Tokyo: The Player Behind the Scenes.

Chapter 319, Section 66: Fireworks Filling the Sky

Inside the ward, Ping Shenglong leaned quietly against the headboard, his gaze passing through the glass window as he looked in the distance. The continuous bursts of fire from the explosions gradually dimmed and eventually subsided completely.

He didn't actually need to witness it with his own eyes; he already knew the outcome.

Based on his experience, he judged that for extraordinary calamities that could manifest at this scale, the firepower of ordinary humans would hardly play a decisive role.

Similar to the saying that only magic can defeat magic, it was also rumored within the investigation team that only the extraordinary could defeat the extraordinary.

This is not self-deprecation, but a helpless reality summarized after countless painful lessons.

Even though the destructive power of those missiles and bombs far exceeds the power demonstrated by individual superhumans when calculated in terms of pure yield, the result is that they are no match for the superhuman response.

The extraordinary often possesses a mystical characteristic that cannot be explained by known laws; conventional methods are unlikely to reach its core and may even backfire.

Just as he was lost in thought, the door to the ward was gently pushed open.

Kurosaki Chimei peeked out from the crack in the door. Only after he saw with his own eyes that Heisei Ryu had woken up and was sitting up on the bed did his tense shoulders relax a little, and he quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

He pushed open the door, grabbed a chair, and sat down next to Ping Shenglong's hospital bed.

"Leon has spoken, saying that if you can't hold on, you can be allowed to return to Japan to recuperate for a while, and he'll arrange for Minamoto no Himeko to temporarily take over your work—but I bet you won't agree. That old fox isn't up to any good; he clearly doesn't want you to leave, yet he's pretending to be nice, hoping to provoke you with Minamoto no Himeko. He's really going to take the plunge."

Kurosaki spoke like a worried old mother, quickly recounting the important events that had occurred during the two days that Heisei Ryu had been in a coma, and then pursed his lips at the end.

Ping Shenglong listened silently, occasionally nodding slightly as he processed the information: "So, the latest clues point to the potential location of the next round of rituals possibly being concentrated in the park area?"

“That’s one way to put it.” Kurosaki got up and walked to the window, looking at the still heavily guarded scene outside, the traffic still congested. “The area is actually quite large; there are probably dozens of Victorian-era parks and large green spaces. I’ll go investigate a few key targets later to see if I can find any clues. But if it follows the same pattern as the medical school incident, then the Ripper’s deployment… hmm?!”

His words stopped abruptly.

Outside the window, a dazzling white ball of light shot out without warning from the giant brain below that had just been bombarded.

Unlike any known flare or signal flare, it was extremely bright, pure and intense, like a shooting star flying in reverse, trailing a blinding tail of light, piercing the sky that had just begun to fall, and rushing towards the upper heavens.

"What the hell?" Kurosaki was startled, instinctively thinking that the authorities had come up with some new trick again. "The searchlights aren't bright enough? Or have they discovered something new?"

He took out his communicator and contacted his colleagues in the investigation team to ask questions.

However, Ping Shenglong, lying on the hospital bed, narrowed his eyes, a look of doubt appearing on his pale face.

This light is too bright, far exceeding the intensity of a regular flare. Could this be...?
"What?! You're saying this wasn't done by our people?!" Kurosaki's face instantly tightened as he held the communicator. "You mean this thing's brain just popped out of its own head?!"

What is it trying to do?!

Under the astonished and uncertain gazes of the two, the enormous ball of light gradually slowed its ascent, finally stopping abruptly at its peak.
Then,

boom! ! !
It exploded brilliantly in the night sky!
Before the loud bang even arrived, what first caught everyone's attention was the incredibly dazzling and grand fireworks display.

Countless points of light burst forth, instantly covering a vast expanse of the sky. Unlike the fleeting sparks of ordinary fireworks, they transformed into countless incredibly long and thin ribbons of light, resembling luminous willow branches or drooping vines, radiating an orange-red glow, slowly and gracefully drifting down from the horizon.

The sky was filled with these slowly drooping willow branches of light, illuminating the entire London night sky in a dreamlike way, or like some mysterious and enormous creature extending countless glowing tentacles, gently enveloping the city.

"I go!"

Kurosaki snapped out of his brief shock; he had no time to appreciate the beautiful scenery!
A strong sense of crisis caused his adrenaline to surge. He roughly slammed the window shut, then rushed to Ping Shenglong's bedside, pulled out his IV, dragged him off the bed, and then used all his strength to overturn the entire hospital bed!
"I don't need to say anything, do I?!" He yelled at Ping Shenglong, covering his ears and opening his mouth. The two of them huddled together behind the narrow shelter formed by the overturned hospital bed.

