115: Chapter 115 Perspective, Opening Up a New Perspective

West City, Alien Disaster Division.

Six armored vehicles were parked at the entrance.

The main gate was askew.

The latch on the iron gate had been forcibly ripped off, and half of the door panel hung from the hinges, swaying and creaking as the wind blew through.

Su Ming landed at the entrance.

His Wind Blade wings dissipated.

He stood for a second.

Then he lifted his foot and stepped inside.

There were no lights in the hallway.

Several fluorescent tubes on the ceiling had been smashed, and only one remained lit, emitting a buzzing electrical sound. The light flickered, illuminating a long, dragged trail of blood on the floor.

The bloodstain extended from the hallway all the way to the cafeteria.

It was intermittent in the middle.

Someone had been dragged, then struggled to crawl up, only to collapse again.

Su Ming followed the bloodstain inside.

The cafeteria.

Tables and chairs were all overturned.

The table he used to sit at by the window had one leg broken and was tilted in the corner.

Broken bowls and plates were scattered on the floor, and food was smeared everywhere, sticking to the soles of one's shoes when stepped on.

There was a fist-sized dent on the wall, with blood spattered beside it.

Su Ming crouched down.

A broken tooth was wedged in the gap between the floor tiles.

He picked it up to look at it, then put it back.

He continued walking inside.

The archives room.

The door was gone, and even the door frame had been split. Metal filing cabinets were overturned on the floor, and the files inside were scattered everywhere, showing signs of having been searched.

Su Ming took a glance.

The dormitory building.

The belongings of nineteen people were still there; the beds hadn't been tidied up. One bed still had half a deck of cards spread out, with two half-drunk cans of beer placed beside it.

The beer cans had tipped over.

The liquid flowed onto the bedsheets, soaking into a dark stain that mingled with the dried bloodstains nearby, making it impossible to tell which was beer and which was blood.

The voices of Ye Qingluan and the others discussing something came from the backyard.

Su Ming braced himself against the railing and leaped down.

Behind him, the Wind Blade wings flashed and vanished.

His feet landed on the ground.

Silently, he walked toward the group.

Ghost Blade's eyes lit up. "Boss."

Everyone turned their heads to look.

"Qin Tian."

"Here."

"What's the result?"

Qin Tian spoke up.

"We are still tracking Deputy Director Liu Jianming's location. The backdoor to the Public Security Bureau's intranet has been closed; he should have already fled."

"However, we tracked down that group of vipers. They didn't run. They are in the landslide zone in West City, at the abandoned electroplating factory. There are seventeen of them, all present."

"Good, keep investigating."

Su Ming nodded.

Expressionless, he said, "I will go myself."

Ghost Blade looked at Su Ming's profile.

He opened his mouth but didn't dare speak.

He was too familiar with Su Ming in this state.

The last time Su Ming had this expression, the entire direct line of the Lu family had been slaughtered, not even leaving a dog behind.

...

At the same time.

East City.

In front of the Wilderness Suppression Bureau headquarters.

The footsteps of two Thunder Guardians approached from a distance.

"Thud!"

"Thud!"

"Thud!"

The ground was shaking.

The two guards on duty instinctively tightened their grip on their guns.

A six-meter-tall, grayish-brown rock giant turned the corner from the end of the street.

Arcs of lightning crackled at its joints.

Its steps were heavy and steady.

It stopped ten meters in front of the Wilderness Suppression Bureau gate.

The giant rock hand slowly lowered, gently placing the four people on the ground.

Then...

"Hum!"

The rocks crumbled, and the lightning arcs dissipated.

The two Thunder Guardians disintegrated simultaneously, turning into rubble and electrical arcs that vanished into the air.

The moment Brother Biao's feet touched the ground, he almost couldn't stand.

He turned back abruptly.

Behind him, it was empty.

The rubble on the ground was still emitting faint traces of lightning, like the residue of fireworks that had just finished burning.

The giant hand that had firmly supported him two seconds ago was just gone.

Gone?

It appeared out of thin air and vanished out of thin air.

This... this wasn't a Puppet!

Puppets have cores, spiritual energy fluctuations, and control circuits.

This thing... it was alive!

It had judgment.

It acted autonomously after receiving orders, with no one controlling it remotely the entire time.

What kind of god-like method was this?

Brother Biao's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

He turned his head back with difficulty and looked at the gate before him.

Wilderness Suppression Bureau.

The three characters were carved into the lintel, the strokes deep, as if chiseled in one by one with a knife.

Eleven years.

The last time he stood in front of this gate, he was wearing a Wilderness Suppression Bureau uniform.

Standing before this gate again, he was wearing the tattered, blood-stained work uniform of the Alien Disaster Division.

Brother Biao paced back and forth on the spot.

Three steps to the left, three steps to the right, then three steps to the left...

Lame Old Six lay on the ground, gasping in pain.

He looked up and felt a surge of anger.

