As Cobra’s tear-jerking singing echoed through the room, Swallow’s eyes darted about, finally showing a hint of life. She took a deep breath, then suddenly spat fiercely in this direction.
Smack—the spit hit the glass, then slid down, leaving a trail of hatred. Cobra just burst out laughing: "Yes, yes, that’s the spirit! Come on, do it again!"
Watching Cobra, who was having a blast waving his hands like he was teasing a cat and shouting, "Spit here! Spit here!" the attendant hesitated for a while before finally asking a question that was weighing on his mind: "Boss, there’s something I’d like to ask. It’s about Major Sting."
"Hmm?" Cobra stopped what he was doing and looked at him. "You sure have a lot of questions."
The attendant bowed his head. "I’m anxious, sir."
"Alright, alright, just ask." Cobra quickly finished off his apple, leaving just the core. "You want to know how promising our dear Major Sting’s collaboration with the higher-ups really is, right?"
The attendant bowed again. "You’re wise, boss." Then he lifted his face and said earnestly, "Major Sting is a third-generation elite with deep roots and close ties to the higher-ups—a foundation of mutual trust. Not long after Major Sting volunteered himself, he and the higher-ups quickly reached an agreement and struck out on their own, and before long, things were booming."
"Just recently, Major Sting cracked a major biochemical attack case and stopped a catastrophic terrorist assault. There’s no way the higher-ups didn’t acknowledge that, and I’d bet their cooperation with the Chosen Ones is heading for a honeymoon phase. But Major Sting’s philosophy is totally at odds with ours—the closer he and the higher-ups get, the worse it is for you, boss."
"Boss, forgive my bluntness. In my view, Major Sting is bold and clever, fearless and shrewd—there’s no way he’ll stay oblivious to our actions forever. Plus, he’s in the Top Thirty of the Heavenly List, an absolute powerhouse that few can counter. If he really comes for you… uh… to ‘settle the score,’ I’m afraid none of us could stop him."
"So, I just want to know, boss—what’s your plan for this?"
The island wasn’t large, no bigger than three football fields. It was a nameless speck—so dull even pirates ignored it. But now, you could see from five nautical miles out, the place was locked down tight by a swarm of steel warships. These fleets came from different countries, flying different flags, and the tension between them was thick enough to slice.
Like a pack of hungry tigers fighting over scraps, each one glaring daggers at the others.
And on that tiny island, there was a small black dot. Cobra’s eyes lit up with fanatic excitement as he stared at it.
"Look at these clueless folks, still acting like they’re fighting over treasure! They think their only rivals are each other, because deep down, they believe they’ve already got the Black Death Emperor in the bag—hahaha, what a joke!"
"But you can’t really blame them. After all, hearing is believing, seeing is the real deal. What happened in Shanghai—whether on paper or by word of mouth—just can’t be fully conveyed. The real point of the Shanghai incident isn’t the mutated monsters or the casualties. The higher-ups don’t know the truth, but you and I, as witnesses, should understand: the real essence is simple—an unbeatable individual has appeared on this planet!"
"No country, no force, can handle him!"
"And as for the other Chosen Ones, who’s to say they won’t reach that same jaw-dropping level someday?"
This chapter isn’t over yet~.~ Click next page to keep reading the good stuff!
"I think, where there’s one, there’ll be two. Life always finds a way, like grass breaking through rock."
Cobra kept zooming in on the photo, sharpening the image, until finally that black dot became a blurry human figure. You could tell, the Emperor in black just sat there in the island’s dead center, unmoving as a mountain, timeless as history, making all those steel armies look like nothing.
"The Black Death Emperor, what a character! His moves are subtle these days. He’s got every country’s eyes glued to him, stirring up international nerves and tying up all the big shots’ attention. But by sitting there, doing nothing, he keeps everyone guessing. If anyone makes a move, all the countries will jump them, so nobody dares. And if nobody acts, they’ll never know how strong he really is. So now, we’re stuck in this weird, delicate balance."
"But how long can this balance, this fragile peace, really last? There are always idiots in the world—always someone itching to be the first to jump out and stir up trouble."
"That day isn’t far off."
