The White Mist Forbidden Zone: I Have the X-ray vision

Anthony was captivated. He had seen espers and beasts clash before, but those battles were on a level too high for him to comprehend. Now, with his newfound understanding of the espers system and his enhanced abilities, he began to grasp the techniques being used.

The driver's movements were broad and forceful, with his espers energy channeling into his arms, making each swing of his machete more powerful. The driver was now chasing the demon hound, and if he managed to land a single blow, the creature would either be dead or severely injured.

What had once seemed like a terrifying beast to Anthony now appeared less daunting. In the danger zone, he had always avoided confrontation, fleeing whenever he encountered a monster. But now, this demon hound didn't seem so invincible.

As the driver kept the demon hound at bay, the passengers began to relax, with some even making comments.

"Wow, that driver is a D-rank espers!"

"Superhuman type with strength abilities, at least a C+ talent."

"Come on, finish that beast with one strike!"

"That old guy may look rough, but he's actually a skilled fighter."

Most of the passengers believed the driver had the upper hand, but Anthony was not so sure. Although the demon hound seemed less fearsome, it was still dangerous. The hound was too agile; despite the driver's apparent dominance, he had yet to land a hit.

Time passed, and after ten minutes of battle, the driver began to sweat. It was clear that his stamina wouldn't last much longer.

After repelling the demon hound with another swing, the driver panted heavily and cursed, "Damn it, where are the Watchmen? Why aren't they here yet?"

He glanced toward Kasnia Town, but the empty highway was devoid of any incoming vehicles.

What the driver didn't know was that several miles away, an off-road vehicle had flipped over on the side of the road. Nearby, two Watchmen stood with serious expressions. In front of them was a monstrous creature, its entire body shrouded in espers energy, obscuring its true form.

On the highway, the driver panted heavily, having fought the demon hound for nearly twenty minutes. Kasnia Town was less than forty miles away, so the Watchmen should have arrived by now. Their absence could only mean they were dealing with their own problems.

As he pondered how to break the stalemate, the demon hound suddenly charged at him. The driver swung his machete again, but the beast dodged and lashed its scorpion-like tail at his shoulder.

With a ripping sound, the driver was knocked to the ground, his thick jacket torn open. The sharp barbs had sliced a bloody gash across his back, staining his clothes with blood. Gritting his teeth, the driver got back on his feet, gripping his machete tightly, and positioned himself between the demon hound and the bus.

"Seriously? He can't win?"

"We're doomed! Are we all going to die?"

"I don't want to die..."

"Where are the Watchmen? Why aren't they here yet?"

"What the hell? He's been fighting for so long and hasn't landed a single hit, but now he's the one getting hurt?"

"This guy was supposed to be a Watchman? What a waste of talent! He better hold it off even if he dies..."

"Smack!"

A passenger who was complaining was suddenly slapped hard across the face by the old man with the hunched back.

The bus fell silent.

The old man's voice was cold as he spoke, "If he wasn't protecting us, he could have left long ago. There's no reason for him to risk his life holding that beast off. He's not even a Watchman anymore. Even if he were, he has no obligation to sacrifice himself for scum like you."

Moral indignation exists in every era, but that doesn't mean everyone will tolerate it.

The man who had been slapped was stunned for a moment, but before he could respond, he saw the old man limping off the bus, pulling a knife from his pocket as he went.

Was he planning to help?

Not only him, but six other burly men exchanged looks before also getting off the bus.

In this era, there were always cowards afraid of death, but there were also those brave enough to face danger head-on.

Outside, the driver, who was still facing off with the demon hound, noticed the group approaching. When he saw the old man leading them, he nearly choked on his own words.

"For God's sake, get back on the bus and stop messing around!"

The old man replied calmly, "I'm a retired espers too. I'll distract it, and you see if you can take it down."

"There's no need. I was just going easy on it. Watch me cut this beast down!" the driver retorted.

"Yeah, right. Watchmen don't brag."

"Well, I'm retired now, so I'm not a Watchman anymore."

One of the men grinned, "Driver, we might not be espers, but we've got some muscle. That beast is just a big dog. If we had weapons, we'd chop it to pieces."

"We've got numbers on our side. It might not dare to attack. You take a breather."

"I've never fought a beast before. Today might be my lucky day."

On the bus, Anthony watched the scene unfold, lost in thought.

He knew that the driver uncle had been struggling for at least five minutes; he could have left back then. The creatures attacked humans primarily for hunting. Choosing between a dangerous espers and a bus full of defenseless people was a simple decision.

But the driver didn't leave and kept holding on until now. Now, an old man, frail with age, and several ordinary people have stepped forward.

What that ordinary person said was true—the demon hound ahead was dangerous but not invincible. In the world of espers, C-rank was a critical dividing line.

C-ranked creatures or espers could unleash energy barriers, a power beyond normal human comprehension, rendering regular weapons ineffective against them.

Below C-rank, except for those with extremely abnormal abilities, ordinary people could theoretically kill them.

Amy had taught him these basic facts just a few days ago. If they were a group of well-trained soldiers, it wouldn't be a problem, but untrained ordinary people were basically seeking death.

Dangerous? Absolutely, but they still chose to fight alongside that driver.

Anthony's gaze became unfocused as a scene deeply imprinted in his memory surfaced in his mind. It was the image of a rescue team leaving on the deserted streets of a town.

Seven years ago, after several days of fear in a danger zone, he had finally been rescued by a team. But when they found out he couldn't leave the White Mist Zone, Anthony was abandoned. He had never forgotten that scene. It pained him for a long time, and his respect for soldiers gradually faded.

Anthony didn't understand it back then, but now, watching the driver uncle risking his life to drag the demon hound and seeing the group of ordinary people standing with him, he seemed to finally understand.

Those rescue teams didn't abandon him out of fear of danger—they left to save more people. Soldiers never feared danger; they were always ready to sacrifice themselves!

The beast stood off against the eight of them, but it didn't attack immediately. Obviously, it sensed danger as the numbers increased. Six strong men protected the old man behind them.

The old man was about to move forward when a hand suddenly rested on his shoulder. The old man turned around and found a pale, frail-looking young man. "Young man, you..."

Anthony smiled slightly. "Sir, may I borrow your dagger?"