In the Confluence within Arantawa State, the Blood Staff Mercenary Group was amidst the ruins of a laboratory, where members were rummaging for anything of value.
This was already the fourth laboratory tied to the Classified Operations Directorate they had destroyed in recent days.
Earlier, Puppet had tracked down the Shell Laboratory and confirmed that it truly had nothing to do with what had happened; it was just that their client had ties to the Classified Operations Directorate and had set a trap.
However, following that incident, the laboratory no longer dared to associate with them openly. After all, they did not dare cross the Classified Operations Directorate directly. Instead, they could only quietly refer a few commission tasks to them to stay on good terms, while also opening up sales and supply channels for certain goods and resources.
For the Blood Staff Mercenary Group, this was more than enough. What they had seized from the laboratory that time was quite substantial, and in the Confluence, only strength and money earned respect. As long as one had money, most goods—even contraband—could be purchased.
One crew member couldn't help asking, "Boss, are we going to keep raiding like this? Going against the Classified Operations Directorate this openly—aren't they going to see us as a thorn in their side?"
"But the Classified Operations Directorate is seriously loaded."
Perhaps because nobody usually dared target the Directorate, any laboratory or post connected to them was packed with valuable materials. After raiding a few of them, they had gotten somewhat addicted.
Brother Xuan piped up, "What's there to be afraid of? With the boss leading us, we don't need to fear anyone. If anything, the Classified Operations Directorate should be afraid of us."
The bald woman nodded and said, "Boss, even if we aren't afraid of the Classified Operations Directorate, they know our movement patterns. They might be waiting for us somewhere. Shouldn't we lie low for a while and deal with the goods we have on hand in the meantime?"
Puppet said, "All right. Let's head back and rest."
Truth be told, looting was not his primary motive; it was merely secondary. His objective had always been to seek out formidable opponents to hone himself and find his balance point as quickly as possible.
At first, he had tried searching for transcendent creatures within the Confluence, but after reviewing the records, he realized that path would not work. Such creatures were exceedingly rare, and tracking them required venturing deep into the Confluence, which could take months from start to finish—a waste of time and terribly inefficient.
So he had no choice but to trouble the Classified Operations Directorate. Surely they would react after taking enough heavy blows from him, wouldn't they?
Meanwhile, the Classified Operations Directorate had indeed taken notice of them. While their subordinate posts and laboratories in the Confluence were frequently attacked, the frequency of the Blood Staff Mercenary Group's strikes was indeed unusually high.
Generally speaking, the Directorate did not run protracted operations against the same target over an extended period. They might organize an operation occasionally; if it succeeded, all the better, but if it failed, the person in charge would be demoted or transferred to another department. Then it would be left to their successor to evaluate: if the newcomer believed the target could be handled, an operation would be launched; if it seemed too troublesome, it would be shelved for the time being.
Therefore, under normal circumstances, after the Blood Staff Mercenary Group was ambushed last time, nobody would come after them for at least a few months. But when they took the initiative to attack, that was an entirely different story.
The Directorate formed a special task force to handle the matter. They discovered that the group clearly had dealings with the Shell Laboratory, but they planned to keep that line open rather than cut it immediately.
Given the capabilities of a martial artist, even if their logistics were cut off, they could still hunt in the Confluence, and other organizations would gladly do business with them. Such measures clearly could not starve the group out. Only by finding a way to monitor the team's whereabouts could the Directorate take effective action, so leaving the laboratory alone served their interests far better.
In fact, some subordinate personnel within the Classified Operations Directorate were quite reluctant to dispose of them so quickly.
Laboratories often raided and attacked one another, and some under the Directorate were bitter rivals. A few individuals had even taken the initiative to leak intelligence about their competitors to the Blood Staff Mercenary Group, which was why Puppet's last two operations had gone so smoothly.
Only when higher-ups dispatched a commissioner specifically tasked with resolving the trouble was this internal squabbling brought to an end. After studying the Blood Staff Mercenary Group, the commissioner found the situation very thorny. This "Blood Staff" seemed to rank among the very best even among ordinary martial artists; the best solution would be to have a Secret Palace martial artist step in.
Yet that was out of the question. Martial artists of that caliber possessed immense power and prestige; unless national security was at stake, subordinate agencies like theirs had no sway to mobilize them.
Furthermore, due to the situation in Kawatua, such individuals would likely be deployed there first. That left only one final option: spend a sum of money to hire international mercenaries to handle the problem.
Within the Federation, the West Coast was a sacred sanctuary for international fighters thanks to the presence of Veia State Center City. Coupled with lax governance and high degrees of freedom, the West Coast attracted numerous martial artists from across the globe. Thus, just a few days later, two martial artists from East Yono accepted the contract.
When the Blood Staff Mercenary Group returned to a temporary stronghold, a man dressed as a cleric appeared to be waiting for them, flanked by a dozen security personnel.
