Gao Wu: I inherited the evil organization in the game

Chapter 620 [Mask] Beneath the Mask, There's Another Mask? There's a Face Beneath the Face!!

Finally, he stood up.

He stood stiffly in front of [Masked] in an odd, off-center posture.

His head was raised, his cervical vertebrae cracked, and his two dark eye sockets stared straight at [Mask].

The huge hole in his chest remained open, completely empty.

His skin had completely lost its moisture and elasticity, turning a dark brown like withered tree bark, tightly wrapping around his jagged frame and covered with deep wrinkles.

The blood vessels and fascia inside the body have long since shrunk and shrunk, and not a single drop of blood can be squeezed out.

What should have been eyes are now just two pale white spheres, like glass beads that have been soaked for too long, embedded in their sockets.

His chapped lips parted slightly, revealing shrunken, dark brown gums and a few yellowed, broken teeth.

A viscous black liquid was slowly dripping from the corner of his mouth and into the hole in his chest.

The tall old man "came back to life" in a way that completely desecrated the laws of life.

But this is by no means a resurrection from the "feast" of grace, much less a merciful redemption.

When [Mask] devoured that aging heart, he was not merely consuming a muscle organ.

The heart is merely a ritualistic medium in the replication process.

What he truly devoured were the fragments of the soul that carried the tall old man's consciousness, memories, and emotions.

The essence of the "choose one of three" approach is to chop a complete soul into three delicacies, and then elegantly fork up the piece that suits your taste and put it in your mouth.

What does it mean when the soul is torn apart, devoured, and digested?
It means the soul is scattered and the consciousness is completely annihilated.

This is utter, ultimate death, and no power can bring back a complete "person" from such utter dissipation.

What stands up again now is nothing more than the shell left behind by the tall old man.

What drives it is no longer the complex instructions issued by the brain, nor will and emotion, but the instinctive reaction honed in countless life-and-death battles, remaining in muscle fibers and nerve endings.

Interestingly, when the brain, the "central processing unit," is completely removed, the primitive reflex arcs deeply embedded in the spinal cord and peripheral nerves are actually "liberated" and "strengthened" like never before.

The transmission of neural signals no longer requires layers of complex synaptic connections and conscious judgment, becoming exceptionally direct and rapid.

Speed, reaction time, and purely physical destructive power have all been abnormally enhanced.

It's like a blind person whose lack of vision forces their hearing to become exceptionally acute, even allowing them to detect subtle sounds that ordinary people cannot perceive.

At this moment, the tall old man's corpse is like a "blind man" who has lost the highest level of "consciousness," and the most basic and primitive "muscle hearing" of his body has been amplified to the extreme.

In short, the tall old man is now a zombie, and a zombie who knows martial arts.

He became dumber, but he also became stronger.

Just how stupid is it? Commands of more than five words can cause it to crash.

[Limit Break Skill - Nirvana Breath (Active)!]
When you kill someone, you can choose to let them rest in peace or to let them achieve nirvana.

Those who undergo Nirvana experience the annihilation of their souls, returning to nothingness, but their remaining bodies are endowed with a vitality surpassing that of their former lives, transforming them into empty shells that merely execute simple commands!
[P.S.: Nirvana is not rebirth, but the beginning of a lifeless existence!]
Just then, a deliberately soft but still clear sound of footsteps came from the other end of the sewer pipe.

Ma Bin's figure emerged from the darkness, his gaze immediately drawn to the tall old man's resurrected corpse.

Even with Ma Bin's strong will and experience of many trials, a hint of undisguised surprise flashed across his eyes at this moment.

He witnessed firsthand the tall old man being killed and drained of his blood, and he also saw [Masked] reach into his chest cavity.

But when I saw the corpse stand up again, I was still incredibly shocked.

It wasn't the corpse that shocked them to come back to life, but rather the fact that their superior had once again displayed a bizarre ability.

The shock he felt at this moment was very similar to what the tall old man had thought before his death—was his own online ability really a little too much?

He suddenly felt a strange pity for those who had been, were, or would be enemies of [Masked].

"Possessing so many bizarre, powerful, and diverse abilities..."

Ma Bin was secretly alarmed, his fingertips unconsciously supporting the frame of his glasses.
"Even within the organization, this is quite rare, so the status of someone who goes up in the organization is definitely not low, and may even be higher than I imagined?"

However, he couldn't guess exactly how high it was.

