Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Trialists

Fire-red streaks kept tearing through the night, lighting up the east gate. In midair, they formed a red archway that advanced slowly, cutting through mutant beasts as it moved.

“Seventh-seal combat power,” someone breathed.

Cultivators backed away instinctively, shaken.

“Found them,” a man said behind Hong Jian.

He stared at the screen in his hand and projected it onto the wall.

Everyone looked.

Not far outside Jin Ling Base, a man in fire-red armor fired arrows without pause—one after another at incredible speed.

Hong Jian’s gaze locked on the image. Who was this?

Aside from the Three Gods and Five Poles, even if a seventh-seal expert appeared, they shouldn’t have been this terrifying. Didn’t he get tired? Didn’t his energy run out?

And his armor…

It looked nothing like theirs. Exquisite. Alien in its craftsmanship.

At the east gate, the beast tide was nearly being held back by this man alone.

He slung his bow behind him and leapt upward. His whole body turned into a blazing red streak as he charged into the beast tide.

His movements were broad and simple—no flourish, no hesitation—yet each strike slaughtered mutant beasts. Cultivators watching from the wall were stunned.

Every punch and palm strike shattered the earth.

No one could stop him.

The ground glowed red, half-melted by heat.

The massive tide was cleaved apart by brute force.

Mutant beasts retreated, fear in their eyes.

Only then did the man turn toward Jin Ling Base. A faint smile curved his lips.

“I want to meet the highest authority here.”

Far to the east, Wang Jie didn’t know the crisis had been partially resolved.

He ran back at full speed.

No matter what happened, if the base fell, he still had to take Old Five and Old Nine with him—and also Si Yan.

Halfway through, he stopped.

A boy sat on a tree branch ahead, swinging his legs lazily as he watched Wang Jie with playful eyes.

Wang Jie stared at him, a strange wrongness rising in his chest.

It wasn’t just the boy.

It was the way he fit into this world.

Like a delicate ancient ornament placed in the middle of a ruined apocalypse city.

“Native,” the boy said flatly, voice so emotionless it barely sounded human, “leave the egg and get lost.”

Wang Jie glanced around, measuring the area. Not far away, the forest looked like it had been bombed, leaving a crater. No hidden enemies he could sense.

He looked back at the boy. “Are you talking to me?”

“Who else?”

“Where’s your lord?”

The boy’s eyes turned cold. He pinched a leaf between two fingers and flicked it.

The leaf left a green afterimage as it shot toward Wang Jie’s forehead.

Wang Jie’s eyes widened.

Too fast.

He tilted his head. The leaf scraped his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.

The boy hadn’t expected him to dodge. He smiled. “Interesting. Let’s see how much you’ve learned.”

He raised his hand, grabbed a handful of leaves, and flicked them all at once.

A rain of blades sealed every direction.

The moment he moved, it was a killing strike.

He’d never intended to let Wang Jie live.

Killing intent flashed in Wang Jie’s eyes. Who was this?

How was someone like this outside Jin Ling Base?

So young. So ruthless.

Even more abnormal than Wang Jie himself.

Wang Jie tossed the egg into the grass and stepped forward. His body weaved as he charged.

The boy sneered. “Movement technique. No wonder you dodged. But you won’t dodge forever.”

The boy jumped down, gaze shifting. Found it.

A current completely different from imprint power spread through his body and coated his fingers.

He reached out to grab. “Come out.”

Wang Jie’s eyes narrowed.

Sixth-seal combat power.

And he’d seen through Wang Jie’s movement technique.

Wang Jie stayed calm. He stepped left with his left foot, and his body appeared on the right.

The boy startled and adjusted.

Wang Jie stepped right with his right foot—and appeared behind him.

“Jia Eight Steps?” the boy blurted, shock cracking his composure. “How is that possible?”

He spun and slammed out with a palm.

Wang Jie had already taken a third step and appeared right in front of where the boy had been.

Because the boy was mid-strike, his back was exposed.

