Chapter 126
“Commander Wen has gone missing, and no one knows where he went. City A is now leaderless, and even Commander Li has encountered trouble. I barely managed to escape in the chaos!”
Xiao Qi, the little fox, had just heard the news from a messenger and rushed to the private conference room in the chapel. Before entering, he overheard the shocking report. His instinct was to glance at Wen Xin, whose expression was unreadable but grave.
Wen Xin’s voice was steady. “Calm down and explain everything clearly. When did you realize Wen Jinfeng was missing? What happened to Li Yongming and the others?”
The messenger took a deep breath, steadying himself under Wen Xin’s composed gaze. Slowly, he began recounting the events.
About a week ago, a mysterious figure in a cloak arrived at the base, requesting a private audience with Wen Jinfeng. It seemed they knew each other, as Wen Jinfeng personally met with the visitor and spoke with them alone for about thirty minutes. Afterward, the cloaked figure left City A in haste, and the next day, Wen Jinfeng vanished without a trace.
The messenger gestured toward the items he had delivered earlier: a sealed letter and a box tightly wrapped in cloth.
“Two hours before he disappeared, Commander Wen summoned me in secret. He instructed me to deliver these items to you as quickly as possible. I haven’t delayed for a moment, fearing I might fail his orders.”
The messenger’s voice trembled with emotion as he added, “Commander Li and the others were ambushed in the military administration building. They barely survived. When we checked the surveillance footage, it was as if the attackers appeared out of thin air.”
“Out of thin air?” Xiao Qi asked, his ears perking up. “Could the attackers be espers?”
Before bringing the messenger into the meeting room, Wen Xin had deliberately ordered everyone else to leave, ensuring no unrelated individuals were nearby. Xiao Qi’s sudden entrance startled the messenger, who shot a nervous glance at Wen Xin. When the latter showed no displeasure, the messenger swallowed and continued.
“Yes, we suspect the attackers had an ability to conceal their presence. There’s no other plausible explanation. We reviewed the footage repeatedly, from the base’s security checkpoints to the military administration building’s multiple surveillance devices, but none captured how the attackers entered Commander Wen’s office. The security personnel and guards on patrol were equally clueless.”
Xiao Qi’s worry deepened. He wasn’t concerned about himself but feared Wen Xin might lose control if anything happened to his only remaining relative.
Yet Wen Xin remained unexpectedly calm. As the messenger spoke, he unwrapped the cloth covering the box, revealing a silver-white lead-sealed container with a six-digit combination lock.
Wen Xin recognized the type—it was a specialized secure container he had encountered during his training days. These boxes employed a pressure-sensitive mechanism: any attempt to forcibly open them would trigger a chemical reaction, combining two volatile substances to create an explosion, destroying the contents and severely injuring the intruder.
“No one knows what Wen Jinfeng and the cloaked figure discussed?” Wen Xin asked, his gaze steady.
“No one,” the messenger replied. “Even Lieutenant Li Yongming was ordered to wait outside the room. No one overheard their conversation.”
Setting the box aside, Wen Xin turned his attention to the letter. Its seal was intact, showing no signs of tampering.
The messenger’s palms were damp with sweat as he added urgently, “Commander Wen is missing, Commander Li is gravely injured, and City A is in chaos. Sir, we need you to step in and take charge!”
But Wen Xin shook his head. “Me? If I rush to City A just as Wen Jinfeng goes missing, it will only fuel speculation. People will think I orchestrated his disappearance and the recent troubles in City A.”
“Then are we just supposed to do nothing?” The messenger’s voice grew heated. “It won’t be long before the First Base learns that City A is without leadership. To them, it’s like a prepared feast. They might already be making their move!”
Wen Xin massaged his temple, the tension clear on his face. He seemed to fully grasp the gravity of the situation. “If that’s the case, I’ll need to take a sufficient force to support City A. They’re likely surrounded on all sides…”
The messenger’s expression turned somber. “I’ve heard the rumors about your strained relationship with Commander Wen. But regardless of what’s happened between you, he’s still your family. Will you just stand by and let City A fall to the First Base?”