Furthermore, no matter how hard he racked his brains, he couldn't recall or even hear of any important figure in the upper echelons of [Fate] whose code name was [Mask].

There are only two possibilities:
Either [Mask]'s level of secrecy is too high for him to know, or [Mask] is actually a disguise for a real big shot within the organization!
Once the thought arose, it grew wildly in his mind like weeds.

Ma Bin's gaze involuntarily lingered on the pale mask before him, his mind filled with doubts:

"Is the face 'Feng Mu' behind the mask really the real person behind the scenes?"

If [the mask] is Feng Mu's mask, then could "Feng Mu" also be another mask?

That possibility isn't entirely out of the question!
After all, it is not difficult for an organization to make one person completely take over another person's identity and live their life.

Moreover, Ma Bin, as a subordinate, had thoroughly investigated Feng Mu's life and background in private.

This is not a sign of being rebellious, but rather a basic quality of a qualified subordinate.

Only by fully understanding the details of what's going on with our superiors can we coordinate our actions more accurately and complete our tasks more perfectly.

If there were only some vague doubts before, Ma Bin can now be basically certain that Feng Mu is probably no longer the original Feng Mu.

Beneath Feng Mu's seemingly genuine face, there may very well be another, unknown face hidden.

Ma Bin didn't intend to investigate Feng Mu's true identity; he was just too perceptive, and his thoughts kept uncontrollably connecting various clues.

This is perhaps a common flaw in intelligent people—they always overthink things.

To some extent, Ma Bin's guess at this moment is very close to the truth.

He was still too cautious. If he had been a little bolder, he might have guessed that behind Feng Mu's face were not just higher-ups at [Destiny], but actually [Destiny's]...

Ma Bin cut off his own thoughts and buried all his suspicions in his heart.

A smart downline member understands that some things can be kept unspoken but should never be spoken aloud.

Never be the one to break the silence unless the answer is revealed by the platform.

As Ma Bin's mind raced, he stopped a short distance from [Mask], maintaining a respectful distance.

Previously, his awe or obedience to [Mask] was the awe or obedience of a subordinate to a superior; now, it also includes his awe or obedience to Feng Mu.

The zombie elder sensed the approach of the living person. Its lifeless white eyes suddenly turned towards Ma Bin, its cracked lips parted, and a low, threatening "hoarse" sound came from deep in its throat.

However, he merely bared his teeth in a threatening gesture, raising his withered claws slightly, but made no further move to attack.

Like a vicious dog chained up, though its ferocity was palpable, it dared not act on its own without its master's command. In life, it was a loyal bodyguard, absolutely devoted to its master; in death, it remained a zombie, equally loyal to its master.

Even if he lost his mind, loyalty was an indelible mark etched into his very bones.

In fact, it was precisely because he was dead that his loyalty became even more absolute.

Death warriors, death warriors, they only truly deserve the name when they die.

[Mask] seemed quite satisfied with the performance of this "new toy." He turned to Ma Bin, and a metallic voice with a hint of pleasure emanated from beneath the mask:

"I accept this first 'gift'."

[Masked] pointed to the corpse of the special envoy not far away and ordered:

"However, I'll leave it with you for a few days for now, and I'll come back to pick it up later."

Having said that, the masked man looked at the zombie elder and gave the order:
"Get on his back and follow him."

The instructions were simple: pick up the things on the ground and follow the person in front of you.

However, for a brainless zombie, understanding and performing these two actions still requires "processing" time.

The old zombie's lifeless white eyes rolled stiffly a few times, as if trying to "decipher" the command.

He stiffly twisted his neck, his head first turning towards the corpse of the special envoy on the ground, then stiffly turning towards Ma Bin, and finally turning back to the corpse.

It took him a full five seconds to seem to "figure out" what he was supposed to do.

He started walking, his movements still strange. At first, he walked, but then both his hands fell to the ground, and he changed to a quadrupedal crawling posture.

Clearly, this is the muscle's instinct to autonomously choose a more efficient way of walking.

He quickly crawled to the envoy's body, stretched out his withered claws, grabbed the envoy's shoulder, and effortlessly lifted him up, draping him askew over his own emaciated back.

Then, he turned around, carrying the corpse on his back, and walked with extremely strange steps, swaying as he stood behind Ma Bin.

Throughout the process, there is no need to stabilize the corpse on your back. The muscles of your whole body will adjust and sway with the center of gravity of the swaying corpse, making the corpse on your back like a roly-poly toy, swaying left and right but standing still.

