Portents

At the fringes of Fengde District in Center City, abandoned high-rises and dilapidated streets lay everywhere. Right now, a massive swarm of insects was heading this way. This was the territory of the Skeleton Gang. The large quantity of aberrant algae cultivated here effectively disrupted the Fumu's field. Furthermore, being low-lying terrain with standing water year-round, it was practically defenseless against alien organisms. When the swarm arrived, scores of Skeleton Gang members crawled out from junk cars and hollowed-out buildings, watching the bugs fly in one after another. The insects settled onto the vines draping the ruined high-rises and the surrounding trees, rapidly constructing nests. Before long, several among them began undergoing a swift metamorphosis. The gang members stared with bloodshot eyes. A gang boss grew excited and waved toward the back. "Bring the stuff out." A henchman quickly handed him a metal canister. He slung it around his neck and scrambled up a tree. Ignoring the insects biting him, he poked his head forward to inspect the nest. Seeing a plump grub squirming inside, he grinned. Clamping his legs tight around the trunk, he tipped the metal canister into his palm, spilling out fragments emitting a faint luminescence. Had Old Qi been here, he would have recognized these as the very items he had acquired in Yangzhi and resold here. The boss sprinkled the remnants into the nest. Waiting a moment, he saw the bugs swell slightly in size. Grinning broadly, he swiftly climbed down, then repeated the process in another nest on an adjacent tree. Barely half an hour later, cyan-red cocoons began to emerge around the nest where he had first scattered the fragments, clustering densely across adjacent walls and tree trunks like blistered heat boils. As the phenomena multiplied, the gang members below looked on with gazes full of boundless anticipation. *** At Mount Motie, Cao Guixi sat in the courtyard of his manor beneath drifting peach blossom petals, practicing calligraphy from an old-era copybook upon an aloeswood desk. Just then, with a soft splat, an insect dropped from above, smacking onto the pristine paper and leaving behind a smudge of filth. With a simple flick of his sleeve, he brushed it to the ground. After finishing the final stroke of his last character, he laid down his writing brush and glanced upward. Amid the swaying treetops, stray insects swirled. "It seems a few have slipped through," he noted. Uncle Ding, standing at his side, remarked, "Young Master, it is only a handful. The field of the manor's field organism has been deployed, and chemicals are being sprayed all around. Not many will get in." Cao Guixi gazed into the distance. High in the sky, an airship hovered, spraying sheets of chemical mist downward. "It's been the better part of a month now, hasn't it?" Uncle Ding bowed slightly. "Rest assured, Young Master. The manor is well stocked, with supplies enough to last three months. By then, whatever the circumstances, it should all be over. Furthermore, the Municipal Administration has reinforced security around Mount Motie these past few days. Nothing will go wrong." Cao Guixi offered neither agreement nor denial, only asking, "Did those people return yesterday?" "They did," Uncle Ding said. "They refused to leave, insisting they must see you, Young Master, and claiming you would regret it if you didn't. Shall I have them driven away?" Cao Guixi watched the fluttering petals. "Leave them be. The old era is long gone. Those who cannot let go will sooner or later be washed away by the waves of the new." *** Lower District. *Smack.* Lu Ke swatted a bug dead against the car window and muttered, "What the hell are these things? Why are there so many?" He looked up toward the glowing sun vines overhead. Swarms of insects circled around them, filling the air with a loud, buzzing racket. Yu Gang, having just wrapped up a class, pushed open the door and stepped out. He cast a glance at the dead bug, then looked upward. "The arrival of these bugs is unusual. Chen Chuan warned us to be careful the other day. It might have something to do with this." "Master, you think it's because of these? Probably not," Lu Ke scratched his head. "They're just tiny bugs. You can crush one with a slap." Yu Gang said gravely, "Carefulness is never a fault. Go find your Senior Sister Nan in a bit and ask her to check with the company to see if there's any unusual situation. And keep your guard up these next few days." Lu Ke readily agreed. In the Lower District, being careless got you killed. But just as he was about to leave, he startled—he actually saw swarms of rats scurrying through the tunnel in droves, as though migrating. Now this was bizarre. In the Lower District, rats were everyday sustenance; anything that showed its face was quickly caught and eaten. Normally, they dared only cower in dark corners. How could they run out in the open like this? Watching for a moment, he realized deep down that something was truly amiss. He immediately said, "Master, I'll go right now." *** Off Yinglu District, aboard a ship at sea, Nagahide Miyahide was practicing saber forms on the broad deck. In the distance stood Guan Shangjing alongside a group of Fenglin Arena disciples. Because personnel from the Esoteric Cult Examination Bureau were permanently stationed within Ferris Wheel Company and had yet to withdraw, these fighters from the Outer Ocean could not be housed at the company during the operation and were instead quartered at sea. As Nagahide Miyahide swung his blade, a flick of his eye caught sight of a