But...
With only one witness, things were much simpler to handle.
"System, can I see Vivian’s evaluation?" Martin inquired.
The panel unfolded:
[Na: Vivian
Star Rating: 3 Stars
Cultivation Potential: Low
Personal Talent — Coordination: High]
Eyebrows raised at the character panel, Martin mused.
From the fragnted information he had previously acquired, Vivian was a mid-level employee at a cold chain company in Riverland, with only two years on the job.
Her talent for coordination explained her swift career advancent.
Casting aside all other thoughts, Martin said, "I’m going to seal away these true mories of yours and overlay them with false ones. Once the investigation is over, I’ll restore them to you."
Vivian could only nod hesitantly.
She didn’t know what to believe, but she was aware of her powerlessness to resist.
After a mont of silence, Martin added, "Once your mory is restored, we’ll talk about what cos next."
Observing her pretty, wide eyes fixed on him, Martin simply walked away with his bicycle.
A desire to transcend her class, to escape the mundanity of life, sotis dreaming of marrying into wealth, yet possessing a stubbornness to succeed on her own.
This was Vivian.
This was also a true representation of many female white-collar workers of her ti.
Martin saw this quite clearly.
All things considered, Vivian was just an ordinary woman, not bad at all.
The future Divine Shield Association could not possibly consist only of five-star talents.
Given their shared fate as housemates and having experienced extraordinary events in the early stages of a monster invasion, Vivian alone was certainly not soone they couldn’t accommodate.
Of course, everything would have to wait until her mory was restored, for whether she would want to join the Divine Shield Association was another matter altogether.
Martin mounted his bicycle, heading toward his dwelling, so seven or eight kiloters away.
Vivian gazed bewilderedly at his retreating figure, not quite catching up.
Wasn’t he supposed to seal her mory?
But in the next second, her eyes clouded over with confusion, and when she ca to, she found herself standing foolishly in the rain.
Why am I here?
That’s right, I ca to diate a compensation issue for a client, and as I passed by here, I got startled by lightning striking the sa spot repeatedly, and my umbrella was blown away.
Feeling the chill seeping into her bones, she hurried towards her destination.
"What a rotten day!" Vivian lanted in misery.
...
anwhile, inside the abandoned factory.
Eamon was drenched to the bone, his spirit seemingly drained as he stumbled to the blackened remains and began to claw them away, tooth and nail.
The char was hard, its broken edges sharp, but he was heedless, soon covering his hands in fresh blood.
At last, Jovan’s bulging eyes erged from the charred rubble.
The lightning hadn’t struck him.
Eamon reached out with trembling hands, probing around Jovan’s nostrils, then his fingers clenched, tighter and tighter!
Amidst his pain, he fished out a cellphone from Jovan’s pocket, the password still the sa as always, six sixes, never changed.
He tapped the screen thrice, almost numbly, and then held it to his ear.
"Hello, this is the Riverland ergency center," a brisk female voice ca through the phone.
Eamon took a deep breath, his voice devoid of panic, devoid of doubt, gravely clear, "I need to report an incident, location: BB District, middle of Qiu Shan Avenue in the northern food industrial area, in an abandoned factory on the north side."
"Alright, I have noted the address, can you describe what happened?" the operator, not sensing panic in his tone, took a soft breath and asked.
"There’s a monster, one with tentacles all over."
"Ah?" The operator nearly doubted her own ears, "Are you sure?"
"I’m sure. My colleague is dead, my apprentice is dead, my best friend is dead…"
Eamon’s voice was a somber murmur, his hand holding the phone slowly lowered as he knelt to the ground, looking up at the sky.
The relentless rain continued to pour, striking his face, cold to the bone.
His facial muscles trembled, his chest heaved, a sobbing tone creeping in as he bowed his head, "Jovan..."
The next second, he let out a harrowing scream that pierced through the noisy veil of rain, traveling far and wide into the gloom.
...
A helicopter settled steadily at a military base outside Cresthaven.
Under the watchful guard of two escorts in bulging black suits, Emory disembarked from the aircraft. A glance revealed a squadron of ard soldiers who had long been on watch.
Not far off, a camouflaged armored vehicle stood with doors ajar, waiting.
Without much for pleasantries, he exchanged salutes with the local commander and boarded the armored vehicle, leaving the mountains’ shelter behind.
The two guards were stern, no smiles to be seen.
Emory, too, was somber. As the newly appointed head of Solantia’s "Anomaly Bureau," a special departnt, it was his duty to report regularly to his superiors.
This was not bureaucracy but precision.
Because what he was tasked with was far from ordinary.
In introspection, Emory recalled an incident from half a month prior.
At that ti, having only been assigned to the city for two years since his departure from the military, he received a secret reassignnt under the vigilant eyes of many soldiers to Cresthaven.
There, in a room, he watched a video.
At first, there was confusion, as the footage showed the ongoing "Orient-2020" joint military exercises, which had been heavily featured in the news.
Being an institutional man with a military background, Emory had paid close attention and recognized the scenes instantly.
But what followed was beyond his imagination.
The scene shifted to several enormous, writhing, gelatinous creatures in the wastelands.
Then, the video showed self-propelled artillery barrages, intense explosions shaking the earth, kicking up clouds of dust and debris.
Modern artillery was no weak display from a TV drama; a single shot could bring down a building, which was no difficult feat.
As the dust settled, the hillock was nearly leveled.
But...
What shocked Emory was that, despite their sorry state, the sli creatures were still alive, continuing their relentless advance.
Finally, a barrage of rockets traced white arcs across the sky, descending ferociously. After the screen blazed with flas, the wasteland was devoid of life.
The video ended there.
The Anomaly Bureau was ford in secret, with Emory at its head.
Almost every convenience was afforded to him—staff, funding, authority.
It was virtually all-inclusive.
The purpose was clear and daunting.
To ascertain the reason behind the sudden appearance of these monsters, how to prevent them, and to lead a lab of elites from various fields to develop specific counterasures.
As the armored vehicle approached the city outskirts, Emory switched to a black sedan and took the highway into the city, ready to report on recent developnts.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
Recognizing the number, he answered promptly.
A deep, authoritative voice ca through: "A new type of monster has erged in Riverland."
Upon hearing this, Emory’s gaze grew profound...
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