Jiang Qing watched in anticipation. He had kept this Painted Skin Atavist alive specifically for this day. Taste the same pain Uncle Wu suffered, Long Jin!
Bang! Just millimeters from Jing Pei’s skin, a dragon claw smashed the heavy steel needle to pieces. The Painted Skin Atavist disguised as Wu Ying shrieked as a kick sent him flying backward.
“It seems even now, when it comes to deception and acting, the Information Broker still reigns supreme,” Jiang Qing observed from the screen. His expression darkened slightly, though he showed little surprise. “Even so, you won’t last much longer.”
He picked up his phone and contacted a subordinate waiting outside the barrier. “She’s reached the end of her rope. Prepare the final strike.”
Bang! Chu Xusheng flew backward, crashing hard into a massive tree trunk. The tree gave way with a loud snap. He tumbled across the dirt before digging his fingers into the soil to steady himself.
He spat a mouthful of blood. Dark crimson seeped from the corners of his kaleidoscopic eyes as he glared at his opponent.
Behind his enemy hovered a bizarre, hooded shadow wielding a scythe, resembling a grim reaper straight out of hell.
“No one who calls the Hell Hotline has ever survived this long. You’re quite something, handsome. It’s such a waste for you to die. Why not become my nourishment instead? I promise to make you feel… divine~”
The enemy wore a tight red leather dress and voluminous wavy hair, yet the voice booming from his throat was distinctly male and rough. He was cross-dressing. On closer inspection, thick muscles bulged beneath the skintight leather, and a dense layer of hair covered his legs.
Watching the man lick his lips in a greasy gesture, veins pulsed on Chu Xusheng’s forehead. “Pervert. Go to hell!”
Anxiety gnawed at his heart. He had no idea how Jing Pei was faring, yet he remained pinned down. He didn’t want to waste time fighting. Unless one side held an overwhelming advantage, battles between Atavists often dragged on. When two evenly matched fighters clashed, a battle of wits and strength could easily last days, if not weeks. But he didn’t have time to spare.
His opponent was here specifically to stall him. The man’s Atavist ability proved bizarre and persistent—no matter where Chu Xusheng tried to sprint, the enemy glided right beside him, dragging him back to the starting point every single time. Escaping was impossible without a fight.
I have to kill him.
Murderous intent flooded his gaze. His shimmering, kaleidoscopic eyes turned blood red. His body expanded and shifted rapidly, his shadow twisting until it no longer resembled a human, but a massive, terrifying creature.
The enemy looked up, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
Meanwhile, in the neighboring country…
Fists pounded against the heavy doors of the Prime Minister’s office. “Your Excellency! Hualan is on the line, demanding an explanation! What is going on? Why are you detaining our two guests?!”
An Yan, who remained trapped at the dock, had already contacted Hualan’s high command. The central government knew of the blockade, and their top leadership was furious.
Sweat poured down the Prime Minister’s face. Ignoring the demands outside, he turned to his chief of staff. “Still no sign of Qiu Fa?”
“None, sir.”
“Curse it all! Where could he have gone? He’s not in the sky, and he hasn’t crossed the land border. He couldn’t have vanished into thin air, unless he dug under…” The Prime Minister froze mid-sentence. “Did he… take the waterway? Wait! How long does it take to reach Hualan by water?”
The chief of staff replied, “Only a single strait separates us from Hualan. But the chaotic whirlpools and violent currents inside that strait form a natural death trap. The magnetic field there is so erratic that even low-flying airships plummet into the sea. It’s one of the most treacherous bodies of water on Earth, so no shipping lanes pass through it. Every year, overconfident Atavists try to swim across, only to get sucked into the deep and drown. Over all these decades, only one Atavist has ever swum across safely. Even if Qiu Fa took the water, he won’t make it through unharmed!”
Hearing this, the Prime Minister breathed a slight sigh of relief. Then his face stiffened. “Who was that single Atavist who swum across?”
