350: Chapter 350 Sensing Something Abnormal, Preparing to Respond

The night wind swept across the tip of the highest Psionic Tower in the main city, carrying a series of low-frequency hums.

An array of monitoring jade talismans formed a ring at the base of the tower, their faint blue light flowing quietly like a group of beasts dozing with their eyes closed.

Suddenly, the third jade talisman in the northwest corner flickered sharply, its light turning from blue to gray for less than half a breath before returning to normal.

No one saw it, and no one heard it—except for the intelligence officer who was currently inspecting the data stream.

His name was Li Sanshi, and he wore a Sound Collector salvaged from an old battlefield on his left ear, capable of picking up the slightest static within the fluctuations of Spiritual Qi.

He was munching on half a piece of dry biscuit, his cheeks bulging, while his fingers continued to tap on a recording board.

That soft "click" sounded like a crack forming in ice as it pierced his ears.

He stopped chewing.

"Something's wrong." He stuffed the biscuit back into his robe, leaned closer to the jade talisman array, and pulled up the previous waveform. "This frequency... it's not natural decay."

He quickly accessed the backup records from the Border Sentry Towers, his fingers swiping across the light screen to bring up the synchronized logs from the eastern, western, and northern towers.

Three sets of timestamps were lined up, each marking an identical blank segment—half an hour ago, lasting seven seconds, signal jammed.

"Man-made interference," he whispered, his brow furrowing into a knot. "And it's the kind that's targeted, timed, and precisely positioned."

Without a second thought, he grabbed a communication talisman and ran straight toward the Main Control Hall. His soles clattered against the metal stairs, sending muffled "thud-thud-thud" sounds echoing down through the levels.

The lights in the Main Control Hall were still on.

Chen Wuwang sat before the command console, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye scanning a holographic map of the entire region. His right index finger tapped the tabletop unconsciously, one beat at a time, in a steady rhythm.

He had just finished his daily routine inspection and intended to head back for a full night's sleep, but his eyelid wouldn't stop twitching, and the scar on his left cheek left by the Zerg was faintly throbbing.

The door creaked open a sliver, and Li Sanshi poked half his body in. "Patriarch, we have a situation."

Chen Wuwang looked up, his expression unchanged and his voice low. "Speak."

"Unnatural disturbances have appeared in the high-altitude Spiritual Qi currents. The frequency is abnormal and the duration was short, but all three sentry towers recorded signal jamming at the same time."

Li Sanshi took a breath. "I compared it with historical data; it doesn't look like a Yao Beast migration or a precursor to a thunderstorm. It's too clean, as if... someone intentionally wiped the traces."

Chen Wuwang's finger stopped.

He stared at a line of small text in the corner of the screen: "High-Altitude Monitoring Node-07: Brief signal interruption (Recovered)."

"Just one location?" he asked.

"Three locations, in a triangular distribution, covering the northwest to due north," Li Sanshi said, handing over the recording board. "Moreover, they are all in the high heavens, near the outer atmosphere. Ordinary aircraft can't reach that high, and Cultivators can't sustain themselves there for long."

Chen Wuwang took the board and glanced at the waveform graph. The line looked as if a section had been sliced off with a knife, the edges excessively neat.

He stood up, walked to the center of the main console, and pressed a hidden key.

The entire wall of monitoring screens switched instantly, with dozens of viewpoints simultaneously replaying footage from half an hour ago.

Using his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye, he advanced the footage frame by frame, his gaze locked onto the layer of clouds at the edge of the moon.

No image remained.

But he knew that some things simply wouldn't appear on screen.

"Restart the Spirit Array monitoring network," he said calmly. "Enable the version calibrated seven days ago and prioritize filling the high-altitude scanning blind spots. Shut down all non-essential external communication channels, including civilian message arrays and remote mining chains."

Li Sanshi was stunned for a moment. "Shut them all down? What about the West Mine..."

