Wei Yuan did not try to pick up the sticky note. Instead, he first switched over to the real world to take a look. In the real world, an identical note was stuck beneath the desk, scrawled with the same hurried handwriting: "Save me!"
The handwriting on both notes was identical, yet their messages were polar opposites.
In Wei Yuan's memory, he had never seen this handwriting before. His memory was infallible, and every person had inherent writing habits. No matter how messy the script, or whether it was written with an unusual implement or even scratched out with fingernails, it would still bear a personal style that could be recognized.
In other words, Wei Yuan did not know the person who had left the note.
Yet he vaguely sensed that something was amiss. After a moment's thought, he picked up a scrap of wood that had fallen from some piece of furniture and tossed it beneath the desk. The block of wood rolled to within three feet of the desk, only to abruptly vanish.
Wei Yuan switched back to the real world to look. Beneath the desk lay a blackened object—the very piece of wood he had just thrown. However, it looked as though it had undergone countless years of erosion and weathering.
Seeing the decay on the wood, Wei Yuan was seized by a sudden wave of lingering terror. The time dilation between illusion and reality was vast beyond imagination. At this moment, his origin soul remained stuck at the perfection of the dharma idol realm; his true lifespan had not been extended, nor had he ever ingested longevity medicines.
Therefore, had he rashly walked over to the desk just now, or even sat in the chair, he might have been cast into the real world hundreds of years in the future the instant he crossed within those three feet, subsequently dying of old age.
An attack that manipulated the flow of time was the most terrifying of all, one from which even Heavenly Immortals with supreme power could hardly escape. Back when his cultivation had been low, Wei Yuan had relied on lethal techniques such as the Dusk of the Immortal Path and the Yin-Yang dual missiles to intimidate enemies in every direction, so perilous that not even immortals cared to touch them.
Clearly, this pristine, intact desk was a deadly trap—perhaps even the central lethal measure of this entire world.
The question was: for whom had this world and its traps been prepared?
Although he could not approach the desk, Wei Yuan surveyed his surroundings and quickly found a way to work around it. He walked over to an adjacent wall where, due to fierce combat, large patches of surface paneling had fallen away, exposing the cabling inside.
Relying on abilities that did not belong to a mere researcher, Wei Yuan discerned at a single glance that one of these conduits should connect to surveillance. There ought to have been a security camera positioned right here, its angle perfectly covering the desk.
Wei Yuan traced the conduit all the way along until he finally discovered a secret room tucked in a corner of the office area. Forcing the door open with raw strength, he saw rows of server racks inside, receiving input feeds from every security camera.
This server had been set up separately, physically isolated from the company's network, ensuring no surveillance footage would ever be transmitted to the public network. Drawing on his memories and technical knowledge as a researcher, Wei Yuan hauled in a terminal and connected it to the server.
Within the illusory world, the terminal powered on, and the system interface lit up. Wei Yuan spent a short while before finally gaining access. Fortunately, the server's security relied primarily on physical barriers, so cracking the password proved relatively easy.
Once inside the system, Wei Yuan found that it stored nothing but surveillance recordings. There was none of the sensitive technical data he had sought, such as information on superviruses.
A moment later, he located the footage he wanted from the vast archives of recordings and began playback on the screen.
The first clip showed the office, where Ji Liuli—nearly two and a half meters tall—stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing out at the distant snow-capped mountains. Several people entered the office, placed a briefcase on the desk, and then backed away several meters.
The leader spoke: "The item has been delivered, but... believes it is best not to approach it, much less touch it. Though your strength is virtually invincible, ... believes its danger may far exceed our expectations, so she strongly opposes your decision."
"Her opposition is overruled. Get out," Ji Liuli said coldly.
Helpless, the group exchanged glances and silently withdrew from the office area. Only after everyone had left did Ji Liuli walk over and open the briefcase.
The interior of the briefcase featured multiple compartments and safety interlocks. Wei Yuan's professional instincts told him that even if this briefcase were placed at the center of a nuclear blast, it would remain completely unscathed.
A nuclear blast?
Wei Yuan felt the concept flicker across his mind, followed by a vast blank space in his memory. All information related to that term was automatically wiped clean.
His attention, however, was immediately drawn to the contents of the briefcase.
In the exact center of the case lay a test tube, seemingly containing a wisp of light smoke. Aside from that, nothing appeared out of the ordinary.
Yet Ji Liuli was extraordinarily cautious. She carefully inspected the integrity of the test tube and the internal structure of the briefcase. Only after confirming everything was undamaged did she pick up the tube, examine it under the light for a while, place it back into its slot, and snap the lid shut.
Yet at the very instant the lid closed, Wei Yuan's hair suddenly stood on end. He sensed intuitively that something had slipped out of the briefcase and vanished without a trace.
Ji Liuli seemed completely unaware. She placed the briefcase into a concealed safe in the wall and locked it tight.
As the second clip began, more than a dozen Security Department operatives filed into the office area, lining up in a neat row and standing at rigid attention, awaiting Ji Liuli's arrival.
Ji Liuli was in the inner office on a telephone call. It was impossible to make out what she was saying, but her emotions sounded faintly agitated.
One of the operatives in the row suddenly twitched in a bizarre manner. His pupils dilated abnormally, the dark iris expanding until it swallowed almost the entire eye socket before slowly returning to normal. Soon, one operative after another exhibited the same aberration before snapping back.
Where the operatives had previously exchanged occasional glances, they now stood like statues, completely indifferent to their rivals nearby, no longer communicating in any way.
Ji Liuli stepped out from the inner office, looking deeply displeased. She simply walked past the line of operatives, randomly pointed out half of them to step forward, and dismissed the rest.
The third clip continued directly from the second. Ji Liuli reassigned duties to the remaining operatives and ordered the assembly of over a hundred elite fighters, directing these operatives to instruct them in firearms assembly, cross-country marching, and other military knowledge.
Yet just when everything seemed orderly and on track, one of the operatives suddenly produced a handgun from nowhere and fired a shot directly into Ji Liuli's back. He then frantically pulled the trigger, emptying the entire magazine. Apart from two rounds that missed, every bullet sank into her back.
Shocked, Ji Liuli whipped around, only to see dozens of eerie, bizarre monstrosities—each one still clad in an operative's uniform.
All the monsters drew their handguns at once. In an instant, the office erupted into gunfire, thick with the stench of smoke!
Chapter 1100