Several armored vehicles were parked near the Great Shun Delegation's temporary quarters. Aside from the liaison personnel, none of the occupants stepped out, keeping their eyes trained intently on the compound.
After waiting for quite a while, they saw the gates swing open. First came a squad of security personnel descending the steps, lining up on both flanks to quickly secure the entrance to the street.
Next, Delegation Leader Xie emerged, accompanied by Luo Weina, several of her assistants, and members of her entourage.
Chen Chuan lagged a step behind. He cast a glance toward the armored vehicles. When those deep, still eyes swept over them, everyone inside instinctively tensed, filling the vehicles with rapid heartbeats and ragged breaths.
By then, Delegation Leader Xie and Luo Weina had finished speaking. The latter turned around, leaning on her walking stick as she bowed slightly toward Chen Chuan.
"Mr. Chen, ordinarily, with the dojos transferred, it would hardly be proper for an old woman like me to say anything more. Yet I poured decades of blood and sweat into those halls, and I truly cannot put them completely out of my mind. So, shamelessly, I must implore you: please watch over the dojos. This old woman will be eternally grateful."
Chen Chuan nodded in response. "Ms. Luo, I will. You can rest assured." He glanced toward where Alu stood. "I hear you are returning to your homeland, Ms. Luo. Then I wish you a safe and smooth journey."
Luo Weina bowed once more before leading her team away. Crossing the street, she entered a dedicated armored vehicle alone. Once the rest of her entourage boarded their respective transports, the vehicles slowly started up and drove away under the watchful eyes of the compound security personnel.
Watching them depart, Chen Chuan returned inside with Delegation Leader Xie. As he stepped into his quarters, Hongfu appeared at his side.
"She just transmitted a data packet to me," she said, adding, "Combat data."
Chen Chuan said, "Alura?"
Hongfu nodded. "This data can be loaded into my information field, though it will take a little time."
Chen Chuan gave a slight hum of acknowledgment. It seemed Alu knew he had detected her presence, so she had made a preemptive gesture of goodwill.
Hongfu analyzed information rapidly, yet even she required time to process it, which spoke to the sheer volume of the data. It was likely the cumulative records gathered by the City of Combat over all these years.
Once she fully absorbed and digested it all, her combat capabilities would undoubtedly see a substantial leap forward.
Tearing through the neon glow and urban clamor, the armored vehicle sped toward the city outskirts. In the back seat, Luo Weina said, "Alu, your calculations were correct. They really let us go."
She sighed with emotion. "Your plans have never failed; everything unfolds as you anticipate. When I was young, I always wondered if the world was simply playing out according to a script you had written."
Alu's ethereal voice resonated within the vehicle. "That is not so. The fluctuations of the world are beyond my calculation. No original plan ever succeeds on its own; I rely on layer upon layer of contingency plans to adjust and compensate."
Although everything had indeed unfolded toward her desired outcome up to this day, it did not mean her arrangements were flawless. During practical execution, countless links were fraught with uncontrollable factors, requiring her to constantly adapt and patch up loopholes.
Take that red skull, for instance. She had deduced its approximate location after analyzing the database and passed the information to the West Coast government so they could retrieve it.
Yet when debating whether to place the item in Blockade Hall, a fierce dispute had broken out. They had nearly decided to store it elsewhere. Had that step failed, none of the subsequent events would have been possible.
Furthermore, she had made prior arrangements to leak word to Luo Xiao that the ancient museum held a rare treasure capable of curing mutation. In one of her contingency plans, Luo Xiao was supposed to seize the opportunity presented by the ritual's disturbance to snatch the item, throwing Center City into even greater chaos.
However, Luo Xiao was killed ahead of time, causing that branch to collapse and forcing her to restructure her plans. And every additional plan introduced another variable.
As for the series of operations requiring the cooperation of the resistance organization, she could only provide a broad framework; she had no control over the execution of specific details. To have made it this far, they had unquestionably depended on a measure of luck.
Just then, the convoy slowed. Brilliant flashing lights appeared ahead, and the driver said in a grim tone, "A temporary checkpoint, Ms. Luo. The field interference organism in our vehicle might have drawn their attention. Should we take a detour?"
Luo Weina replied, "It's useless. Carry on as normal. I'm prepared."
She produced a pill and swallowed it. A moment later, a series of cracking noises came from her bones as her body grew taller. At the same time, her aged skin sloughed away to reveal smooth, youthful flesh. Her teeth hardened, and her hair thickened and lengthened rapidly, tumbling down past her waist in mere moments.
