Chapter 50: I Blundered—Turns Out the Opposite Side Isn

Just these few short minutes, that woman, from her first appearance a dozen minutes ago to now, from her real name to her deeds, has already been sent by the Intelligence Department into the hands of all Executors.

But it's not comprehensive; the activity records spanning nearly a thousand years are all lacking, obviously deliberately avoiding being recorded by the authorities.

But can they really evade? Though it might be said for a thousand years ago, a thousand years later the Heart of Terra has already begun operations.

Even if at that time the Heart of Terra's functions weren't yet perfect and the path of evolution had just begun, its grasp of information was still top‑notch; it shouldn't be possible for a celebrity like the Monster Shape King to remain hidden to this extent.

Is there some capable teammate helping? Or has the Heart of Terra long been scheming against this poor wretch?

The Executor made guesses in his mind, looked again at the data, and felt some doubts.

But this also counts as a celebrity, the kind that appears in history textbooks; for someone like Aomo, a top student, it's also well‑known.

"Oh? That poor wretch who was crushed in his first battle by the Human Union Leader? He really is a Pite star person, huh?" In the youth's astonishment, there was complete agreement; after sighing, he suddenly waved his hand, "But it doesn't matter—what's important is speed!"

"Listen to me, send people to bet on these eight routes; if you can get more people to seal the sky, that's a sixty percent success rate! Think about it!"

"Think it over well!"

The youth, with a confidence the Executor still couldn't understand, earnestly urged him: "Think about what merit capturing that woman would earn?"

"Think about whether you could get promoted, whether you wouldn't need to be assigned to supervise me anymore?"

"Think about the future where you can escape this meaningless work!"

"What kind of business demon are you?!" The Executor's work ethic destined him not to buy into this sales pitch.

"Miss this village and there's no such shop; I don't care if you don't believe me, but that criminal's impact this time can be considered utterly heinous, right? How many buildings have been toppled, and how many responders have died?"

Earlier he appealed with reason; now Aomo appeals with emotion.

"He even incited a large number of criminals in this city."

Speaking, he swiped his finger, the map app switched to a browser, filled with shocking‑headline case news; the release times looked fresh, the most recent even four minutes ago.

Then he turned back, looked again at the Executor: "If every chance were let slip by you, wouldn't you feel tormented?"

"Could it be that you can't even sleep at night?"

"You could even push all the blame onto me, saying I won't let you trust me, thus wasting the chance to capture her, and any storms she stirs up causing deaths would be my fault, right?" "Alright, shut up! If we come up empty, I'll push the blame onto you!"

Finally, the Executor, unable to hold back, grabbed the communicator and glared angrily at the noisy youth.

You couldn't do it either; Aomo silently turned off screen sharing and switched the webpage.

He closed the promotional page on the Two Worlds Safety Bureau website listing the top hundred model Executors.

Moreover, her photo was still up; fortunately, enough webpages were open, the title compressed short to just a 'Two', so this temporary check on her background attracted no notice from the parties involved.

And thus he didn't even notice he was being targeted.

Seeing the Executor busy contacting superiors and colleagues, with no time to tend to himself, the temporarily idle Aomo thought a bit and then searched for Bianqin Caroline.

He skimmed the meager entry for that name at a glance, trying to refine his earlier route prediction.

The escape routes he'd mentioned earlier weren't based on knowing that woman; he'd merely studied the various arrival routes of the star gates in Heaven Gate City.

Even when he first decided on revenge, he'd considered what to do if the enemy fled early, at least first working out the opponent's preferred optimal route.

Of course, even so, the opponent might not take the ordinary route.

Like subway lines, or directly using some special ability to teleport; thus even with more people, the possibility only rises to sixty percent, which isn't ideal.

As for the obvious scenario of a Pite star person calling on Ai Lei King to flee together, he didn't even consider it.

After all, the Hyper Ai Lei King is currently under concentrated fire; if it could truly accept that woman's order to rendezvous, that would just shift the firepower over—if seeking death that way, Aomo would be spared the trouble.

But looking back at the route he'd originally considered, he sighed again.

No matter how you look at it, it's still too rushed.

But there's nothing to be done about it.

He'd only prepared for less than two days—who knew everything would happen this fast? If turned into a novel, it'd need ten or twenty chapters, yet it all occurred within just two days.

The pace of life in Heaven Gate City is actually so tight? I'm starting to miss the Border Gate District.

Premature homesickness nipped in the bud, Aomo suppressed these thoughts and focused on scanning the ancient deeds of that Pite star person.

At the outset, her deeds read like that cliché lightnovel trope of 'transmigrating to medieval times as a villainess noblewoman, using advanced tech to rally natives and reign as king,' the kind of early transmigrators who end up in history books—most are of this starter type, with plagiarism rates and papers on elemental-system source energy just as high.

But her later life course was truly one of a kind——

——in the debut battle amidst the chaotic era of warring heroes, she directly collided with the first‑generation Human Union Leader of the future.

She was smashed to pieces, offering not a shred of resistance.

Seeing the tragic entry that reads like 'wildly swinging a reckless sword technique, then being knocked down by a single blow from the future Human Union Leader,' and the subsequent sporadic comebacks that were mere ripples, Aomo felt even a bit pitiful.

Each record is basically no more than thirty characters—how tenacious, yet how utterly not worth a mention.

Combined with the earlier two observations of her in the exhibition hall, Aomo's mind gradually constructed a fitting model: a wildly neurotic mindset.

Winning people over? Not really; farming development lacks talent; combat strategy utterly absent; good at nothing, yet handed first place—but the spirit is tremendously tenacious, and still quite persistent!

... I'm blown away!

Just thinking about this, Aomo was startled.

He initially wanted to question her arrogance with a question mark; now he feels the question marks have multiplied.

One who lives long, experiences much, yet makes little progress—except for being eternally proud, a big player in the "person complex"—makes him especially bewildered.

Bewildered, he wonders why he could treat such a guy as a formidable foe.

Then, amidst his bewilderment, someone tapped his shoulder; he turned to see the Executor, displeased, handing over a terminal.

"Frontier Lighthouse Spokesperson."

"You two chat."