116: Chapter 116 Deepening Tremendability, Undercurrents Surge

The sound of drilling echoed continuously at the entrance of the mine shaft, like a low murmur from the earth's slumber.

Chen Wuwang didn't move. His pen tip hovered over the "Crystal Plate Priority" column of the Resource Weekly, the ink about to drop but not yet falling.

The old scar on his right cheek had long since cooled, but his fingers were still tapping—three short, one long, once, and then again, making the desk tremble slightly.

Outside the window, the red light of the patrol mecha swept across the night sky, as rhythmic as breathing.

The Alliance operated as usual: transport vehicles shuttled back and forth, the temperature-controlled sheds of the Medicinal Fields glowed with soft light, and the drill at the mine entrance gnawed at the rock layers with a steady, powerful sound.

Everything was normal.

But he knew that some things had changed.

After the last batch of visitors left, the System generated a Visitor Behavior Analysis Briefing, suggesting strengthened patrols and the initiation of public opinion monitoring. He had followed those suggestions.

But that briefing only recorded surface appearances, and right now, there was an indescribable sense of stagnation in the air, as if someone was watching from the shadows—not speaking, not acting, just waiting for you to breathe a sigh of relief.

He put down his pen and circled the emphasis mark heavily.

Just then, a slight vibration came from the hallway.

It wasn't the sound of footsteps, but the unique frequency of tracks rolling over an encrypted passage.

A Worker Ant Mecha, which should have been returning to standby after completing its warehouse task, suddenly turned into a hidden passage on the east side, its body flashing as it disappeared into a surveillance blind spot.

Five breaths later, a Night Watch Boy pushed open the door and entered, head bowed, holding a fingernail-sized transparent chip in his hands, presenting it to the desk.

"Just delivered."

"No name left."

Chen Wuwang didn't ask who it was. He knew this line—it was exclusive to Shadow Seven.

The deepest nail in the intelligence network, it had only sent messages four times in three years, and each time was a signal of approaching killing intent.

With a flick of his finger, he embedded the chip into the terminal interface.

The screen went black for a moment.

Immediately, a blurry afterimage appeared—a figure wrapped in a gray robe, back to the camera, voice kept extremely low and coming through intermittently:

"Three Northern Tribes... Black Rock Valley secret meeting... Agenda labeled 'De-Chen-ization'... West line trade route intercepted anonymous order... Bulk purchase of Interference Runes... Source unknown... Transaction settled with dead accounts... Cannot trace the head..."

The screen flickered, and the afterimage raised a hand, drawing an inverted triangle symbol in the air, followed by three dots arranged in the shape of the character 'Pin'.

"They want to cut off raw materials, disrupt the System, and spread rumors... Three steps... Already started... Beware of moles..."

As the last words fell, the image abruptly died, and the chip exploded into powder with a "pop," the fragments falling onto the paper like a layer of fine snow.

Chen Wuwang sat without moving.

The room was so quiet that the hum of the terminal's cooling fan could be heard. He stared at the pile of powder, his mind already racing.

Three Northern Tribes? The Wen, Liu, and He clans had long since signed a covenant; it couldn't be them.

It must be the more distant Red Ridge, Barren Bone, and Iron Skull Clans, who had always defied Alliance rules and lived by plundering.

Their daring to touch Interference Runes indicated they had someone backing them—at least someone who understood Spirit Arrays providing technical support.

"De-Chen-ization"? What arrogance. Did they want to dismantle this entire System, or did they just want him, the Family Head, to disappear?

He pulled up the System interface.

Three heavenly secret instructions generated at midnight floated quietly:

Tomorrow at the hour of Chen, a slight tremor in the rock layers on the west side of the mine shaft;

Chen Xiaodao's Sword Intent will fluctuate abnormally in three days; a defense against Heart Demon backlash needs to be set up in advance;

The PH value of the energy hub coolant will deviate from the standard range by 0.7 within six days.

The second instruction involved Chen Xiaodao, but since he was no longer in this chapter's action sequence, it could not be expanded upon according to the rules. The third could be recorded for future scheduling and not handled for now.

The first one—a slight tremor in the rock layers on the west side of the mine shaft.

He narrowed his eyes.

A tremor in the rock layers? Natural? Or man-made? If the enemy used the tremor as cover to infiltrate, the timing was too coincidental. It was exactly at the start of the Chen hour, when the shift change was most lax.

With a swipe of his right hand, he pulled up the 3D structural diagram of the mine shaft and zoomed in on the western area.

The Mechanical Prosthetic Eye automatically overlaid geological scan data; rock layer density, fissure orientation, and groundwater levels were all presented one by one.

Everything seemed normal, but at three hundred meters underground, the signal feedback from a small section of the guidance array was delayed by 0.3 seconds.

Minute.

But enough.

He immediately accessed the communication link, and instructions were issued level by level:

"Order: Activate the Earth Vein Resonance Array in level two alert mode, offset the frequency by 0.5 Hz to simulate natural fluctuations, and do not alert anyone."

"Increase the patrol drone formation to double shifts, focusing on covering the mine shaft exit, Energy Pylons, and the perimeter of the Artifact Refining Workshop. Randomize flight paths; fixed routes are prohibited."

"Enable level three public opinion monitoring. Back up all external transaction logs in real-time. Any abnormal price inquiries, delayed deliveries, or individuals with intense emotions are to be marked and archived."

"Immediately transfer the core code segments of the Artifact Refining Workshop to the server cluster on the seventh underground level. Physically isolate them, with access limited only to myself and the Chief Dispatcher."

"From today onwards, non-registered personnel are not allowed within five hundred meters of the energy hub. Re-verify the identity codes of all shift personnel and replace any suspects."

With every instruction sent, a receipt flickered on the terminal. His actions were decisive, without a single redundant word.

After finishing these, he stood up, donned his outer armor, and walked toward the Alliance Platform.

The night wind was a bit colder than before.

He climbed to the highest point, and his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye automatically switched to scan mode; Spiritual Qi fluctuations, heat source distribution, and equipment operation status all entered his field of vision.

The mine shaft was brightly lit, the track cars in the Medicinal Fields came and went, and the green light of the Alchemy Workshop remained on; everything was in perfect order.

But his pupils still constricted slightly.

Intuition.

It wasn't the kind of danger data could tell you about, but an instinct honed from crawling out of ruins and watching clansmen die one by one in insect swarms—someone was moving, but they were hidden too deep, not yet striking, just waiting for you to lose your composure.

He turned and walked down the steps, returned to the stone table, and drew the Titanium Alloy Dagger from his waist.

The blade flashed with a cold light as he slowly carved three symbols into the stone surface:

The first was a skewed gear, representing a 'feint'—if the enemy wants to chaos me, I'll let them see an even greater chaos.

The second was crossed eyes, representing 'counter-espionage'—moles? Then release some false intelligence and see who bites the hook.

The third was a coiled snake, representing 'dormancy'—if I don't move, you won't dare move either. Then we'll wait and see who runs out of patience first.

After carving, he sheathed his dagger and whispered, "Want to cut off the raw materials? Then let's see who runs out of patience first."

As his voice fell, the sound of drilling at the distant mine entrance suddenly stopped for a moment.

Then it rang out again, the rhythm unchanged and the force undiminished, as if nothing had happened.

He didn't look back.

He just stood there, looking at the door of the Main Administration Hall that was always lit, and slowly walked back.

The terminal screen scrolled with the latest round of patrol data, line after line passing by—quiet, stable, and continuous.

He sat down, picked up his teacup, and blew on it.

The tea was cold.

But he didn't change it.