Though Qin Xun was already advanced in age, his body remained robust. His warning rang out like a tolling bell, piercing deep into the terrorists’ ears.
All but a few of the stronger core members coughed up blood with muffled groans.
Seeing him take the initiative to attack, the enemy no longer held back.
Nine terrorists were trapped in the formation—aside from their Black leader, who was B-rank, the rest were C-rank.
At first glance, against Qin Xun, who stood at the peak of B-rank, just a step away from A-rank, they seemed to have little chance of victory.
But the battlefield was unpredictable. Until the outcome was decided, anything was possible.
The Black man’s muscles swelled as if inflating, tearing his clothes to shreds and revealing the eerie, mysterious beast markings covering his skin. The patterns formed the image of a lion, flickering as though coming to life.
Outside the formation, members of the Beidou organization quickly secured the area, the sirens of emergency vehicles blaring across the scene.
With nothing urgent to do for the moment, Su Mo found a good vantage point to observe the battle inside the formation.
After all, this was a clash between B-rank powerhouses—not something just anyone could witness.
Even if such an opportunity arose, no one would thoughtfully isolate the battlefield for spectators.
The fight should have been one-sided, but after the Black man produced a cracked skull fragment, Qin Xun seemed to be suppressed by some strange energy, gradually losing ground.
The other Beidou members outside wanted to assist, but Qin Xun’s own formation now worked against them, becoming an obstacle. They could only watch helplessly as he was surrounded, frustration gnawing at them.
“Don’t worry about me. Focus on evacuating the civilians. Be wary—there may be more enemies lying in wait.” Qin Xun’s voice reached every Beidou member, including Su Mo.
The leader of this Beidou operation was a young man in his thirties with a crew cut. He had already noticed Su Mo—after all, when they arrived, this “young woman” had been the fiercest fighter, with E-rank terrorists rarely surviving more than two exchanges against her.
“Hello, I’m Zhao He, Beidou’s Beijing commander. You fought impressively just now—you must be D-rank, right? Any interest in joining us?” He extended an invitation.
Su Mo smiled and handed over his identification. “Su Mo, from the Jingcheng branch of Beidou’s Chuzhou division. Already one of you. Also, I’m only E-rank.”
“Su Mo?” Zhao He’s expression shifted to recognition. “No wonder. You’re one of the rare A-rank talents.”
There were only a handful of A-rank talents nationwide, and as a mid-to-high-ranking Beidou member, Zhao He had access to personnel records.
The other awakened fighters who had intervened also received invitations, but they were all affiliated with official organizations—otherwise, they wouldn’t have revealed themselves so readily.
Since they were allies, Su Mo was assigned a temporary task: patrolling the perimeter with a reconnaissance team to ensure no other terrorists were hiding nearby.
His team was responsible for the riverbank under the bridge, where numerous footprints—many fresh from tonight—were scattered about.
“Search carefully. Don’t miss a single detail,” the team leader repeated.
In October, most rivers were in flood season, and this one was no exception. However, due to the gentle terrain, the water was relatively calm, with no major waves.
Su Mo walked along the riverbank, keeping a close eye on the water. After all, those experts earlier had emerged from the river.
What was their goal?
Bombing the train? Killing people? Or using this as bait to lure out Qin Xun himself?
Su Mo couldn’t figure it out.
Suddenly, the water churned as a head surfaced.
“What’s going on? Why am I floating up?” The man spoke in Japanese, sounding confused.
At the same time, others emerged from the water in different spots.
One of them looked furious, cursing, “Bakayarou!”
They quickly drew the attention of the Beidou patrol. Two speedboats raced toward them.
“Captain, something in the water grabbed my pants and… squeezed me there, forcing me to surface. It’s like they wanted to expose us to Beidou.”
“Same here. It wasn’t strong, but it was too fast in the water—I couldn’t land a hit.”
The Japanese captain sighed. “Everyone, move ashore. We’ll act based on the situation. If Buck wins, we charge. If he loses, we retreat.”
“Hai!” they responded, swiftly making for the shore.
To protect his team from Beidou’s long-range attacks, the captain took the lead, drawing fire.
As a C-rank, bullets were harmless to him.
Just as he was about to reach the bank, gray-black tentacles rose from the water, coiling protectively around him—some even gave him a push, helping him ashore.
The others experienced the same. One shuddered.
“This feels like the thing that squeezed me earlier…”
Before they could react, the tentacles had already deposited them on land.
Su Mo immediately recognized these tentacles—they were identical to those he’d encountered at Jingnan Third Hospital. He warned the others to stay alert.
He wasn’t sure if the Hundred Immortals Cult was involved in this terrorist act, but if they were, he’d abandon any thought of contacting them.
For now, though, the tentacle monster didn’t seem to side with anyone. Its goal was… forcing both sides into direct conflict?
Just as it intended, the two groups clashed the moment they met.
Su Mo’s patrol team had seven members, including him. Aside from the D-rank captain, the rest were E-rank.
It wasn’t that Beidou lacked stronger fighters—the incident had simply unfolded too suddenly, leaving few personnel available.
The two captains engaged, with the Japanese captain clearly superior. His mastery of the katana was transcendent, and within three moves, he had completely suppressed his opponent.
The other Japanese fighters were also E-rank, though far stronger than those encountered outside the train earlier.
“Takes me ten seconds to kill one. Annoying,” Su Mo muttered.
Seeing the patrol captain in danger, he gritted his teeth and stepped in, intercepting the enemy’s blade.
Thud!
The strike wasn’t just physical—the spiritual energy behind it instantly disrupted the meridians in his body.
Wiping blood from his lips, his body trembled.
So this is the power of a C-rank? I can barely withstand a casual strike.
The Japanese captain looked surprised and said something Su Mo didn’t understand.
“Speak Chinese. I don’t understand you,” Su Mo said flatly.
The man paused, clearly not comprehending either.
“He’s C-rank. You can’t win. Get out of here—your future isn’t worth throwing away,” the patrol captain said hoarsely, struggling to his feet. A white mist began to swirl around him.
Soon, the mist ignited like flames, and his body expanded by a full size. “Japs, today I’ll show you how our Xia Kingdom’s techniques compare to your ninjutsu. Burning Spirit!”
Boom!
The two collided again—this time evenly matched. But the mist around the captain dimmed noticeably.
Burning Spirit—likely the name of the technique—granted a temporary power boost. It seemed formidable.
Su Mo didn’t flee. He swallowed a red fruit, and bronze armor materialized around him in an instant.
The decision wasn’t rational, but it was his first instinct—and Su Mo refused to betray his own heart.
A C-rank?
How would I know if I don’t try?
Besides, hadn’t Qingyi said this trip would bring a benefactor? What if the benefactor saw his cowardice and changed their mind?