NOVEL NEXT Ch. 123
Chapter 123: Barbaric Collision
“Boom!”
The moment he opened the car door, he saw a vortex suddenly twist out of the thick fog on the left side of the vehicle.
From within the fog, a massive eight-meter-high freight truck, its entire body forged from strange metal, lunged out like a tiger pouncing from the forest.
It burst through the fog, accelerating with a momentum that still stomped on the gas even at three hundred kilometers per hour, slamming solidly into their vehicle.
In the blink of an eye, the car crumpled like an aluminum can crushed underfoot.
It all happened in half a second. If slowed down, one could see the car frame gradually compress inward, the airbags deploying only to burst apart.
No matter what kind of safety training they had received, no matter how powerful the encrypted spells they knew, no matter how strong their firepower—inside the vehicle, they could only be like tomatoes crushed into splattering pulp by an overwhelming force.
The fastest to react had already gotten half his body out of the car when the Phantom Truck appeared.
But the next moment, the vehicle beneath him was crushed and sent flying. His legs, not yet fully withdrawn, were struck by the rebounding car door—crack!—snapping instantly, and his body was flung away by the violently recoiling vehicle.
He spun several times mid-air before crashing heavily to the ground and sliding far away, a layer of flesh scraped off his body.
A massive wave of dizziness flooded his head. Using all his strength, he forced his eyes open a sliver and saw that colossal mechanical beast, having smashed his car into scrap, whip around sharply and ram the second vehicle head-on, grinding it beneath its chassis.
The momentum did not diminish. In just the instant they crossed paths, the gust and turbulence it stirred flipped over the third car.
Screams, shrieks, panic…
Some died instantly inside the cars; others moaned or screamed in agony.
The mechanical beast drove back into the fog, almost gleefully, then charged at the overturned vehicle.
Like a bull.
Reverse, crash!
Reverse, crash!
It flattened the third still-intact vehicle into a patty of metal and flesh.
“How… how is this possible?”
“Is this… the one from Highway 59?”
“No, the one on Highway 59… didn’t look this new…”
“…”
The sole survivor was nearly driven insane. Dragging his injured leg—one now reduced to only half, the other ground to a bloody mess against the pavement—his gun long gone, he no longer even thought of reaching for it.
He used every ounce of strength to hide, clawing forward, trying to crawl quietly out of this bizarre fog.
He even thought he might succeed, having crawled through the mist for what felt like a long time, far from that nightmarish scene.
But then—he suddenly heard a blaring horn ahead. Every hair on his body and scalp stood on end. Lifting his head with difficulty, he met two blinding beams of light that dazzled him into disorientation.
Only then, with all his strength, did he see—on both sides of him lay the wreckage of the cars that had just been destroyed.
At some point, he had crawled back into the middle of the same highway where the crash occurred.
“You—”
He used all his strength to curse, but only managed to spit out one word before the rest stuck in his throat.
What use was cursing against an eight-meter-tall steel monster?
He heard it, the steel beast, gathering momentum with all its might, its engine thundering in sync with a blood-and-flesh heart’s pounding. Each roar was as if the monster had already crushed him once more.
It erased even the thought of fleeing. All he could do was madly raise his palm.
His spiritual power, mingled with all the blood flowing from his body, seeped outward as he chanted the highest-level spell he knew.
It was his strongest—one that could instantly kill four people if completed.
He executed it well. Only one second was needed to finish the chant. But before he could, he had barely spoken a few syllables when the monster had already charged toward him.
The wind it stirred filled his mouth, tangling his tongue. The piercing headlights stabbed into his soul, scattering his focus.
And the most crucial thing was… the truck’s mass—
…When a massive truck front of unparalleled size bore down on him at three hundred kilometers per hour, there was nothing he could do.
He let out half a whimper before being swept under its wheels like a withered weed.
There wasn’t even much of a scene.
Only a single thought of regret bloomed in his mind: “Seriously? We were only sent here to check on a truck…”
…
…
“What happened back there?”
Xu Ji leaned over the back seat, staring intently.