Wen Xin didn’t answer. Ignoring Xiao Qi’s worried gaze, he quietly opened the letter.
From the beginning to the end, it was unmistakably Wen Jinfeng’s tone—absent, for once, of its usual sarcasm and mockery.
However, the letter didn’t explain his disappearance. Instead, it started with casual inquiries about Wen Xin’s health. Then it shifted abruptly to mention the many enemies Wen Jinfeng had made, noting that even the lightning wounds inflicted by Yuan Yanzhong hadn’t fully healed, while opportunists circled, eager to see him fall.
Wen Jinfeng confessed to sleepless nights, relying on medication to get even a few hours of rest. Stress weighed heavily on him, and he often dreamed of the past—of moments like Wen Xin’s fondness for treating potted plants like pets, a joke they used to share.
…
To anyone reading it, the letter would seem like a plea for help from Wen Jinfeng to Wen Xin. It began with an appeal to emotion by referencing his injuries, softened with nostalgic anecdotes, and ended with an unspoken but clear call for familial loyalty.
Connecting the events to Wen Jinfeng’s sudden disappearance, Wen Xin clenched the letter tightly, exhaling heavily. “I thought cutting ties with him was the best way to protect him. But now…”
Meeting the messenger’s conflicted gaze, Wen Xin closed his eyes, massaging his temples to stabilize his emotions.
After a moment, he took the lead-sealed lockbox into his hands. His fingers turned the metallic dials on the lock, the clicking sounds crisp and deliberate.
About ten seconds later, there was a faint click.
The lock mechanism emitted an unusual sound. The messenger instinctively lifted his head but hadn’t even craned his neck to peek before Wen Xin asked abruptly, “There’s something I can’t quite figure out.”
Wen Xin’s hand rested on the box’s lid, which remained firmly sealed to the base. The sound alone didn’t reveal whether the lock had been fully disengaged.
The messenger quickly masked the flicker of unease in his eyes. “What is it?”
“How long after Wen Jinfeng disappeared did Li Yongming’s incident occur?” Wen Xin asked.
“Less than half a day,” the messenger replied.
Wen Xin’s tone sharpened. “Less than half a day, and they were all attacked?”
“No,” the messenger corrected, “the report of Commander Li’s attack came first. Then the others began to run into trouble.”
Wen Xin continued pressing for details, and the messenger answered each question without hesitation. However, Xiao Qi, standing nearby, furrowed his brow and shot the messenger a suspicious look.
That single glance visibly rattled the messenger.
Internally reviewing his responses, the messenger reassured himself that everything was consistent. But his confidence shattered when Wen Xin asked again, “And when exactly did you set out?”
The messenger opened his mouth to reply but froze mid-breath. His face paled as his pupils constricted in realization—there was a fatal flaw in his earlier statements.
Wen Xin spoke the unspoken: “You said you dared not delay Wen Jinfeng’s orders. From the moment he entrusted you with these items, you should have departed within half an hour to deliver them to me at the Idealism Sect.”
Wen Xin’s voice turned icy. “So how is it that you, having already left City A, are so well-informed about everything that’s happened there since? Are you saying that while on this secret mission, you still found time to communicate with City A?”
The accusation landed like a thunderclap, and the messenger, knowing his cover was blown, turned to flee.
He didn’t get far. Pain exploded across his scalp as Xiao Qi, fully prepared, slammed him to the ground. Red tinged the little fox’s eyes, a menacing aura radiating from his S-grade mutant bloodline.
The oppressive force was overwhelming. Under Xiao Qi’s blood-stained gaze, the messenger lost the will to resist.
Then, something extraordinary happened.
The man’s facial features began to shift, melting like wax under heat. His original visage faded, replaced by an unfamiliar face entirely.
Dazed, the man saw Wen Xin approaching, his voice sharp with anger.
“I won’t say anything!” the man shouted, panicked. “If you’ve got the guts, kill me!”
Wen Xin regarded the shape-shifting esper with mild surprise. A moment later, he remarked coolly, “It seems you weren’t sent by Dr. An Qi.”
The man faltered.
