He spared no expense, not even hesitating to ignite his own soul, pushing beyond his limits.

At that moment, behind Tong Shan, the Burning Star Phase reappeared!

Impact—

There was no sound to be heard; even the loud boom was completely extinguished by the outburst of telekinetic force, with only aftershocks sweeping in all directions. The remaining thin streaks of electricity were mere leaks, shredding through two layers of flooring. Where it passed, everything burned and crumbled, while the murky liquid left by molten rocks and debris rained down like a pour.

When the fiery light dissolved, amid the pungent stench, the entire mall was a mess, with countless pieces of rubble flying about.

And there, suspended in midair, Tong Shan's hand now held a withered, skeletal man, blood slowly trickling from his mouth and nose, on the brink of death.

But even more devastating was Tong Shan's right arm.

It looked like charred wood.

Fingers shattered, only two remaining, clenched tightly around his neck, pervasive telekinesis infiltrating, controlling life and soul.

With a swing of his arm, he brutally smashed the man to the ground.

Out of Tong Shan's hoarse groans, his figure slowly descended from the sky, stepping on the man's ribs with ruthless trampling, "Hand over the path, and I'll spare your life."

"Ptui—"

The man grinned and, without a second thought, spat a mouthful of blood-streaked phlegm at Tong Shan, which was quickly deflected. Then, thousands of telekinetic threads, sharp as knives, simultaneously targeted the nerves throughout his body, wantonly inflicting agony and causing the resister to scream, writhe, and roll his eyes back.

Those few seconds were as long as eternity.

But when the torment ceased, forcibly bringing him back to consciousness, his tear-stained and disheveled face twitched with a mocking smile.

He let out a breath as thin as a reed, uttering a curse word.

Then relentless screams and wails continued; he convulsed and rolled on the ground in vain, scratching at his flesh. Even deep enough to see bone, it could not nullify the pain Tong Shan inflicted.

Such brutal imagery almost made one question whether the roles of the two had been exchanged.

Even Ji Jue, who had just entered, couldn't help but lower his footsteps, silently sucking in a cold breath, not daring to speak.

Compared to Yan Chong, that traitor who would sell out his team faster than he would his own ass, this guy's bones were truly hard!

No matter the torture, he kept his teeth tightly clamped.

"Hand over the path, I'll spare your life," Tong Shan repeated emotionlessly, unswervingly.

"...Heh, heh heh heh... Don't know, clueless, don't understand, what is that?" the Mutated Transformation gasped and coughed, "I would never... betray the sacrifice... Ahhhh!!!!"

The screams were unending.

In just a few minutes, the Mutated Transformation was thoroughly disfigured, yet even as his sanity completely shattered, he refused to speak, only mumbling incoherently over and over again.

In the end, silence fell amid the oppressive quiet of everyone present.

Tong Shan lifted his hand, subconsciously wanting to check the time, but saw only a lump of iron, burnt to trash by a thunderbolt, utterly unusable.

"Two and a half minutes," said Xu Guan. "Thirty seconds left."

"Search."

Tong Shan, expressionless, commanded, "Keep looking, take all the related records and archives with us. Ji Jue, go search the electronic devices."

"No problem."

Ji Jue nodded and headed towards the mall first.

Regrettably, Mechanical Descent wasn't omnipotent in times like these. Besides a few light bulbs and two or three cell phones, there were hardly any other functional devices in the mall.

The cell phones were all full of porn; no important messages or intelligence to be found. At most, there was something mildly valuable about someone who had fought with a Shepherd of the Dragon Sacrifice Ceremony...

Inside one of the rooms, Ji Xue found a communications device, heavily encrypted. Ji Jue did not dare make a call, just read the message log, and found the last order was sent when they fled from the ruins of their base, commanding everyone here to stay in the mall and increase vigilance.

Beyond that, nothing.

A wasted trip.

Ji Jue sighed, and as he looked up intending to speak, he noticed Lou Feng's expression.

It was as if he was in a daze.

He lowered his head, discerning the patterns beneath his feet, his gaze sweeping from the ground, stopping ultimately at a shop in the center of the first floor of the mall, miraculously unburied by collapsed debris.

Footprints from going in and out were still visible on the ground.

But the inside was empty.

"It seems, there's a problem..."

Lou Feng extended his hand, brushing the dust off the floor. The sensitive Shangong Matrix detected unusual processing marks—although it seemed like original debris from the ruin, seamlessly integrated, there was a sense of intentional age.

Deliberately made to appear like the rest of the place.

But at the seams, there were traces that couldn't be erased.

"There is definitely a problem."

Ji Jue reached down, feeling the ground, bending his knuckles to knock, and a clear hollow sound spread. Yet the response of the spiritual fluctuations through the flooring to the spreading knock was strangely delayed.

Material inconsistencies were like encountering another object in the water while using sonar detection.

To others, these scattered signals and feedback might be meaningless, but the Dissociation Technique required using the feedback from the spiritual fluctuations to read internal conditions and information of the object.

"A false floor?" Ji Jue asked.

"Not enough space, and a false floor can't fool the Ether," Lou Feng replied. "It's somewhat like the authentic illusion of a Mirror, overwriting reality... but not enough."

Anyone with common sense would know it wasn't, because if someone capable of overlaying illusions on reality were hiding here, they all would be served up ten thousand tricks.

Not minding dust and grime, Ji Jue lay down, his hands spreading spiritual fluctuations, permeating everything from the flooring, barely any useful feedback amid countless noises.

But there was a feeling, as though something was there, the response was faint yet with a vague sense of resilience, a stand-alone system of high integrity.

The feeling was as if...

Ji Jue and Lou Feng lifted their heads and looked at each other, instantly realizing:

"—A workshop?!"

"Gulp..."

At that moment, after the illusion disguise, a dry sound of swallowing water echoed.

So clear in the confined space.

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