"What the hell are you circling like a donkey at a mill for?"

"Shut up!"

Brother Biao cursed in a low voice and looked toward the gate again.

The two guards had already walked over, holding their guns.

"Stop."

The voice wasn't loud, but their backs were straight.

The muzzles were lowered, held at a standard forty-five-degree angle at their sides.

They could raise their guns and fire at any moment.

Brother Biao shrank his neck.

He shouldn't have come if he had known.

He looked at his brothers behind him again...

Lame Old Six had a broken leg, Scrawny was unconscious, and Silent Jar's ten fingers were mostly ruined.

Could he not come?

No.

Brother Biao bit the bullet and took a step forward.

His throat felt as tight as if someone were choking him.

"Su... Su Ming told us to come."

His voice was weak.

The end of his sentence trembled.

He didn't know if it would work, but he had no choice; he had to treat a dead horse as if it were alive.

The two guards exchanged glances.

Su Ming?

The expression of the guard on the left changed.

It didn't become polite; it became one of deep respect.

He withdrew his hand holding the gun and straightened his back even further.

"Wait a moment, I'll report this."

He turned and ran three meters away, muttering something into the device on his shoulder.

Brother Biao was stunned.

What kind of reaction was that?

This attitude just from hearing Su Ming's name?

Should I have said Su Ming is my brother?

Before he could figure it out...

A figure walked quickly from inside the gate.

The strides were large.

Urgent.

He was burly, his rough hands swinging at his sides, creating a breeze.

Wang Meng.

He rushed to the entrance and saw Brother Biao at a glance, his steps pausing for half a second.

"Old Biao?"

Brother Biao was dumbfounded.

His old comrade-in-arms, whom he hadn't seen for eleven years, was standing right in front of him.

His face had twice as many wrinkles as before, and his temples were completely white.

But those eyes were the same as ever... filled with a rough, unrefined energy despite the cloudiness.

"Old Wang..."

Brother Biao's lips trembled.

A thousand words were stuck in his throat, and in the end, only two words popped out.

Wang Meng didn't waste words.

He swept his eyes behind Brother Biao.

He saw Lame Old Six's broken leg, the indentation on the back of Scrawny's head, and Silent Jar's purple-black fingers.

His expression darkened.

He turned his head and roared into the guard post.

"Prepare the medical pods! Four people! Critically injured!"

"They are Brother Ming's people!"

Less than three seconds after his voice went inside, seven or eight people rushed out of the guard post, each running faster than the last.

"Brother Ming's people? Which ones? Where?"

"Come, come, lift them up, gently, gently, don't touch that broken leg!"

"Brother, don't move, don't move, I'll carry you..."

"Who has a first aid kit? Bring me mine!"

"You bastards, who the hell is stealing my people!"

Four or five people surrounded Lame Old Six, deftly putting him on a stretcher.

Scrawny was carefully lifted by two strong men, who were afraid of touching the indentation on the back of his head; their hands were as steady as if they were holding porcelain.

Silent Jar stood there, holding his left hand with his right, without making a sound.

An old veteran trotted over.

"Brother, can you move?"

Silent Jar's mouth moved.

"I..."

"It's good if you can't, uh, I mean, with us here, you can rest assured..."

He patted his chest.

Then he turned his head abruptly and yelled behind him, "Brothers, there's another one who slipped through the net here!"

Seven or eight Wilderness Suppression Bureau soldiers who hadn't managed to grab anyone swarmed over.

Silent Jar was half-forced onto a stretcher.

Brother Biao stood there.

He was in a state of system crash.

He watched these Wilderness Suppression Bureau people bustling around his brothers; the level of enthusiasm was even more attentive than serving their own fathers.

The four words 'Brother Ming's people' were like a security clearance password, flattening all obstacles.

Wang Meng patted his shoulder.

"Let's go, inside."

"...Can I go in?"

"Don't talk nonsense."

Brother Biao followed Wang Meng inside.

After walking two steps, he couldn't resist his curiosity and lowered his voice.

"Old Wang."

"Hmm?"

"What position does Brother Ming hold now?"

Wang Meng turned his head and glanced at him.

"Action Team Captain?" Brother Biao asked tentatively.

Wang Meng laughed but didn't answer.

Brother Biao swallowed his saliva.

"Owl Dragon?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he shook his head violently.

Impossible!

An Owl Dragon captain must be at least Fourth Realm.

How long has Su Ming been in the Wilderness Suppression Bureau?

He thought again, and a more outrageous guess popped into his head.

"Could it be... someone close to Deputy Division Chief Chen Zhan? The personal assistant type?"

Wang Meng's footsteps stopped.

He turned around.

Looking at Brother Biao's face, which was full of anxiety, he smiled until crow's feet crinkled the corners of his eyes.

"Old Biao."

"Yeah?"

Wang Meng raised his hand, extended it in front of him, and spread his fingers.

"Perspective, broaden your perspective."