Operation Sunrise had been executed with utter smoothness. Jibei Dao Center City appeared to have regained its calm, yet matters were far from settled.
It was like dropping a depth charge into a tranquil lake, churning up thousands of surging waves in an instant. Once that night passed, countless telegraph signals flashed outward toward every Center City across Great Shun, as well as to nations across the globe.
What had transpired that night seemed on the surface to be merely a local incident within a single Center City, but the nature of what it entailed rattled countless individuals and factions, drawing tremendous attention.
Ever since the founding of the Republic of Great Shun, shared governance between local authorities and the central government had remained the norm. Given the international landscape and the external threats wrought by the Great Impact, this state of affairs was currently difficult to change.
Although the government's push toward centralizing power had never ceased, its influence had previously only been exerted over peripheral cities and outlying corners—scratching at the surface without causing real pain—leaving the structure of the Center Cities untouched.
Following Operation Sunrise in Jibei Dao, however, everything changed.
For the first time in Great Shun's history, municipal councilors of a Center City had been violently arrested and detained by the Government Affairs Hall. This immediately sparked panic and vigilance among the municipal councils of other Center Cities across the country.
Municipal councils from every Center City dispatched inquiries and letters to the central government to probe for information, wanting to know if the center was preparing to use violent force to enact institutional reforms. Many municipal councils even began making covert preparations. All at once, the atmosphere across the entire country grew tense.
Amid the uproar, the central government disclosed the truth: the incident in Jibei Dao had occurred due to extraordinary circumstances. The Municipal Council had openly colluded with foreign forces, secretly smuggling unsanctioned martial artists and international assassins into the convergence zone to attack the local Director of the Security Defense Department.
The announcement also placed special emphasis on the fact that this director was a member of the Jibei Dao Security Decision-Making Group and a military advisor who had played a pivotal role in military operations repelling the former imperial household—a figure of immense merit to the state.
This was already an act gravely endangering national security and demanded severe punishment. Following the release of the announcement, the Martial Artist Council, the Privy Council, and the Supreme Security Advisory Group all stepped forward to endorse the action.
With defensive security under unprecedented pressure today, acts of internal subversion that colluded with international powers and even the former imperial household could never be tolerated. The actions taken by the Jibei Dao Government Affairs Hall were entirely justified and worthy of commendation.
Once this announcement was issued, the restless agitation across the regions subsided immediately, and the previously taut atmosphere gradually settled down.
Yet in reality, the municipal councils across the land found little reassurance in this. Now that a first precedent had been set, a second could easily follow. Their efforts to build up military strength did not cease; instead, they redoubled their preparations to prevent a similar fate from befalling them.
On the international stage, various nations were also evaluating the future trajectory of Great Shun's situation.
Although it appeared on the surface to be merely an incident within a local Center City, viewed from a broader, long-term perspective, it was enough to shift Great Shun's entire political landscape and, in turn, exert a profound impact upon the world at large.
The primary actors in this event were thrust into the view of nations worldwide. Director-General Qi Weizhao was branded as an uncompromising hawk and reformist.
Meanwhile, the incident's most critical figure, Chen Chuan—who had also served as the primary martial artist involved—drew extraordinary scrutiny. The hand-drawn illustration made that very night found its way onto the desks of foreign dignitaries and corporate executives across the globe.
In the painting, Chen Chuan could be seen suspended midair, radiating brilliance all around him like a great sun rising in the dead of night, while six airships detonated in the sky and plummeted in ruins.
The artist's brushwork was seasoned and precise, marked by sharp contrasts that captured the panic, terror, and sheer disbelief of the people below to perfection, delivering an overwhelming visual impact.
Once again, reality proved that when a martial artist resolved to launch an assault against a target, anyone lacking equivalent force possessed no means of fighting back whatsoever.
Notably, the active conscious entities deployed in the incident—products of the world's most cutting-edge technology—had proven markedly inferior in direct confrontation with a martial artist. Stronger and more advanced active consciousnesses were needed, prompting nations and corporations worldwide to begin preparing for a new wave of technological upgrades.
In the Linax Federation, along the beach of Dafeng Bay, stretched a continuous expanse of ancient Eastern Continent-style architecture, resembling a compact palace complex. Yet security around the perimeter was tight; military outposts stood on the nearby high ground, and airships patrolled back and forth across the sky.
Inside the main pavilion, a young man clad in traditional robes set down the painting in his hand, his gaze heavy with solemnity. After a brief pause, he tapped his boundary credential.
The connection was established swiftly. He asked, "Mr. Xiang, have you seen the news?"
The person on the other end answered, "I have."
The young man bluntly pointed out, "The operation failed."
The voice on the other end replied, "We were prepared for failure from the beginning. Mr. Gao, we haven't actually suffered any real losses in this matter, nor is there any concrete evidence that can trace back to Yuanren Company."
Mr. Gao replied expressionlessly, "I don't care about losses. What concerns me is your next move. Do you have a way to eliminate the target?"
