Cleanup

Chen Chuan merely cast a glance at the ground, twirled his blade, and continued forward along the metal-plated catwalk beneath his feet. He took measured steps, neither rushed nor sluggish, each footfall echoing hollowly through the cavernous workshop. Near the exit, Wei Jun's faction heard those footsteps slowly drawing nearer. Terror gripped their hearts; along with knotting tension, cold sweat drenched their bodies. Panicking, one man sped up his crawl, only to slip and tumble forward. By the time he regained his senses, he realized his lower half lay two meters away from him, and screams of raw horror tore from his throat. His plight horrified the rest. Pale-faced and breathing in ragged gasps, none dared stop moving, yet every limb shook and trembled uncontrollably. Yet after they had scrambled forward on all fours for a stretch, the footsteps behind them abruptly ceased, seemingly vanishing altogether. "No sound?" "What happened? Did he lose track of us? Or did the combat mantises take care of him?" Wei Jun could not resist glancing back. But with that glance, his pupils constricted violently. Chen Chuan stood just ahead of the corridor's turn, regarding them with calm, unblinking eyes. "Fuck." Wei Jun felt a wave of despair surge through him. "Call for help! Get the guys outside in here!" one member shouted in frantic terror upon spotting Chen Chuan as well. Yet shouting was all he could do. They had indeed stationed plenty of men outside, but unfortunately, orders had been given beforehand: things might get "lively" inside the plant later, so everyone was told to keep their distance. Thus, those men remained faithfully at their posts. Even though gunfire and frantic screams echoed from inside, not a soul came over. Moreover, pressed for time and dealing with an abandoned factory, no telephone lines were connected. They had brought a radio, but in the heat of earlier moments, no one had the luxury to use it, and operating it now was out of the question. Then someone seemed to realize something and blurted, "Wait, no! That thing is blocking him! Right, it's blocking him too! He can't get through either! We can get away—we can make it out!" He yelled in excitement, clutching at it like a drowning man grasping at a straw. The people around him also noticed with sudden delight that this appeared to be true. "Right! Yeah! He can't get through either!" Jiang Wei crawled forward in silence, ignoring the chatter behind him. He understood all too well: if Chen Chuan had reached this point, it meant both combat mantises were dead. In that case, nothing remained to hold back the biological weapon Chen Chuan had brought along. In such a confined space, they stood no chance of resisting. Rather than wasting breath and energy talking, running forward offered the only slim hope of getting out alive. At that moment, he swept his blade ahead and was startled to find no resistance. Not just him—the others around him also discovered that their weapons struck nothing in front of them. The duration had expired; the spider silk had dissolved. Realizing this, the Mutual Aid Society members scrambled to their feet and stumbled toward the exit. Chen Chuan stepped forward. His pace appeared unhurried, yet in an instant he was right behind the crowd. With a flash of his blade, one man collapsed. Seeing him close the gap so swiftly, Wei Jun kicked the person in front of him straight toward Chen Chuan. Chen Chuan merely parried casually with his Xuejun Saber, the edge gliding across the man's throat. The man rolled over, clutching his neck while kicking his legs back toward the wall, then pushed himself up against it and stumbled toward the exit with his hands pressed to his spurting neck. Chen Chuan paid him no mind. Relying on his robust fighter's constitution, the man made it about a hundred paces, leaving a trail of blood as his speed steadily flagged, before finally collapsing to the ground, twitching feebly a few times before going still. One member, eyes bloodshot, let out a roar and charged Chen Chuan on his own initiative. Chen Chuan appeared at his flank in a flash, reached out, and caught him by the neck. His five fingers snapped tight with a sickening crunch. The man's body and limbs immediately went limp, his feet dragging uselessly along the floor. Chen Chuan's arm remained rock-steady. He dragged the corpse along for two paces before letting go, allowing it to drop to the floor. Witnessing this, Wei Jun's breath turned ragged. He was a qualified fighter himself, and part of him longed to step up and trade blows with Chen Chuan—dead was dead either way, so why not go down fighting? Yet his legs remained rooted to the spot, refusing to