Whether this attempt would succeed, Chen Chuan had no way of knowing.
However, these seeds drew power from above the Layered Heavens to sustain themselves. If any of those pulling forces disappeared, it meant that particular seed had failed; if it persisted, that meant it still existed out there.
If all of them failed, he would try once more, though judging from the warning on the jade plaque, there would be little hope left by a third attempt.
Truth be told, this relied somewhat on luck. Once scattered, he could at most determine their locations through his purple qi, completely unable to control them himself. And in a place like the Federation, it was hard to say how many could survive at the start.
Yet in precisely such a place, amid a more complex environment, it felt even more likely they could be truly tempered.
The content further along on the jade plaque remained temporarily out of reach, but subsequent cultivation required external cultivation resources anyway, so not being able to read it for now was of little consequence.
He could still sustain his self-advancement for a month or two, during which doing without medicine posed no issue. Within ten days at most, the cultivation medicines sent from Great Shun should arrive, which, by optimistic estimates, would maintain his progress for another month or so.
In other words, he had less than three months to find more cultivation supplies. Thus, as soon as that shipment arrived, the journey to Kawatua had to be placed on the agenda.
He might encounter powerful opponents this time, which would be the perfect chance to see the caliber of martial artists on Federation soil.
***
In an underground space in Center City, at the Classified Operations Directorate's Intelligence Planning Office, various biomaterial equipment and instruments lined the perimeter. Eyeballs embedded in the living tissue walls darted left and right, while occasional pulses of shimmering light flowed through the connected vessels overhead, converging into the resonance nests deep within.
Inside sat resonists equipped with deep implants, monitoring and receiving intelligence from critical sectors.
Over the past two days, the directorate had focused primarily on the Great Shun delegation, meticulously logging and analyzing the movements and public conversations of every individual on the team, even scrutinizing their time spent entering and leaving restrooms.
Nathaniel, the branch director, sat grimly behind his desk watching video footage of Xie Xinmin meeting with various figures. His hawklike implant eyes swept back and forth across the screen, reviewing every spoken word and facial expression to ensure no detail was missed.
As the head of the delegation, Xie Xinmin was the primary figure of interest. Not only Xie himself, but anyone he contacted would require heightened surveillance afterward, and every place he visited had to be systematically screened and analyzed.
Over the past day and a half, Xie Xinmin's conduct had been entirely normal; his meetings were solely with Great Shun corporate executives and civic representatives. Yet Nathaniel knew this was merely surface-level. Xie Xinmin had surely come with specific missions, and those missions had to be uncovered.
Just then, a subordinate stepped forward, saluted him, and placed a report on the desk.
"Sir, here is the report on the rest of the delegation. Over the past two days, aside from two Great Shun martial artists visiting a corporation upon invitation, Skarson of the International Investigation Delegation went to see the Chen you instructed us to monitor.
"Additionally, I must report that Mr. Black Catfish lost contact with us yesterday morning. We sent agents to his operational site, but nothing remained. His current whereabouts are unknown. We have yet to determine whether this was the work of the Strategic Affairs Department or Great Shun's General Affairs Bureau."
Nathaniel frowned, his expression darkening. This was unexpected. Black Catfish was always cautious in his actions and rarely made mistakes; Nathaniel had specifically requested him from headquarters for this mission.
Furthermore, the man was a martial artist. Such a loss was something even headquarters would likely find hard to stomach.
Yet the circumstances were strange. To begin with, while the Strategic Affairs Department—or the East Coast Party—possessed the capability, they did not act without purpose, and killing Black Catfish offered no visible benefit. It was only possible that this was connected to those Great Shun martial artists.
However, even if the Great Shun martial artists discovered they were being watched, under normal circumstances they would not launch a proactive attack, as there was no necessity. Unless someone had taken a specific bound oath—yet anyone ultimately selected for the delegation should have been vetted to weed out such extremists.
Something unforeseen must have transpired.
At this moment, another subordinate approached and saluted. "Sir, we have uncovered a lead." When Nathaniel glanced over, the subordinate spoke briskly: "Mr. Black Catfish frequently browsed the 'Hakekeshu' platform, and within forty-eight hours before his disappearance, he had contact with it.
"We suspect he took on a bounty contract from the platform. We requested leads from them, but they refused. At the same time, we discovered another piece of information." He handed over a report. "On the Hakekeshu platform, there are bounty postings targeting the four Great Shun martial artists."
Nathaniel took the report and read with an impassive face. Only when he saw that Chen Chuan's bounty was merely three times that of the other martial artists did a cold sneer touch his lips. He considered it for a moment, then turned his hawklike eyes toward the second subordinate.
"Well done. You will take charge of surveillance outside the city. I'll double your manpower. I want every move of theirs recorded."
