Bang—!
A massive figure smashed straight through the door, slamd hard into the wall, then slid down… and after that, it no longer moved. Its life had already been completely extinguished.
On its chest was a blood hole the size of a fist.
Beyond the ruined doorway, Mind Witch slowly walked out. After a casual glance, she turned away. Inside the room, Farrell—his hair and body already cleaned—put on a white suit with a blue shirt and stepped out unhurriedly.
Miss Witch’s work was decent. She hadn’t given this most vicious knight in history any strange hairstyle—just a clean, neat short cut.
He looked even more solid now… actually starting to put on so flesh. Miss Witch thought to herself: was this guy really poisoned and only able to use barely over ten percent of his strength?
“Why did that guy suddenly go berserk?” Miss Witch frowned. “Knight Bureau should have vaccinated all registered beast-blooded citizens who live and work normally, to suppress frenzy.”
Farrell said calmly, “They’re probably still using the old formula. It still works, but after generations, so resistance has built up. The beast nature isn’t erased—once triggered, it only becos more extre.”
As he spoke, he turned to look out the window. Fires raged across the city, screams echoing nonstop. Suddenly, Farrell’s gaze locked onto Mind Witch.
His eyes were like eternal starlight. Even with her psychic abilities, she felt as though she were standing beneath a vast cosmos, unbearably small.
Miss Gillian forced a charming smile. “Sir Knight… are you asking out on a date?”
Farrell pondered briefly, then frowned. “What role, exactly, are you playing in this incident?”
Almost the instant he finished speaking, Farrell moved.
Ignoring all of the psychic witch’s defenses, he seized her by the neck as if lifting a child, raised her up, and pinned her against the wall.
She struggled in agony, legs kicking helplessly in midair as suffocation tightened around her. Was this the sa despair the Knights of the Round Table felt when facing Farrell?
“I—it was … I got you out… out of prison… gave you… the antidote…” she gasped, gripping his arm in terror.
Between opening and closing his eyes, Farrell suddenly grew quiet. His fingers slowly loosened… very slowly, stiff as if unwilling to move.
Miss Witch didn’t wait for him to fully release her. The mont she felt slack, she struggled desperately to pry his fingers open.
She dropped to the floor, sliding down the wall, gasping for air, her body trembling uncontrollably. She looked up in fear at the man with the calm expression.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” he said coldly, without the slightest comfort. “Don’t worry—my promise stands. What I agreed to, I will do. I will personally deliver what you want… to your gravestone.”
“You…” Miss Gillian shuddered instinctively.
At the most dangerous mont just now, she had used her psychic power to try to invade his mind—but her power was instantly overwheld by the madness, violence, grief, and countless negative emotions within him.
For a brief instant, it felt as though she had spent a hundred years in hell inside his mind.
“Oberon…”
After coughing painfully, she continued to gulp fresh air and said nervously, “He’s the leader of an organization called Doomsday Myth. They’ve recruited many people wanted by the Magicians’ Association. On the surface, they look like an anti–Magicians’ Association group—but that’s just a cover. In truth, they’re devoted to beastman liberation. Almost all of Doomsday Myth’s core mbers have beastman blood.”
“Beastn…” Farrell murmured thoughtfully.
Miss Witch continued, “It took a long ti to get close to their inner circle. The antidote I gave you earlier was made by one of Doomsday Myth’s secret alchemists—of course, I gathered the materials myself.”
She sneaked a glance at Farrell. Seeing no reaction, she lowered her head and continued.
“Lift your head. Look at .”
With no choice, she raised her head and said through clenched teeth, “I overheard their plan for this operation and had an idea… just an idea. But fate seed to favor . During their first move, one mber ssed up and was captured by Knight Bureau.”
“Was it really a mistake?” Farrell’s gaze turned razor-sharp.
Miss Witch shivered and hurriedly said, “Really! I was planning to act myself, but for so reason Red was badly injured and fell into Joker Dagonet’s hands. I’m not lying!”
“Go on.”
She continued slowly, “Doomsday Myth once asked to place ntal protections on their operatives, to keep them from revealing plans under interrogation. Red had my ntal protection—he wouldn’t be able to talk for a while, which left Knight Bureau helpless.”
“So you appeared before them and demanded to see , in exchange?” Farrell quickly pieced it together and shook his head slightly.
“That was no different from suicide!” Miss Witch argued. “How could a small organization possibly stand against Knight Bureau and the British governnt? Since they were ready to die anyway, clinging to a death wish… why couldn’t I take advantage of it?”
“You’re very much like your mother,” Farrell said softly.
For a split second, Miss Witch froze. It felt like an illusion—but she thought she saw a fleeting trace of complexity in his eyes.
Then he asked coldly, “Is that all? I don’t tolerate even the slightest lie.”
“That’s really all—really,” she said quickly. “Except… except…”
“Except what?”
She frowned. “This is just my guess, but it seems Doomsday Myth’s leader had contact with soone in the governnt before this plan began. I suspect Oberon’s actions aren’t that simple. I don’t believe he’d do sothing that looks so foolish. But my power can’t penetrate his mind, so I don’t know his true intentions—and he’s never truly trusted . Even this operation involved only Doomsday Myth’s real core. At least a third of their mbers are still in Europe, playing cat-and-mouse with the Magicians’ Association. But no matter what… I did succeed in getting you out of prison.”
“Foolish…” Farrell gazed at the spreading flas outside the window, lost in thought.
Suddenly, he turned and walked straight out.
Miss Witch hurriedly asked, “Where are you going?”
“Besides helping you look for sothing… I’ll do a bit of work,” Farrell replied without looking back as he headed down the hotel stairs.