Wang Jie drove both palms into it.

The impact hit hard.

The boy vomited blood and whirled, eyes blazing. “You’re courting death!”

His inner current spiraled and blasted Wang Jie backward.

Wang Jie skidded, chest tightening.

Something was off.

The power the boy cultivated wasn’t just different from imprint power—it was different from Wang Jie’s as well.

The boy struck with both hands, palms tearing through the air in every direction. Each blow shattered earth and twisted the air itself. No matter how Wang Jie shifted, the pressure followed.

Wang Jie retreated and widened the distance, slipping past the palm shadows by a hair.

Then he lifted one finger.

Spiral qi force pierced through the palm shadows and stabbed into the boy’s body.

The strike landed on the same line as before—front and back aligned—so the finger thrust punched straight through him.

Even that strange inner current couldn’t block it.

The boy went rigid, horrified.

This finger technique…

Wang Jie surged in to finish it.

The boy tried to retreat but stumbled. The injury was too deep. His mouth opened, desperation spilling out.

“You can’t kill me—I’m—”

Wang Jie didn’t let him finish.

He stepped, appeared behind him, and slammed a palm into the back of the boy’s head.

Bone cracked. The boy dropped, dead.

Only then did Wang Jie sag, sitting on the ground without dignity, breath ragged.

How much had happened in one night?

None of these fights had been simple.

He stared at the corpse. What had the boy been about to say?

There’d been no time to find out. Giving him a chance to speak was giving him a chance to counterattack.

Still…

That cultivation method was completely different from anything Wang Jie knew.

Was it something created by another base?

The boy’s identity couldn’t be ordinary.

Wang Jie coughed twice, wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, and searched him.

A ring.

Exquisitely made—the kind of thing that looked valuable at a glance.

Nothing else.

And his clothing…

Wang Jie’s expression tightened. He’d never seen material like this.

Even in the old world, could anyone make fabric this thin and yet this tough? If Wang Jie’s finger strike hadn’t been strong enough, it might not have pierced the clothes at all.

The boy was too strange.

Wang Jie glanced toward Jin Ling Base, then made a decision.

He burned the corpse.

Better it vanished than be found.

He also needed rest. Without it, he might not even have the strength to travel back.

Afterward, he retrieved the egg and continued toward Jin Ling Base.

Sunlight spilled slowly over the ground, casting his shadow long ahead.

Before he entered the base, he hid the egg outside—down an elevator shaft in a worn-out building—then headed for the gates.

Along the way, people scavenged for disaster materials among the countless mutant corpses. The chance of finding anything worthwhile was low, but desperation made gamblers out of everyone.

“Everything got melted.”

“Who was that guy? That was insane.”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” someone snapped. “The Captain killed the hawk. Otherwise, you think the tide would’ve retreated that easily? But that guy really was strong. He even melted stone.”

Wang Jie listened, eyes narrowing.

Another expert had appeared?

He entered through the east gate. Inside, people were being pushed outward, the streets choked with confusion and shouting.

A mess.

But if the base held, then Old Five and the others should be alive.

Wang Jie didn’t want to do anything. He wanted sleep.

He started toward his place in the Wastewater Zone, then reconsidered. With the Zhao family’s Eldest Young Master dead, the Zhao clan would investigate. They might come looking for him.

He slipped through side streets, changed clothes, and headed into the Clean Zone instead.

He would sleep at Old Five’s place first.

He arrived at Ming He Road 17, greeted Old Five and Old Nine, and went straight to bed.

He slept almost a full day.

When he finally opened his eyes, the sun was setting again.

Darkness crept over the base.

Wang Jie went outside.

Old Nine sat on the balcony reading. Downstairs, Old Five coughed in the yard.

“Si Yan still hasn’t treated Old Five?” Wang Jie asked.

Old Nine lowered the book. “No.”

“I’ll go take a look.”

“Old Boss,” Old Nine said quietly, worry in their voice, “are you okay?”

