?Chapter 745:


    My heart skipped a beat upon hearing this.


    Just as my resolve wavered, amotion broke out in the distance. It seemed the guards had discovered my escape.


    Jett nced at me and said, “We’re out of time. We have to get out of here now.”


    “Alright, I’ll go with you,” I finally said.


    Evie grabbed my hand and whispered, “My mission isplete, Makenna. I need to leave, or I’ll be discovered. Be careful.”


    “You be careful too,” I said to Evie.


    We then proceeded to go in different directions. Soon, Jett and I came to a secluded corner where a rickety cart was parked.


    I eyed the cart suspiciously and asked, “What is this?”


    Jett turned to me with a smirk on his face and said, “This is your only way out. It’s a manure cart used for transporting waste out of the pce.”


    Makenna’s POV:


    A manure cart? Of all things!


    The image struck me like a lightning bolt—Jett’s daring escape from the pce thest time, hidden beneath the partition of a manure cart, came rushing back to my mind.


    And now, here I was, staring at another manure cart. Even without touching it, the air around it was suffused with the foul stench of waste. Oh, how the wheel of fortune turned!


    Jett’s smirk widened, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. He extended his hand in a mock invitation and quipped, “Come now, don’t be shy. I even prepared a special nose plug, just for you.”


    The thought of crawling into that malodorous abyss made my stomach churn. “Surely, there must be another way?” I asked, rooted to the spot as though my feet had grown vines.


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    Jett chuckled softly, his voiceced with amusement. “Don’t worry, the nose plug will make it so you won’t feel anything.”


    The distant mor of pursuit edged closer, my chance of escape narrowing by the second. Swallowing my pride and arge lump in my throat, I steeled myself, crouching down to wriggle into the confined, shadowy space under the cart’s partition.


    The moment I settled in, a wave of indescribable stench assaulted me, a cruel reminder of my predicament. Mercifully, Jett hadn’t been lying—the nose plug dulled the olfactory nightmare, leaving the air almost tolerable. Almost.


    The cart began its journey, creaking and wobbling as though even it despised its own contents.


    I curled into the shadows, making myself as small as possible, whispering silent prayers that we wouldn’t be discovered.


    Just as I dared to hope our n might work, the sharp ring of hurried footsteps pierced the air.


    “Stop! You there, halt! Routine inspection!” barked a gruff voice, each word a nail hammered into my fragile sense of security.


    My breath caught in my throat.


    Jett’s voice, low and smooth, cut through the tension like a de. “Good sir, this cart carries nothing but manure, bound for the fields. Surely, you don’t mean to inspect it.”


    “Silence! Open it up! Let’s have a look,” snapped another voice, sharp as broken ss.


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