Almost the instant after they completed their dodge maneuver,

Boom! ! !
A terrifying shockwave showed them what an air tsunami was, crashing down as if it were a tangible entity.

The reinforced glass window of the ward shattered with a crash, countless shards shooting inward, and the entire room and even the entire building trembled violently in the terrifying sound and vibration! It was as if a high-intensity earthquake had occurred! Dust fell from the ceiling, and the lights flickered wildly before suddenly going out.

Even with his ears tightly covered, Kurosaki still felt as if his eardrums had been struck by a heavy hammer, buzzing loudly, and his internal organs felt as if they had been displaced. He was breathing heavily, and his chest was burning with pain.

A few seconds later, the earth-shattering roar and tremors slowly subsided.

The room was a mess, filled with smoke and dust mixed with the acrid smell of gunpowder.

Kurosaki shook his buzzing head, struggled to remove his hands from his ears, and looked at Heisei Ryu beside him.

Heisei Ryu's face was deathly pale, probably more from his previous injuries, but he still forced himself to stand up from behind the overturned hospital bed with Kurosaki's help.

Then, they looked out at the world through the window frame that had no glass.

The willow branches, which had been slowly drooping, dazzling and dreamlike, instantly transformed upon touching the ground, buildings, and trees.

A dazzling flame ignited.

That wasn't an explosion; it instantly ignited everything it touched.

It was like a meteor shower, or a waterfall of liquid flames falling from the sky.

The Thames reflected the towering flames, and riots were everywhere. Buildings, trees, and cars, whether old or modern, were rapidly being engulfed and spread by the unusual flames.

London, she was set ablaze.

The Temple Church.

The arrival of the riots plunged the place into chaos as well, especially after a section of the church's nave was smashed open and the fire spread. They had no time to salvage any scriptures or relics and fled in all directions.

Ethan, hiding in the corner, didn't know if this was a good thing or not.

"Arthur."

He called out, and Arthur, who had been hiding in the shadows, stepped out, oblivious to the flames.

He walked to the vicinity of the altar and, following Ethan's instructions, activated the crystal.

A phantom appeared; indeed, this was also a crucial juncture.

Arthur reached out his hand, and the scene shifted.

The light streaming through the domed windows fell on the black and white stone slabs.

A man dressed in a dark robe stood before the altar, clutching a parchment scroll that had just been delivered by a messenger.

Arthur was standing right next to him, so close that he could even see the distribution of the man's beard.

Including the unopened parchment letter in his hand.

The front features an eight-pointed cross, along with the letters AT.

The lead seal was covered in dust. The man slowly untied the knot, and the parchment letter unfolded. It contained only a few simple lines in Latin, which Arthur could barely understand:
[Arno de Torroch, by the grace of God, Master of the Knights Templar, in Acre, to Richard de Hastings, Grand Master of England, in Christ peace.]

Know that Jerusalem and the Holy Sepulchre have fallen into Saladin's hands. Gather your men immediately, and bring the treasury and keys to Acre. [October 5, 1187, Acre, written by the Master.]

After reading it softly, the man's fingertips dug slightly into the sheepskin. After a long while, he took a deep breath, turned around, and instructed his attendant: "Please summon the deputy commander, Matthew, to the Round Hall immediately."

"Yes!" The attendant nodded, turned and hurriedly left the church.

Richard, the Grand Master of the Knights Templar of England, carefully folded the letter, his face etched with worry, his gaze frequently falling upon the altar.

Arthur cannot move; he should gather information as much as possible using his eyes.

A moment later, rapid footsteps sounded at the door, which creaked shut as a fully armed knight in his early thirties stepped in: "Commander, did you summon me?"

Richard did not answer, but simply handed him the parchment letter he had just folded.

Matthew sped past, his face instantly turning deathly pale: "The Holy City...has really fallen?"

“The Crusaders suffered a crushing defeat at the Battle of Hardin. In fact, the outcome was already predictable. Holding out for three months was the limit,” Richard’s voice was low and hoarse, trying to remain calm. “The Grand Master ordered me to lead my men with the treasury and documents to cross south as quickly as possible.”

He paused, then took out an exquisite metal box from behind the altar base, its surface covered with cross patterns: "I must leave this in Britain. But I have to rush to Acre now, so I hope you can keep it for me."

Matthew instinctively reached out, but hesitated just before touching it: "This is..."

“Don’t ask, and don’t open it.” Richard pressed the box into his palm, the psychological weight making the knight’s knuckles tremble. “It must remain on British soil, or at least, within your body’s warmth. If circumstances force you to take it far away, never let it fall into the hands of someone with wavering faith.”

