They Hated Me in My First Life, But Now I Have the Love System

Chapter 310: Cryptic Messages

He could yell. He wanted to yell. But after what he just went through on that phone call, he understood

something very clearly, none of this was easy. Not for him. Not for them.

“...Forget it,” he muttered under his breath. “You're not the only ones who got humiliated today.”

The men almost sighed in relief.

“Alright,” Michael barked, pulling himself together, “Squad one, head to the border crossings. Stop every vehicle

that sneezes suspiciously. Squad two, airport terminals. | want eyes on every face that even remotely looks like

it’s running from something. Squad 3, train stations. Full lockdown if you have to. The rest of you, with me.

There's still a chance they're moving on foot. We'll sweep the road routes.”

“No one sleeps tonight. If they escaped on land, we chase on land. If they take the skies, we fly. If they vanish,

we sniff them out.”

“But sir,” one guard dared to ask, “how do we find them if we don’t know where they're going?”

“Figure. It. Out,” he snapped, walking toward the car. “We're professionals, not street magicians. And someone

better finda charger. My new phone's on 17%."

They all snapped into action. The weight of the royal order and the sting of failure had set them on fire. In less

than five minutes, the streets were swarming with black clad personnel pouring into cars, bikes, and alleyways.

Those who had watched the whole scene unfold from the sidelines, neighbors, shopkeepers, curious onlookers,

were left blinking, still trying to understand what kind of movie had just played out in their quiet neighborhood.

“Is it a movie shoot?” one woman asked.

“Movie huh?” her friend replied. “Which movie uses real panic like that?”

Another man shook his head. “I don’t know what happened today oh, but those kids they were chasing... | don’t

think they're just anybody.”

Whispers rippled through the crowd as the street finally began to quiet down.

After confirming he had truly shaken off his pursuers, Abuchi slowed his pace and finally stopped to catch his

breath. The alleys were quieter now, the noise of footsteps and shouts fading far behind.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart, then immediately started moving again, this time

toward their designated meeting spot. | hope the others remember the plan... he thought, eyes scanning every

street sign and corner.

He felt a pang of guilt thinking about Nnenna. I'm sorry, Sis. But | trust Ekene. He'll keep you safe. And you? You

are tougher than all of us combined. That brought a small smile to his lips, even amidst the stress.

At different parts of the city, the rest of the group were also doing the same, avoiding patrols and heading

toward the meeting spot, all with one crucial phrase ringing in their minds:

“If the wind forgets the shape of the falcon in Marka, remember that rivers can carry what wheels cannot. You'll

understand what | mean if things go wrong.”

They understood now. Something had indeed gone wrong.

And the second part of the letter was finally making sense: Rivers. Of course. If they could not travel by roads or

known routes, they had to find a waterway.

That cryptic line had sounded poetic at the time, but now it was the only clue they had left.

There had to be a river leading toward Trunns, or at least a hidden water passage that wasn’t monitored by the

royal guard.

Each of them, at their scattered locations, began asking questions carefully, subtly, blending into crowds and

approaching locals who seemed trustworthy. They had to be smart. Too many questions in the wrong place could

alert the wrong people.

How many rivers were there in Marka? Which of them connected to Trunns?

At Abuchi’s side, he found a quiet corner behind an old kiosk, crouched down, and pulled out his phone. His

fingers moved quickly over the screen, searching through maps and transport forums.

He zoomed in on every river that ran through Marka, filtering out the ones that looked too shallow or too close to

main roads. Con, there has to be something...

Meanwhile, in completely different parts of the city, Karen and John were doing the same. Karen leaned casually

against a bus stop pole, pretending to text, while her eyes flicked between her phone screen and the

surrounding area.

John, seated at a rundown café with a half drunk glass of juice in front of him, kept his head low while scrolling

through search results. Their instincts were the same, don’t call anyone yet.

What if the lines were tapped? They couldn't risk giving away each other's locations, not now. Not when they

were so close to either getting caught or getting away.

Each of them was coming to the sfrustrating conclusion: there were too many rivers.

But not all of them made sense.

Then Abuchi paused. Wait. One of the rivers on his map had just one road crossing over it, and it curved

strangely, almost like it was being avoided. His eyes narrowed. Why would a main river have no proper bridge?

Just a run down bus station. Unless...

Karen noticed the sthing from her search: a thread on a travel forum, barely active, mentioning how some

locals still use an old fishing trail near the bend of a river called River Torrent, a place not on the tourist maps.

John’s screen lit up with a similar lead. His expression tightened. Could that be it?

They were still scattered. Still vulnerable. But one thing had becclear.

There was a river that could carry what wheels could not.

And they were one step closer to it.

At Nnenna and Ekene’s side, the silence between them was filled with the sound of their breathing and the

distant city noise. Ekene couldn't help but stare, discreetly at first, then more openly, as Nnenna adjusted her

clothes, brushing off the dust from their escape.