Night Journey

Chapter 141 Chess Player
The heavy oak door shut out the noise of the outside world, but it couldn't block out the gunpowder smoke and the rusty tension that filled the air.

De Karl sat in his office like a silent statue, but this time, the large desk in front of him had been cleared out and replaced by a map that covered almost the entire surface.

The map meticulously depicts the entire city of Hull, filled with thumbtacks of different colors and dense silk threads, thus marking the locations of the Claws' strongholds and areas of activity.

"Report."

After a brief knock, a young operator opened the door.

He strode to his desk, his uniform collar open, his forehead covered in fine beads of sweat, and his breathing rapid.

Decal stared at the map without looking up, his fingertips lightly tapping a red dot located in the industrial area.

"The third team encountered strong resistance while clearing out the 'Anvil' stronghold. It has been confirmed that there are a large number of zombies and a small number of evil offspring in the target area."

The operator reported on the progress of each group's actions.

"Currently, one staff member is seriously injured and another has died in the line of duty. We request assistance from the City Guard Bureau."

Decal remained expressionless, as if the casualty figures the operator had mentioned were merely insignificant footnotes on a map.

After a moment's thought, he moved another nearby thumbtack over and gave the order.

"Hold the third group to hold out. Notify the nearest sixth group to reinforce us as soon as they finish their area operations."

The operator quickly jotted down De Karl's instructions and continued reporting.

"The strongholds of the 'Criminals' in the Shanghe Avenue area of ​​the commercial district have been completely wiped out."

Upon hearing this news, Dekar finally looked away from the map and onto the operator's tired face.

He paused for a moment, as if confirming the weight of the information, or as if simply looking at it. Then, Dekar stretched out his bony hand, removed a black thumbtack that represented a "high-risk stronghold," and casually tossed it into the empty metal tray.

"Very good. Inform them that after resting, they should immediately support the other action groups."

"Yes!"

The operator, feeling as if granted a pardon, quickly saluted and turned to leave.

Tonight, the City Guard Bureau's operation is on a massive scale. Under the direction of the City Council, all departments are fully cooperating with the staff to launch a deadly attack on the chaotic forces in various regions.

Dekar took off his glasses, rubbed his tired eyes, and saw several operation briefings scattered around the edge of the map, the edges of the papers crumpled unconsciously by his grip.

"It's time for the next one."

DeKarl's voice was flat, his gaze returning to the map, his finger sliding down to the next area marked with a blue line.

If nothing unexpected happens, the various action groups are carrying out Decal's will and launching a fierce attack on the Claw stronghold entrenched in this area. Unseen by him, countless people are bleeding.

Decal did not show any emotional reaction to this.

If I had to say something, it would simply be that I'm exhausted.

"call……"

De Karl let out a long sigh and glanced at the corner of the office.

Sometime during the day, a small table appeared here, and Hannah, the director's assistant, was typing away at a typewriter.

Seeing Dekar looking at her, Hannah paused in her typing and asked suspiciously.

"You...you want to write down this part of mine too?"

DeKarl paused for a moment, then affirmed, "Yes, write it down. Everything that happened here tonight, from the operator's report to our conversations and even my own changes in expression, you must record it all in detail."

"Okay... okay."

Hannah gave a bitter laugh, squeezed her numb fingers hard, and continued to tap vigorously.

As Decal's assistant, Hannah knew his personality, preferences, and his "meticulousness," which she almost considered an eccentricity.

De Karl's demands for "rigor" were almost obsessive; time records had to be accurate to the second, and conversation records had to include each other's tone and expression.

Normally, Hannah could handle it, but tonight's bloody operation had pushed her mind and fingers to their limits.

“The ‘Anvil’ stronghold has been eliminated…”

As Hannah recounted the events, she typed them down, adding a chilling touch to this grand purge.

A brief silence fell over the office as De Karl's gaze slowly moved across the map, like a chess player examining a chessboard.

Soon, another operator came to report the latest battle situation.

"Groups 9 and 17 are surrounded by the evil claws..."

"A massive explosion occurred in the industrial zone, suspected to be a counterattack by the Claws."

"A large number of zombies have fled to Huahe Avenue, and the 20th Group is trying to organize a defense."

Time passed amidst the sounds of gunfire, knocking, reports, and nail removal. The tray gradually filled with thumbtacks, like malignant tumors being removed.

Dekar's tightly furrowed brows gradually relaxed, and a hint of a smile even appeared on his cold face.

Then, another operator pushed open the door and entered.

"Director!"

The operator, panting heavily, reported crisply and efficiently.

"Daylin's team has been attacked by a Rank 3 Mech Soulman. This is beyond their capabilities. Requesting backup!"

All of the high-level transcendent beings in the Claw Clan were completely cleansed by the Soul Essence Light during the meeting that Dekar had plotted.