"Once it starts, nobody will be able to stop."
"Once it starts, do we really need to worry about Major Sting? Just open your arms wide and get ready for the day our ‘gun’ really goes big!"
Cobra suddenly started acting like a kid with a fever dream—cackling and pretending to dance all fancy, spinning left and right, having the time of his life, face lit up with pure joy. He gave the control knob a dramatic twist, and the huge machine spun, black and white flashing like day and night chasing each other.
Bright cubicles, sturdy racks, men and women of all ages, freaky experiments—all paraded past like a carousel. Behind the glass, those massive facilities looked like a spider’s lair, sending chills down your spine.
After spinning enough, Cobra pointed at the attendant, his smile turning sly and mischievous: "So, my trusty sidekick, do you know what we’re supposed to do now?"
The attendant answered seriously, "I understand, boss. For now, we do nothing."
"Nonsense! Do nothing? How could you be that clueless? Listen, the only civil servants with a future are the ones who know how to write reports. You’ve been with me this long and still don’t get the basics?" Cobra wagged a finger, and behind those thick goggles, something seemed to be boiling: "We—are going to write another report…"
"Uh..."
"Alright, alright, don’t just stand there—get going! And remember, make it as exaggerated as last time, make it as scary as you can! Also, don’t forget we’re national heroes now, use that media power!" Cobra calmed down and spun the magician’s grid again. The attendant left, catching a glimpse of something swelling and wriggling in the young man’s chest.
Before closing the gate, he heard the boss’s last muttered words: "Top thirty on the Heavenly List—wish I could experiment on him. Just wish I knew what he’s been up to lately…"
Alright, enough about that side—let’s swing the camera back to Jiping City.
Three days later, Jill Young received some intel. This one was different—totally old-school, written on paper.
No tech, no network involved—a Chosen One had trekked miles just to deliver it. The messenger never showed their face, dodged every security camera, and carefully tossed a totally ordinary paper airplane into the agreed spot.
A few minutes later, Jill strolled over, waved her hand, and the paper airplane floated up and landed in her palm. With a quick flick, it unfolded—just a blank sheet of paper, nothing special. But Jill knew the trick, because Paladin had explained everything to her back in Hong Kong.
Everything—the paper airplane, the timing, the place, the process—had been planned out by Xiao Jingzhe himself. And Jill knew exactly how to read the letter.
"If he can pull off stuff this precise, that guy’s definitely getting stronger. Not bad, not bad." Jill focused her energy, sending a tiny but pure burst of inner strength into the paper. Instantly, a blaze of light flashed—like a bunch of fireworks going off. The light vanished as quickly as it came, and the paper turned to ash, like it had a self-destruct feature if cracked wrong.
But that was all part of the anti-leak setup—Xiao Jingzhe knew full well that with Jill’s sharp eyes, she’d catch his message in that split second.
There were just two big words on it:
HELP
ME
Alright, enough about that side—let’s swing the camera back to Jiping City.
Three days later, Jill Young received some intel. This one was different—totally old-school, written on paper.
No tech, no network involved—a Chosen One had trekked miles just to deliver it. The messenger never showed their face, dodged every security camera, and carefully tossed a totally ordinary paper airplane into the agreed spot.
A few minutes later, Jill strolled over, waved her hand, and the paper airplane floated up and landed in her palm. With a quick flick, it unfolded—just a blank sheet of paper, nothing special. But Jill knew the trick, because Paladin had explained everything to her back in Hong Kong.
Everything—the paper airplane, the timing, the place, the process—had been planned out by Xiao Jingzhe himself. And Jill knew exactly how to read the letter.
"If he can pull off stuff this precise, that guy’s definitely getting stronger. Not bad, not bad." Jill focused her energy, sending a tiny but pure burst of inner strength into the paper. Instantly, a blaze of light flashed—like a bunch of fireworks going off. The light vanished as quickly as it came, and the paper turned to ash, like it had a self-destruct feature if cracked wrong.
But that was all part of the anti-leak setup—Xiao Jingzhe knew full well that with Jill’s sharp eyes, she’d catch his message in that split second.
There were just two big words on it:
HELP
ME