Matthew raised his eyes, his gaze gradually becoming serious: "I swear by the honor of a knight."

Richard shook his head: "I swear on my life and my faith."

Matthew immediately knelt on one knee, placed his right hand on the box, and said firmly, "I, Matthew de Grave, swear by my faith and soul: this box will never leave my side, never be shown to anyone, and never be opened. Until—"

“Until it finds its proper place in the right history,” Richard finished for him, a hint of relief playing on his lips. “Hopefully, people will still have faith then.”

With the oath fulfilled, Richard helped Matthew up, brushed the dust off his shoulder armor, and said in a calm voice, "Go and gather all the deacons to prepare for the southward journey. Also, double-check the treasury ledgers and make sure no one finds any flaws."

Matthew accepted the order and left, carefully carrying the box.

Richard watched him leave, then walked to the side of the altar and slowly unfastened the old dagger from his waist. The blade was dark, but rose-colored patterns were faintly visible in the light.

"On this journey, I am destined to be unable to be merciful and cannot take you with me. I will find you a good place where there are many kind-hearted people. I hope you can choose an even purer one."

After he finished speaking, the screen gradually dimmed.

In reality, Arthur absentmindedly lowered his hand and looked at Ethan beside him.

"Let's not talk about that for now. It seems like something's coming to welcome us." Ethan's gaze, however, was fixed on the burning gap in the church.

As he finished speaking, two men rushed in through the burning gap. They could be vaguely identified as wearing priest robes, but the reason they were only vaguely identified was because they were engulfed in flames.

The flames did not seem to damage their clothes; even through the firelight, their hands appeared to be made of normal skin.

The only abnormal thing was his face; it looked like a melted candle, hanging down and twisting.

"Hahaha! Come and dance with the sparks! Only fire is the fairest judge in the world!"

Bang bang bang!
His response was Arthur's lightning six-shot burst.

However, this thing seemed unaffected by small-caliber bullets that couldn't shatter flesh. Its body only paused briefly, splattering a little blood, before it charged at the two of them with a maniacal laugh.

Ethan tried using the corpse explosion, but it didn't work. It seems these people can't be identified as corpses.

He drew a samurai sword, imbued it with blood energy, and with a few swift red flashes, the two fire figures shattered into pieces.

Looks like that's all. Hmm?
Ethan discovered that the burning bodies that had fallen to the ground had actually climbed onto each other and merged together.

They formed an even larger fireman.

"A fire cannot be extinguished until it has burned out completely!"

His pieced-together face was even uglier, the kind of lawless person who could scare many people into calling the police just by walking around the street a couple of times.

"I don't want to fight you here."

Ethan shook his head, gave Arthur a look, and headed off in another direction.

In reality, the fire did not reach the extent of engulfing the entire city of London. Instead, the sparks radiated outward from the original British Museum for less than two kilometers, barely reaching 10 Downing Street.

But in terms of location, it can be said to encompass the best of half of London.

"Fire! Don't get wet from the flames! Use the high-pressure water gun immediately!"

"Hahaha! Burn it! Burn it all! The entire imperial city will be reduced to ashes!"

"Glory, power, desire—let this fire consume them all!"

On the streets of Whitehall, people set ablaze spread the flames wantonly, just like those whose organs had been possessed before, and they were driven into madness. They were also fearless of bullets, and even when they were shattered, they could reassemble themselves, making them a formidable force that sent chills down the spines of the troops stationed nearby.

I can't stop it!

It wasn't until the fire brigade arrived and unleashed a barrage of high-pressure water cannons that the fire was suppressed. Although it couldn't completely extinguish the blaze, it did manage to subdue them, causing them to dodge and show fear. This was the only way they managed to hold their line of defense.

The problem is, we can't just keep watering like this forever, can we?!

Because of the recent battle, many players who used the paper dolls to summon others have exhausted the paper dolls' energy, and some haven't even been able to refresh the crystal teleportation, so they are unable to provide support for the time being.

Fortunately, Iwasaki has been here for a long time, and these firemen are like toys in his hands. He can grab them in large quantities with his invisible hand, and they can't resist.

Then we'll put them into the Thames and slowly immerse them, letting them experience the E. coli of Mother River.

However, this was only a drop in the ocean; the fire was still spreading rapidly, and the chaos was difficult to quell.

Having just extinguished a fire, Iwasaki seemed to sense something and looked up.

A continuous stretch of dark clouds was rapidly gathering.

It wasn't the kind of dark cloud he used to cover himself; those things don't bring rain.

Instead, they were genuine, pitch-black rain clouds.

A heavy rain is about to fall.

(End of this chapter)