The furious flow of magical light raged on for an unknown duration, shattering all the walls in the top floor, as the scorching tallic steam mingled with a burnt odor filled the air.
Large prefabricated slabs, twisted and broken rebar, remnants of casting units’ barrels, and fallen shuttles lay piled up here. Moonlight poured down unobstructed, sprinkling the tragic ruins with silver frost.
Beneath a broken concrete slab, fine gravel tumbled softly down.
Bloodied and with one electronic eye completely dead, Dead-Eye Bryce lay there. Initially planning to play dead, he had no choice but to crawl out from the rubble, drawn by the approaching footsteps.
To his surprise, there was no second person, no imagined federal anti-terror team; the only enemy present was the silver-haired girl.
But why is there only one person?!
This shouldn’t be possible; it defied logic!
Moonlight outlined the girl’s slender silhouette, like a doll crafted of silver. Bryce’s gaze slowly rose, and he saw several rune halos of varying diaters silently rotating above the girl’s head, seeming alive and emanating distinct colorful lights.
His throat tightened as he collapsed weakly to the ground, feeling as if his worldview was about to be upended—A mage… a top-tier mage? But how could such an elite mage be here? Who exactly is she?!
He rifled through his mory, but none of the renowned world-class experts matched the image of this silver-haired, crimson-eyed beauty, as if she had erged from thin air!
“Ah~~” At that mont, a scream ca from beside him. Bryce looked over and found it was a small boss, also a survivor, jumping down from the 12th floor.
Usually, they would be capable of jumping down from this height because they had gliding devices; even a heavy-set cyborg, reminiscent of an iron man, could leverage the gliding device to gracefully descend.
However, during the recent battle, they missed the best opportunity to flee, and the gliding devices in the warehouse had long been destroyed. Now, jumping down ant pure suicide due to the cyborg’s gravity and speed.
“Who are you?!” Fear completely overshadowed the pain as the silver-haired girl approached. Bryce nervously said, “This is the general’s territory. If you dare to move against , the general will ensure you die a horrible death! There’s no way out for you in all of Rustbone!”
“The general?” Yvette’s footsteps stopped a few ters away from him. “Introduce him to .”
“Who in the borderlands of Rustbone doesn’t know the ‘General’? He’s the leader of the Ghost Hand Society, and no one dares to defy him! Even if you are strong, you are just one person, whereas the general can mobilize countless others to deal with you!”
Desperation gripped Bryce as if grasping at a lifeline. “Stop now and let go! I can… I can help you negotiate! Otherwise, you won’t live to leave the Firth!”
“Is that so?” Yvette shook her head, asking casually, “Tell , who is harder to provoke, the Ghost Hand Society’s General, or the major corporation ‘Lin Tui Bio’ in the United New Eden?”
Bryce paused, thinking it was unfair to compare the two without defining the degree of provocation. If the situation was trivial, major corporations would not even bother. Yet if they took notice… the severity of being targeted by them certainly exceeded that of the General.
“I slashed Lin Tui Bio’s market value by a third, forcing the retired founder ‘Old Cyrus’ to apologize to the public and return to power… Do you think under these circumstances I would dare not provoke your ‘General’?” Yvette stared at him, then felt it unnecessary to elaborate.
Why explain these things to soone who’s about to die?
“Get ‘Old Cyrus’ to apologize? What are you blabbering… huh?” Bryce’s voice hitched. Being a New Eden native, he was naturally aware of the major news back ho and gradually recognized her identity, his face paling as he stamred, “Could you possibly be the…”
In an instant, a wave of helplessness surged within him—no wonder she remained so calm! Compared to the enraged Lin Tui Bio, his superior “the General” was insignificant!
But…
Can I surrender?
Since she is a righteous hero, she should uphold procedural justice, right? Would she allow to voluntarily accept a trial? Isn’t that a glimr of hope…
With that thought, Bryce resolved to persuade her from this angle. Yet before he could speak, the “procedurally just hero” before him charred his brain with lightning, not giving him a chance to plead for his life.
…
After dealing with the facility head, Dead-Eye Bryce, Yvette patrolled the floor, executing the remaining high-ranking slavers who hadn’t escaped.
Of course, so slavers, sensing danger, chose to jump. During their descent, Yvette rely observed but secretly assisted them, using wind magic to accelerate their fall.
Thus, the cyborgs, who might have had a slim chance upon jumping, ended up splattering into a mixture of flesh and tal, creating a scene of unimaginable carnage.