The chief of staff turned pale. “It was… our nation’s former strongest warrior.”
And that “strongest warrior” had been beaten into submission by Qiu Fa in just three days.
At that very moment, along the coastline of Yunjin Prefecture, a tall, powerful figure stepped out from the pitch-black ocean waves, vanishing into the night a second later.
Jing Pei’s Reverse Scale normally looked like an ordinary dragon scale—a flat, leaf-shaped oval. Expanding its size required a proportional surge of Atavist power, but bending it into a desired shield shape demanded far more energy, along with precise mental control.
During Qiu Fa’s previous crisis, he had shaped her Reverse Scale into an inverted dome within seconds, wrapping her in absolute defense. Afterward, Jing Pei had practiced the same technique, quickly mastering it after a few failed attempts. But right now, both her Atavist reserves and mental stamina were pushed past their limits.
Worse still, her enemies refused to give her a single moment to catch her breath.
At that moment, the operative responsible for transporting Atavist weapons stepped inside the barrier. Standing amid the crowd, he flashed a hand signal to Wu Qiang, who remained tucked inside his tortoise shell watching the fight. Wu Qiang nodded, his eyes burning with malice as he glared at Jing Pei.
Jing Pei’s earlier strike had nearly torn off half his head and shattered one of his eyeballs. That was why he had been forced to hide inside his shell for hours. Though his flesh had regenerated considerably, his lost eye would never grow back.
Now, the final moment had arrived.
He pulled a trigger device from his pocket, watching Jing Pei’s movements closely. Waiting for the curse user to strike again—pinning her down as dozens of floating eyes latched onto her skin and slowed her reflexes—he slammed his thumb onto the button.
Heavy, chain-like tendrils erupted from the ground in all directions, shooting toward Jing Pei like iron arrows. One chain impaled her left shoulder blade from the front, while another pierced her right shoulder blade from behind. The tips opened into barbed iron hooks that locked into her body, hauling her off the ground into mid-air.
Having hidden inside his shell for hours, Wu Qiang finally emerged. His once-handsome face looked warped and terrifying. “How does it feel? We installed this trap overnight. The metal in these chains matches the material used in Lou Ting’s Angel Cage! Is it freezing cold? Does it feel alive, draining your life force bit by bit?”
Jing Pei trembled, whether from the bone-chilling frost or the agonizing pain. Blood pooled around her feet, dripping continuously onto the stone below.
With the barrier finally deactivated, Wu Qiang’s phone rang instantly. His face smoothed into a respectful expression. “Young Master.”
“Put her on,” Jiang Qing instructed from the other end.
Wu Qiang held the phone against Jing Pei’s ear.
Jiang Qing’s triumphant voice echoed through the speaker. “Long Jin, how does it feel? Enjoying the taste?”
Bang!
Two entangled figures parted. The beefy figure in the tight red dress crashed to the ground, teeth and blood spraying from his wide-open mouth. His pupils dilated into lifelessness.
Chu Xusheng’s massive frame tottered. To finish the battle quickly, he had pushed himself into fifty percent Atavist transformation for the first time. Though his combat power surged, his human sanity hung by a thread.
He finally understood why his academy instructors drilled into them that transformations must stay under thirty percent at all times, never allowing themselves to slip into full Atavist form.
“Nevergone District… Nevergone District… Nevergone District…” He muttered like a man possessed, his body surging forward on instinct toward his destination. Forcing his willpower to claw back control over his mind, he slowly retracted his extra limbs, stumbling and crawling along like a drunk crab.
“What is that?” A golden-red figure swept through the sky, staring in disbelief at the creature sprinting below. The monster looked as though it were constructed of ash-white bone and coated in iron-black armor—resembling a mix of scorpion, crab, and spider.
“Is that an Atavist?” Chen Mo flew up beside him, eyeing the ground in shock. “Is it… from the Insect race?”
When Atavists transformed past a certain point, their appearances defied human imagination. Yet usually, recognizable traits remained. But the beast below looked nothing like a mammal.
