From Apocalypse To Entertainment Circle (BL) Chapter 35: The Lord with golden eyes

"Damn it! Send support troops to the forest now!" Grandpa Lan commanded, his voice cutting through the tense atmosphere as he strode toward the conference room, the polished wooden floors echoing his urgency.

His subordinate, a young officer whose nerves were frayed from the unfolding crisis, caught up with him, urgency lacing his tone. "Sir, we just received a report from our personnel stationed at the forest’s edge. The joint military and police forces have been annihilated by the strange helicopter we saw monts ago in the live broadcast."

The words hung heavy in the air, unyielding and foreboding. Grandpa Lan halted briefly, his shoulders tightening. "But sir, how did you know?" the secretary hesitated to ask, his curiosity battling with the gravity of the situation. Despite the chaos unraveling before them, he couldn’t shake his confusion about how Grandpa Lan had grasped the dire implications of the flight within monts of its appearance.

Just minutes prior, they had all been watching the broadcast, the atmosphere buoyed by a mix of pride and adrenaline as Sian showcased his combat prowess. Grandpa Lan had even praised him, a flicker of a smile playing across his lips. But as the helicopter sliced into the fra, that expression darkened instantly, a thundercloud rolling through his features. He had leapt into action, summoning the urgency of an ergency eting—reinforcents, dical teams, additional support—all of it rolling off his tongue like an incantation in the face of oncoming doom.

"Because the masked man has appeared," Grandpa Lan’s tone shifted to a grave whisper. The gravity of his revelation sent a shiver coursing through the secretary, grounding him in the reality they faced. "You may not know this, as the information was classified, but the leader of the organization is a man who wears a silver mask. He calls himself ’The Last Ruler of This Century.’ The leader of the most dangerous terrorist organization just showed up on a live broadcast. Damn it... this does not bode well."

A heavy sense of foreboding settled over the secretary as he silently followed Grandpa Lan down the corridor, their footsteps reverberating eerily against the silence of the building. The walls adorned with the accolades of past victories felt repulsive now, shadows of past triumphs that seed to mock their current plight.

As they approached the conference room, a sharp intake of breath from the surrounding staff echoed the tension in the air. Grandpa Lan’s reputation for decisiveness was well-known, yet today, it seed even he grappled with what they had just witnessed. The live feed continued to stream in the background, a haunting reminder of the chaos erupting in the forest.

He pushed through the door, steeling himself against the wave of anxious faces before him. "Listen up!" he barked, regaining his composure with the force of his voice. "What we’re facing is unlike anything we’ve encountered. This is not just a tactical assault; it’s a declaration of war. We need every available unit ready for deploynt within the hour. Coordinate with the local forces—get them moving!"

A flurry of nods and hurried responses filled the room as his orders took root. The tension was palpable, a collective heartbeat thrumming through the group as they prepared for the storm that lood beyond the forest’s edge.

The discussions grew louder and more frantic, delving into strategies and potential outcos, but Grandpa Lan’s mind was already racing elsewhere, torn between concern for his troop and dread for what lay ahead. The masked man—his re existence igniting long-buried fears. mories of conflict, loss, and the elusive nature of power danced through his mind, uninvited yet insistent.

As the team finalized their plans, Grandpa Lan’s gaze drifted toward the window, the darkening sky casting a shadow over the land. He knew that today would test their resolve, peeling back the layers of their strengths and weaknesses. History had a way of repeating itself, and the echoes of the past warned him of the turbulence to co.

With a deep breath, he steeled his resolve once more. "Prepare for battle."

***

As tensions mounted and preparations solidified, all eyes fell on the forest, where the masked enemy awaited, shrouded in mystery and danger. The heart of the conflict lay not just in the shadows of the trees, but in the choices already made and those yet to co.

---

Everyone’s gaze was fixed on the shadowy figures erging from the helicopter, their presence sending a ripple of unease through the crowd. The n in black moved with an unsettling grace, and the one at the forefront—a silver-masked man—caught the attention of Lan Qisheng and his group.

With a silent command, one of the n in black drifted away only to return monts later, carrying a chair that he placed behind the silver-masked figure. The man seated himself with an air of authority, as if he were a king surveying his court. Deep down, Lan Qisheng recognized the weight of this mont; sothing monuntal was about to unfold.