The person on the other end said, "Analyzing the data from all sources, the target is growing rapidly and currently holds the attention of everyone across Great Shun. It will be very difficult to touch him within Great Shun's borders. But if we invite him to the Linax Federation, we will have plenty of options."
Mr. Gao frowned slightly, seeming somewhat resistant to the idea. Still, he said nothing in protest, asking only, "What is your specific plan?"
"Our country previously dispatched an exchange delegation to Great Shun. We will have the delegation issue a batch of invitation letters to Great Shun under the pretext of promoting bilateral cultural and professional exchanges."
Mr. Gao considered it. This was indeed feasible.
The previous Federal Chief Executive had stepped down last year over the loss of Outer Ocean interests. The newly inaugurated Chief Executive this year harbored no intention of reclaiming Outer Ocean influence to continue clashing with Great Shun; instead, his focus was shifted toward the Western Continent, and he was seeking ways to ease relations with Great Shun.
Under this broader premise, issuing an invitation would not appear out of place.
He said, "Let it be so." Then he added a warning: "Remember, do not let word of this get out."
The voice on the other end responded, "Mr. Gao, you have my word."
***
By mid-June, while the outside world was caught in endless turmoil and telegrams flew in all directions, Chen Chuan's side remained tranquil. To avoid drawing excessive attention, he had taken an administrative leave during these days.
According to Qi Weizhao, this was merely a temporary squall. The structure of Great Shun ensured that Center Cities could hardly interfere with one another; what warranted greater concern was international influence and public opinion.
After all, the Center Cities were vital linchpins in defending against the Great Impact. That inherent role meant their governance could not be decided entirely by a single nation from within; in certain respects, they also had to accept international oversight. This very fact had been the source of the Municipal Council's confidence in the past.
It was said that an international investigation team was already being formed and would very likely arrive in Center City before long, requiring them to consider how best to handle the situation when the time came.
However, that was work for the Government Affairs Hall.
Chen Chuan's responsibilities still lay in security and defense. Although the Municipal Council had been thoroughly dealt with, he did not lower his guard. So long as that entity remained unfound, there could be no true peace of mind; outward safety remained an illusion.
For now, however, that matter had to be temporarily set aside. A report had arrived from Yuangan Company stating that some of the relics had been extracted from the bodies of the two ancient martial artists. Consequently, he needed to make a return trip to Yangzhi in the near future, leaving other matters to be handled upon his return.
***
Deep within the Lower City, two figures clad in grayish-green protective suits, goggles, and hoods walked through a bottomless tunnel, covered from head to toe without a patch of skin exposed.
Outsiders might not recognize their attire, but anyone in the Lower City knew at a glance that they belonged to the Plague Gang—or the Plague Cult, as they called themselves. Even down here, people avoided them like the pestilence they were.
One of them held a flashlight and swept the beam casually across the surroundings. In that brief flash, the entire wall was revealed to be covered in paintings—either swirling vortexes or bizarre, tangled monstrosities composed of eyes and mouths.
The deep, pitch-black voids within seemed ready to swallow a person whole with just a few glances, inducing a sickening vertigo. They quickly shifted the flashlight away, keeping their eyes trained solely on the path ahead.
After walking for a long while, they suddenly heard a rustling sound, like someone whispering or something slithering across the ground.
The two froze and aimed the flashlight to the side. There, sprawled against the wall, was a long-haired man whose fingers were smeared with bright red pigment, tracing out shapes and patterns. Yet what struck them as eerie was that all of this appeared to have been done in complete darkness, without a single light source or external aid.
Even now, caught in the beam of light, the man did not stop; he continued to paint without pause.
One of the pair noticed something on the painting seem to twitch. His heart skipped a beat. He shone the beam more closely—it was unmistakably just a drawing, as though his eyes had played tricks on him.
The other person called out, "Hey, Painter."
At the sound of the call, the man stopped abruptly. He turned his head to face them, revealing a pallid face in the beam of the flashlight.
The cultist told him, "The third batch of test subjects is about to be released. Try not to die."
Without waiting to see if he had heard, the speaker muttered "Let's go" to his companion, and the two walked away together.
Roughly half an hour after their departure, a sudden rustling swept through the tunnel. Innumerable insects poured out from an opened sluice gate, carpeting the underground space in dense, swarming throngs as they surged outward.
Yet as they passed that stretch of the tunnel, a dense sound of gnawing and mastication erupted, after which everything fell still once more.
The two cult members returned to the spot and swept their flashlights around, only to find the tunnel floor and walls coated in thick blood and mangled scraps. Some of the gore clung directly to the edges of the drawn limbs and mouths, as if during that brief interval, the entire mural had come to life.
The long-haired painter sat there cross-legged with his back turned to them, fiddling with something unseen.
Neither of them said a word. They hurried away, and once the flashlight beams receded, the tunnel plunged back into darkness. Before long, the faint rustling began anew.
Chapter 917