“If it’s the Insect race… could that be Chu Xusheng? Look at that scorpion tail! Doesn’t it look familiar? That’s definitely him!”
“This is bad! Keep searching! If Chu Xusheng was pushed this far, imagine what Long Jin is facing!”
“There’s a surge over there! It appeared out of nowhere, like a barrier just dissolved!”
The group altered their course, speeding toward the energy fluctuation.
“Long Jin, how does it feel? Enjoying the taste?”
Jing Pei heard Jiang Qing’s voice. Her bloodless lips parted slightly as she spoke in a faint tone. “I’d expect nothing less from you, Jiang Qing. You pulled out every trick in the book just to take my life.”
“Consider it my show of respect. I never underestimated you for a second, Long Jin,” Jiang Qing sneered over the speaker. “This is the price of betraying me.”
“Heh… cough, cough…” Jing Pei let out a soft laugh. Looking straight into a hidden camera on one of the operatives, her gaze locked onto Jiang Qing through the feed as if standing face-to-face with him. Jiang Qing’s heart skipped a beat, a prickle of unease creeping through his triumph.
Then he heard Jing Pei speak, her voice faint yet clear, word by word. “But Jiang Qing… this is as far as you go. You can’t kill me.”
The smile vanished from Jiang Qing’s face. She hung impaled and bleeding, barely possessing the strength to breathe, yet that maddening confidence in her voice remained intact. His expression turned dark as he snapped at Wu Qiang, “Kill her right now.”
He assumed she must have sensed reinforcements drawing near, or realized Chu Xusheng had broken free. You’re arrogant to the end, Long Jin, but it’s too late!
“Understood!” Wu Qiang raised the syringe again, aiming for Jing Pei’s heart. Injecting the remaining half would guarantee her death.
“And sever her head for me,” Jiang Qing added coldly, ensuring no possibility of survival.
Wu Qiang had no intention of refusing. When he had beaten Jiang Qing earlier, he hadn’t known the young man was the Young Master. After the video went viral, fear had gnawed at him. Now he was desperate to redeem himself, hoping Jiang Qing would forgive his past actions.
The thick needle lined up with Jing Pei’s chest once more, but before it could pierce her skin, a hand reached out from the side and pressed the syringe down, halting him.
Wu Qiang stared in surprise. The man blocking him was the operative responsible for liaising with the organization and supplying weapons from outside the barrier.
“Mr. Fei wants Long Jin captured alive,” the operative stated, holding up a phone that showed an ongoing call.
“But the Young Master…” Wu Qiang stammered.
“Mr. Fei says the Young Master will agree.”
At headquarters, Jiang Qing whirled around to glare at Mr. Fei.
Mr. Fei remarked, “Since the Dragon Pearl inside her holds such potential, and we’ve expended so much manpower, resources, and laser ordnance, killing her outright would be a terrible waste. Bring her back alive. We can study her before disposing of her.”
In an instant, the nagging doubt that had flickered in Jiang Qing’s mind finally clicked. Memory flooded back into focus:
[“So that’s it. Long Ankang told you, didn’t he?”
“Correct. So, have you thought of a clever story to deny it?”
“Since you’ve already made up your mind, what’s left for me to deny?”]
What’s left for me to deny?
That subtle detail revealed her cunning—throughout her entire exchange with Wu Qiang, she had never once denied that her intelligence-gathering ability came from the Dragon Pearl.
Anyone who was falsely accused would instinctively deny it. Yet Jing Pei had responded in deliberately ambiguous, suggestive terms. Her words could easily be interpreted as, “You’ve already made up your minds, so there’s no point in denying it.” That interpretation had led him to overlook the trap she had set.
Yet to anyone harboring greed for the Dragon Pearl, her statement sounded like an implicit confession. Combined with her brazen admission at the conference that she was the Information Broker, it planted a psychological suggestion that her secret had been exposed and she had given up denying it.
