Reinhard seized 030. The threads flared, and in the blink of an eye, both figures vanished from sight.
No sooner had they disappeared than a swarm of police vehicles encircled the area.
Among them were local police forces as well as Kitsune acquisition specialists. In an instant, Arthur became their target.
"010 detected. Requesting headquarters to dispatch Heavenly Stem Earthly Branch for acquisition!"
...
Back atop the shopping mall skyscraper.
Reinhard pulled an apple from a black plastic bag but, after a moment's pause, set it back inside.
"You've tangled with Kitsune more than a few times, haven't you?"
030 kept his eyes fixed on the scene below, plucked out an apple from Reinhard's bag, and replied, "Seven encounters in total, but always under different identities."
"This method is the fastest way for me to gather intelligence. It's why I can now calculate Kitsune's deployment speed with an error margin of no more than fifteen seconds."
030—the Lie Eater. Kitsune's files on him were frustratingly thin.
Even now, they had no grasp of his true identity, nor any certainty of what his abilities entailed.
They had never sought him out. Instead, it was 030 who pursued them, tirelessly.
Through repeated contact, he had gathered a trove of Kitsune intelligence.
"So what's keeping you?" Reinhard asked.
"If Chaos was your choice, you should've left with them just now."
030 bit into the apple, chewing deliberately. "Right now, Chaos is being unilaterally suppressed by Kitsune. Even if I joined them, it wouldn't tip the scales."
"On the contrary, after learning about Serpent's Hand, I've come up with a new plan."
"You're planning to join Serpent's Hand?"
"Not exactly."
"Do you remember what I just told you? Neither Kitsune nor Chaos understands that place."
That place—of course—was the Death Game.
"We came out of it. We are the first batch. Soon there will be a second, a third, a fourth."
"Rather than joining an existing faction and getting entangled in their wars, I lean closer to the philosophy of Serpent's Hand and Black Queen—standing on the mountain, watching the tigers fight."
"But no matter how low-key Serpent's Hand acts, Kitsune has already branded them a reactionary force."
"If Chaos is destroyed, Serpent's Hand will inevitably be Kitsune's next target."
"When that happens, Serpent's Hand will be pushed to the front lines, forced into direct confrontation with Kitsune."
"And among them lurks another group with unclear motives—the Black Queen. Their true purpose remains unknown even now."
"Taken together, both Serpent's Hand and Black Queen have chosen a shadowed, strategic posture."
"That's why the war plays out as a one-sided clash between Kitsune and Chaos. And nothing more."
"I have no intention of being captured by Kitsune. Nor do I wish to join Chaos and become an enemy of the world. By nature, Serpent's Hand and Black Queen are of the same kind."
"But sooner or later, Kitsune will find them too."
"So I ask you—does there exist a place, or an organization, that has been here since the very beginning, yet has never once been discovered?"
Yes—there was. The Death Game.
Reinhard's eyes lit with sudden clarity. "You want to use that place as a foundation, to establish your own organization?"
030 tossed the half-eaten apple into a trash bag.
"Exactly. More individuals will emerge from there, and I will gather them. We don't need to rely on anyone else. We can form our own power."
"Not on a single ability. Not on one unique individual. But on numbers—we will have the most."
"I believe most who come from there feel the same. We don't wish to become enemies of the world, sowing destruction and panic. After all, we live on this land too."
"But neither do we wish to be captured by Kitsune, locked away like convicts in some cage for the rest of our lives."
"And so, the purpose of this organization is simple: self-preservation. We rely on one another, we form a shield. Whether out of selfless conviction or for selfish ends—it doesn't matter."
"What name will you give it?"
030's gaze sharpened.
"The Night Watchers."
Hearing 030's words, Reinhard fell silent.
At that moment, 030 extended an invitation.
"Are you interested in building this organization with me?"
Reinhard shook his head.
He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the tattoo etched into his arm.
"Once you're involved, how can you ever walk away?"
"You could just wash it off."
"A tattoo may fade, but what lies beneath it can never be scrubbed clean."
Reinhard rose to his feet.
"If I joined the Night Watchers, you'd never reach the goals you're aiming for."
"Why not try removing your mask? After all, what they remember is the mask—not the face behind it."
Reinhard lifted a hand toward the mask covering his face. But after a brief pause, he let his hand fall.
"A mask worn too long cannot be taken off."
He could no longer discard his identity. He had already chosen to climb higher peaks; turning back now would mean plunging from a precipice ten thousand zhang deep.
The Reinhard beneath the mask was dead.
The colossal dragon suspended high in the heavens, the endless red mist seeping into all things, the crawling Swarm, the nameless horrors stirring beneath the sea—
From that day onward, he had been able to see them.
They stood on different summits; they looked upon different worlds.
