Chapter 241: Looking for Me?
“11:24 AM, the target shows no unusual activity.”
Helena stood in the shadows of the top floor of a residential building, a monocular pressed against her right eye. The window of the Sycamore Inn in the distance reflected the figure of a blonde girl flipping through pages. Her slender fingers occasionally tapped the rim of her teacup, as if calculating some invisible rhythm.
“The target is still reading and has not made contact with the outside world,” Helena whispered into the communication crystal, her voice kept extremely low. After a pause, Edgar’s hoarse response came from the other end: “Continue surveillance, do not alert them.”
In fact, Helena really wanted to ask about the explosion that had just occurred. But even without participating in the operation, she could guess that it was a critical moment for the other side, so she didn’t say anything more. After putting away the communication crystal, she picked up the monocular and resumed her watch.
But in the next second, her pupils contracted sharply. The window seat in the monocular was now empty. The book lay open on the table, and the steam from the teacup was still rising, but the blonde girl’s figure had vanished as if evaporated. She suddenly straightened up, her sweaty palm reaching for the communication crystal in her embrace.
“Target…”
“Looking for me?”
As the soft voice sounded close to her ear, a bone-chilling coldness shot up Helena’s spine. She instinctively spun around and drew her saber. The clang of the saber being unsheathed sliced through the air, but it stopped steadily less than a centimeter from the other party’s throat.
It wasn’t that Helena stopped intentionally or was restrained by someone, but a great fear that welled up from the depths of her heart told her that if she swung, she would be the first to die.
Victoria’s disguised blue eyes gleamed with a fragmented ice-like luster under the sunlight. A perfectly puzzled arc graced the corners of her lips.
“Good afternoon, Madam. Is the view really better from a high place?” Her Highness chuckled, as if greeting an acquaintance. “Or perhaps you are standing here to monitor me?”
Helena’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and cold sweat slid down her temples. She had never felt death so close – even though the other party was just standing there quietly, without even raising a finger.
The communication crystal should have transmitted a response, but there was only silence from the other side. It was likely that the signal had been blocked by some kind of force.
“Perhaps we should have a good talk…” Victoria reached out and gently stroked the saber resting against her neck. Her delicate, soft fingertips slid along the blade, but no wound appeared. “Just you and me.”
*
Shipyard.
A violent explosion tore through the iron gate that had sealed off their retreat. Not only that, but nearly half of the shipyard’s walls and ceiling were destroyed. The disciplinary squad was almost buried alive by their own magic.
“Cough, cough… Philip, after the mission, your action points will be reduced by one level. Next time, do not cast magic of this magnitude without permission!” Edgar wiped the dust from his face and said with a dark expression.
Philip stood there, his face pale, the tip of his staff still lingering with the residual magic. He opened his mouth to protest, but was pulled behind by Anres. The veteran disciplinary officer’s right arm hung unnaturally, and blood dripped from his fingertips onto the wood chips scattered on the ground.
“Kid, well done,” Anres grinned, revealing bloody teeth. “Just remember to give a heads-up next time.”
In the smoke-filled ruins, there were dismembered limbs everywhere, or people being scorched by flames. It was clear that even Edgar hadn’t expected that only a small portion of the Eternal Life Cult followers surrounding them were players. Most of them were still ordinary people, groaning in pain when injured, and having no chance to stand up again when they died.
Even so, the surviving cultists, witnessing the magnificent magic from before, were still fearlessly closing in.
Why? Weren’t they afraid of death?
Edgar was filled with confusion. He could only attribute this to the Divine Cult of Eternal Blessing having used some kind of mind control or mind-altering magic on these people. Those standing before them now were just a group of puppets without independent thought.
As the smoke slowly dissipated, Nuoyan’s massive body stiffly stood up. His left arm was severed from the elbow, and the wound on his neck, torn by the explosion’s shockwave, was healing at a visible rate.
Long before the battle began, the unfathomable Cult Leader had bestowed upon him the blessing of “immortality.” In this battle, no matter how grievous his injuries, death would never find him.
The red-haired woman emerged from the shadows, a twisted smile on her face. Edgar had personally watched her turn into coke in the scorching flames. Now, with her reappearance, it was enough to prove that she was also an otherworldly player with the ability to “revive.”
“The mad dogs of the Disciplinary Bureau indeed live up to their name,” she licked her chapped lips. “But you think that with this, you can…”
Before she could finish speaking, Edgar snapped his fingers, and the red-haired woman’s head suddenly exploded, like an overripe watermelon smashed by a heavy hammer. Her headless body swayed a few times before crashing heavily to the ground, bright flames engulfing it from the inside out.
“Too much nonsense,” Edgar retracted his finger, the hem of his trench coat fluttering without wind.
He emotionlessly watched the red-haired woman’s corpse dissipate into sparkling dust. Then he looked at the others. The fanatics he eyed hesitated for a moment, and for a while, they dared not advance.
“Anres, take Lina and Philip to the dock,” Edgar’s voice was frighteningly calm. “Leave this place to me.”
Anres hesitated for a moment, but then turned and led his team away.
Nuoyan would not stand idly by. He gritted his teeth and let out a beast-like roar. Countless flesh tendrils writhed from the wound on his broken left arm, his skin began to crack, revealing the dark red muscle tissue underneath. His entire body expanded by a full circle.
“You think killing a few weaklings can…”
Edgar didn’t let him finish. The captain’s figure suddenly disappeared from his spot. In the next second, he appeared in front of Nuoyan, his right hand in a black leather glove directly piercing the High Mountain Race’s chest. Blood spurted out, and Nuoyan looked down at the arm emerging from his back with disbelief.
“You…”
Edgar pulled out his arm, shaking off the bloodstains. Nuoyan’s massive body crashed to the ground. However, the wound did not heal as quickly as usual. His eyes gradually lost their luster, and until the moment of death, he did not understand why the blessing of “immortality” had failed.
“I said, leave this place to me.” Edgar adjusted his collar. Behind him, the Eternal Life Cult followers fell in swathes like harvested wheat, each with a small blood hole in their forehead.
As their corpses touched the ground, they slowly began to burn, with only a few turning into light spots and gradually disappearing.
Edgar pursed his lips, saying nothing, and followed his teammates in the direction of the dock.