As a result, even Mr. Fei and the senior leaders—whom Jiang Qing had explicitly told that the Dragon Pearl story was a fabricated lie—had been swayed by greed!
When potential profits exceeded three hundred percent, who could resist? Especially when the prize seemed so tantalizingly close.
Had she offered a single outright denial, Mr. Fei and the others wouldn’t have entertained the foolish hope that the Dragon Pearl held the secret to the Puzzle Intelligence Agency!
“Bringing her back dead achieves the same result! Leaving her alive only invites complications—Feng Yilian and the others are already on their way!” Jiang Qing growled, suppressing his anger.
Jiang Qing, this is as far as you go. You can’t kill me.
Her words rang like a curse, burning through his pride. They were at the final step—a single strike away from taking her life and completing his revenge. He needed her dead!
“However,” Mr. Fei interrupted calmly, “we know nothing about the dragon race’s Dragon Pearl. Bring her back first. Many of those assassins are our operatives, so securing her won’t be difficult.” His tone remained polite, yet his stance was unyielding.
With unprecedented power within reach, who would throw it away? Modern conflict was information warfare. If the organization commanded the Puzzle Intelligence Agency, the world would rest in their palm. When the new era arrived, such an asset would secure their absolute dominance.
To watch a meticulously crafted master plan reach the brink of success, only to be undermined by his own allies at the final second—the humiliation and rage were suffocating. Jiang Qing stood up, stepping forward to confront Mr. Fei.
“Young Master, if we fail to secure the Puzzle Intelligence Agency, how will the Information Broker’s death trigger global chaos?” Mr. Fei’s gaze sharpened, cutting into Jiang Qing like iron blades. Jiang Qing clutched his head, bending double as agonizing pain ripped through his skull, sweat pouring down his brow.
Mr. Fei smoothed his tone back to gentleness. “I understand your hatred for Long Jin, but as our Young Master, you cannot allow personal vendettas to dictate strategy. Naturally, your commands remain supreme, but as the advisor appointed by the Godfather, it is my duty to offer counsel. I strongly urge you to reconsider, Young Master.”
The other senior members remained silent. Between the Young Master and Mr. Fei—essentially the Crown Prince and the Prince Regent—they sat atop the organization beneath only the Godfather. No one dared cross either of them.
For all his cunning intellect, Jiang Qing remained bound by whatever control Mr. Fei wielded over him—resembling Sun Wukong constrained by the golden hoop. No matter his strength, when the senior leader stood firm, he had no choice but to yield.
The onlookers secretly cheered, aligning with Mr. Fei on this matter. The greed in their eyes mirrored that of the masked family members surrounding Jing Pei.
Jiang Qing clutched his head, veins bulging along his neck. Suppressing his rage, he gave ground. “Fine. Bring her back immediately. We’re running out of time.”
Arguing further with Mr. Fei was pointless; the man had set his heart on acquiring the Dragon Pearl. Bastard. One day I’ll tear you to pieces. For now, securing Long Jin before Feng Yilian and the others arrived was the only priority.
On the ruins of the coffee shop…
“Did you hear that?” the operative held out his phone to Wu Qiang.
Wu Qiang lowered the syringe.
“Hey! Wu Qiang! What is the meaning of this?” The masked family representatives finally sensed something amiss. Wu Qiang didn’t seem to be acting on their behalf!
Wu Qiang turned to them with a smirk. “My apologies, everyone. Thanks for letting us use you. I’ll drop by another day to apologize in person. But for now, I suggest you get moving—your Family Heads are about to arrive.”
The family representatives glared furiously at the mercenaries. Hadn’t they been hired to eliminate Long Jin? Why were they standing by?
“Make sure the remaining balance is wired to my account,” one assassin grunted. With that, several mercenaries vanished into the night. Others stayed rooted to the spot in silence—some had been bought out by the organization, while others served masters who had already made deals behind the scenes.
None of them intended to hinder the organization’s retreat.
