Paul stood at the edge of the desert, his eyes fixed on the horizon, filled with anxiety.

Zuera was a place of stark contrasts—to the east, endless vineyards stretched as far as the eye could see, while to the west, where he now stood, lay a barren desert area with uneven terrain, some spots rising as high as several dozen yards above the flat ground.

The desert was home to nothing but an abandoned fertilizer factory, long shut down and left to decay. The area was desolate, with no signs of life, not even a single tree.

The note specified the meeting point as this very factory, and Felix went in alone, instructing Paul to set up an airbag here. The plan was to throw Holden from a distance, ensuring he landed safely on the cushion.

To be honest, Paul had initially thought Felix was joking. The idea of throwing someone that far seemed impossible, let alone ensuring they survived the fall. However, Felix had insisted it would work, so Paul had no choice but to trust him.

Meanwhile