vast swarm of tiny insects heading their way. It was practically an insect cloud, prompting a chorus of curses as it drifted over the disciples. As the bugs neared him, he delivered a gentle stroke of his saber. It was as though a light breeze sprang from thin air, sweeping the insects outward. Whirled around several times, they were carried past the ship's railing, where they resumed buzzing about as if nothing had happened. Yet after flitting only a few strokes, they suddenly began detonating one after another out of thin air, internal tissues splattering apart. In that instant, over the sea beside the ship, a long band of mist seemed to erupt from end to end. This was the Fenglin Arena's secret technique, the "Wind Chanting Slash." When the blade slashed, the jin attached to the target and detonated moments later. It was a skill combining spirit and jin, capable of felling enemies invisibly, leaving the watching disciples thrilling with excitement. Guan Shangjing marveled inwardly. Those disciples saw only the momentum and destructive power of the technique, but he perceived Nagahide Miyahide's exquisite, microscopic control over his jin. The number of bugs struck down just now was precisely three thousand—not one more, not one less. He thought to himself, *Senior Brother Miyahide must have obtained Master's permission and visited the "Ghost Gate."* The Ghost Gate was a fissure handed down through generations of the Fenglin Arena. Said to lie on the ocean floor, one could enter only after cultivating their physical constitution to a certain standard. He had heard that the entities beyond this fissure had shared centuries of entanglement with the Fenglin Arena, coexisting and merging into one. Thus, perilous though it was, spiritual cultivation there yielded twice the results with half the effort, allowing one to study and comprehend the various secret arts left behind by past Fenglin masters. Yet however deep Fenglin Arena's heritage ran, it was ultimately an inheritance of the old era. Entering the new era, only by commanding a powerful active conscious entity could one grasp the future. At this moment, Nagahide Miyahide abruptly stopped. Glancing at the Fenglin Arena disciples standing aside, he pointed his saber at one of them. "You. Come forward. I shall confer upon you the transmission mark of the Wind Chanting Slash." The disciple showed boundless excitement, answered with a resounding "Yes!", and ran forward. Behind him, the remaining disciples looked on with envy. When the disciple reached Nagahide Miyahide, he immediately prostrated himself, then raised his head toward the sea. Nagahide Miyahide slowly raised his saber. After a brief pause, the blade came down. With absolute precision, the tip struck the disciple right between the brows. The disciple shuddered violently, a dazed look surfacing in his eyes. A moment later, his senses returned. Kneeling, he swiftly shuffled back several paces, then bowed deeply, shouting with all his might, "Thank you, Senior Brother Miyahide, for bestowing the transmission seal!" Nagahide Miyahide flicked his saber, slowly sheathed it, and walked toward Guan Shangjing as the disciples on either side bowed and stepped aside. Guan Shangjing stepped forward and fell into step beside him. "Senior Brother Miyahide, although Junior Brother Huishilang delivered the challenge to the Xuangong Building, an unexpected incident occurred—it was intercepted by Sancheng Huang." "Sancheng Huang of Langtao Arena?" An intrigued look crossed Nagahide Miyahide's face. "So he took that strike?" Guan Shangjing nodded. "Yes, Senior Brother Miyahide. This Sancheng Huang seems rather lacking in good sense." Nagahide Miyahide waved a hand. "How could the actions of true heroes resemble those of ordinary men?" Sancheng Huang's interference only made this battle all the more compelling. "Should we send another challenge, Senior Brother?" Nagahide Miyahide said, "No need. That Mr. Chen should already know of my arrival by now. Let this battle hold some suspense... Hm?" He suddenly looked out across the sea, having just caught a glimmer of flashing light. Guan Shangjing's expression turned solemn. The disciples hadn't noticed the abnormality, but a third-limit fighter like him saw it with absolute clarity. That was no flash of lightning, but an aperture born from the collision between two worlds, fleeting though it was. He understood that the Fumu must have grown unstable. It seemed the shift in the situation would unfold over the next few days, and those coming days would be the crucial turning point determining Ferris Wheel Company's future course. *** Inside his quarters at the Xuangong Building, Chen Chuan sat on the sofa, meticulously wiping down the Xuejun Saber with a cloth. Each time this saber drew something from an enemy weapon, it undoubtedly grew tougher and sharper than before. In recent clashes, whenever blades met head-on, it could shear straight through the opponent's weapon. This was likely triggered by whatever it had originally absorbed from Xiong Jianyi. Yet what that truly was, he still did not know. Still, he did not fret over it. The saber was in his hands, under his command; whatever further changes occurred, he would observe them directly. Once he finished wiping the blade, he gave it a turn in his hand. Suddenly, the sky outside the window flashed, as though a streak of lightning had sliced across. His movement paused, and he looked outward. Moments later, he spotted several similar flashes high in the sky. Instantly recognizing what they were, he thought to himself, *It looks like it's coming soon.*