Seeing Blood Staff's vehicles pull up, he smiled and said, "Mr. Blood Staff, may we speak?"
Puppet stepped down from the vehicle and walked over to him. Beside him, Brother Xuan demanded, "Who the hell are you? When looking for someone, shouldn't you introduce yourself first?"
The cleric shifted his gaze to Puppet. "I am Alec, a missionary of the New Light Cult. Mr. Blood Staff, I have come to help you."
"Help us?"
The cleric looked at Puppet and said, "I imagine you must have offended the Classified Operations Directorate recently, and you are currently under severe pursuit by them."
"So what?" Brother Xuan scoffed dismissively.
"Exactly. We haven't just been wanted since yesterday, and the Directorate hasn't been able to do a damn thing to us."
The cleric said, "Mr. Blood Staff, you cannot truly believe the Classified Operations Directorate has no means of dealing with you, can you? It is merely that they have critical matters to attend to right now, so they have no time to spare for you. Once they finish their business, they need only dispatch a single Secret Palace martial artist, and you will not be able to resist."
Brother Xuan said, "What? From the sound of it, you think you can handle them?"
The cleric replied with utmost confidence, "Our New Light Cult naturally possesses such strength. However, we only help our own. There is a way: as long as Mr. Blood Staff is willing to join our New Light Cult, our order will help you resolve these troubles. We have done this more than once—you can place your full trust in us."
"Join your cult?"
"Indeed. We always welcome capable individuals into our fold." The cleric glanced at the crew members behind Blood Staff. "Everyone can join together. As long as you become devotees of the New Light Cult, the Pontiff will protect us. You will all receive legitimate identities to move about outside, and even if you are apprehended by Federation judicial authorities, we can hire the best advocates to work through legal procedures and clear your names."
For some reason, the moment Puppet heard the name "New Light Cult," an intense revulsion welled up within him. Thus, he answered bluntly, "I am not interested."
This was not the first time the missionary had faced rejection. With a knowing smile, he said, "Mr. Blood Staff, do not be deceived by outside slander. Only under the guidance of the true light can one discover truth. How about this—"
He placed a business card upon the table. "Should you ever need to find me, you may use this card."
Puppet's refusal was crystal clear: "No need. Leave."
"You could reconsider—"
Seeing the cleric still droning on, Brother Xuan drew his gun and blasted the card to shreds with a single shot, then leveled his barrel straight at the missionary. "Can't you understand plain speech? The boss told you to get lost! You hear me?"
The cleric's expression shifted slightly, a sinister malice surfacing on his face. Pulling up his clerical cowl, he said, "You will regret this."
Yet no sooner had the words left his mouth than with a loud crack, his head suddenly burst open.
The security personnel were all stunned. Then they saw Puppet flick his cane and speak without the slightest ripple of emotion in his voice: "I do not take threats."
The security guards had never imagined he would actually strike. Even if ordinary people refused, they would never choose to make an enemy of the New Light Cult. But the man they were hired to protect was dead; by reflex, they began raising their firearms to attack.
Yet the members of the Blood Staff Mercenary Group reacted far faster. The moment they saw their boss move, they opened fire without hesitation, gunning down every last one of them in a hail of gunfire.
Just after wiping them out, the crew member responsible for monitoring the radio jumped down from a truck, hurried over to the bald woman, and handed her a telegram. She glanced over it, looked up, and said, "Boss, Shell Laboratory told us to steer clear this time. They say the Classified Operations Directorate hired two martial artists to deal with us, and the word is they've already arrived in Kabes Town."
"Two martial artists?"
The mercenaries were all startled.
Kabes Town was not far from here—at most a two-hour drive.
Brother Xuan asked suspiciously, "Is the intel reliable?" Truth be told, after that previous incident, they did not completely trust the laboratory.
The bald woman said, "The old man sent it himself. Said he's returning the favor he owed the boss."
Hearing this, Brother Xuan turned at once. "Boss, do we steer clear?"
Puppet said, "No need. I'll go find them."
Ordinarily, anyone hearing such news would cautiously steer clear, but his objective was different. He was specifically looking to rely on formidable opponents to find his balance point, so their arrival matched his desires perfectly.
"All right, if that's what the boss says, we follow the boss."
The crew members trusted him unconditionally. After checking their weapons and gear and grabbing a quick bite to eat, they got back into their vehicles and drove toward Kabes Town.
In under two hours, the vehicles arrived near the outskirts of the town. Puppet stepped down, slipped on a black trench coat, and said, "Wait for me here."
"Boss, catch."
Brother Xuan tossed over a black fedora.
Puppet reached out, caught it, and put it on. Beneath his austere visage lay a pair of unruffled eyes. Gripping his blood-red cane, he walked at a measured pace into the town.
Chapter 1266