As the nacing silhouettes drew closer, Lan Qisheng deftly made his way toward his comrades, holding Sian’s unconscious form protectively in his arms. Despite the tension, he moved with the agility of soone who had faced danger many tis before. The black-clad n watched his every motion, their expressions unchanging, as still as statues.

Each step Lan Qisheng took seed to thrum with the awareness of their unyielding watch. It was clear that these n were not ordinary adversaries; their power resonated in the charged air around them, a force to be reckoned with.

"Check Sian’s condition," he ordered Wu Hao, his voice steady despite the turmoil brewing in his heart. He darted a sharp look at the n in black, who stood poised like sentinels, binding the scene with their silent intensity.

The atmosphere thickened with anticipation as the masked man, at last, broke the silence. His voice, rough and laced with chanical undertones, rolled out like thunder, altered by so hidden device.

"Bring Ethan."

Without hesitation, two of the n stepped forward, their movents deliberate and confident. They didn’t draw their weapons, exuding an air of authority that already suggested their deadly capabilities. Standing before Lan Qisheng and his n, they spoke with a firm yet respectful tone, their posture unyielding.

"Our lord wants that man with you. Hand him over now."

The tension in the air beca almost suffocating, a palpable force that threatened to consu everything in its path. Lan Qisheng’s heart raced as he assessed the situation; they were outnumbered and at a crossroads.

He exchanged glances with his n, seeking solace in their shared resolve. They had co too far and endured too much to relinquish their prize now. In that harrowing mont, he felt the weight of their mission pressing down on him, the lives of his comrades hanging in the balance.

Before Lan Qisheng could speak, Zhao Ling stepped forward in fury, launching himself at the two n with an impulsive attack.

"Do you think just because you demand sothing, we’ll obediently hand it over?" he growled.

Unfortunately, the sharp-tongued man soon found himself flying through the air, crashing into the nearest tree.

Zhao Ling:

[Why does this feel like déjà vu?]

Ren Yi helped his foolish friend up before looking toward their leader.

Lan Qisheng shook his head before turning to the two n. "Go ahead. Take him."

The prisoner scread in protest, struggling desperately to escape, but the two n seized him effortlessly and threw him at the feet of the silver-masked man.

"I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! Please, have rcy on , Lord! Please don’t kill ! I’ll tell you where the stolen weapons shipnt is! Please!"

"Where is it?"

"It’s... it’s in an abandoned factory next to the Nanchang Industrial Area! Factory Number Four! Please... spare my life!"

BANG

A deafening gunshot echoed.

A gaping hole appeared in the man’s skull, and his lifeless body collapsed onto the grass.

Silence fell.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

The two groups stood opposite each other in complete stillness.

Then, the silver-masked man’s voice rang out.

"That boy. I want to see his face."

His words were clear and direct—not a question, but a command.

Lan Qisheng raised his gun and aid it at the man, but in the blink of an eye, one of the n in black appeared behind him, taking him down with a single strike.

The speed at which he moved was inhuman—it was as if he had teleported from his original position to where Lan Qisheng stood.

After dropping Lan Qisheng, the man swiftly took down the others, striking them just hard enough to render them incapable of standing.

Then, he approached Sian, who had been left lying on the ground by Wu Hao.

He reached out to place his hands under Sian’s body to lift him.

The mont his fingers brushed against the boy—

A murderous aura exploded from Sian.

With a sudden, unexpected attack, he struck at the man before him.

The man barely managed to evade in ti, stepping back just fast enough. If he had been even a fraction of a second slower, his head would have been separated from his body.

Standing at a distance, the man reached up to touch his neck.

A thin red line stretched across his skin, dangerously close to his carotid artery.

Shock flashed through his eyes—he never imagined he would be injured. He was the fastest man alive.

As for how Sian managed to wound him, the man quickly realized—

At the very mont he had tried to lift Sian, the boy had moved at lightning speed, pulling out a simple military dagger hidden beneath his clothes.

It was the sa dagger Sian had concealed before they left the house. Liam’s n hadn’t searched him thoroughly. Whatever trick Sian had used, he had managed to keep the weapon hidden until now.

The man dropped to one knee before the silver-masked figure, bowing his head.

"Lord, this subordinate is unworthy of serving you. Please take my life as atonent for my incompetence."

But the masked man didn’t even glance at him.

His golden eyes remained locked on the wild beauty standing in the distance.

He was captivated by those glowing amber irises.