Chapter 304: Phone

On the grassland, beneath a baobab tree.

A human darted and dodged, fists swinging with fierce wind, body swift as lightning, strikes powerful.

Qin Yun adapted to the surging power, filled with joy.

Compared to painting skills or songwriting, this reward was clearly far more useful. His human peak period lasted long—he'd likely still be terrifyingly strong even at sixty.

Moreover, he didn't know if future system rewards would include even more extraordinary ones—perhaps one day he truly could achieve humanity's next evolution.

"Insane, insane, haha."

As his fists and feet landed, Qin Yun ended his practice and stood still.

From the outside, his appearance showed no major change, but his original muscle volume had indeed shrunk significantly—Su Huan would surely notice it.

Yet though it looked smaller, every inch of muscle was compressed into ultra-dense steel, with explosive power, instant acceleration, grappling force, and bodily reaction speed all surpassing his former limits.

If this still fell within human limits, then he had already reached the true pinnacle of humanity.

At one meter eighty-five, the power he could unleash would be unimaginably terrifying. Forget peak Tyson or Holyfield—even against a Chinese national, Qin Yun felt he could fight.

Of course, the former was real, the latter a joke.

But this also revealed just how massive Qin Yun's enhancement was—it had made him bold enough to challenge Ah Zu, even though Ah Zu had already been killed.

He was, after all, an undergraduate at North China Institute of Science and Technology—he understood basic physics.

With his current strength, what it meant was obvious. First, his bone density and strength far exceeded human limits—otherwise, he couldn't have withstood the recoil. Second, his joints and ligaments had to be terrifyingly strong, or they'd dislocate or tear the moment he exerted force.

Put simply, he now possessed combat power capable of sweeping the world—speed, strength, everything had leapt beyond the "Three Realms."

After finishing the natural drink in his canteen, Qin Yun drank another bottle, then began organizing his belongings.

Aside from the canteen and dagger, he carried nothing related to wild animals—only two containers filled with rock honey. All other scattered items were now unnecessary; he scattered them all on the ground.

He hung the two cans of rock honey around his neck, slung the canteen at his waist, and set off.

In the northern Sanjiaozhou of Maasai Mara, this was already human territory, with a small airport nearby. These small airports were like buses—the nearest to him was Musiara Airstrip (MDR), an official simple airport; one simply arrived and waited for the plane, with no security checks.

Following the direction of MDR, Qin Yun walked another half-day; near six p. m., he finally spotted the MDR sign.

Ahead, a crude thatched hut appeared in view—that was the terminal. Beside it stood a dark green metal shed; no one was inside the hut.

Qin Yun appeared there and knocked on the metal shed's door. Inside came a heavily accented English voice: "Who is it?"

"A tourist!"

The door creaked open, revealing a Black man in his forties or fifties. He sized up Qin Yun and said: "The last flight leaves in half an hour—bound for Nairobi, $260."

Qin Yun had prepared—he pulled three hundred dollars from a sewn inner pocket and handed it over: "Keep the change."

The man's eyes lit up; his warmth surged. He took the dollars from Qin Yun's hand and kissed them hard.

"My dear friend, thank you for your generous gift."

Qin Yun smiled. He'd carried two thousand dollars in cash, meant for after arrival. In Nairobi, he only needed to reach Jomo Kenyatta International Airport to retrieve everything Su Huan had prepared for him—phone, passport—all arranged in advance.

Harold was ticket agent, airport security, and manager—all in one. His monthly income was under two thousand dollars. That was already high pay—only because this place was barren, with zero entertainment, could such pay exist.

They chatted casually; half an hour later, a propeller-driven plane landed far down the runway.

"Qin, goodbye, safe travels."

"Harold, you too."

After bidding Harold farewell, Qin Yun boarded the plane, greeted the pilot, and found a random seat.

This process was no different from taking a bus—in fact, even more casual.

After a short wait, the plane taxied and took off.

Nearly two hundred kilometers—over an hour in the air—before arriving at Wilson Airport.

Exiting the airport, Qin Yun hailed a taxi waiting outside and headed straight for Jomo Kenyatta International Airport. Half an hour later, he successfully retrieved his items at the lost-and-found.