“If you were one of An Qi’s, he wouldn’t have sent you with such a flawed cover story. And he certainly would’ve warned you that hiding secrets from the Pope of the Idealism Sect is utterly pointless.”
As the man’s eyes widened in terror, Xiao Qi flicked his fingers, casting an illusion.
Ripples spread from the man’s location, distorting the air like a mirage. The scenery shifted, replaced by a desolate wasteland.
Wen Xin now stood amidst the ruins of what appeared to be an abandoned factory. However, the focal point wasn’t the factory itself, but the body lying on the ground—the real messenger.
The true courier’s lifeless eyes stared blankly, blood trickling from his mouth. He had been dead for hours.
Alongside the disguised esper were two other men. They rummaged through the messenger’s belongings, extracting the letter and lockbox without hesitation. One of them—a crew-cut man—read the letter and sneered.
“Who would’ve thought? That lunatic Wen Jinfeng, so arrogant his entire life, is now brought down by his own brother. And to top it off, he has to beg for help. I’d love to see what a mess he’s become.”
The other man, sporting a bushy beard, showed no interest in the letter’s contents. Instead, his attention shifted to the silver-white lockbox.
“This is what General Shao said we absolutely had to intercept?”
The crew-cut man frowned. “Don’t touch it. I’m not sure I can restore it if you break the mechanism.”
“What’s the harm in taking a look?” The bearded man’s lips curled into a sinister grin as he reached for the inhibitor collar around his neck. “Don’t you want to find a way to break free of their control?”
He then turned to the shape-shifter. “And you—don’t you want to save your mother, who’s still detained at the base?”
The shape-shifter hesitated, swallowing his objections.
The crew-cut man seemed to wrestle internally before sighing in resignation. “And you think this box contains the answer? That guy—the one even Wen Jinfeng has to call General—you think whatever’s inside here will actually free us from his grasp? What a joke.”
“Only one way to find out,” the bearded man replied, licking his cracked lips. “What could possibly be inside that Wen Jinfeng would risk his life to retrieve it and hand it over to his brother? I’m dying to know.”
The crew-cut man appeared swayed.
While the two discussed, the shape-shifter stood aside, his expression conflicted.
It wasn’t until the bearded man prepared to forcibly open the box that the shape-shifter voiced a protest. “Hey! Aren’t you worried it might be dangerous?”
“Tch, worst-case scenario, it’s rigged with something like nitric acid to destroy the contents. It’s always the same tricks,” the bearded man scoffed dismissively.
“These idiots—they can’t possibly imagine that we have an esper capable of perfectly restoring anything,” the shape-shifter began to say, as though trying to interject.
“And anyway,” the bearded man added nonchalantly, applying brute force to the box, “what’s the worst that could happen? What dangerous thing could Wen Jinfeng possibly send to his brother?”
The moment the words left his mouth, there was a sharp snap. The bearded man’s clumsy attempt at dismantling the box triggered its internal detonation mechanism. A blinding white light flared.
Boom!
A thunderous explosion erupted, flames shooting skyward.
Feeling the heatwave surging toward him, the already hesitant shape-shifter instinctively dove to the side. Despite his quick reaction, he couldn’t escape unscathed—a large portion of flesh was burned off one side of his body.
“AAAAHHHH!”
Yet the first to scream wasn’t the shape-shifter, pale-faced as he was.
The crew-cut man, who had also been caught in the blast and had his lower leg blown clean off, let out an unending wail. His wide eyes took in the scene of devastation: the bearded man, his body charred and barely recognizable, reduced to a bloody stump swaying precariously on the branches of a nearby tree.
Plop.
What remained of the lead-sealed box fell from the mangled corpse’s hand, landing on the ground with a soft thud.
Xiao Qi stared at the grisly scene, his heart trembling. Unable to help himself, he anxiously glanced at Wen Xin to gauge his reaction.
But Wen Xin remained composed, even letting out a small sigh of relief. Turning toward the silver lockbox, he picked it up and examined it thoughtfully. “It seems to be the real deal,” he remarked, his voice calm. It was indeed the item Wen Jinfeng had left for him—untainted and not swapped for a fake.
Xiao Qi: “…”
