Translator: CinderTL
Screams and cries for help echoed through the auditorium as the celebratory revelry instantly transformed into a desperate scramble for survival.
In that moment of panic, the audience seemed to forget that many among them also bore Gates and wielded such power.
"What is that thing?" someone gasped, staring in horror at the stage.
As the initial shock subsided, the Night Watchers' training kicked in. They recognized the newcomer as another Disciple of the Door, but one whose Gate had spiraled completely out of control.
Now, he was a walking supernatural event, and if left unchecked, he might drag them all into that unstable Gate.
"Enemy attack!"
"Enemy attack!"
The shrill whistle blasts rang out only a few times before abruptly ceasing.
The whistle's silence coincided with the sudden disappearance of the rampaging Disciple of the Door and those closest to him.
The space within the auditorium twisted visibly, the distortion radiating outward from the Disciple like ripples in a pond.
An eerie black ripple spread across the floor, its epicenter collapsing into a pitch-black abyss that seemed to devour even light.
Those touched by the waves froze momentarily before being completely swallowed by the tar-like darkness.
They weren't dead, merely caught in a terrifying supernatural event.
An Xuan moved swiftly. Before anyone could react to the sudden crisis, he had already dragged Wei Jinting out of the auditorium. The heavy wooden doors proved no match for his kick.
They raced down a narrow path to the underground parking garage. An inconspicuous black sedan waited in a corner, its engine roaring to life as soon as they emerged.
The driver, a woman with a composed demeanor but striking figure and unforgettable pale blue eyes, leaped out and took the barely conscious Wei Jinting from An Xuan's arms. "Get in the car!" she urged.
Wan Yuanning, who had come to assist, helped toss the blood-soaked Wei Jinting into the back seat. To her astonishment, An Xuan didn't follow. Instead, he pointed his gun at Wei Jinting, who was lying prone in the back.
A gunshot shattered the air. A crimson flower blossomed from Wei Jinting's knee, and his body contorted like a cooked shrimp.
"Are you insane?!" Wan Yuanning gasped, staring at An Xuan in horror.
"My team's death was orchestrated by the Night Watch Executive Department, but you played a part," An Xuan said coldly. "Our debt is settled. Now I'm going back to settle the score with those old bastards at Night Watcher Headquarters!"
Wan Yuanning, having already inherited No. 4 Gate, couldn't fathom An Xuan's intentions. "What are you going back for? To throw your life away?"
"The Disciple of the Door inside was an S-Class monster before he was corrupted. His Gate is unique, and his obsession runs deep. Someone like you would be torn apart if you got dragged in!" Wan Yuanning seemed to know more than she let on, making her even more desperate to stop An Xuan from his reckless course. "By Night Watcher standards, the supernatural event inside is at least approaching S-Class."
For the Night Watcher's underground website, the highest-level supernatural event ever listed was only A-Class.
Supernatural events above A-Class were never posted for two reasons: first, no one would take on such cases, and no one could handle them; second, secrecy was paramount. Some supernatural events were so terrifying and unresolvable that public knowledge of them could easily incite widespread panic.
"Miss Wan, just mind your own business."
"And remember to stop his bleeding. I promised he wouldn't die."
With that, An Xuan turned and ran back the way he had come.
Wan Yuanning watched his retreating figure, acutely aware that this first encounter would also be their last.
In a sense, they were kindred spirits. Both had been willing to sacrifice their lives for a grand and righteous cause, only to be plunged into temporary confusion when that cause crumbled.
The attack on Night Watcher Headquarters was unprecedented. But after the initial panic, the remaining personnel demonstrated remarkable professionalism.
All exits were sealed, preventing anyone from leaving the Headquarters, while wave after wave of elite operatives poured in to join the rescue operation.
Fortunately, Wan Yuanning, with Wei Jinting in tow, had managed to break through the blockade before it was fully established. They slipped into the heavy traffic and vanished without a trace.
In the car, Wan Yuanning dialed a number. "Tong Che, I've secured the target. We're on our way back now!"
Visibly concerned about being followed, she frequently glanced at the rearview mirror, her voice tense.
"Relax, sis! Don't sound so stressed—you're making me nervous too," a slightly childish voice replied, with a hint of exasperation. "You know I've got everything covered, right? Nothing escapes my notice."
"No. 4 isn't dead yet. He can hang on for a few more days. We still need to consult him about funeral arrangements—whether he wants a traditional or Western ceremony, and what kind of service he prefers."
Lately, being around these lunatics had frayed Wan Yuanning's nerves. Crimson Number 13, despite his childlike appearance, always spoke with the solemn tone of an old sage.
At first, she thought it might be the Gate's influence, given his deductive abilities.
But No. 8 shook her head dismissively. "Nah, Number 13 just has a punchable face. A good beating will set him straight."
She then demonstrated this personally, beating Number 13 until he cried for his mommy and daddy. Sure enough, for days afterward, the boy's tone was far more agreeable.
Fatty dozed on the sofa, having barely slept for several nights, convinced something was about to happen.
The Doctor had barely left his room these past few days, eating only what Fatty prepared. Even then, he'd come down for a quick bite. Fatty sensed something was off with the Doctor, but when asked, he refused to elaborate.
Just after dinner, the Doctor suddenly asked, "Has Lin Wan'er been here recently?"
The question stunned Fatty. Firstly, he knew his relationship with Boss Lin wasn't that close; if she were to visit, she'd come to see the Doctor, not him.
Secondly, this was the first time Fatty could remember the Doctor ever asking about Boss Lin.
Fatty hesitated for a moment before saying, "Doctor, do you need to talk to Boss Lin about something? If so, why don't you just give her a call?"
He paused, realizing his words might be misinterpreted. His mouth twitched, and he quickly added, "The call won't cost much."
Fatty immediately regretted his words. He expected the Doctor, with his notoriously petty nature, to seize on the comment and accuse him of implying he was stingy.
To Fatty's surprise, the Doctor said nothing. He took a few bites of his meal and then returned upstairs.
While clearing the table, Fatty noticed the Doctor had barely touched his food. He had only sipped some soup, leaving almost all the dishes untouched.
"What's wrong with the Doctor?" Fatty couldn't help but worry. He instinctively sensed that something was different this time. The light in the Doctor's eyes had vanished.
(End of the Chapter)
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