"Name?"

"Huai Shi."

"Gender?"

"COUGH, male."

Restlessly twisting in his chair in the office, Huai Shi raised his hand and asked, "Wait a second, are we starting a new chapter here?"

"Hm?" The registrar behind the desk looked up, puzzled, not understanding what he was talking about.

"No, it's nothing."

After checking the Book of Fate and finding that it had not suddenly split into a new volume, Huai Shi sighed in relief. As long as a new chapter wasn't starting, he still had control over the plot. He had had enough of sudden and expansive plot twists.

Behind the desk, a young man with glasses scrutinized Huai Shi for a moment. He then gestured towards Huai Shi's helmet, "I think it would be better if you took that off."

"Ah, never mind..."

Not knowing how to explain, Huai Shi just hemmed and hawed before saying, "I'm shy."

"..."

The registrar's expression twitched for a moment. "Fine then."

"By the way, what happened to that Miss from earlier?" Huai Shi asked curiously.

"Don't know. She came back crying and then ran off again. Did something happen?" The young man scratched his head. "I'm just filling in here, so please forgive me if there's anything wrong."

"It's all good, it's all good. We're all new to this," Huai Shi waved his hand dismissively, sprawled in his chair, and let out a sigh of relief listening to the noise outside.

Fortunately, he had run fast; nobody knew where he was.

"What's going on outside?" the young man asked, furrowing his brows.

"No idea. Maybe they're fighting?" Huai Shi innocently whistled, sure that no one could see his guilty expression behind the visor. "The Jinling Branch is really chaotic."

"Yeah..." the registrar sighed for a moment. "Where were we just now?"

"Taking off the helmet."

"No, before that."

"Gender."

"Oh, oh, right, gender, male..." The registrar quickly jotted it down and then looked up to ask, "For the sake of unified management and for consideration when assigning tasks, could you demonstrate your Soul Ability and Rank?"

Seeming to sense Huai Shi's hesitance, he quickly added, "Please rest assured, this will be recorded in the confidential files, strictly confidential."

Confidential my ass. The harsh lesson from Old Liu was still ringing in his ears. If he didn't want to be assigned to some secret department and overworked to death, he better not make his abilities seem too useful or unique.

So, Huai Shi lifted his head and said earnestly, "Second Stage Gold Sublimator. My Stigma is a small Genealogy called Mountain Ghost, and my Ability is grass cultivation. As for my Soul... it's to produce a knife, look."

As he said this, Huai Shi stretched out his hand, and a Sacrificial Knife appeared in it. With a jab forward, he stabbed it into the potted plant on the desk, and instantly, a cactus sprouted...

"Uh... okay."

The registrar scribbled quickly, finishing the record in no time. When he looked up, he saw Huai Shi still poking at his potted plant, incessantly growing cacti as if worried the registrar wouldn't believe him. The corner of the registrar's eyes twitched. "That's enough, please stop poking it."

"Oh, oh, sure thing." Huai Shi retracted his hand.

The phone suddenly rang.

"Excuse me, I have to take this call," the registrar said with an apologetic smile.

While he was on the phone, Huai Shi took in the small but intricately decorated office, charmingly arranged as if it belonged to a girl. There were even potted plants on the desk, a touch of life's pleasures.

"Alright, I've got everything set up here, and the work will be finished soon," the registrar looked at the time again. "How about this, when I'm free, let's meet at 8:10 PM."

The call ended.

"By the way, how may I address you?" Huai Shi asked.

"Feng Ping."

The young registrar smiled as he adjusted his glasses. "The Feng from 'wind,' and the Ping from 'appraisal'... Ah, no need to introduce yourself; I already know your name is Huai Shi."

"OK, I've officially entered your information into the system," he stood up and extended his hand to Huai Shi. "Shortly, you'll be able to check your profile on your phone. The security department will soon activate your privileges, your account on the Metatron Cube, and your internal merit points. I wish you success in your future activities."

"Thank you."

Huai Shi shook his hand politely.

And just like that, the registration was over.

He felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest.

By the time Ai Qing found Huai Shi, two hours had passed since the meeting ended. It was 8 PM.

Wandering around as if lost, Huai Shi had ended up in the kitchen.

"Where on Earth did you run off to?" Ai Qing frowned and asked, "Didn't we agree I'd wait for you in the lounge?"

"Well..." the man in the mask spoke in an odd tone, "It's a long story."

"Never mind, it's good you weren't in the lounge," Ai Qing said, shaking her head unhappily. "The quality of these surrounding operatives is so poor they even start brawls inside the branch. Every single one of them is hung up on the wall now... Do you know what that was all about?"

"..." The man in the mask fell silent.

Ai Qing's brows knitted; she sensed something was off. But then she heard her phone vibrating violently. It was an urgent mobilization order: All personnel to gather for immediate deployment and perimeter defense—Green Day's traces had been found.

「The location was in a huge hotel next to Xuanwu Lake.」

Ten minutes ago, they had confirmed the movements of Green Day members. Ten minutes later, the operation was ready, with everyone in position.

