Apprehension

Seeing Chen Chuan catch the projectile barehanded, the young man froze, a look of disbelief washing over his face. Given the immense force behind his throw, merely deflecting or blocking it might have been plausible, but doing so would have undoubtedly damaged the metal pellet. Chen Chuan, however, held it intact in his palm. That meant he had completely neutralized and dissipated every shred of kinetic energy carried by the projectile. What shook him to his core was that Chen Chuan had accomplished this while advancing forward step by step. Even his elder brother, who could take his throws head-on, could never have done it with such ease. Chen Chuan clenched his five fingers. The metal pellet instantly pulverized, rattling noisily onto the pavement below, as he continued walking forward. Seeing Chen Chuan still closing the distance, goosebumps erupted across the young man's skin. Sweeping his legs out in several rapid kicks, he kicked loose most of the metal pellets lined up on the platform, sending them flying. He then leapt backward, turned on his heel, and sprinted away at top speed. Long-range bombardment was his forte; close combat was his fatal weakness. Paralyzed by the creeping dread Chen Chuan inspired, all he could think of now was fleeing for his life. Facing the torrent of pellets raining down like a deluge, Chen Chuan took a single glance, leaned forward, and surged ahead. As he charged, an invisible shield of jin manifested before him; every projectile striking it shattered instantly into dust. In the blink of an eye, he covered the long stretch of ground, plowing directly through the structure where the young man had just been perched. The remaining pellets lined up there scattered and clattered wildly across the ground. A single breath later, he materialized directly behind the fleeing youth. The youth gasped. His reflexes were razor-sharp; vaulting into the air, he kicked off an adjacent wall, whirled around, and whipped out his arm. Even though it was not a projectile throw, the whip of his limb detonated through the air with a thunderous crack. This turnabout strike was a secret art passed down through his family, designed specifically against pursuers. Blindingly fast and completely unexpected, a single blow was usually enough to blow an enemy's skull wide open. This time, however, Chen Chuan raised an arm and swatted it aside. As their limbs collided, a loud explosive crack rang out. Half of the young man's arm burst apart on the spot, splattering shredded flesh and splintered bone amid a burst of bloody mist. With that strike, the youth's balance was utterly ruined. Carried by his high-speed momentum, he pitched forward into a fall. But the instant his body tipped over, a hand reached out and clamped onto his shoulder. A wave of seizing jin penetrated deep inside, rushing up toward his neck and coursing down to his tailbone. A paralyzing limpness instantly sapped his entire body. Hoisted in midair, he was completely immobilized, able only to roll his eyes—now brimming with sheer terror, stripped clean of any trace of his earlier arrogance. While Chen Chuan was capturing the young man, further away, someone had a long-range firearm trained on him. The crosshairs of the scope had already centered on Chen Chuan's head. Yet just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, a hand pressed down upon the barrel. Startled, he looked up to find the man with the clawed cord standing beside him, having arrived unnoticed. Shaking his head, the man said, "There's no chance. Taking that shot will only draw him right to us." Hearing this, the shooter frowned. Reluctantly, his finger slowly eased off the trigger, though he muttered unhappily, "From what I see, he hasn't noticed a thing." Many formidable fighters possessed an uncanny sense of impending danger whenever a gun was aimed at them. Yet as he held Chen Chuan in his sights, the latter showed no intention of dodging, nor did he even glance in this direction, as if he were completely oblivious. Naturally, the shooter felt indignant. The man with the clawed cord said grimly, "It's not that he lacks danger sense. It's that even if you fired, the round wouldn't penetrate his skull. Your shot poses zero threat to him, so why would he bother paying you any attention?" He looked outside. "This Disposal Bureau investigation supervisor has definitely mastered some terrifying external conditioning jin. Today's mission is blown. Fall back. If we don't leave now, we won't be leaving at all." The sniper asked, "What about Radonajian?" Without directly answering, the cord-wielding man walked away. "Let's worry about saving our own skins first." Just then, a small airship swept across the sky, dropping a rope ladder. The two caught hold of it and were whisked away toward the distant horizon. Chen Chuan turned his eyes and spotted the airship. Noticing a scattered metal pellet by his feet, he picked it up and gave it a slight heft in his hand. Then, with a twist of his waist and back, layer upon layer of mutated tissue activated as he hurled it toward the retreating figures. The man with the clawed cord immediately sensed the danger. Releasing his hold on the rope ladder, he grabbed the lower end of his flexible cord with one hand, pulling and snapping it taut with the other to form an intersecting barrier right before him. An instant later, the projectile slammed into it. An overwhelming tension tore across both his hands, rattling his arm bones and threatening to snap his fingers, dragging his entire body backward. Even so, the pellet bore forward unyieldingly, ultimately striking his chest with a heavy thud. Reeling backward, he plummeted from midair. Before hitting the ground, he flipped backward and touched down with a thud, his knees buckling and a hand bracing