budge. Leaving aside Tan Wang, based on Chen Chuan's recent display alone, Wei Jun had not the slightest chance of victory. If there was a way to live, who the fuck would choose death? Senior Zhao's side was supposed to send experts to assist them, but even now, not a damned soul had arrived! Otherwise, things would never have degenerated to this point! It seemed there was only one option left. Reaching into his trouser pocket, he pulled out a squirming, translucent grub and swallowed it in a single gulp. This was the residue left behind by the Two-Faced Heart Monster whenever it killed someone. Once ingested, it granted the user the same effects as being possessed by the monster for a short duration. Though he might still fall into hallucinations and injure himself when attacking others, external forces would hardly be able to harm him. As long as he survived this window of time, he could live! After getting up, Jiang Wei had not bolted immediately; he hesitated for a beat. In that brief delay, someone shoved him aside and rushed to the front, reaching for the door handle. But the moment that person's hand touched it, a dark silhouette flashed past, instantly slicing him into shredded chunks. Jiang Wei stared intently at the shadow, then darted forward, arriving at the door in a flash and dodging sideways. Yet even with his quick reflexes, an arm was severed clean off. His expression never wavered. He had observed clearly earlier: that creature needed a momentary pause before accelerating again. This was the perfect chance to slip out. Losing an arm was nothing—as long as he escaped, he could retrieve it, or at worst, get an implant installed. Yet just as he turned the handle, he felt as if someone had shoved him violently from behind, pinning him flat against the door. Slowly turning his head to look down, he saw a section of a blade protruding through his abdomen, skewering him directly to the door. Even then, he refused to give up. Enduring agonizing pain, he forced himself back slightly, grasping the blade with his remaining hand and inching backward to avoid widening the wound, eventually pulling the blade free from the door. At that moment, a hand reached around from behind, seized the hilt of the blade, and ripped it back out. A chill tore through Jiang Wei's abdomen. He grunted in agony, yet did not look back. Clutching his belly, he staggered forward a few steps and reached again for the handle. But his hands were slick with blood, slipping repeatedly without catching hold. Finally, he turned, slumped against the door panel, and slid slowly down into a sitting position while clutching his abdomen. His face was deathly pale, cold sweat beading and rolling down his forehead. Looking up at Chen Chuan, he gasped weakly, "Why go this far? If you kill us, you'll die too. Let me go... I can protect you..." Chen Chuan merely looked at him in silence. Seeing Chen Chuan's reaction, Jiang Wei seemed to realize something. He stared fixedly at him. "You won't die? You... you have an unlimited defense license? You already got an unlimited defense license?! Is that it?! IS IT?!" Toward the end, his voice rose into a strained shriek. Chen Chuan did not answer. He simply turned and walked away from the corridor; only one person remained. Jiang Wei's voice grew weaker and fainter, his consciousness drifting away until his head slumped against his chest, never to stir again. Inside the main workshop hall, Wei Jun's voice carried over, punctuated by dull thuds as he smashed violently against pillars, beams, and walls. "Shen Zheng, you're not dead?! Why aren't you dead?! Why didn't you just die?! Die already!" "Stay away! Your sister isn't with me! Zhao Qian took her to Center City! Don't fucking come after me!" "Why?! Why are you so damn strong?! Talent?! I'm the one with talent!" When Chen Chuan emerged, Wei Jun was contorted in fury and madness, strangling a steel pillar with all his might. Yet oddly enough, it was Wei Jun whose breath was choking off more and more severely. Chen Chuan watched in silence. When he had briefly encountered Wei Jun earlier, he had noticed that Wei Jun seemed impervious to external damage, yet appeared trapped in an inescapable hallucination—and whenever Wei Jun attempted to attack, he ended up inflicting harm upon himself. He surmised this was connected to the urban legend and esoteric ritual they had encountered today. This must have been what Shen Zheng had suffered back then, which was why the autopsy concluded that every injury had been self-inflicted. Wei Jun's face gradually turned purple. He could no longer scream, yet as if confronted by the mortal terror of his life, his hands squeezed with desperate, unrelenting