Miss Witch had no choice but to scramble to her feet and follow after him.
……
……
Inside the social service center.
The berserk beastman was bound with special restraints made by the Knight Bureau—one of the items found in Nick’s car.
Even so, the frenzied beastman clearly hadn’t fully cald down. Its crimson eyes were still wide open, saliva dripping from its mouth. It hadn’t reverted to its original state, but instead lingered on the verge of eruption, like a volcano about to explode—any slight stimulus could send it berserk again.
Still, the beastwoman’s thod of soothing it was clearly effective, though the results were far from ideal.
Lale felt afraid and confused. She hugged her arms tightly and stood in front of it, her expression dim.
Klein and Neil walked over. With a translation app open, Klein spoke slowly, “Miss Lale, his condition is obviously very bad. May I ask—do you know what happened?”
Lale seed frightened as she looked toward the night sky outside. “A call… we heard a primal call. It awakened the most primitive beast nature within us. They couldn’t resist that primal impulse, lost themselves, and fell into frenzy.”
“So that’s why you hurt yourself—to stay conscious?” Klein quickly understood the aning behind her earlier actions.
Lale nodded silently. “I’m a mixed-blood, so my beast nature is weaker than that of pure-bloods.”
Klein took a deep breath. “Miss Lale, the situation is dangerous, so I’ll be brief. There’s a violent criminal who used so unknown thod to forcibly drive almost all beastn in Foggy City into frenzy. As you can see, the city is now a sea of fire. We need you—Miss Lale—or rather, we need your thod that can calm them down.”
This was the result of a brief discussion between Klein and Nick after witnessing Lale’s strange ability. They hadn’t reported it to the Knight Bureau yet, since they weren’t sure it would work.
Besides, the Knight Bureau in Foggy City was practically empty now. Everyone—including logistics staff—had been mobilized to suppress the riot.
“You an… the Pact of the Moon?” Lale frowned.
“The song you sang—is it called Pact of the Moon?”
Lale nodded. “It’s a ritual chant we sing when worshipping our ancestors. It helps us calm down. I don’t know if it really works—I just wanted to try. You saw it yourself… the effect wasn’t very obvious.”
The beastman was still on the brink of chaos, struggling and roaring from ti to ti like a tethered wild beast.
“Even if it only slows them down a little, that would help us imnsely!” Klein said urgently. “Miss Lale, can you help us?”
Lale frowned. “Why should I help you? Help you suppress my people, only to wait for your blades to fall?”
“We only want to resolve this crisis,” Klein said earnestly. “We don’t intend to hurt anyone—humans or your people. These beastn have legal identities here, stable jobs, normal lives. They could have lived peacefully, but now they’re trapped in endless suffering. I believe they have families, companions, friends, neighbors. If they were conscious, they’d never want to see themselves destroying this city. You can feel their pain, can’t you?”
The girl hesitated, looking back at the raging beastman with a trace of pity.
“Please believe us—believe , Miss Lale!” Klein bowed ninety degrees, then quickly straightened and pressed Nick’s waist down into the sa bow. “I swear by the na of a knight—I only want to help them and quell this riot! Afterward, I’ll personally beg my superior, the great Mr. Gareth, one of the Twelve Knights, to plead on their behalf. They’re victims, not criminals deserving unfair treatnt!”
“You’re not lying,” Lale said softly after exhaling. She finally nodded. “All right… I’ll try. But how should I do it? Teach you the Pact of the Moon?”
Klein was overjoyed. Nick, finally able to straighten up, snatched Klein’s phone and said, “I’m afraid that won’t work. I don’t think we can unleash the power of that chant—so we still need you!”
“It’s a ritual chant, not a lullaby!” the beastwoman snapped fiercely.
“Either way!” Nick said quickly. “I already have a rough plan! But I need everyone to act and help !”
As he spoke, Nick looked out the window at a truck that had crashed into the center’s wall amid the chaos, whistling. “First, we need to modify this big guy.”
……
……
Song Imperial Dynasty Hotel.
The presidential suite door flew open in a hurry. Mr. Peter Chen rushed in, gripping a tal baseball bat, wearing an ancient European chainmail suit, his expression anxious.
“Young Master Qiu! Oh God, thank goodness you’re all right!”
Mr. Chen struck a loyal, protective pose, one hand pressing down on the motorcycle helt on his head. “It’s dangerous outside! Don’t be afraid, Young Master Qiu—I’ll protect you! I’ve called all the security up to this floor. I guarantee not even a fly can get in—”
A fly zipped past his eyes.
“…in.”
Smack.
“Where did Mr. Chen get that armor?” Boss Luo asked curiously at Peter Chen’s mismatched appearance.
“This? It’s an antique from the exhibition hall—I just put it on!” Peter Chen puffed out his chest. “What do you think? There are a few more—want one? I think you should!”
“Thank you,” Luo Qiu smiled slightly. “But I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Also… Mr. Chen, are you sleepy?”
“Sleepy?” Peter Chen exclaid. “How could I be sleepy at a ti like this! I’m wide awake! Any rioters or terrorists who co—I’ll make them co in upright and leave horizontal!”
“No. You’re sleepy,” Luo Qiu said softly. “All of you are.”
Silently, Peter Chen collapsed to the floor, snoring loudly. Like a ripple spreading outward, dull thuds echoed outside the door as well.
In an instant, everyone in the Song Imperial Dynasty Hotel—guests, staff, even the rats fleeing through the parking lot—lost consciousness.
Luo Qiu waved his hand. A curtain of light appeared, layer upon layer unfolding before him.
He said casually, “So… where should I start?”
(End of Chapter)
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