against the pavement before he managed to steady himself. Only then did the pellet's momentum exhaust itself, dropping from his chest onto the ground. Yet before he could even catch his breath, the wall opposite him blew outward with a deafening crash. Rubble and bricks rolled across the ground as a figure wearing a protective mask strode through. His heart skipped a beat, his grip tightening secretly around his cord. Watching Chen Chuan walk toward him, he locked his gaze onto his opponent, not daring to waver for a fraction of a second. Having witnessed the previous clash, he knew this man's might was far beyond his ability to contend with. If possible, he would rather surrender right now. However, the high-paying mercenary contract he had signed beforehand precluded any such option; he had no choice but to fight with everything he had. Once Chen Chuan entered a certain range, the crushing pressure radiating from him grew stifling. Unable to bear remaining idle, the man let out a low grunt and sprang from the ground, lashing out with the long cord. Infused with his jin, the cord abruptly extended significantly, whipping forward like five separate whips. The extension and retraction of such cords relied entirely on the application of jin. They could be rigid or supple, and were exceedingly difficult to defend against. Once any of an opponent's limbs became ensnared, his specialized force-exertion techniques could drag them down or tear them off balance, leaving them entirely at his mercy. Chen Chuan waved an arm outward. His Mind Jin directly repelled the cord across the air, keeping it from descending. But the cord suddenly flared out like an outstretched claw. The tip was fitted with several small metal hooks; the moment they touched an opponent's limbs or torso, they would instantly tear into the flesh and rip away an entire swath of skin and mutated tissue. Before the cord could fall, however, Chen Chuan's other hand whipped out the supervisor's sidearm from his waist, aiming it square at his opponent merely four or five meters away. Shocked, the man with the clawed cord immediately crouched to dodge. But the barrel tracked his descent smoothly. Bang! A gunshot cracked, immediately followed by another, and then another... Chen Chuan fired six consecutive shots. At such point-blank range, every single bullet struck home. Although the man managed to twist away from fatal spots, an investigation supervisor's sidearm was designed specifically against fighters, loaded with custom ammunition. Each bullet's impact wracked his body with violent spasms. After six shots, six bloody cavities opened across his torso and limbs, exposing fractured bone and viscera, with the bone in one leg seemingly completely shattered. The cord-wielding man staggered a few steps sideways before collapsing to the ground with a dull thud. He tried to mobilize his vital essence to recover, but on second thought, realized it was futile—doing so would only prolong his agony. He had already fulfilled his obligations to his employer. Giving up, he spread out his limbs and lay on his back, offering no further resistance. Looking down from above, the long-range sniper watched the scene in terror, inwardly sighing with relief. If he had not made his escape early, that might have been his fate as well. Yet right at that moment, a sharp hiss sliced through the air as something whistled overhead. The rope ladder was severed cleanly in midair, sending him plummeting from the sky. Stunned, he fell blindly through the air. As he plummeted, he saw combat organisms flying in one after another from the perimeter, while fierce gunfire erupted from where their outer defense team was stationed. Before he could get a clear view, he slammed into the roof of a building below with a heavy crash. Soon after, combat organisms pounced one after another toward the spot where he had landed. Chen Chuan glanced over. He had arranged this well before arriving. This time, he had mobilized all the combat organisms in the surrounding area, along with members from the Jiyang District Disposal Bureau and the city security forces, led by Yuan Qiuyuan and his two companions. To ensure no news leaked, he had also instructed Andun to shield the local field information and strictly forbade anyone from transmitting messages outward. With the key personnel neutralized early on, the men stationed along the perimeter failed to mount any meaningful resistance and were cut down one by one. Shortly after, security personnel led by Disposal Bureau operatives rushed in. They clamped specialized manacles onto the mercenaries who lay wounded on the ground, preparing to escort them all back for interrogation. Chen Chuan stepped to the side, tapped his boundary credential, and contacted Chief Wu directly to report the current situation. Chief Wu replied in a deep voice, "Understood. Bring them in first." Chen Chuan nodded. Chief Wu added, "That Fang Zhixin—he's Old Chen's former assistant, right?" "Yes," Chen Chuan answered. Chief Wu said, "Handle this as you see fit. Just make sure to tie up all the loose ends." "Understood, Chief Wu." Fang Zhixin had been under investigation and hunted by the Provisional Special Operations Committee. However, as far as the Disposal Bureau was concerned, the charges against Fang Zhixin had already been rescinded ever since Chen Bitong's death was officially designated as a sacrifice in the line of duty. Thus, the Disposal Bureau had no obligation to arrest Fang Zhixin, nor did they have any desire to do the Provisional Special Operations Committee's dirty work. After ending the call, Chen Chuan turned back toward the small store. Fang Zhixin was still waiting inside, having made no attempt to flee. Chen Chuan looked at him and said, "What were you about to say earlier?" ... ...