FI CH 4

Chapter 4: The Out-of-Control Guide (IV)

When they arrived at the destination, Bai Hua had forcefully cut a twenty-minute drive down to ten. This was thanks to the superior reflexes and motor coordination of a Sentinel.

When the target is too far away, it’s usually difficult for a Sentinel to lock onto them—they need a Guide’s assistance. But once the distance is close enough to sense the enemy, even the slightest movement can’t escape their acute senses.

The team that had first reported in was now following orders, using a mental barrier^[1] to trap Jing He. But clearly, they were struggling. This Guide was even more aggressive than expected—they were barely holding her back. It seemed highly likely she would break through and escape.

Fortunately, Kurosawa had arrived—and ten minutes earlier than expected.

Those ten minutes were enough to turn the tide of battle.

Kurosawa first scanned the area using his mental power, then said to Bai Hua, “She’s already entered a chaotic state. It’s like a berserk Sentinel—extremely dangerous.”

When a Guide enters a chaotic state, they’re practically devoid of reason. No wonder she had killed six people without hesitation.

Bai Hua asked, “So what does that mean?”

“It means we can’t wait for backup. We have to go in first. The longer we delay, the more unpredictable her actions will be.” Kurosawa calmly turned to the other two and said, “You two stay on the perimeter—just in case.”

“But that’s too dangerous…” The one who spoke was the Sentinel who had arrived with Bai Hua. The other Guide also seemed hesitant and shook their head.

Kurosawa looked to Bai Hua, his gaze silently seeking agreement.

Bai Hua simply stated the objective facts: “We’ll go in and scout. If it’s too dangerous, we’ll withdraw immediately.”

The last sentence was directed at the other two. They exchanged glances, still hesitant, but there didn’t seem to be a better plan for now. After all, if even these two couldn’t handle the situation, then bringing in more people likely wouldn’t help either. In the end, they conceded, “Alright, just be careful. If anyone else arrives, I’ll have them provide support.”

“Got it.” Kurosawa nodded, then continued advancing with Bai Hua.

Bai Hua immediately switched to using the <strong>mental communication device</strong> to^[2] speak with his partner. “How wide can her mental landscape expand?”

Kurosawa replied, “Around five hundred square meters.”

Bai Hua followed up, “Once we enter her mental landscape, can you pinpoint her exact location for me? Even within a fifty-meter range would be fine—no need for pinpoint accuracy.”

Kurosawa glanced at the man beside him and instantly understood his plan. He responded, “Yes. I’ll find a chance to cover for you. But the best approach is to strike while her guard is down. That gives us a better success rate.”

“I understand.”

“Do you remember what I mentioned earlier? You might need to play a couple with me.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

Kurosawa asked, “Do you mind if I touch you?”

Bai Hua didn’t quite get what he meant, so he answered bluntly, “Even real couples don’t go showing affection openly on the battlefield.”

Kurosawa chuckled. “I understand. I just wanted to get your consent in advance.”

“As long as it’s nothing over the top, I don’t mind.”

“I just need you to pretend you’re slightly injured—or maybe act a little weak.”

Bai Hua shot him a glance and commented flatly, “What a cliché tactic.”

Kurosawa still wore a smile. “You can’t deny—it works in the right moment.”

Just as they ventured deeper, the surrounding space suddenly shifted. In an instant, the street around them transformed into a forest. Night turned into day.

When entering or exiting a mental landscape, there is always a transitional zone at the boundary—a spatial junction. The smoother and more seamless this junction is, the harder it is to detect. It becomes difficult to distinguish whether one is still in the real world or already inside a fabricated mental illusion. And just like that, without even realizing it, one might step into a trap—heading straight toward death.

Entering a Guide’s or Sentinel’s mental landscape is extremely dangerous. That danger also comes with risks. If the mental landscape suffers serious damage, while the person’s physical body may appear intact, they might never wake up again—effectively brain-dead.

Although their official order was to bring Jing He back alive, Bai Hua and his team were given permission to eliminate her consciousness if absolutely necessary.

Bai Hua looked around and asked the person beside him, “Is it starting?”

“Yeah.”

Even though the changes in their surroundings were obvious, they couldn’t rule out the possibility that the enemy might be constructing a layered illusion.