Confirming that the top floor was devoid of life, Yvette walked to where the staircase’s entrance should be. A concrete slab and tal railing blocked the passage. With a casual wave, she sent the heavy obstacle flying, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Below, Cromwell stood on the stairs, nervously and blankly watching her.
Due to the intense battle and the overwhelming aftermath, he had been unable to glimpse anything, remaining on the two floors below until the commotion above ceased.
Thus, he had no idea what had happened and only felt as if the upstairs had transford into a vast battlefield. Besides worrying for the Miss Naless, he could do nothing.
Upon seeing the Miss Naless erge unscathed, he breathed a sigh of relief, but shock quickly followed. He hadn’t expected her to defeat “Dead-Eye” Bryce and “Blackblade” Okasi.
Perhaps she had even taken on two, or more!
After all, slavers won’t play fair—they must have attacked all at once.
“Could you wait a mont and let go up?” Cromwell asked, both excited and curious.
A large concrete slab had sealed off the stairway entrance. He had no idea what the top floor looked like and could only see that gravel continued to fall from above, the noise akin to ten households renovating simultaneously.
As an undercover journalist, although his infiltration had failed, his journalist instincts remained.
He intended to capture the scene with the implanted cerebral chip in his body, hoping to recreate the fierce battle for readers later, so they could feel the strength of the Miss Naless and the safety that stood behind her.
“Sure.” Yvette had no objections.
Cromwell expressed his gratitude, brushed off the dust from his clothes, and began to ascend. But after only a few steps, a puzzled expression crossed his face as he looked back at the sign for the 12th floor, confirming he hadn’t gone the wrong way.
But… where did the top floor go?
Why was it just a rooftop upon ascending?
…
Ten minutes later, a stunned and speechless Cromwell ca down from the “rooftop.”
Although he had already imagined an intensely fierce scene while waiting, the mont he viewed the actual site, he fell silent for a long ti, unsure how to describe it in words—an entire floor had been destroyed! The 12-floor building was now reduced to 11! Miss Naless, are you a mage or a bulldozer? This is absurd!
Due to the inadequacy of verbal description, he decided to simply include pictures and videos later; let readers imagine what had truly occurred.
Afterward, he slightly nodded to the Miss Naless waiting in the stairwell, and the two began to walk down, intending to join Donnell, Reese, and the others below, and seek assistance from the border control.
However, as they walked on the dust and debris-strewn steps, Cromwell suddenly sensed a chilling sensation wash over him from all directions.
The next mont, the scene before him began to twist and ripple violently!
The originally stained gray-white concrete walls suddenly writhed and bulged as if hiding countless parasites. Rubbing his eyes, he looked again and saw bloodshot eyeballs inexplicably drilling out from the wall, densely packed and overlapping! With looks filled with infinite malice, they all fixated on the two descending!
Cold sweat instantly soaked his back; Cromwell was horrified and clueless about what was happening.
He instinctively glanced down, only to find that around the Miss Naless’s landing, in the dim shadows, countless semi-transparent, water vapor-like hands erged. They quietly reached out from the stair surface, wall edges, and even the space below their feet, grasping at the Miss Naless’s ankles, encased in long boots.
Cromwell struggled, desperately opening his mouth to scream a warning to the Miss Naless to be careful of her feet, but his voice was caught in his throat, unable to escape.
Not only that, but he was shocked to find that even the use of his techniques had beco sluggish. He attempted to summon water wave flas, but the speed at which the rune circles ford was as slow as a crawling turtle.
How could this be? Had he encountered a ghost? Or was this rely a nightmare?
Cromwell numbly pondered, and then he saw the transparent ghostly claws entwining around the Miss Naless’s boots, pulling forcefully toward the shadows below, as if attempting to drag her into an unending abyss of darkness.
It’s over… Cromwell thought in despair, he had never witnessed such bizarre occurrences and montarily lost the ability to think, rely watching as the Miss Naless sank deeper and deeper, unable to help.
But…
Maintaining this sense of despair, he gradually felt sothing strange.
Because he noticed that the Miss Naless’s descent was unimpeded.
Her boots lifted effortlessly and fell again. The countless transparent arms wrapped around her boots futilely strained and stretched to their limits before twisting and distorting, like ants futilely trying to shake a tree.
What does this an? Cromwell thought in confusion.
Then, suddenly, he saw the Miss Naless seemingly notice sothing, pausing her steps, raising her hand, and lightly snapping her fingers, casting a barrage of lightning and fire toward a shadowy corner.
Then, with a silent but furious scream, the scene before him shattered like broken glass, displaying a series of cracks.
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