The endless fog, the faint sounds within it, and the occasional blinding headlights carried an eerie air that piqued his curiosity.
The three pursuing cars had just been swallowed by the mist, sending a shiver of excitement down his spine.
“No idea.”
Han Su slowly exhaled, lowering his palm. The cross-shaped bronze scar on the back of his hand gradually faded, as if sinking into his flesh.
He said to the driver, “It’s too dangerous outside the city. Let’s hurry back into the city.”
As he spoke, the fog behind them began to thin. Xu Ji’s eyes widened. All he saw was emptiness—except, at the edge of the dispersing mist, a colossal freight truck wildly shaking its cargo bed.
“Huh?”
The scene hit Young Master Xu like a punch to the gut. He knew this was a secret, and barely held back from blurting out: “Did I just see another freight truck wagging its ass?!”
But Han Su ignored him, shaking his head to clear the lingering emptiness in his mind.
It’s good…
He thought back to what he had just sensed. It was as if his will had been torn, part of it appearing where the Phantom Truck was, seeing everything illuminated by its headlights. That overwhelming crushing force even made his own heart tremble.
Twice now, he had faced the Phantom Truck—once forcing it back, once subduing it.
But truthfully, he had no desire to face it a third time.
How crazy did someone have to be to stand against a freight truck whose cab alone was seven or eight meters high?
The only issue: Does summoning this thing drain my personal spiritual power?
From his guess, the Phantom Truck once instinctively absorbed vengeful ghosts—but with none left now, perhaps his own energy replaced them.
Still, the truck’s instinct remained. The spiritual remnants of those it crushed seemed to dissolve into the fog accompanying it, so that was no concern…
…
Out on the road, when the Bulbous-Nosed Man couldn’t reach his men, he floored the gas toward the outskirts, a bad feeling creeping in.
He wasn’t worried about the newcomer to the Disaster Management Bureau—he knew the caliber of his own men, far beyond what a mere execution member could handle. But the Queen Organization and the Xu family’s involvement was not to be taken lightly.
When he arrived and found the mangled wreckage and flesh, he stepped out of his car. His face darkened as he surveyed the devastation.
Taking out a flat flask, he took a hard swig, then muttered low: “『The Dead Must Return』.”
In an instant, a strange power appeared from nowhere, as if piercing the boundary between life and death.
The tattered corpses all around seemed force-fed a spark of vitality—their limbs twitched.
But only twitched.
As though a gust of wind had blown them, once it passed, they were corpses again.
He frowned, then with a wave of his hand, the entire area began to writhe, as if the ground itself was alive.
All the wreckage and corpses sank into the earth, and within moments, the road looked untouched, as if nothing had happened.
A cold smile curled his lips. “Didn’t even ask who they were—just killed them all outright?”
“Seems I underestimated this newcomer’s ruthlessness…”
…
…
At that moment, Han Su had no interest in what happened on the road. After re-entering the city, he found a quiet spot, got out quickly, and walked to Wei Lan’s car to take the makeup case she had prepared for him.
Though the trip had gone without major incident, he knew the risk Wei Lan had taken. Grateful, he wanted to thank her—but Wei Lan suddenly grabbed his hand.
Her face smiled, but her eyes were deadly serious. “From now on, if you need help, come to me. If you need someone to talk to, call me. Even if…”
Her voice dropped, spiritual power flowing into Han Su’s hand with her resolute words, “…it’s to stand against incomprehensible beings, to slay gods—make sure you bring me with you.”
“Can you?”
“…”
“…”
Han Su looked into her eyes, paused, then smiled and nodded.
He couldn’t quite name the feeling. It wasn’t exactly being moved, but it wasn’t pure inevitability either.
If he had to describe it—it was an unspoken understanding.
A mutual entanglement of fate and support. After a night of danger and twists, it brought him a rare peace.
As if, when facing the vast unknown, he now finally had someone by his side he could rely on.
As for what happened outside the city, he didn’t care in the slightest.
What did it have to do with him? The Phantom Truck was already his. Those criminals who left the city and ran into bizarre phenomena… well, they deserved it.