force while his eyes rolled back... Meanwhile, morning light was slowly creeping over the horizon. On the road leading toward the factory, Lu Fang, Shu Han, and others rode inside several off-road vehicles racing forward at top speed. "Faster! Step on it!" Voices repeatedly urged the drivers. The Fenxin Society members had received word earlier that Chen Chuan had secured a recommendation from the Foreign Affairs Bureau, but the Mutual Aid Society had learned of it and summoned Chen Chuan for a "talk" at the former Li'an Machinery factory. That location struck an immediate, painful nerve. Shen Zheng had died right there three years ago, his death ruled a self-inflicted incident. Now that Chen Chuan had been called there as well, was history about to repeat itself? The Fenxin Society resolved on the spot to head there together. Although they possessed little martial prowess—their strength having dwindled long ago after many core members departed—those who remained to this day all carried a stubborn conviction in their chests. Shu Han said to Lu Fang, "Senior Lu, you've already graduated. You really didn't need to come." Lu Fang shook his head and said resolutely, "When Senior Shen faced his ordeal back then, I wasn't there. I hated myself—why couldn't it have been me who died instead of him? I think that if he were still here, everything today might be entirely different." He drew a breath and added, "At least today, I can make amends." "Senior Lu is right. Three years ago, when Senior Shen died, we couldn't do a thing. But we cannot just stand by now. Junior Chen obtained the recommendation, meaning he can test for the unlimited defense license. He is our only hope after Senior Shen. We can't give up! Even if Senior Shen is gone, someone can carry on this path!" The members of the Fenxin Society nodded to one another. Some had already graduated, yet they had still come. Though Chen Chuan had declined their invitation, they had kept an eye on him all along. Later, they discovered that his combat prowess had not fallen behind despite choosing the Zhouyuan Jin technique; instead, he had accomplished feat after feat that ordinary students could never achieve. This proved that the path Chen Chuan chose was the right one. After driving a bit farther, the vehicles finally arrived near the former factory grounds. "That's it!" Someone pointed at the building emerging ahead. The expressions of the Fenxin Society students were deeply conflicted, filled with both sorrow and burning fury. Three years ago, they had watched right here as Shen Zheng's corpse was carried out. And now, when another candidate had finally appeared with so much difficulty, these people were preparing to pull the same trick again. They would never allow it! However, upon reaching the intersection, they found roadblocks erected along the perimeter, guarded by patrolling security personnel. Unable to drive straight in, they stepped out of their vehicles one after another. Yet the moment they moved forward, the stationed security guards stopped them in their tracks, informing them that this was private property and unauthorized personnel were forbidden from approaching. The Wei family butler looked at the group. Over an hour had passed and the doors had not opened yet. Considering the young master and the others might not have had their fill of fun, the people outside had to be kept at bay. Still, dawn was approaching; it was probably time for them to wrap things up. Just moments ago, he had received a message via radio that people were already heading this way. Lu Fang and his companions were growing frantic. They knew every second wasted increased the danger, so they decided to force their way through. These security guards carried no firearms; unarmed force alone could never hold them back. Just as they prepared to act, the ground suddenly vibrated. An armored patrol convoy rolled down the road toward them. "It's the constabulary! The constabulary's vehicles!" Fully armed constables disembarked in disciplined ranks, lining up on either side. When the escort car in the middle came to a stop, Vice Director Guan Yuming stepped out and stood tall. The butler was startled; he had never expected Guan Yuming to show up here. But before he could step forward, another commotion arose. He turned toward the other direction, where another motorcade of black armored vehicles approached and pulled up in front. His expression shifted slightly. "The Esoteric Cult Examination Bureau?" The door of the lead armored vehicle swung open, and Bureau Director Lei stepped down. Behind him emerged figures clad in black trench coats, their faces and the backs of their hands marked with esoteric runes.