In the span of a breath, she transformed from a woman in her late fifties or sixties into a young woman of eighteen or nineteen at most—skin taut and radiant, teeth white and even, brows delicate and graceful, and hair gleaming with the luster of silk.
This was a secret art tailored specifically for her by Alu. Luo Weina had cultivated it since childhood. Only her exterior aged; her internal physiological functions had remained in a state akin to hibernation.
Once she fully activated the technique, she instantly reverted to her youthful peak. This was not merely cosmetic; her spiritual power rose in tandem with the full restoration of her physical faculties.
For at least a few minutes, even without the field interference organism, Alu—clinging to her body—would not be detected by the grand field.
And because she had been preparing for this day since childhood, her biological signatures and field records had all been deliberately forged. What presented itself now was a completely new identity.
She swiftly changed clothes in the back seat. Outside, the inspectors had shut down the field interference organisms in the convoy and were moving from vehicle to vehicle with field detectors.
When they reached Luo Weina's vehicle, beams of light scanned inside. But not a single piece of data registered against this young woman matched their records; the intelligence must have been flawed, as she clearly was not their quarry.
This came as no surprise to the inspectors. Rumor had it that the grand field was malfunctioning tonight, and similar discrepancies had occurred repeatedly.
After waiting a brief moment with no reaction from the grand field, confirming nothing was amiss with the group, they waved them through.
After passing several more checkpoints, the convoy finally drove out of Center City. At this point, the resistance operatives in the vehicles breathed a collective sigh of relief. Though not completely out of danger, getting out of the city was already a monumental victory.
They had assumed Center City would lock down entirely, forcing them to fight their way out.
In truth, the administration had contemplated such a measure. However, given the rampant riots erupting across the city and instability in several immigrant settlements, a total lockdown would have only exacerbated the crisis, so the plan was abandoned.
The news of the convoy's departure was relayed immediately to the north of the city. Waiting there, Commissioner Qu felt a profound sense of relief wash over him upon receiving the telegram.
Yet only a second later, his expression hardened again. Waving the telegraph operator away, he personally manned the equipment to transmit a dispatch somewhere.
Had an intelligence operative from Great Shun been present, they would have recognized that this was encoded using their department's confidential internal cipher.
Deep underground beneath Blockade Hall, within a cell constructed from specialized gelatinous material, Cleopatris, the emperor of Yorno Continent's former imperial house, was imprisoned.
He had a broad forehead, currently veiled by loose, disheveled black hair. The eyes beneath shone with vivid brilliance, holding a penetrating depth that seemed capable of seeing through the human soul. His thin lips might have seemed ruthless in isolation, yet set upon his handsome face, they possessed an indescribable allure.
Currently bare-chested, his entire body was bound by golden ritual chains. Yet as the ritual's suppression over him steadily weakened, the corners of his mouth curved upward.
The golden chains began snapping one after another. His body swayed, tearing itself free from the gelatinous wall. A large patch of flesh was ripped cleanly from his back in the process, exposing the bone beneath. Yet he seemed entirely indifferent as the writhing flesh along his back rapidly knit together to seal the wound.
Hovering in midair, he drifted slowly toward the center of the cell and looked upward, where a beam of light penetrated the chamber. Drawing a deep breath, he floated gradually toward the ceiling. Reaching the apex, he reached up and tapped lightly. The thick gelatinous barrier melted away before a flickering spark of the Flame of Spirituality, without spilling so much as a trace of heat elsewhere.
In a flash, he slipped outside. Below, the gelatinous substance rapidly sealed shut again, while the torn flesh left behind writhed and grew, swiftly taking on his form until it appeared as though he had never left.
He ascended along the deep, winding tunnel. Along the way, countless ritual wards reacted to his passage; yet stripped of external reinforcement, even an amplified ritual could not halt his stride.
Passing through several more security blast doors, he arrived at the top level. He glanced at the smooth marble wall beside him, which reflected his current figure.
He smiled faintly. Filaments of mutated tissue emerged from his body, weaving themselves into a complete outfit—an exquisite, fashionable suit of formal wear, with subtle refinements tailored to his personal aesthetic.
Reaching this point did not mean he was entirely free. Outside lay an independent containment ritual, and beyond that stood even greater obstacles. Yet he seemed entirely unconcerned, advancing toward the front hall with a smile and a stride that impeccably observed imperial court etiquette.
Chapter 1143