Chapter 47: The Mad Concert Hall

A sharp spike, transformed from a metal window shutter, shot straight for Qi Chen’s face! Instinctively, his heart skipped a beat, but an even stronger surge of rage instantly overwhelmed every other emotion. One furious thought exploded in his mind:

They dared to attack him first?!

A wild, thunderous roar erupted, shaking the air as the burly Overlord materialized before Qi Chen. With a lightning-quick palm strike, he smashed the iron spike—meant to pierce through Qi Chen’s skull—into a flattened, useless lump.

Driven by fury, Qi Chen did something he’d never have contemplated on any ordinary day: without hesitation, he burst out of the ventilation duct, a snarl twisting his features as he lunged at the tall, thin man by the round table!

In his perception, the tall, thin man’s mental strength was no different from an ordinary person’s, but his status was clearly higher than that of the short, stocky man who looked like a bodyguard.

If you’re going to squeeze a persimmon, you pick the softest one!

But the other burly man by the table reacted instantly. He had long since sensed someone lurking in the vent; the coded taps of his fingers had been a warning, signaling the short, stocky man—the uncanny traveler among them—to probe and confirm.

Their open conversation afterward had also been a ploy to lower Qi Chen’s guard. They hadn’t expected there really was someone hiding, and that he’d escape an ambush under such circumstances!

Now, as Qi Chen sprang forward, the burly man gripped the round wooden table and flipped it up, blocking Qi Chen’s charge.

“Kill him, now!” The tall, thin man barked, his face tight with nervousness, calling urgently to the stocky man.

The latter’s face twisted with malice, and suddenly a pair of jet-black gloves, radiating an uncanny, sinister aura, appeared on his hands.

He was one of the uncanny travelers!

“Die!” the stocky man snarled, snatching up a steel pipe from the room. Under the influence of strange powers, the pipe morphed in an instant into a gleaming spear!

He reared back to hurl it—

But a burly, ashen figure, death incarnate, crashed into his line of sight. The stark black-and-white mask radiated an oppressive, hellish force.

Though the Overlord’s projection only reached five meters, it was more than enough to cover this room.

A sickening crack rang out. The stocky man gave a blood-curdling scream as the hand clutching the steel pipe was crushed by an immense force. Yet the cry abruptly ceased as the Overlord chopped down on his neck with perfect force, felling him with ease.

“Overlord! Block that one!” Qi Chen bellowed, summoning the Overlord even as he lunged toward the burly man, who was now dashing for the grand piano while the Overlord was occupied.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The burly man’s face was ferocious as he hammered his hands on the piano keys, sending out a series of powerful, metallic chords.

Terror prickled across Qi Chen’s scalp; his body locked rigidly in place, beyond his control. Even the Overlord froze for a moment in midair.

“Go! Tell your boss the Bureau of Uncanny Affairs is onto us! Move, now!” the burly man yelled to his partner, hands still pounding the piano.

As the music flowed, an uncanny transformation swept the entire grand concert hall—as if it had come alive.

The thin man nodded frantically, bolting for the exit without a backward glance at his unconscious bodyguard. But as he stepped over the threshold, a middle-aged man with a gentle smile blocked his way, his eyes glinting coldly above a heap of incapacitated staff.

“And where do you think you’re going, Special Agent?” the kindly man asked in a soft tone, though his eyes were sharp as blades.

He knew this thin man: one of the Special Agents from the Administrative Bureau.

“You’d better think about what you intend to confess,” the gentle man added.

The thin man’s face drained of color. He too recognized the gentle man and understood all too well what his appearance meant.

A figure clad in fiery red, the embodiment of Enthusiasm, appeared and swung a fist at the agent’s face.

But a metal spear, warped by uncanny power, blocked the blow. The stocky man, staggering upright, wore a look of grim resolve. The uncanny gloves on his hands triggered their “metal dissolve” ability; the spear transformed again, becoming a massive scythe, its blade sweeping for the gentle man’s throat!

“Go!” The burly man’s roar echoed from within. The grand piano, under his relentless playing, sent out wave after wave of psychic distortion, all targeting Qi Chen alone.

The burly man was deeply shocked. He knew very well that the psychic force of this uncanny weapon reached C-grade, yet Qi Chen, under its assault, was only physically paralyzed—his expression betrayed no sign of mental struggle.

This meant Qi Chen’s mental strength surpassed even that of the grand piano!

Impossible... Could he really be that man from the Bureau of Uncanny Affairs in City Three? The burly man could hardly believe such a simple meeting could land him face-to-face with that infamous agent, but as a seasoned fugitive, he knew now was the time to fight for his life, not to dwell on useless thoughts.

At the very least, he couldn’t let the Special Agent fall into the Bureau’s hands!

His gaze turned maniacal. With a sudden movement, he drew a knife from his belt and, without hesitation, plunged it into his own heart!

Struggling to regain control of his body, Qi Chen was stunned by the sight, a deep sense of unease welling up within him.

The black-and-white piano keys were now drenched in fresh, crimson blood. The burly man, his life ebbing away, could play no more, yet the keys continued to leap on their own—as if heralding the prelude to a furious symphony.

Thunderous footsteps trembled through the floor. The entire concert hall was filled with the relentless sound of a stampede!

It was the audience and staff, their minds twisted by the piano’s power!

“What are you doing, Mask?” At the door, the gentle man was locked in deadly combat with the stocky man.

The stocky man, resolved to die, fought with reckless abandon to pin the gentle man down. He could even manipulate the steel rebar in the walls, though only through his hands—if he could do more, he’d be even more dangerous.

Meanwhile, the onslaught of mindless audience members restricted the gentle man’s movements; he could only have Enthusiasm perform targeted strikes, unable to fight at full strength.

Qi Chen shouted with all his might, desperate to reclaim control of his body, but the piano’s power seemed to seize control just as it did with the puppet-like audience.

Even as his rage soared sky-high, he could not move a single finger.

Suddenly, a familiar, mocking voice echoed in his mind.

It was the blurred, white mask.

“Boy... You want to break free, do you?”

...