030 yearned for peace, but only in regard to Kitsune and Chaos—only in the outer world.
Yet compared to the entities of the Reason World, what did those struggles matter?
The more one learned, the more one realized their own ignorance. Every question answered birthed another in its place.
Reinhard drifted in uncertainty, unable to see where the next step lay.
How could he win his god's favor?
How could he usher in evolution once more?
If not through his god, how could he ever ascend further?
If this world brimmed with energy, none of these questions would matter.
But here, all energy stemmed from the Dragon's decay. As Principal Starry had said, this world's energy was far too thin.
For transcendent life to arise on its own was almost impossible.
If one were like Zero, possessing a demonic body, already standing at the peak of the 3rd Step, then even with scarce energy, it was possible to ascend to the 4th Step.
But Reinhard was not merely one step away from the 4th Step.
Even a single step across the threshold could take years. And Reinhard—who stood far further back—had no way of knowing how many years it would take.
Perhaps this, after all, was the natural state of things.
The accumulation of power is also the accumulation of years; it can never be seized all at once.
But potions grant strength faster, more directly, and with greater force—like a cheat.
Everyone is cheating. If you rely only on true cultivation, you'll never catch up.
...
"Jia Wood, in position."
A figure descended from the sky, a faint azure phantom looming behind him. Jia Wood was the first to arrive at the scene.
At this moment, Arthur was under brutal bombardment. His twin blades cut down swaths of incoming fire, but against the endless rain of bullets and shrapnel, there was no way to shield himself completely.
Round after round ripped into his flesh. His body, reinforced to the 3rd Step, could endure more than any ordinary being, yet wave after wave of gunfire still tore him open, leaving him bloodied and staggering.
Hot weapons—ineffective?
Only because the firepower wasn't enough.
Until one reached the qualitative transformation of 4th Step, a hailstorm of bullets could still pin them down.
Even a 4th Step being wasn't wholly immune.
A nuclear blast was usually sufficient to annihilate a standard 4th Step entity. But against an existence like Red Mist… even that would hardly suffice.
Blood spattered across Arthur's body as he hacked frantically, his twin knives shielding his head while he stumbled back toward the shopping mall.
"What the hell is this thing? Still alive after more than five minutes under fire? Is this even human?!"
The armed police and stationed military had no clue what Arthur was. But their orders had been clear—open fire. And orders were meant to be obeyed.
Meanwhile, Kitsune operatives moved in lockstep with the soldiers, securing the perimeter and initiating a mass civilian evacuation.
Afterward, they would scrub memories from anyone who had seen too much.
Arthur finally forced his way into the supermarket. A hand signal cut through the chaos, and the barrage ceased.
That was the instant Jia Wood struck.
Arthur, clutching his wounds, scrambled up toward the mall's second floor.
"Computer! Where the hell are you? If you don't show up, I'm dying full of regrets!"
"You're still alive?"
"Alive my ass! Happy birthday, where's the happy birthday?!"
"Blow those Kitsune bastards sky-high!"
"On my way—fifty-two seconds. Hold on."
Arthur's teeth ground together. That brat Zhang Yuanqing had vanished without a trace.
This time, he'd really been played—caught in the threads of that damn Serpent's Hand!
Among all beings below 4th Step, the number who could hold Arthur in a deadlock could be counted on one hand. Reinhard was one of them.
And now, of all days, they had to cross paths.
Just his luck.
Jia Wood vaulted upward, the faint azure phantom flaring behind him, twin serpents coiling around its shoulders.
He landed on the second floor, the serpents whirling loose in an instant.
They intertwined, surging into a mass of vines, twisting and hardening until they formed a colossal Wood Dragon. With a roar, it lunged, fangs bared, to rip Arthur apart.
Arthur's eyes flared crimson. He slashed out with his knife.
Clang!
At that moment two explosions detonated beneath his feet. Vines shot up instantly, coiling around Arthur's arms.
Damn it — another one who uses bindings!
Can't these binding-users just die already?!
Before Arthur could reply, the Wood Dragon bit into his shoulder. Sharp wooden thorns, acting like teeth, ripped away a large chunk of flesh.
Puff, puff!
"Aaaah!"
Arthur screamed in pain. Jia Wood struck next: his phantom grabbed the vines from behind, and together with his physical body they effortlessly pinned Arthur to the ground.
"You don't look as strong as your intel made you out to be, 010."
Arthur ground his teeth. "If I weren't hurt, I'd tear you into eight pieces in a second!"
Jia Wood tightened the vines with his ability, then keyed his communicator to call headquarters. "Containment of 010 complete. Awaiting retrieval backup."
Arthur flailed for a moment, but the way Jia Wood had stiffened the vines was subtle and cruel —they had sunk into several of his joints, locking him so he couldn't summon any real force.
