Over the next few days, Lu Zhao could distinctly feel the conflict between the special investigation team and the local authorities escalating.
On the first day, someone from the investigation team had been dragged out for drinks the night before, only to be reported and arrested today for soliciting prostitutes.
On the second day, gangsters in groups of three to five began tailing them.
On the third day, a member of the investigation team received a threatening letter.
On the fourth day, while investigating a warehouse, investigators were branded as thieves and detained.
The local factions could never openly oppose the Nanhai Circuit; doing so would only get them suppressed as bandits. Instead, they resorted to underhanded sabotage in the dark and passive resistance out in the open.
At bottom, it was a stall tactic. The investigation team's enforcement mandate had a time limit, and its people were not machines.
No one could stay endlessly energetic or remain perpetually cool-headed.
Everyone made mistakes, and not everything went according to plan.
In the early hours of the morning, Kabukicho.
Signboards jutting out from building walls squeezed the sky, neon lights replacing the moon and stars, amid alcohol-reeking men and gaudily dressed women.
Two thugs squatted at a street corner, puffing smoke. In attire, they looked no different from the street gangsters around them, yet the finer details told a completely different story.
They spoke standard refined Central Plains speech, their bodies lacked the foul stench of unwashed grime mingled with tobacco tar, and not a single needle mark could be seen on their arms.
They were plainclothes operatives on night surveillance.
This duty should have fallen to the local police, but under the current circumstances, the special investigation team had no such luxury.
"Tell me, can this job actually make any progress?"
"Hard to say, but doubtful. The infighting up top is fierce."
"Didn't Team Leader Lin win over the border defense station? That's a battalion-level force, after all."
"You think this is a war? Even if Team Leader Lin mobilizes them, she has to attach them under the Special Counter-Terrorism Detachment. Unless some exceptional situation occurs, there's no chance."
"True enough."
The two went back to puffing smoke.
Just then, a gang of thugs swaggered over, neither side making eye contact. The burly man leading the pack suddenly felt the urge to relieve himself; shoving off the lackey supporting him, he stood by the roadside to take a leak.
Pissing into the wind, he soaked his own pant leg, and with a careless shake, sprayed urine right onto one of the plainclothesmen.
The plainclothesman froze, furious, but remembering his mission, he could only mutter under his breath, "Useless bastard."
The gang leader overheard, seemingly stung where it hurt most. "What did you say, you dead punk?"
The surrounding cronies crowded in aggressively. Unintimidated, the two plainclothesmen held their ground. Shoves turned to shoves, and within moments it erupted into a brawl.
Twenty against two. Both plainclothesmen were first-rank superhumans, and the pair completely overpowered the crowd.
Bang!
A gunshot rang out.
One plainclothesman took a bullet to the abdomen; the other immediately drew his sidearm and shot the gunman dead.
Amid the lingering melodies of Kabukicho, gunshots rang out like an accompaniment.
-----
On the morning of the twenty-eighth.
Lu Zhao finished the last bottle of Honghualang and began refining qi into essence.
Circulating his cultivation method, the life supplement inside him turned into a warm current flowing through his entire body, scouring his bones, muscles, and flesh.
Life-force development was like forging iron, tempering the body again and again with life supplements. There was no need for epiphany or scholarly study—only the relentless hammering of flesh and blood.
Consumption, digestion—that was life-force development.
Suddenly, Lu Zhao's breathing halted, his heartbeat fell silent, and steam visibly rose from the surface of his body.
Crack!
As if bones were snapping, every bone in his body trembled, popping and crackling like firecrackers.
After three seconds, the sounds gradually subsided.
Lu Zhao slowly opened his eyes, feeling the changes within. With a mere thought, before he even clenched a fist, the muscles of his arms swelled fully.
A moment later, his spinal muscles surged with force, once again without the need for any physical motion.
Chest muscles, abdominals, spinal muscles...
At his will alone, every muscle could tense and swell as he pleased.
"Forty points of life force!"
This time, without needing a blood analysis instrument, he knew with absolute certainty that he had reached forty points.
