"Fire Hydrant Task Force… Third Squad, this is… Headquarters, respond if you receive!"
The intermittent static of the radio was particularly grating in the silent snow.
Serie followed the sound and found a half-buried black walkie-talkie in a snowdrift a few meters from the overturned prison van.
It was probably thrown out by some unlucky Soldier during the chaos, thus miraculously escaping the Wildfire.
She bent down to pick it up, the plastic casing cool to the touch.
She didn't respond immediately, holding her breath and listening.
Then, the cold, hard male voice sounded again.
This time, it carried a hint of imperceptible vigilance: "Fire Hydrant Task Force Third Squad, report your status immediately!"
It seemed that if no one responded again, the person on the other end of the walkie-talkie would send reinforcements to the scene to see what had happened.
Since that was the case, Serie steeled her heart, brought the walkie-talkie to her mouth, and tried to lower her voice, mimicking that rigid seriousness:
"Ahem… This is Fire Hydrant Task Force Third Squad…"
"We're… uh… everything's normal!"
As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to bite off her own tongue.
Everything's normal?
Who says everything's normal when everything's normal?
Isn't that just giving yourself away?
Serie couldn't help but palm her forehead at her clumsy acting, revealing a self-deprecating bitter smile.
The expected questioning or reprimand did not come immediately.
Just as Serie was nervously waiting for a response, the male voice suddenly asked in an even colder, more serious tone, enunciating each word:
"The raven is preening its feathers on the church?"
Serie: "...?"
She held the walkie-talkie, frozen in place.
Church? Raven? Preening feathers? What was all this about?
Various movie scenes flashed quickly through her mind…
A code! This was a code!
Oh no, oh no, how am I supposed to know this!
The other party clearly interpreted Serie's silence as a bad signal or hesitation.
The cold voice, with an undeniable sense of pressure, repeated: "Repeat, the raven is preening its feathers on the church?"
Cold sweat instantly drenched Serie's back.
In a flash, a sudden idea struck her.
"...The seagull went to the pier for some fries?" She practically blurted it out, her voice slightly distorted by nervousness.
The moment the words landed, the world seemed to be muted.
Only the cold wind, laden with snow, whistled in her ears.
The silence on the other end of the walkie-talkie was deathly, even the static had disappeared.
This silence made Serie's scalp tingle more than any interrogation.
Suddenly—
"Beep beep beep beep beep—!"
A sharp, urgent buzzing sound suddenly burst from the walkie-talkie!
Serie's pupils contracted sharply, a sense of crisis suddenly surging in her heart, and without thinking, she threw the object in her hand away as if shaking off a venomous snake!
The walkie-talkie arced through the air.
Boom!
A blinding flash of fire, accompanied by a deafening explosion, erupted in mid-air!
Serie shielded her face with her arm, screaming internally:
I knew it, I've been exposed!
The shockwave, carrying a wave of heat, swept over, making Serie's eardrums buzz, and she staggered back a few steps before steadying herself.
However, the expected burning pain did not arrive.
The bursting fire seemed to be attracted, converging on her body in wisps!
A strange warm current surged through her body, and the few small cuts she had sustained from the sharp edges of the rocks felt a slight tingling itch, scabbing over rapidly at a visible speed.
Before Serie could even revel in her good fortune for another second, the female voice in her mind suddenly spoke without warning:
"You have received a new mission—"
"Main Mission: Retreat, or Fight to the Death!"
"Objective: Escape the current area, kill all reinforcing Supernatural Anomaly Containment and Control Bureau Soldiers (0/21)"
"Reward: Choosing 'Fight to the Death' will temporarily unlock the 'War Frenzy' ability. Successfully killing all 21 Soldiers will grant 3 ability points and permanently unlock the 'War Frenzy' ability."
Serie's heart sank sharply.
Control Bureau reinforcements, arriving so quickly?!
But her gaze was fixed on the mission reward, the permanent "War Frenzy" ability, and three ability points!
This windfall was enough to drastically increase her strength!
Whether it was maxing out all three branch abilities of a certain Wildfire Witch simultaneously, or instantly stacking one branch ability to level three, it meant a qualitative leap!
A subtle, uncontrollable tremor ran through her fingertips.
It wasn't fear, but the exhilaration of blood rushing faster through her veins.
The temptation was too great!
So great that it made her ignore the oppressive feeling brought by the cold "0/21" number.
However, the brief euphoria was forcibly suppressed.
Serie forced herself to calm down and began to weigh the pros and cons.
No matter how strong a Wildfire Witch was, she was ultimately flesh and blood.
The Control Bureau Soldiers were by no means easy to deal with; they were well-equipped, well-trained, not to mention numerous.
A precise bullet, a high-explosive grenade, or a successful encirclement… all could instantly extinguish this powerful Wildfire Witch.
If she won, she would be handsomely rewarded, and her strength would soar.
If she lost? Not only would the rewards vanish into thin air, but she would also lose the crucial trump card she held—the Wildfire Witch.
Conflicting thoughts swirled in her mind, but after only a few breaths, the hesitation in Serie's eyes was replaced by a stubborn resolve.
"Either take it all, or have nothing at all!"
She took a deep breath of the cold air, mixed with snow and a burnt smell, her tone full of determination.
If Serie's main body were free, she could develop steadily, but in her current situation, Serie could expose her identity as an anomaly at any time. If she continued to play it safe and timid, it would be tantamount to slow suicide.
Having made up her mind, Serie stared at the temporarily acquired "War Frenzy" in the information bar, lost in thought.
Minutes later, black tires crushed the snow at the forest's edge, emitting a harsh creaking sound.
Several armored vehicles, like a group of crawling steel beasts, stopped about a hundred meters from the burning prison van wreckage, at the edge of the forest.
Twenty-one Soldiers, dressed in dark gray cold-weather combat suits, wearing full-face helmets and Control Bureau insignias, filed out.
They moved swiftly, quickly fanning out without needing many commands, advancing cautiously in tactical formation towards the prison van.
Serie was prostrate behind a birch tree, the icy snow water seeping through her clothes onto her skin, but she felt no cold, for her heart was pounding in her chest, and the sound of blood rushing roared in her ears.
Adrenaline was already poised to strike.
She plunged her hands into the damp soil beneath the snow, watching the moving gray figures, like an army of ants walking step by step into a trap, getting closer and closer.
Closer and closer…