Chapter Seventy-Four: Sacrifice

Almost at the very instant Old Lord’s words fell, an unexpected change erupted on the surveillance feed within the command vehicle. One of the special operations teams, advancing through the compound, seemed to have come under attack by some invisible force. In the blink of an eye, several team members collapsed abruptly to the ground.

Crimson blood spurted forth, so vivid that even through the screen one could almost smell the thick, iron scent of it filling the air.

Tat-tat-tat!

A barrage of chaotic gunfire rang out incessantly through the earpieces of Fu Ying and the others, while the images on the monitors grew ever more brutal. Severed limbs flew across the screen, shocking every analyst in the rear with their gruesome impact.

“Old Lord! Immediate support, now!” Fu Ying’s voice sharpened suddenly, issuing a rapid order through the comms.

But no reply came from Old Lord. At her side, an analyst cried out anxiously, “Captain Fu! High-energy psychic force detected! The anomaly levels within Shangfu City are rising rapidly!”

Fu Ying’s expression darkened instantly. She turned to glance at Director Qiu seated next to her, only to find him staring stone-faced at the monitors, his eyes devoid of any emotion.

“Captain Fu, just remember—not to harm any of the important figures living inside.”

...

...

Shangfu City Residential Compound.

At the same moment, Old Lord, having just received word of the catastrophic losses among his special operations team, dashed through the streets, his golden hair whipped into disarray by the wild winds. The proud and handsome man paid no heed to his appearance, racing at top speed toward the villa where the ambushed squad had fallen.

Even without stepping inside, the overwhelming, eerie aura radiating from the two-story villa was palpable.

“Preliminary assessment: psychic intensity, grade D.” Arrogant as he was, even Old Lord’s expression grew grave as he sensed the strangeness lurking within. The agonized screams of his team, still echoing faintly in his headset, made it clear that the anomaly inside was a highly lethal presence.

A weaponized anomaly? Or perhaps an Eyed Order anomaly walker?

“Old Lord on site. Second and third squads, move in to establish containment. I’ll enter the target building in one minute.”

He pressed his earpiece, issuing a flurry of commands, then fixed his steely gaze on the villa exuding such potent danger, striding forward step by step.

As he drew closer, all signals from the special operations team inside the villa vanished.

An entire squad, wiped out in the blink of an eye.

Unrestrained murderous intent flashed in Old Lord’s eyes. Clenching his fists, he discarded any thought of waiting for the containment teams to arrive. With grim resolve, he pushed open the villa door.

Bang!

“I will kill you!”

...

...

“The Art Exhibition Hall?” Qi Chen looked up at the architecturally striking building before him, naming his next mission target.

According to Refraction’s intelligence, another weaponized anomaly had been planted here by their enemies.

He’d also learned that, by coincidence, a major exhibition was scheduled to be held here in just two days, attracting not only ordinary citizens but also the elite of City Three.

The exhibition would feature artwork for the general public, and rumor had it that numerous high-quality pieces retrieved from the Mist would be on display—many of them precious relics from the pre-Mist era.

This, of course, explained the draw for the average citizen; who wouldn’t be curious about the world before the Mist?

“Routine inspection by the Public Security Bureau’s Central Office. Please open the door and let me in.” Qi Chen pulled out his credentials and flashed them before the security guard, growing ever more adept at using these aliases.

Yet, upon hearing the name of the Central Office, the guard showed no sign of deference. Instead, with a note of contempt, he replied, “Sorry! No unauthorized personnel allowed inside before the exhibition opens.”

Taken aback by the unexpected resistance, Qi Chen started to speak—but before he could, the guard began ushering him away.

“Move along, move along. This isn’t a place for regular security officers like you.”

The guard reached out to push Qi Chen away, only to feel a sudden, overwhelming force lift him by the collar. Glancing down, he was startled to find himself returned to his original spot.

“Get your manager here at once,” Qi Chen’s voice turned cold, displaying a firmness he seldom revealed.

The guard, still unnerved by what had just happened, mustered a retort, though his bravado faltered as he met Qi Chen’s gaze.

“Even if you’re with the Public Security Bureau, you can’t go in. The exhibition is hosted by Mistwalk Logistics Group, after all…”

Qi Chen’s brow furrowed. Though he was not native to this Mist-bound world, his time in City Three had made him well aware of Mistwalk Logistics Group’s reputation.

It was said that intercity transport here was fraught with danger, for those undertaking such missions would be constantly exposed to the corrupting influence of the Mist. Specialized equipment could offer some degree of protection, but never complete immunity.

High risk, however, meant high reward. The profits from transporting strategic materials between cities far outstripped those of ordinary commerce.

Mistwalk Logistics Group was one of the largest such firms in the entire Alliance—Qi Chen had even heard Warmheart mention that their operations extended far beyond Alliance territory.

Many of City Three’s key supplies depended on their daily shipments.

“So? You still want to go in?” The guard, emboldened by Qi Chen’s silence, waved his walkie-talkie. “I’ll call the manager over, but I’m telling you, you’re not getting in.”

Qi Chen shot him a cold glare and strode directly toward the exhibition hall’s entrance.

He had no time to wait for any manager.

With a crisp slap, he tossed his Central Office credentials into the guard’s hands, then pushed open the doors.

The guard tried to give chase, but an invisible force flattened him to the ground, a subtle pressure at his throat sending him into unconsciousness.

Qi Chen, now inside the exhibition hall, surveyed his surroundings. The pristine white walls were adorned with paintings, many of them portraits.

Yet he could not shake the sense that these portraits were watching him in secret.

One of them even seemed to… blink?

...