Lu Zhao could not conceal his delight.
He was one step closer to becoming a second-rank superhuman, and forty points of life force marked a minor metamorphosis in its own right.
At forty points, one could freely control specific muscle groups, enhancing explosive power and granting a measure of hemostatic control.
This ability to stop bleeding was paramount: it meant severe hemorrhage would rarely be fatal.
Under conditions where modern firearms vastly outmatched the defensive capabilities of most superhumans, resisting bullets was a crucial developmental focus for every superhuman—Lu Zhao, for instance, could alter a bullet's trajectory.
A significant portion of ballistic trauma was blood loss; forty points of life force could cut the mortality rate in half and allow one to retain mobility even after sustaining gunshot wounds.
In the military, forty points was already enough to guarantee promotion to field officer, and better-funded units would even grant extra allocations of life supplements.
For commanding officers, having a second-rank superhuman emerge from their unit would virtually guarantee an "Excellent" rating on their annual performance evaluation.
After all, a second-rank superhuman was already a supersoldier capable of regenerating simply by breathing.
"Once flood control ends next month, I should reach around forty-four points, and then strive for fifty by the physical examination in September."
Lu Zhao calculated the timeline.
As for whether to head to Cangwu or Chishui when the time came, that would depend on how circumstances unfolded.
Ring, ring, ring!
The handset on the desk suddenly vibrated, trilling with an urgent ringtone.
The caller was unlabeled, but he remembered the number belonged to Lin Zhiyan.
Lu Zhao answered, and a voice simmering with suppressed rage came through.
"How many men can you bring out right now?"
"At least a company."
Lu Zhao asked, "What happened?"
"My people were gunned down in the street."
Lin Zhiyan's response made Lu Zhao's eyes widen slightly. "What happened?" he confirmed.
He knew the Federation was unstable these days, but surely it hadn't descended into complete anarchy, had it?
They were imperial envoys, after all; gunning them down right in the street—was there no law left?
Lu Zhao recalled meeting Zhao De the other day. Though they were adversaries, he could tell Zhao De was a man of propriety who knew where the boundaries lay.
Otherwise, the special investigation team would have seized leverage on him long ago.
"The men I posted on surveillance in the Foreign District were ambushed last night. One was lightly wounded, and the other died after emergency treatment failed."
Over the phone, Lin Zhiyan could no longer suppress her fury. "Bring a fully armed company into the city right now—use the transit pass I gave you!"
-----
Border defense station, drill ground.
Faint morning sunlight pierced through the mountain mist. The border defense soldiers had already begun their morning drills, their formations neat and their cadence chants in unison.
Lu Zhao walked to the center of the drill ground, raised a clenched fist with elbow bent, and blew a sharp blast on his whistle.
His resonant voice echoed across the ground: "All personnel, assemble in squad line formation—fall in!"
Whoosh!
To a rush of quick footsteps, hundreds of soldiers converged from all directions.
The soldiers of the reinforced platoon were the quickest; stationed at the farthest end of the drill ground, eight hundred meters away, they were nonetheless the first to finish forming ranks.
Of the remaining companies, the Mobile Company was second, the Support Company third, and the Logistics Company last.
One could easily gauge the average life-force development of each company from their order.
The reinforced platoon ensured that every single man possessed at least eight points of life force—every one of them had the physical conditioning of a top-tier athlete.
"Dress right—dress!"
Heads snapped to the right as quick shuffle steps adjusted the intervals.
"Ready—front."
With the ranks straightened, Lu Zhao did not have them count off, for this was an emergency assembly.
Aside from the squad level, every company was missing one or two squads that were on duty or out on missions.
Lu Zhao ordered, "Reinforced Platoon, step forward! Mobile Company, First and Second Platoons, step forward!"
Sixty men from the reinforced platoon and sixty from the Mobile Company's first and second platoons—a total of one hundred and twenty men stepped forward.
"All personnel, attention! Toward Logistics, column of twos, forward—march!"
The column moved out swiftly while the remaining companies stood in place.
Lu Zhao commanded, "Everyone else, dismissed."
Chapter 63