Now that only a few insignificant beings remain, Dekar felt confident enough to launch a purge.

But now, there's one fish that slipped through the net.

DeKarl looked up and sized up the operator. "I remember you... your name is Elton. Calm down."

Elton swallowed hard and nodded vigorously.

Other operators could read out casualty figures without emotion, but Elton couldn't. Cillian and Dalyn were not only his colleagues, but also his few friends.

Dekar's gaze fell on the Watergate system marker on the map, a distinctive, blood-red symbol. He frowned almost imperceptibly and waved his hand.

"Okay, I understand. Go back to work."

"But...but they need support."

Elton was at a loss; he had come seeking help, but the chief had not responded.

Although he was not a superhuman, he was well aware of the destructive power of a third-tier being, and he was extremely anxious at the moment.

Decal remained silent, his calm gaze like an abyss, almost swallowing Elton whole.

"It's part of the plan."

"okay, I get it."

Elton clenched his fists, but ultimately had no choice but to give in and leave.

Silence descended once more, and in that silence, Hannah's heart grew increasingly restless.

Having documented the entire operation, she naturally knew that there was no "plan" at all; it was just a pretext Decal used to appease Elton.

But... why did he do that?

Hannah was both curious and uneasy, and several times she almost spoke, but then she swallowed the words back.

She remembered that rumor from before.

Some say that Chief Rolf has a close personal relationship with a young man in the city guard.

Hannah remembered that person's name.

Cillian.

It seems that Dekar intends to take advantage of tonight's operation to get rid of Cirion. Perhaps this suddenly appearing Mech Soul is someone he deliberately overlooked during the decapitation operation.

“Dalin…Dalin…”

Suddenly, Dekar called out another person's name, looking slightly annoyed, and tapped his fingers nervously on the ground.

After some hesitation and deliberation, De Karl made up his mind and started counting down the time.

About five minutes later, De Karl rang the bell, and the staff member waiting outside pushed the door open and entered.

"Notify the teams near Watergate Fortress that Daelin's team is facing a Mech Soul user and urgently needs support."

Hannah recorded these things as always, but this time, her unease was even more intense.

Why didn't the bureau chief provide immediate assistance, but instead deliberately waited for so long?

Although she wasn't very familiar with Dalin's group, Hannah remembered that the highest rank they had was only Rank 2.

Perhaps they are already dead...

Oh, perhaps this is the effect the director wanted.

He tried to help, but he was too late.

……

The icy scimitar tore through the air with a piercing whistling sound as it slashed down fiercely toward Cirion's head.

Ciri's pupils contracted sharply, and the red-hot Boiling Sword suddenly swung upwards, the blades colliding at the last second!

Blinding sparks exploded outwards, illuminating the two men's contorted faces. They faced off, neither willing to back down, and remained locked in a stalemate.

The shrill sound of intense friction between metals drowned out the roar of the water. Cillian's arm muscles bulged, and the steel grille under his feet creaked and groaned under the immense force of his footing, deforming slightly.

Cirien unleashed his Boiling Sword, and the two separated after a brief clash.

He was jolted backward by the immense force, the red light on the Boiling Sword dimmed for a moment due to the impact, but Darren's steel body remained as steady as a rock, the hydraulic pressure in his joints making a "hissing" sound.

"Ha ha!"

Amidst the twisted, maniacal laughter, the crimson prosthetic eye beneath the hood locked onto its prey, and without hesitation, pounced again.

"Damn it, didn't the intelligence say he was only rank two?!"

Amidst Cillian's curses, Darren's elbow blade pierced towards his heart like lightning.

A streak of silver light pierced through, and Daelin burst into Darren's side, swinging a heavy punch that dented the armor on his shoulder.

"Damn it, how should I know!"

In this life-or-death situation, Daelin also abandoned his personal ethics and joined Cillian in cursing.

Immediately afterward, while throwing heavy punches to try and subdue Darren and buy Cillian some breathing time, he began to speculate.

"Could it be that the information has passed its time limit?"

The city guard's records show that a similar incident had occurred: intelligence indicated that the enemy was only at rank two, but when the battle began, it was discovered that they had just been promoted to rank three a few days prior.

"How could something with such a low probability happen to us?!"

Cillian raised his jet revolver and unceremoniously emptied his Soul Essence Bullets.

"Who knows? Maybe we're just a bunch of unlucky bastards!"

Dalyne twisted and slid to the side, dodging Darren's fatal stab.

"Fuck! Fuck!"

Cillian kept cursing.

The boiling sword was thrust out, its scorching tip melting through the protective shell and severing the fragile pipeline.

Amidst the blue and white sparks of electricity, Darren quickly retreated, his damaged mechanical joints trembling slightly and emitting an ominous low groan.

(End of this chapter)