An agent planted among the family members spoke up. “Dammit, time’s up! Let’s get out of here before our clan members recognize us! We’ll settle scores later!”
He turned and fled.
Swallowing their resentment, the remaining family members scattered into the darkness. As former leaders, their body language and martial stances were too recognizable to risk being caught by their own clansmen.
Wu Qiang and his cohort unhooked Jing Pei, pulling the Cage of Shrinking Earth from a spatial pouch. They shoved her bleeding form inside, picked up the cage, and fled under the protection of the remaining mercenaries.
High above, Feng Yilian and his allies watched figures fleeing through the forest in all directions.
“Fan out and pursue!” Feng Yilian ordered.
Members of the Feng family and other avian clans descended from the clouds, splitting up to chase the fleeing targets. Below them, ground-based Atavists arrived in armored vehicles, tire screeches echoing as the hunt began.
Avian Atavists swooped down, tackling the fugitives onto the forest floor. Skirmishes broke out across the terrain.
“Where is Xiao Jin?!” Feng Yilian and Chen Mo scanned the landscape below.
“Wait! Is that Wu Qiang? Who is he with?” Chen Mo’s sharp eyes caught figures speeding along the riverbank. Then his gaze locked onto the small cage in Wu Qiang’s hand—inside lay Jing Pei, covered in blood.
Chen Mo bellowed, “Dammit! Wu Qiang is a traitor too?! How many damn traitors do we have in our ranks?! Are we completely riddled with spies?!”
Without a word, Feng Yilian dove toward the ground, his expression dark with fury.
“That’s my boss! The boss I just allied with! Give her back!” Chen Mo shot down right behind him.
“Block them!” Wu Qiang glanced back at the incoming duo, barking orders at his mercenaries.
The mercenaries split off from the group, stepping up to intercept the pursuers.
Jiang Qing watched the chaotic feed, his fingers tapping anxiously against his knee. “Maximize headquarters’ movement speed. Bring Long Jin in as fast as possible.”
“Right away, sir!” a senior member hurried off to pass the command.
The invisible mobile bubble—acting as a floating fortress—pushed its propulsion systems to the maximum limit. Having drifted lazily across Hualan’s prefectures for months, it now surged toward Yunjin Prefecture at full throttle.
Feng Yilian and Chen Mo were pinned down by the mercenaries. As a Black Tortoise Atavist, Wu Qiang’s power multiplied near water. With Hualan’s abundant rivers and streams, and Qiu Fa—the greatest threat—trapped in the neighboring country, securing Jing Pei seemed virtually guaranteed.
Yet with the plan forced off course and the timeline stretched, the risk of unexpected variables multiplied. A subtle knot of anxiety tightened inside Jiang Qing.
At that moment, his phone vibrated.
It was the Prime Minister of the neighboring nation. After wrestling with fear for hours, he finally gathered the nerve to report. “Y-Young Master… I disregarded my ministers and used full executive authority to lock down the borders to keep Qiu Fa trapped. But… but Qiu Fa seems to have taken the waterway and is swimming back.”
That neighboring country shared a vast network of rivers and subterranean waterways, leading into an endless ocean that proved nearly impossible to patrol. Even after dispatching naval fleets to search the waters, they had found nothing.
Jiang Qing stood up abruptly, his expression darkening. “When did you lose track of him?”
“M-Maybe five hours ago… or six…” the Prime Minister stammered before trying to reassure him, “B-But how fast could anyone possibly swim across an ocean?”
Jiang Qing rubbed his temples forcefully. Five hours—given Qiu Fa’s sheer capability, swimming back in that time was entirely within the realm of possibility. The man could arrive at any moment.
An acute wave of urgency swept through the room, putting everyone on edge, including Mr. Fei.
“It might still be early enough to kill Long Jin right now,” Jiang Qing suggested sharply.
“No,” Mr. Fei countered. “We need to study the Dragon Pearl.”
