Their Intent Suits His Need

Acting on their intelligence, the Blood Staff Mercenary Group located the aberrant plant's habitat on only their second day of searching. The bald woman surveyed the surroundings. It closely matched the photograph displayed on the light screen. The clues Pading had provided were accurate—suspiciously accurate, in fact. Moreover... She looked left and right. Although this terrain lay deep within the Confluence, it was actually not far from several newly blazed trails. Something was amiss. Recalling Xiao Zhuang's warning, she quietly raised her guard and cautioned, "Boss, the water runs deep ahead. We'd better watch our step." Puppet did not reply. With a quick hand gesture, he grabbed his cane and leapt down from the vehicle. The other members immediately fanned out, using the surrounding trees to set up simple traps and field fortifications, while others released several pre-purchased combat organisms to scout the area. After completing several major commissions in succession, not only had their equipment been completely refreshed, but even the tools they carried were a cut above what they had used before. Most of the time, they functioned as Puppet's logistical support and intelligence-gathering team, but that did not mean they lacked fighting strength. Having fought alongside Puppet through countless engagements, they were seasoned veterans; any mercenary team without a martial artist was hardly a match for them. Once Puppet entered the woods alone, he picked up his pace and broke into a dead sprint. Following the trail indicated by the clues for more than ten minutes, he came to a sudden halt. Ahead, standing straight and stiff, was the aberrant plant. Though he did not understand the growing conditions required by such flora, his instincts told him it was not native to this spot. It looked as though it had been transplanted. At that moment, he noticed numerous floating spheres resembling algae balls drifting nearby, appearing thoroughly harmless. Yet he clearly saw that whenever a tiny flying creature passed by, one of the spheres would roll through empty air, engulfing the creature and causing it to vanish in an instant, swelling imperceptibly in size. It was originally green, but once sated, it turned blood-red and settled back onto the plant, gradually infusing its crimson nourishment into the main stalk before trembling, detaching, and drifting aloft once more. These things appeared capable of collective action, forming a protective perimeter around the plant. But there was more to the scene. Looking past the plant toward the far side, he spotted an uncanny creature with pointed ears, a skull-like face, and a frame packed with dense muscle. Its skin was deathly pale and utterly hairless, but knotted sinews bulged across its body, and its eyes gleamed with wild, dangerous malice. It seemed to have been fixated on the aberrant plant, but the moment Puppet arrived, its vicious glare snapped straight onto him. This was plainly the overlimit creature described in the earlier intelligence report. Puppet understood at once. What had seemed like two distinct commissions were actually two trails leading to the exact same spot. Whichever one he had chosen, he would have ended up facing this beast in the end. This was indeed an ambush meticulously arranged for them. He did not yet know whether Shell Laboratory was involved, but he now saw why the other side had felt so confident. Standing before this strange overlimit creature, even with a considerable distance between them, waves of tingling numbness were already pulsing through his mutated tissue. A martial artist who had only recently stepped into the Fourth Limit would likely struggle to display their true strength here. His mutated tissue was different. At the first sign of an abnormality, it adapted instantly, suffering virtually no adverse effect. If anything, the creature's presence stoked his battle lust even higher. He needed further challenges and stimulation to find the point of dynamic equilibrium between his spirit and physical form; something like this was precisely what he required. He had avoided this commission at first only because he had wanted to prepare more thoroughly. Now that he had encountered it anyway... He lifted the cane in his hand and walked expressionlessly toward the creature. Sensing his provocation, the beast appeared instantly enraged. Leaping sideways, it charged straight at him, its twin motions so blisteringly fast they were nearly a blur. Yet with a flick of Puppet's wrist, the cane cracked against its skull a beat ahead of time. Amidst a burst of spiritual fire, the creature went hurtling backward, snapping several massive trees in a row. But after shaking its head a few times, it got right back to its feet, appearing completely unharmed. Roaring furiously at him, it charged head-on once more. Puppet had pulled his punches on the previous strike; seeing this, he prepared to put more force into the blow. Yet as he channeled his mutated tissue, he sensed an incongruity between his spirit and flesh, causing his movement to hesitate ever so slightly. With a heavy bang, the creature's massive palms batted him away. Puppet was hurled over a hundred meters back, violently plowing a torn swath through the woods. Puppet rose to his feet without a scratch, the rippling spiritual fire covering his body having repelled all external harm. Had he unleashed his strength recklessly just now, overwhelming his opponent would have been child's play. After all, he was distinct from ordinary martial artists; the tenacity and coverage of his