Fifty miles outside the Drunken Man Pavilion.
There is a dilapidated thatched hut.
Jayceon Rose dashed toward this place, clutching his phone like his life depended on it.
He was on edge, terrified of being taken down by the golden cicada he once chased.
Also afraid that Windy Johnson might follow to silence him.
He wasn't a fool; he knew very well that Windy Johnson wouldn't spare him easily. To survive, he had to cling desperately to Julius Reed's leg.
But unfortunately, Julius Reed was still restrained.
At a time like this, Jayceon Rose had no other choice but to follow Julius Reed's instructions, with the phone in hand, and run to the thatched hut.
But this thatched hut was truly too worn out.
Just a wooden frame, with the surrounding thatch blown away by the wind, not to mention blocking wind and rain, if you squatted inside to take a dump, people could see your butt from the outside.
Jayceon Rose almost thought he was seeing things.
