404: Chapter 404 The Battle Ends, Chen Wuwang Interrogates the Prisoners

The morning wind swept through the valley, carrying the scent of scorched earth and blood rust.

Chen Wuwang stood outside the command tent, one foot resting on the overturned wreckage of a mecha, the sole of his boot crushing a piece of congealed black blood.

He didn't enter immediately; instead, he reached up to pull off the dark brown cloak from his shoulder and tossed it casually into a nearby brazier that was half-burned out.

"Whoosh—"

The flames surged upward, casting flickering light across half of his face.

The three claw marks left by the Zerg on his right cheek seemed to come alive in the firelight, twitching slightly.

He stared at the flames for two seconds before turning to lift the tent flap and stepping inside.

Inside the tent, five people knelt on the ground with their hands tied behind their backs. Their heads were bowed, and none dared to look up.

The air was as stifling as if a slab of iron were pressing down, with only the sound of heavy, ragged breathing echoing one after another.

Chen Wuwang didn't take the seat of honor, nor did he speak.

With his hands behind his back, he paced from left to right and then back again. The sound of his boot heels clicking against the dirt floor was steady and terrifyingly deliberate.

No one dared to move.

He stopped behind the young prisoner on the far right.

"Back in the valley, there was a youth with nothing left but two severed legs, still trying to crawl," he suddenly spoke, his voice low but sharp as a knife scraping against bone. "He said, 'I don't want to die.'"

The prisoner’s shoulders jolted violently.

"I killed him," Chen Wuwang continued, his tone as calm as if he were discussing what he had for dinner last night. "Because I know—as long as people like you are alive, you will pick up a blade again."

As the words fell, he turned abruptly and stepped directly in front of the five men, his eyes scanning them. "Now, tell me, who sent you?"

No one answered.

Some had teeth chattering, some had sweat on their foreheads, and some had eyes darting around, but no one opened their mouth.

Chen Wuwang narrowed his eyes. He slowly raised his right hand and tapped the hilt of his dagger with his fingertips, once, then twice.

"Speak," he uttered a single word.

Finally, the young man on the far right looked up, trembling, his lips pale. "It... it was a mysterious organization... We don't know their background either..."

"The name?" Chen Wuwang asked.

"No... no name..." The young man shook his head. "Orders are received through black market Messengers... Once the token is destroyed, all clues are lost... We really don't know who it is..."

"That's right! We were forced!" another middle-aged prisoner chimed in. "The order came from above; if we didn't comply, our entire families would die!"

"Shut up," Chen Wuwang said flatly.

The man immediately fell silent, shrinking his neck as if his throat were being squeezed.

"You gathered in this valley with a supply line stretching eight hundred miles, in terrain with no natural defenses, no Spiritual Vein access, and not even a decent bunker."

Chen Wuwang paced slowly. "You didn't come here to fight a war."

No one responded.

"You came here to die." He stopped, his gaze pinning the young man who had spoken first. "Or, you came to stall for time. Right?"

The man's pupils contracted, and his mouth hung open slightly, but he couldn't find the words.

"A mysterious organization," Chen Wuwang repeated, his voice dropping lower. "Nameless, traceless, sourceless. You can't even provide a single token, a code word, or a base? Do you really think this is my first day leading troops?"

He stopped looking at them and turned toward the tent exit.

Before lifting the flap, he paused and said without looking back, "Collect the bodies and incinerate them. Don't let them pollute the Spiritual Vein."

With that, he stepped out of the tent.

Morning light had already flooded the entire valley.

In the distance, the Clansmen were busy packing up equipment, while several small Drones buzzed overhead, recording the battle damage.

A heavy mecha was parked at the bottom of the slope, its tracks covered in mud and blood. The pilot was checking the energy core.

A lieutenant walked over quickly and cupped his fists in salute. "Patriarch, there are five prisoners in total. All others have been eliminated; none escaped."

Chen Wuwang nodded. His gaze swept across the smoking rock walls in the distance, and he said softly, "Notify the Logistics Team to spread Purification Powder in the scorched zone. No one is allowed to enter for three days."

"Understood."

The lieutenant hesitated for a moment. "Those five prisoners... how should they be handled?"

"Keep them locked up," Chen Wuwang said. "Don't let them see the light, and don't give them water. I'll decide once I've thought things through."

The lieutenant took the order and withdrew.

Chen Wuwang didn't move. He followed the route of last night's charge, stepping onto the high slope and standing at his original command position.

The wind blew against him, tossing his silver-white hair. He stood there, overlooking the entire battlefield.

The gullies from the falling Thunder Stones were still there, and the scorch marks from the Electromagnetic Cables were clearly visible. The blood trail where the youth had last crawled extended all the way to the foot of the rock wall like a crooked red line.

He closed his eyes, and the images in his mind automatically reconstructed—

Why did the rebels choose to gather here?

No water source, no cover, no retreat. The only explanation was that they never intended to leave alive.

But why launch an attack in this manner? It didn't seem like a probe, nor did it seem like a decisive battle.

Unless...

Their true mission wasn't to attack the Chen Family at all.

It was to draw the Chen Family's attention.

Chen Wuwang opened his eyes, his brow furrowing deeper.

His right hand unconsciously tapped the hilt of his dagger. The rhythm was more erratic than usual, sometimes heavy and sometimes light, as if he were unsettled.

"A mysterious organization..." he murmured, his voice nearly scattered by the wind.

Thirty years. Since the day of his Transmigration, since the night the Zerg slaughtered his village, since the moment the System was activated, he had fought his way up by relying on calculation, strategy, and staying one step ahead.

But this time, for the first time, he felt it—a blade that couldn't be seen.

It wasn't like Mo Yuan's mad-dog-style sneak attacks, nor was it like the blatant hatred of the Blood Demon Sect.

This blade was hidden in the shadows, silent and leaving not a single trace.

He pulled out the rune-covered Titanium Alloy Dagger from his waist and looked down at his reflection in the blade.

His left Mechanical Prosthetic Eye glowed with a faint blue light, while his right eye was as deep as a well.

"Just who is it..." he whispered to himself, "trying to play this shadow game right under my nose?"

The wind grew stronger, swirling the ashes from the ground and blowing them onto his face.

He didn't wipe them away, just stood there like a statue.

In the distance, the tent flap was lifted by the wind, revealing the five kneeling figures inside.

They remained with their heads bowed, motionless, as if afraid even their breathing would be heard.

Chen Wuwang's gaze swept over them and then fell back onto the battlefield.

He knew that this battle wasn't over yet.

But there was nothing he could do right now.

No clues, no direction, he didn't even know what the enemy looked like.

He could only wait.

Wait for the next signal.

Wait for the next move.

Wait for that fellow hiding in the darkness to reveal a flaw.

He slowly raised his hand and sheathed the dagger back at his waist.

Then, he turned, preparing to head down the slope.

Just then—

"Patriarch!" A Messenger came sprinting from the bottom of the hill, his voice urgent.

"An abnormal signal has been detected at the East Gate of Qiming Plain! It's not a heat source, it's... it's some kind of High-frequency Oscillation Wave! It lasted for three seconds and has already disappeared!"

Chen Wuwang's footsteps paused.

He slowly turned around and looked toward the east.

The sunlight was blinding.

His fingers once again rested on the hilt of his dagger.

His fingertips were ice-cold.