He changed clothes, put on a hat and sunglasses, then sent a WeChat message to his mother to report his safety, followed by a call to Su Huan.

The moment he dialed, the call was answered instantly.

"You've reached Jomo Kenyatta International Airport?"

"Yeah, just arrived. That's why I'm calling you now. It's one a. m. back home—go sleep. We can talk tomorrow."

"Okay." Su Huan had waited for this call all afternoon; now that she had it, she finally exhaled. "Husband, I miss you."

Qin Yun's heart softened, sweetly: "I miss you too."

……

The next morning, Qin Yun had planned to buy a ticket home directly—but somehow, he called the Chinese Embassy in Kenya.

"There's still no news, but families in China have contacted us—we're currently investigating."

Hearing this official reply, Qin Yun's eyes flickered slightly.

So something really happened? He hadn't asked for specific location or details—only whether Kenya had recently experienced any serious incidents, and whether any Chinese families had contacted the embassy.

Unexpectedly, the embassy's answer strongly confirmed that comment.

His expression changed. He asked immediately: "Was the incident at the Bour-Algi Giraffe Sanctuary in Garissa?"

On the other end, the breath caught. The tone instantly turned grave.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Qin Yun."

Half an hour later, Qin Yun stood inside the embassy, meeting the ambassador—Guo Feiyan, a woman in her early fifties.

"Comrade Qin Yun, hello. I'm Guo Feiyan."

"Ambassador Guo, hello. Just call me Xiao Qin."

The two shook hands briefly.

"Xiao Qin, can you explain how you knew the location of the hostage incident?"

Qin Yun nodded: "It was from the comments section. Yesterday during my livestream, a comment suddenly appeared on TikTok: 'Help, Garissa, Bour-Algi, help.' After ending the stream, I looked up that location."

He smiled helplessly: "I originally planned to fly straight back to Beijing today, but I still felt uneasy, so I came to ask—and didn't expect it to be true."

Guo Feiyan pressed her lips together, her expression serious; she had heard Qin Yun's name, though not from the public perspective.

After a moment's hesitation, she said: "Little Qin, it's exactly as you said—Kenya recently experienced a violent hostage incident. Armed bandits, in collusion with a tour guide, seized a group of tourists from our country, totaling twelve people. The Kenyan authorities have released no information yet. But the families of these tourists have all called in, demanding ransoms—starting at two hundred thousand U. S. dollars, with the highest reaching one million U. S. dollars, totaling three million U. S. dollars."

Qin Yun frowned and asked a naive question: "Can't our country send people over?"

Guo Feiyan didn't mind, shaking her head: "Crimes occurring on foreign soil cannot be intervened in unless the local authorities formally request assistance."

Qin Yun tapped his index finger against the desk, about to speak, when the phone on the desk suddenly rang.

Guo Feiyan picked it up, her expression visibly turning deeply respectful.

"Alright, he's right here with me. Yes, I'll have him take the call."

Guo Feiyan turned to Qin Yun: "Comrade Qin Yun, the leader wishes to speak with you."

"The leader?"

Qin Yun froze for a moment—until a familiar voice came from the other end, and only then did he understand.

"Comrade Qin Yun, congratulations on successfully completing this live broadcast."

Qin Yun was deeply surprised: "Thank you, Leader, for your concern."

Their last meeting had been at the award ceremony in Beijing; he hadn't expected to speak again so soon.

After a few brief pleasantries, the leader got straight to the point: "Little Qin, regardless of whether the ransom can be paid, the conditions on the ground mean they'll never release the hostages—they'll likely keep squeezing them until there's nothing left to squeeze, and then they'll kill them."

"The Kenyan police have taken charge of this case, but their operational efficiency is predictable. So I have a favor to ask."

Qin Yun's heart stirred slightly—he already guessed the other side's surface idea.

He quickly said: "Leader, where righteousness lies, I will spare no effort."

"Hahaha, I haven't even said anything yet." The voice on the other end laughed heartily, then turned serious: "We're urgently negotiating with Kenya. If no progress is made soon, the hostages' lives won't be safe. Since you're already there, try to investigate—but your own safety comes first. After all, you're not a professional."

Qin Yun nodded: "I understand."

"Remember—only investigate!"