Wang Jie smiled faintly. “Why wouldn’t I be? Relax.”

He went downstairs, spoke briefly with Old Five, then crossed to Number 18.

The place was even more chaotic than before.

“Why haven’t you treated Old Five yet?” Wang Jie demanded.

A scruffy-looking man—Si Yan—didn’t look up from his equipment. “Why the rush? If I’m not one hundred percent sure, I won’t touch it.”

Wang Jie coughed once, throat raw. “You’d better hurry. It feels like things outside are only getting worse.”

Si Yan finally lifted his head and squinted at Wang Jie. “You look like garbage. Honestly, I should treat you first. If you die, who’s going to bring me good stuff?”

Wang Jie met his gaze. “What are the odds?”

“Twenty percent.”

“If it was ten out of ten—even eight out of ten—I’d do it,” Wang Jie said flatly. “But twenty percent is basically the same as failure. Treat Old Five first.”

Then he paused. “I got an egg. Is it useful?”

Si Yan’s eyes sharpened instantly. “What egg?”

“A hawk egg.”

Si Yan snapped upright, staring at Wang Jie as if he’d lost his mind. “You got the hawk egg? Where is it? Bring it to me. Now.”

Wang Jie blinked. “It helps?”

“Of course it helps.” Si Yan sounded almost feverish. “It’s an egg. Better than any disaster material—and it’s a hawk’s. That’s one of the strongest species after the disaster. With that, my odds of treating you go up another twenty percent.”

Wang Jie understood. He turned to leave. “I’ll bring it soon.”

“Hurry up,” Si Yan barked after him. “I’m afraid you’ll die, little kid.”

Wang Jie stepped out into the night and didn’t go back immediately.

Old Five’s situation could wait a little longer.

What worried him more now was Old Nine—and everything else closing in around them.

He glanced back toward Number 17.

Old Nine was watching him from the balcony.

Wang Jie turned away and went to find Feng Yu.

Since last night’s beast tide began, Feng Yu hadn’t rested. Tonight, she finally had a moment to lie down, bones aching with exhaustion.

She was just about to close her eyes when she sat up abruptly and turned.

A figure stood outside the window.

“Who is it?” she snapped.

“You should’ve reported it already,” the figure said. “About Hu Guan.”

Feng Yu stared at the shadow. “You’re the one who killed Hu Guan. Who are you?”

“Who I am doesn’t matter.” The voice was calm. “What matters is how much you reported to Hong Jian.”

“What do you mean?”

She had reported—part of it. She’d told them the South Base had people hunting Hu Guan, and that Hu Guan had stolen hibiscus tears. That much couldn’t be hidden.

But she hadn’t mentioned her repeated trips into the wild. She hadn’t mentioned that she’d encountered Hu Guan before.

She couldn’t.

“Give me the wolf king’s three eyes,” the figure said. “Hu Guan will never be connected to you again. Otherwise, Hong Jian will find out you met Hu Guan.”

Feng Yu’s heart dropped.

A fish-shaped dart slid into her hand.

She wanted to strike—but then she remembered their last exchange.

She wasn’t his match.

This person had used her Feng Yu dart to create the illusion that Hu Guan died by her hand. Hu Guan’s body was gone. Without it, how could anyone confirm the connection?

A photo of a corpse?

Useless.

She had countless ways to explain that away—unless there was real evidence.

Then she remembered the Feng Yu dart she’d lost.

Had it been left at the scene?

Back then, she hadn’t searched carefully. If she went out now, it would raise Hong Jian’s suspicion.

And she couldn’t send subordinates either.

In this world, you couldn’t trust anyone.

“You’re too late,” Feng Yu said tightly. “The wolf king’s three eyes were taken by someone else.”

The figure’s finger twitched. “I don’t care who took them. You will bring them to me. Or else.”

“I can’t,” Feng Yu said. “The trialists who drove off the beast tide took them.”

“Trialists?”

Wang Jie had never heard that word before.