"Shut it down," Chen Wuwang interrupted. "Do it now."

"Yes, sir!" Li Sanshi turned to leave.

"Wait." Chen Wuwang called him back. "Notify the Technology Workshop and the Spiritual Vein entrance to implement double-post rotations, with shifts changing every two hours. Also, issue an announcement through the broadcast System—due to recent abnormal energy fluctuations, everyone is to suspend solo outings at night, and training groups are to switch to concentrated drills during the day."

Li Sanshi nodded as he took notes. "Should we alert the Council of Elders?"

"No need." Chen Wuwang shook his head. "We don't even know who the enemy is yet; waking up a bunch of people will only lead to chaos. Go carry out the orders. Report any new developments directly to me."

"Understood!"

The door closed, and the footsteps faded into the distance.

The hall fell silent once more.

Chen Wuwang stood in place, unmoving.

His Mechanical Prosthetic Eye was still running, archiving, tagging, and categorizing all reported data one by one. His fingers began tapping the table again, slightly faster than before.

"It seems trouble has found its way to our doorstep again," he whispered, his brow furrowed. His voice wasn't loud, but it felt like a stone dropping into a well.

He turned toward the console and pulled up the global defense protocol menu. His finger hovered over the "Basic Alert" option for a second before he clicked it.

"Hum—"

A low alarm sounded through the underground pipe network; it wasn't piercing, but it had immense penetrating power.

The rune arrays at every key node across the city lit up in sequence with a pale yellow glow, entering standby mode.

He watched as the defense network on the screen activated step by step, knowing full well that this wasn't a combat alarm—it was just a reminder to everyone not to let their guard down.

Outside, the wind continued to blow, the Martial Arts Arena was empty, and the streetlights by the Medicinal Field flickered. Everything seemed normal.

But he knew that some changes had already occurred.

He picked up his Communication Token and quickly drafted an order: "Postpone the assembly order; conduct an internal investigation first. I want to know about all abnormal energy consumption, unregistered spiritual power release points, and any records of deviations from routine patrol routes over the past twelve hours."

After sending it, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for three seconds.

When he opened them again, his gaze fell upon the main city's sand table model.

In the northwest direction, a shadow quietly emerged—not as a map annotation, but as a speculative area he had outlined in his mind.

"Come then," he muttered. "Let me see what you're up to."

He pressed another set of buttons, pulled up the mecha maintenance logs, and began reviewing the energy reserves of the main forces.

As he looked, he drew several lines on a piece of paper, as if performing calculations.

A few minutes later, Li Sanshi's voice came through the communication talisman: "Reporting to the Patriarch: the Spirit Array network has been restarted, and the three sentry towers have completed secondary calibration. The broadcast announcement has been issued, and all posts have confirmed receipt."

"Good," Chen Wuwang responded. "Keep watching, especially the high-altitude frequencies. Don't let even a sliver of static slip through."

"Yes, sir!"

The communication disconnected.

He stood up and walked to the window. Outside, the city lights were thinning out, with only a few high towers still illuminated.

In the distance, the cooling pipes of the Technology Workshop emitted white steam, like the breath of a sleeping behemoth.

He gazed at the night scene, neither smiling nor angry, just standing there quietly.

Then, he pulled out his personal dagger and lightly carved a mark on the edge of the command console.

It was shallow but clear.

This was his habit—whenever the situation was unclear, he would leave a physical mark to remind himself: the danger has not yet passed.

He turned and sat back down, opened his personal terminal, and typed in a line of command:

[Initiate covert recording protocol. Save all raw monitoring data streams for the next seventy-two hours. Encrypted storage; access restricted to self-unlock only.]

He pressed confirm.

The screen flashed with a green light.

He knew that the true contest often took place where no one could see.

And now, they had already begun to make their move.

He stared at that green light until it went out.

Only the faint light from his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye remained in the room, reflecting off his stern face.