"Computer, where's the 'happy birthday'? How far along is it?!" someone demanded.
"Intercepted," came the reply.
"What?"
"Their missile-interception tech is now world-class. When the UN conference convenes, Kitsune will present several potential scenarios to major nations."
"One of those scenarios is our 'happy birthday.'"
"During that time, I penetrated multiple national air-defense departments and analyzed every available missile-interception and firewall encryption system."
"But I didn't expect them to make an actual breakthrough aimed specifically at me in such a short span."
"Oh?"
"Can't you crack it again?"
"I am cracking it, but it's strange. Their encryption this time exceeds my current models."
"What do you mean?"
"I need time."
"How long?"
"At most two days."
"In two days I'll be dust!"
"Can't you speed it up? You're a computer!"
"Not this time. They're targeting me intentionally. I don't know how they used Oracle to build this third encryption layer — there's almost no reference data online for me to draw from."
"This technological leap is significant. They must have a mastermind."
"Then be faster!"
"I already said it's difficult. They developed a new system and new encryption; the Oracle data I can gather online is incomplete. Cracking it in such a short time is impossible."
Kitsune had already warned multiple countries about numerous operations the Chaos Insurgency might carry out — for example, intercontinental missile strikes capable of reaching from Africa to Asia in under a minute.
Two Asian states reported that their missile protocols were also highly advanced.
A minute from Africa to Asia?
We have missiles like that too.
But that wasn't the real problem. The core issue was the Computer — the entity capable of invading global systems and crippling all missile-interception networks.
That was the real danger.
From the start, it wasn't the 'happy birthday' that was terrifying; it was the Computer that launched it.
In response, every country scrambled to innovate.
But innovation is easier said than done. Updating an existing system even by 0.1 is notable; true breakthroughs don't happen overnight.
Publicly, nations acknowledged this fact.
Privately, they somehow engineered an entirely new system in record time.
That made the Computer feel toyed with.
The last time he checked, their progress had been zero. A whole group of people had been stalling, doing nothing but chatting.
And yet, before long, a brand-new system was completed?
How was that even possible?
This immediately made Computer think of the legendary Strategic Deception Bureau. Could it be… he had been deceived as well?
But Computer's shaken confidence was a minor concern. Arthur's capture, however, was critical!
He would be joining Naira and the others.
At that moment, a thunderous crash erupted below!
Several black-clad figures were hurled out in an instant!
Jia Wood spun around sharply—and saw Zhang Yuanqing emerging from the underground parking lot, casually carrying a stereo.
Deafening music blasted through the entire shopping mall!
"Which child cries every day, which gambler loses every day!"
Jia Wood recognized him at once. "029—The Gambler detected. Ji Earth, engage."
At his command, two colossal arms of rock burst from beneath Zhang Yuanqing's feet, clamping onto his legs.
But as the arms shot up, Zhang Yuanqing flicked a coin into the air and clenched it in his palm.
"I've got my music playing. Can't you give me a little respect?"
Boom!!
With a violent roar, power surged from Zhang Yuanqing's lower body. He suddenly lifted his leg, wrenching Ji Earth straight out of the ground!
What?!
Before Ji Earth could react, Zhang Yuanqing pivoted and unleashed a kick, sending her flying!
Boom!
Ji Earth smashed into the mall wall, the devastating impact making the entire structure tremble and crack.
Zhang Yuanqing opened his hand—the coin gleamed. Heads.
At that instant, Jia Wood struck again. The twin snakes on his shoulders unfurled into a Wood Dragon, lunging with snapping jaws.
Zhang Yuanqing tossed the coin once more, then charged in with a punch. "I'm betting it's still heads!"
Fist and Wood Dragon collided. The coin clattered to the floor.
Heads.
Boom!!
An overwhelming force burst from Zhang Yuanqing's fist, shattering the Wood Dragon and slamming Jia Wood with brutal backlash.
"Pfft!"
Jia Wood spat a mouthful of blood. Clutching his chest, he felt a sudden weight of doubt gnawing at his heart.
An overwhelming force pressed closer and closer—
What kind of power does this man possess?
Zhang Yuanqing slipped another coin from his pocket, flicked it into the air, and caught it with practiced ease.
"Guess this time—heads or tails?"
Jia Wood slammed his palm against the ground. A forest of sharp wooden thorns erupted upward, surging at Zhang Yuanqing in a deadly wave.
"Not looking at the cards, betting blind—that's the essence of gambling!!"
"Only then is it exciting enough!"
Zhang Yuanqing laughed, stomping hard. A blast of power exploded from beneath his feet, pulverizing the marble floor and crushing every wooden thorn to dust.
"Hahahaha!!"