"Extremely precise muscle control."

Ma Bin could naturally understand what this scene meant.

If they can even carry corpses to this extent, it's unimaginable how efficient they would be if used to kill people.

Sure enough, a person's martial arts talent gets an epic boost after death.

Fortunately, Ma Bin wasn't a combatant; otherwise, he would have wanted Feng Mu to die for him.

Ma Bin took a deep breath and turned to look at the man and the corpse—no, he looked at the two corpses stacked on top of each other.

The zombie old man carried the corpse on his back, his head held high, his dead white eyes staring straight at the back of Ma Bin's head, like a silent and terrifying shadow.

I must say, this scene is quite creepy.

A glint appeared in Ma Bin's eyes; he seemed to understand how [Mask] would handle the gift he had given.

If they can "resurrect" a tall old man into a zombie that obeys orders, then what difficulty would it be for the superiors to "resurrect" a special envoy?
The key point is that a zombie-like special envoy can't be exposed in public, unless...
Ma Bin's thoughts suddenly froze, and an even more bizarre possibility surfaced in his mind.

No way?
No way!
Is it really possible to achieve that level?

Ma Bin's breathing quickened involuntarily, and his gaze toward [Mask] was filled with an undisguised burning desire.

He didn't say anything more, but simply followed [Masked]'s orders and left the sewer with the two corpses.

[Masked]'s figure disappeared from the spot at the same time. He still had to deal with the second gift and rush to the next appointment.

………….
The deathly silence of the night was shattered by a muffled clap of thunder.

It wasn't thunder; it was an explosion from underground.

The roar erupted from the heart of the abandoned chemical plant in District 9, sweeping ruthlessly across several blocks.

The glass windows vibrated and hummed, the car alarms on the parked cars blared wildly, and countless residents, awakened from their sleep, opened their windows, their bewildered eyes all turning towards the direction of the factory.

The blue and white police car was gliding aimlessly through the streets, and then the next second it suddenly swerved, its tires screeching against the ground, and the front of the car turned towards the factory.

The red and blue flashing police lights on the roof of the car sounded an urgent alarm, and the rotating beams of light cut through the thick darkness, illuminating the bizarre afterimages of the withered trees rushing past the roadside.

Chang Erbing gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning bluish-white from excessive force, while his right foot seemed welded to the accelerator, pressing the pedal hard into the bottom of the car.

"Captain Li... he's blown up!"

Chang Erbing's voice cracked. He turned to look at Li Xiang in the passenger seat, his pupils reflecting the chaotic red and blue light of the overhead light, and deeper within, a profound fear.

"Do you think the special envoy was really killed in the bombing?"

Li Xiang didn't reply. He was just a detective; he didn't have the supernatural ability to see through a thousand miles.

At this moment, all he could do was keep pounding on the dashboard, his voice hoarse as he urged them on:
"Stop talking nonsense, drive faster."

The screeching sound of brakes came to an abrupt halt in front of the rusty, chain-bound gates of the abandoned factory.

They didn't even need to go around to the manhole cover; even through the factory gate, they could see a gruesome gash tearing the earth apart in the overgrown open space in the center of the factory area.

The concrete and asphalt were violently torn apart and thrown like fragile eggshells, revealing a huge, dark hole underneath.

The nearby water tower had completely collapsed and tilted, its huge tank smashed on the ground, twisted and deformed like a soda can, with murky sewage gushing out from the cracks.

"Let's go!" Li Xiang said hoarsely.

"Let's go!" Chang Erbing gritted his teeth and agreed.

The two exchanged a glance and got out of the car almost simultaneously.

The cold night wind, carrying dust, filled their mouths and noses, causing both of them to cough violently a few times.

Li Xiang raised his hand and tightened his cuffs.

A cold, hard sensation came through the fabric; it was the hilt of the dagger hidden inside.

Wait a minute, if the special envoy is lucky enough to survive, he'll have to finish him off with a few more stabs.

Chang Erbing then took a square law enforcement recorder from his lower back, turned it on with slightly clumsy movements, and the indicator light in front of the lens lit up with a faint red light, like a malicious eye.

In the Ninth District Police Station, this thing was forgotten in a drawer nine and a half times out of ten when they went to the scene.

But tonight is different.

Civilized law enforcement in District Nine began with these two…
(End of this chapter)