An excited look crossed the subordinate's face. Staring straight ahead, he saluted. "Yes, sir!"
The other subordinate remained silent. Once his colleague departed, he asked in a low voice, "Sir, regarding Mr. Black Catfish, shall we continue—"
Nathaniel fell silent for a moment before saying, "Archive it for now."
"Understood!"
Once the man left, Nathaniel rose and walked into the adjoining secret chamber. Picking up a telephone there, he dialed a complex number.
When the other end connected, he said coldly, "I suspect the martial artists of the Great Shun delegation possess strong aggressive tendencies. We must prevent unforeseen accidents and safeguard the interests of the West Coast. I request headquarters deploy 'Iron Raven.'"
***
On the traffic-filled streets of Center City in Serranocha State, a dozen First Folk in Great Shun attire walked along. Awan cautiously followed his uncle, Tahu. He looked up at the skyscrapers before him, his heart filled with both awe and estrangement. The flashing neon lights made him deeply uneasy, and the two-wheeled motor vehicles that roared past from time to time—along with the people atop them letting out excited, bizarre whoops—made him almost unable to resist reaching for the bow behind his back.
Not just him; even the prime-age First Folk who had never witnessed such a scene felt bewildered and even frightened when seeing those passing "metal monsters."
Ever since Takoda went missing, large numbers of Blood Hunt Cavalry and mercenary armed teams had appeared near their tribe to carry out hunting operations. But at that time, Akhtawa appeared, helping the tribe's warriors fight off the enemies.
Before departing, he had advised them that a Great Shun delegation was soon arriving in the Federation, with their first stop right here in Serranocha State, where they could seek help.
In fact, they were not the only ones. Akhtawa had visited more than twenty tribes he could track down on his own, urging them to come meet the delegation. Thus, as early as last month, most of these tribes had dispatched warriors on the journey here.
Over the years, Great Shun had always provided support to some of the larger tribes, especially the clansmen gathered at the ancestral land of Kawatua, who received year-round aid. But scattered tribes were left out of consideration. In truth, such tribes might receive aid today only to perish tomorrow, so no one bothered expending extra effort on them.
Yet they knew that with their own strength, it was impossible to resist the Federation; they likely could not even handle a slightly larger hunting band. Therefore, they had to seize this opportunity.
They had been very careful with the people they sent out. Fortunately, the pressure on them had eased somewhat recently—supposedly because many hunting bands had rushed off to the ancestral land. Even so, barely a dozen of them had actually made it here.
They had gathered together and applied makeup deliberately to make themselves resemble Great Shun citizens.
Yet they did not realize how out of place they looked among the Great Shun people around them. Their walking posture, vigilant gaze, and weather-beaten skin looked nothing like Great Shun citizens. They thought they had disguised themselves well, but in reality, stepping onto the street drew curious glances right away.
Fortunately, because the delegation was scheduled to meet with an elder from Kawatua today, quite a few First Folk had arrived, so they did not stand out excessively.
When the group reached the plaza outside the Great Shun Foreign Affairs Consulate, the security personnel's field scan revealed they possessed no implants, were merely ordinary fighters, and carried no firearms, so after a few glances, security paid them no further mind.
The group had originally assumed that once they arrived here, they would be able to see senior Great Shun officials. But after arriving on the scene, they discovered the area was under tight protection. Without official status, it was impossible to meet anyone.
Just as they were in a bind, they suddenly saw a mounted procession approaching. It was a contingent dressed in traditional First Folk attire, all riding horses with glossy coats. Every rider was tall, brawny, and imposing, draped in gorgeous gradient cloaks and adorned with bone carvings and crystal ornaments.
Leading at the front was a First Folk elder in his fifties, wearing First Folk feather ornaments and an antler crown upon his head, dressed in a traditional copper-inlaid fringed robe, and holding a snakewood scepter in his hand.
The First Folk present rarely saw such traditional and resplendent attire anymore, and could not help letting out soft murmurs of wonder.
A one-eyed elder among them peered ahead and could not help saying, "Isn't that Elder Grey Falcon?"
He said excitedly, "When I was young, I saw him at a Council of All Spirits in the ancestral land. I even drank wine with him and exchanged greetings!" With that, he called out toward the First Folk elder from amid the crowd.
Hearing the voice, Elder Grey Falcon glanced back at them, furrowed his brow, and paid no heed, riding his horse straight past them.
Everyone exchanged glances. Someone asked hesitantly, "Did he not hear?"
The one-eyed elder forced a smile, his expression strained. "Perhaps it's just inconvenient for him to speak with us right now."
Elder Grey Falcon arrived before the consulate, where a senior official came out to welcome him, escorting him inside under the watchful eyes of the crowd behind.
Chapter 1071