Under the cover of shadow, a special operations squad from Sea Trench Prison, the 'Yuan An' Sublimators, confidently strode into the hotel carrying huge suitcases, leaving nothing but a faint shadow gliding across the floor.

"One is in position."

"Whiteboard in position. What kind of dumbass codename is this?"

"Two Biscuits in place. Sparrow said it's called 'When in Rome.' Dongxia's customs are so profound."

"Big Four Happiness in position. Why do I have to be called Big Four Happiness?"

"Clean Slate in position. Surveillance is shared. I want to eat xiaolongbao."

"We'll eat later. Can you guys stop talking about food while we work?" An exasperated voice came through the channel, "Sparrow in position."

"Everyone's here. Where's the target?"

"Seven in total, all in the suites on the ninth floor. The structure is as shown in the diagram. We've detected alarms in the hallway but no sight of the fugitives... And it looks like they're packing up to leave."

"No time to waste, let's move. One and Whiteboard will provide Firepower support. Big Four Happiness and Clean Slate will handle the Border blockade. Everyone else... everyone else can freestyle."

Sparrow dropped his bulging travel bag, rummaged through it, and threw long guns and short cannons to his companions, "Nine Lotus Lamp and I will breach. Are we supposed to capture them alive or wipe them all out?"

"No orders."

"Then let's go hard on half of them and leave the rest to luck."

Sparrow donned his bulletproof Vest and racked the pump of his shotgun, "Working as corporate slaves sure isn't easy. You're comfortably on holiday, singing songs and eating cheese hotpot, but when they say come to work, you just have to, without a moment's notice... Hey, do you guys get any days off?"

"We often work overtime."

"What's time off?"

"What's cheese hotpot?"

"No, what's a holiday?"

The responses from his teammates made the expression behind Sparrow's mask more resigned, "Forget it, never mind… In the Astronomical Society, we're corporate cattle when alive and corporate devils when dead. After offering our youth, we offer our offspring. It's not easy."

"Signal cut-off ready. Countdown: five, four…"

Sparrow stood still in the room, took a deep breath, and looked at Nine Lotus Lamp beside him. This Nine Treasure Lotus Lamp, as burly as a giant, had put on his Helmet, picked up the heavy shield and high-frequency Axe adorned with Armor plates, and then cracked his neck.

A loud cracking sound echoed.

In the empty room, lights flickered, going off and on in the countdown.

Lighting up the hollows of the mask, Sparrow's eyes gradually turned colder.

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

Suddenly, silence settled.

Everyone abruptly heard a piercing sound. Then the entire building shook. The vast ninth floor was instantly covered in shadows.

The depth index rapidly climbed.

Through external operations, a small crack was carefully made in the Great Secret: Chalatustra. Instantly, the physical rules here were engulfed in darkness as the depth index rapidly rose.

In that final moment, Sparrow let out a hoarse chuckle in the darkness.

"Let's Party!"

BOOM!

The solid floor beneath them disintegrated in an instant.

Countless broken bricks and concrete structures swiftly split apart, turning into thick dust that rained down around the two figures as they descended.

From the midst of the swirling dust, Sparrow caught glimpses of astonished faces.

Then the roar of gunfire broke out.

Alchemy gunpowder burst into scorching toxic flames, propelling countless small iron balls to shoot out, tracing radiant silver light in the darkness.

In the face of the dense, rain-like array of silver light, all flesh was torn and pierced, mangled like tomatoes in a blender, with Plasma splattering.

And Sparrow had already landed, revealing a smile through his mask to those stunned faces, raised the barrel of his gun, and pulled the trigger once more.

Deeper darkness descended.

Amidst raspy screams and roars, continuous dull thuds and the roar of gunfire rang out. Horrifying sounds of cleavers and axes chopping through flesh mingled with the continuous bursts of silver light from the shotgun.

However, it didn't take long for the gunfire and loud noises to fade away.

In less than five seconds, the darkness began to thin out.

Taking its place was a shocking scene of crimson. The entire chaotic room was transformed into the stuff of nightmares—a Hell on earth.

And there stood Sparrow in the midst of Hell, atop a pool of blood, with the smoking barrel of his gun pressed against the forehead of the last survivor.

It sizzled.

"Don't try any funny business, and don't fucking run. It'll save you trouble and me the hassle, got it?"

Sparrow crouched down, looked at the man's face. It seemed like he might say, "Surrender and live," but he quickly sighed in resignation, "Forget it, look into my eyes—"

And just like that, it was handled.

As the lighter clicked crisply, the cigarette hanging from under Sparrow's lifted mask was lit. The flickering flame illuminated his disgusting yet somehow handsome face, along with an inscrutable, profound sadness.

"According to the original holiday plan, by now I should be in Rome getting hair treatment... and yet, here I am back to cleaning up the trash."

Thinking of this, Liu DongLi's eyes reddened with anger,

"—Look at the fucking mess you've made!"

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