"Four straight wins! What a rush!!"
Zhang Yuanqing was a gambler in the purest sense. The instant he tossed a coin toward his enemy, he had already handed his life over to fate.
If fate decreed death, then so be it.
If fate decreed victory, then he would win.
This reckless, utterly irrational thrill was his pursuit—staking everything, gambling his very life.
In that split second before the coin touched the ground, his life and death hung suspended by a single thread. That pulse of uncertainty made every pore flare open, made every cell in his body shiver with ecstasy.
Gamblers all share one trait: they never stop.
To flee after a single loss, to quit after a few wins—such people are no gamblers at all.
A true gambler cannot stop. Gambling is an abyss of desire: once you fall in, there is no turning back.
Again Zhang Yuanqing tossed his coin. "Do you know why I stake my life again and again, never-ending on the table?"
"Because Lady Luck stands right beside me!"
"Why can I still be here, perfectly unharmed? Because whenever I bet my life, I am always the winner!"
Fate is strange, intangible. Perhaps Zhang Yuanqing was right—perhaps fortune did favor him.
His fateline was tougher than most. Destiny clung to him, making him a true Child of Luck.
But luck was never absolute. Before he dared to gamble with his life, he too endured endless losses—nine out of ten.
Yet the moment he staked everything, his strong luck awakened, as though fate itself refused to let him die.
Such luck was unimaginable to ordinary people. These Children of Luck were said to live to the very end.
But sometimes, the Death Game drew them together.
And in those moments, their so-called strong luck seemed to vanish.
Why? The reason was not hard to guess.
Nothing more than this: relative equality.
If you stand at 1.9 meters among people only 1.67 meters tall, you are the giant.
But in a gathering of men two meters tall, 1.9 becomes merely average.
In the same way—if everyone possesses strong luck, then no one does.
And when such a group disperses, that so-called "average" is nothing more than disdain for the majority.
The coin fell again!
Zhang Yuanqing's speed spiked like lightning, driving him straight at Jia Wood. Jia Wood reacted instantly, commanding his phantom to strike first with a heavy punch—
But—!
The phantom's fist passed clean through Zhang Yuanqing's body.
What?!
Jia Wood had no time to process it. Zhang Yuanqing's own fist had already connected.
Thud!
One punch blasted straight through Jia Wood's abdomen!
Pfft!
Blood and viscera gushed out. He hadn't even managed to raise his light shield—the strike caught him utterly unprepared.
Why? Why did the phantom pass through Zhang Yuanqing?
Could it be… he couldn't see the phantom?
Couldn't perceive the Mist World?
Impossible. He was on the monster list!
Jia Wood's eyes went bloodshot as his body toppled backward.
Zhang Yuanqing opened his gore-slicked fist. "Five straight wins—this time, even the gods can't save him!"
Arthur and Ji Earth froze, dumbstruck.
What had just happened?
How had Zhang Yuanqing walked straight through the phantom?
At that moment, the command center's voice rang sharply through Ji Earth's communicator:
"029's ability is rule-based—but he himself cannot perceive the Mist World. Ji Earth, do not use secondary bodies!"
Cannot use secondary bodies?
Then just now…
No. Calm down. Think carefully!
Ji Earth had been waiting in ambush underground. On Jia Wood's signal, she had summoned colossal rock arms to seize Zhang Yuanqing's legs.
That was a physical manifestation, and Zhang Yuanqing had seen them.
Next, Jia Wood had unleashed his secondary body, the twin snakes, to form a Wood Dragon. Zhang Yuanqing had seen that too.
So was it truly a secondary body?
No!
The snakes weaving into a dragon was simply elemental wood manipulation, not a phantom projection.
The coils of vines forming a Wood Dragon were still matter of the physical plane.
The wooden thorns afterward were the same.
Because of those earlier misjudgments, Jia Wood had failed to realize—Zhang Yuanqing couldn't see his phantom at all.
Yes. Zhang Yuanqing had never once said he saw the secondary body.
In his eyes, that shadow had never existed.
But everyone overlooked it—because the opponent was on the list.
And being on the list meant you could see through the Mist World. That was basic common sense!
It was that assumption, that bias, which led Jia Wood to misjudge… and to keep his light shield down.
Such was the peril of the acquisition profession: one mistake at the knife's edge of life and death, and you were finished.
Now it became clear—they had simply been too lucky before.
Not only Ji Earth, but Arthur was also shaken.
A moment ago Zhang Yuanqing had seemed like a frail chick; now he fought like a war god incarnate.
Arthur gritted his teeth. "I owe you an apology. I called you weak before—"
But before he could finish, a blur of motion struck.
A figure lashed out with a kick, sending Zhang Yuanqing flying.
"Weak."