Jiang Qing had activated the organization’s deepest sleeper agents and consumed massive stockpiles of expensive Atavist laser weapons for this operation. Having poured so much into the venture, the organization refused to relinquish its claim on the Dragon Pearl.
Jiang Qing’s eyes glinted darkly. “Then throw Long Jin somewhere even Qiu Fa can’t reach.”
On the outer rim of Yunjin City, sparse village houses lay scattered across rolling hills. A clean concrete mountain road wound through the quiet terrain, devoid of traffic.
Behind a thick tree line, several shadows moved inside an abandoned primary school.
“The Young Master ordered us to open an interdimensional gateway,” one shadow stated.
They stepped up to a dusty classroom door, shoving aside broken wooden desks to reveal three heavy machines concealed inside.
Who could have guessed that three membrane-breaking machines—capable of plunging the world into absolute catastrophe—lay sitting casually among junk inside a deserted schoolhouse?
These three units had originally been scheduled for activation alongside global mass deployment once production finished. But circumstances had forced their early use.
“Which dimension are we targeting? Have the coordinates arrived? I’ll set the frequency.”
Checking his receiver, the operative replied, “The Ice Age Realm.”
“Got it. But isn’t the Ice Age Realm a discarded dimension? There’s nothing in there except endless snow and ice—no living creatures at all. What are we opening it for?”
Ever since the membrane-breaking technology succeeded, the organization’s survey teams had scouted interdimensional space around the clock. Not every dimension mapped was suitable for merging; many lacked life and offered no harvestable energy. Such realms functioned poorly even as storage space, demanding excessive power to open, so they were usually classified as useless remnants and forgotten.
“Probably disposing of a high-value prisoner. Who knows? Don’t ask questions.”
“Then that prisoner is in for hell. Temperatures in the Ice Age Realm reach minus one hundred fifty degrees Celsius.”
Minus one hundred fifty degrees—what did that mean? If Earth’s temperature dropped to minus one hundred, the entire planet would plunge into an ice age. Blizzard winds and hail would sweep every continent, turning structural steel brittle like glass, eradicating virtually all life.
Yet this pocket dimension sat at minus one hundred fifty degrees!
Any Atavist thrown inside would freeze to death. In fact, a ordinary human might suffer less, turning into a block of ice instantly without feeling pain, whereas a powerful Atavist’s body would endure the agonizing process of slowly freezing solid.
“If they’re a condemned prisoner, dying is the point.”
As they chatted, the spatial lock engaged. The three membrane-breaking machines emitted beams of white light through the roof, converging into a triangular canopy in the sky above. The central focus point split open like torn fabric, revealing a growing, pitch-black void.
At the same time, Wu Qiang and his group crossed the mountains at breakneck speed, carrying Jing Pei toward the target coordinates.
“We’re almost there!”
Jiang Qing watched through the live feed. He had chosen this dimension on purpose—bringing Jing Pei to headquarters was too risky. She was far too resourceful, and every extra minute she stayed alive gave her another chance to strike back. She had to die at once.
Dropping her into the Ice Age Realm was perfect. She had lost vast amounts of blood and suffered a heavy dose of viral infection. Extremely weakened, she had no means to generate heat. In that extreme void, ten minutes would suffice to freeze her solid. And once the portal snapped shut, separating two distinct worlds, no living soul could ever reach her.
Wu Qiang’s party reached a distance of less than a thousand meters from the portal.
Having shaken off their pursuers, Feng Yilian and Chen Mo closed in from above, spotting the white beam hovering in the sky.
“What is that?” Chen Mo squinted. “It looks familiar, like I’ve seen a video of it somewhere.”
Feng Yilian stared for a moment before his pupils contracted. “That’s a portal opened by a membrane-breaking machine!”
During Qiu Fa’s previous encounter, satellite footage of the anomaly had been distributed to students at Twelve Zodiac Academy. They had all studied similar spatial tears in class.
“Dammit! They’re trying to dump Xiao Jin into another dimension!”
