own. He mocked with a smug expression, "Heh, don't think you're the only one who can set traps. I can do it too. You've already lost. Surrender now."
Seeing the enemy closing in, Byrne, driven into a corner, remembered the message Aventurine had sent him before the Grand Chariot set sail.
[Byrne, I wish you smooth sailing. Aside from that chip, you'd better take good care of that Curio I gave you.]
[It's called "Dimensional Strike." It can be used three times. If you ever run into trouble you can't solve, just throw it out.]
At this point, he could only gamble. He hoped Aventurine hadn't lied to him.
Byrne took a deep breath, endured the pain from the impact, and stood up.
"Heh, who wins and who loses... that hasn't been decided yet."
As soon as he finished speaking, Byrne threw the metal box Aventurine had given him straight at them.