At that moment, Kurosawa narrowed his eyes, about to give a warning—but before he could say anything, Bai Hua vanished into thin air. Simultaneously, Kurosawa sensed multiple layers of mental barriers snapping into place around him, boxing him in.

As expected—it was another one of those divide-and-conquer tactics^[3].

If his guess was right, the enemy’s strategy was to isolate and eliminate Bai Hua first. It aligned perfectly with what they had anticipated.

In a Guide’s mental world, a Sentinel holds no advantage. All a Guide needs to do is amplify sensory disturbances—like noise, intense light, or toxic gas—and it would be enough to drive a Sentinel into madness.

Kurosawa feigned helplessness. Once he sensed Jing He’s mental presence shift away, he blended his mental energy into the surrounding environment, faking the illusion that he was still trapped. Then, without a sound, he began to track her.

Bai Hua had just noticed something was off—he was in the middle of a sentence when Kurosawa suddenly disappeared, and even their special communication devices were being blocked.

He didn’t possess a Guide’s advanced perceptive abilities, so it was hard for him to determine exactly what had happened. For all he knew, the Kurosawa he’d been speaking with might not have been real at all.

Being separated from a powerful teammate didn’t make Bai Hua panic. On the contrary, he was actually more comfortable fighting solo. When paired with a partner, he would always hold back a little. Alone, he could act without restraint.

In any case, if Kurosawa had any sense of responsibility, he would come find him later. Bai Hua thought of this indifferently.

He took a moment to steady himself, then quickly entered battle mode.

At that moment, the scenery shifted again. Bai Hua suddenly felt his body lifted into the air—the ground beneath his feet vanished without warning, and he plunged straight from the forest into a body of water. Calling it just “water” might not even be accurate—this was either an open sea or a vast lake. Despite the Sentinel’s superior vision, Bai Hua couldn’t see the bottom. Thankfully, he had taken a full breath just before falling in.

Aquatic creatures swam around him, water plants swayed below, and sunlight filtered through the surface, casting shimmering ripples through the water. The entire scene was so vivid, it felt indistinguishable from a real, natural body of water.

Was this a place familiar to Jing He?

Bai Hua didn’t know. What he did know was that she was trying to drown him in her mental landscape.

He kicked and flailed his arms, swimming upward with all his strength. He could see the sunlight clearly above him, but no matter how hard he swam, it felt like he wasn’t moving at all—he remained stuck in place.

The oxygen he had inhaled would last him about ten minutes. But if things continued like this, he’d inevitably drown.

There were ways to break out of this, of course—but doing so might ruin Kurosawa’s plan. And yet…

After some thought, Bai Hua opted for the simplest strategy. At around the five-minute mark, he pretended to run out of breath and allowed himself to sink slowly, ceasing all movement.

As expected, a faint disturbance in the water crept closer.

Jing He’s attempt to drown him was, in all fairness, a clever tactic. But she had overlooked one thing: Sentinels possessed incredibly acute senses. Underwater, even the slightest ripple or movement was easier to detect.

As soon as the presence got close enough, Bai Hua made his move. He suddenly opened his eyes and surged forward at lightning speed.

It was indeed Jing He—but not her true form. What he was seeing was merely a fragment of her consciousness. He recalled what Kurosawa had said: if he could capture one of her mental avatars, Kurosawa could trace it back to her real location.

Bai Hua had always been a man of action. Realizing this was a prime opportunity, he could no longer afford to care about whether or not he was disrupting Kurosawa’s original plan. He forced his way out of the trap, bursting through the psychic barrier that had confined him with a defensive shield.

This entire aquatic space was just a small subdomain Jing He had created within her mental landscape. Damaging it slightly wouldn’t affect her overall too much.

However, the fragment of Jing He’s consciousness clearly panicked.

Sure, within her own mental world, she could control almost anything—but if the gap in power between her and the intruder was too great, she could still be overpowered.

The avatar turned to flee, but it was too late. A Sentinel in hunt mode would never let his prey escape right under his nose. Bai Hua easily subdued her and used a simple psychic chain to seal off her escape route.

After finishing everything, he suddenly noticed—Kurosawa was standing nearby.

Bai Hua had no idea how long he’d been watching.

(To be continued…)