mutated tissue vastly surpassed peers at the same tier in the conventional sense. Yet seeking that equilibrium in the midst of battle was far from easy. Thus, his performance resembled the ups and downs of a roller coaster: while groping for balance, he might appear sluggish, but the instant he locked onto it, he could release formidable explosive power. Still, this served as an even finer whetstone. So long as the beast could not breach the defense of his spiritual fire, he would suffer no real injury and could battle on indefinitely. Meanwhile, the squad from the Covert Operations Directorate was waiting on the perimeter. They harbored no doubts regarding the outcome. Both the aberrant plant and the overlimit creature had been meticulously selected and intentionally released by their superiors. In combination, the two organisms were enough to prevent an ordinary martial artist from demonstrating their normal strength. The corpse of a martial artist was also exceptionally valuable. Dragging it back would somewhat offset their prior losses. Furthermore, they felt that for this Bloodstaff to cultivate to such heights on his own was no small feat; such natural talent made him prime research material. As they waited, several men lit cigarettes. These were designed to counter activation while providing an invigorating, stimulating effect—a new product from a lab beneath the Directorate. Although they carried hallucinogenic side effects and shortened one's lifespan with excessive use, they were wildly popular among mercenaries. More than two hours later, the ruckus that had been echoing in the distance began to die down. One operative muttered, "Hm? Looks like it's over?" The others straightened up as well, peering into the depths of the forest. A moment later, however, their expressions hardened into vigilance. The tall grass parted, and Puppet walked out holding a deep red cane. In his other hand dangled the mangled, crushed head of the overlimit creature. "Bloodstaff?!" The faces of the Directorate operatives twisted in shock. Yet before they could even turn to flee, their heads seemed to burst open in midair at the very same instant, and their headless corpses collapsed to the ground. Puppet materialized behind them. After inspecting the surroundings, he scavenged a few items and departed. Back on the outer perimeter, the members of the Blood Staff Mercenary Group were still diligently waiting. Only this time, Puppet had been gone on his own longer than ever before. One team member asked with slight concern, "Nothing went wrong with the boss, right?" "When has the boss ever run into trouble?" Brother Xuan chuckled. "Even if someone laid a trap, do they even know our boss? The boss isn't normal. If they measure him by ordinary standards, they're the ones who'll eat dirt. Just wait and see." The members agreed with every fiber of their beings. Just then, the bald woman noticed movement in the distance. After looking closely, she said, "The boss is back." The crew looked over and saw Puppet walking out carrying the creature's head. The bald woman and Brother Xuan were stunned. Wasn't this the escaped overlimit creature mentioned earlier? Exchanging a glance, they immediately caught on and stepped forward to greet him. "You all right, Boss?" Puppet shook his head. "I'm fine." He boarded the vehicle and said, "Head back. Find that liaison." *** Inside the liaison's small camp, within an exquisitely stylish office, Pading was sipping black tea. He was comfortably awaiting the outcome. Could a newly minted martial artist survive once targeted by the Covert Operations Directorate? As an accomplice who had lent a hand in this affair, the subsequent rewards went without saying. He picked up a newspaper from the table, intending to browse the morning news he hadn't had time for, when—BOOM! The entire door shattered into countless splinters. A violent shockwave rushed in, slamming him hard against the back wall. Crashing down to the floor, he endured the agony racking his body and scrambled to his feet. Looking up in horror, he saw Puppet standing in the ruined doorway with a blood-stained cane. Behind him, the camp's fences and perimeter barrier walls had been torn open in a clean, straight breach, and shattered corpses littered the path. Paling in terror at the sight of Puppet's emotionless eyes, Pading scrambled forward on hands and knees, grabbed a lever, and pulled hard. A security shutter began descending from above, but halfway down—BOOM! The blast wall, engineered to withstand small-caliber artillery, blew apart into countless fragments. Pading shielded his face just in time. Though high-strength defensive implants were embedded in his arms and body, the flying shrapnel carrying immense kinetic energy still shredded him into a mangled mess, leaving him lying there on the brink of death. Footsteps approached, and Puppet's figure entered his vision. Pading rasped, "L-Listen to me... Don-Don't kill me... I can tell you who... who did this..." Before he could finish, he felt himself hoisted into the air and placed onto an upright swivel chair. A hand rested gently upon his head. Five fingers clenched, and with a crisp crack, his voice ceased abruptly. Puppet turned and walked away. Behind him on the swivel chair, the headless body spun slowly as blood spurted from the neck. Stepping outside, his crew members, having dispatched the other security personnel, walked up to him. Brother Xuan said, "Boss, all taken care of. Where do we head next?" "Look up the nearest public outpost of the Covert Operations Directorate." Puppet said, "We're going there."