Support the pillar.

There are numerous techniques of similar kind, and just being a craftsman, Ji Jue could think of no fewer than a dozen. Among them, the simplest and undoubtedly the most heartless one was "staking a life." Kill about ten thousand people, and all problems would be gone.

The Evil Cult wasn't morally high, but with such a huge gap and such a complex ritual, they simply couldn't do it. 'Sacrifice' wasn't something you could manage with frozen chicken or duck, and it had to meet certain standards, butchered on the spot... How could you possibly get more than ten thousand live people silently out of the Federation's hands, and besides, why bother?

Even if they were all killed for the furnace, they could create six or seven Mutant Heavenly Artisans!

When brute force wasn't an option, they had to use some skill.

Through the ritual, they temporarily opened a gap above the Vortex, similar to ice fishing, enticing the starving higher-ranked Mutants underneath to come up for air.

The Evil Cult had been doing this for so many years, they certainly didn't lack 'connections' below. Cooperating for a long term might even mean a simple shake of a bell would show the feast had begun, so slick with practice.

In just a few hours in various places across Spring City, there were already sinister light columns flashing one after another, rising from the ground, signifying the successful arrival of the higher-ranked Mutants...

Like giant pillars, supporting from below and connecting with each other, they formed a stable structure, firmly lifting Spring City.

This was one of the few places that still remained quiet...

And there weren't any Transcend Rank powerhouses stationed inside.

If they could successfully purge and sever this pillar's existence, not only would there be a lack of resonance and connections among the higher-ranked Mutants, but the pressure on the Evil Cult to support the lifting of Spring City would be even more exaggerated!

Not to mention how much redundancy could be spared within such a massive project, and you must know, it's not just one load-bearing wall in a whole building, but even one less wall was enough to jeopardize the entire building!

First, break one of their legs, and the rest would be easy—just a fierce kick at the healthy leg would finish things off.

Intermittently, sounds filled with heavy static noise began to arise from the earpiece.

"Big Brother, ready."

"Garlic Peeling Sister, ready."

"Tie Nan, ready."

"Melon-Eating Fanatic, ready."

Then came Lou Feng's voice, struggling with embarrassment: "Big...Faucet, ready."

Following that, in the long silence, everyone held their breath and focused, until finally, an extremely reluctant voice dragged on:

"...Tong Zhiwu, ready."

Pfft.

Someone, having forgotten to turn off their mic, couldn't hold back a soft laugh.

Who could blame them when nicknames were mutually chosen? Only the individuals themselves had no say.

It was like a little game to relax the body and mind before the great battle, no matter how serious and rigid Tong Zhiwu was, it couldn't stop everyone from seeking a bit of fun amidst hardship.

Although he resisted the nickname a hundred thousand times, with the unanimous approval of his teammates, he had no choice but to accept.

"There's a vehicle coming, everyone be alert," Xu Guan whispered into the channel as "Melon-Eating Man." "Is the mechanic ready?"

"Ready."

Ji Jue grinned, pulled the bolt of his rifle, and lay down on the soft Mercury dust mat. He then turned the muzzle and faintly aimed towards the dilapidated truck coming up the street.

He frowned involuntarily.

What garbage... were there really no one in the grand Evil Cult who knew how to repair cars?

From the tires, to the suspension, to the chassis, not one part was decent. It was probably scrounged up from the trash piles around Spring City, cobbled together; a success if it could move, and no surprise if it broke down the next moment.

After the truck stopped, a large group of scruffy-looking people disembarked from the rear compartment. Each of them were pale and thin, and some, under Mutated Pollution, were even mutated and dying.

Hungry and poorly clothed, they looked like miserable prisoners, yet their expressions were inconceivably fanatical and joyful, scrambling towards the bank.

Watching them, Ji Jue sighed silently.

"Don't be soft-hearted, these are all fanatics of the Evil Cult, beyond redemption," Tong Shan's voice came through the communicator: "Even if you rescue them from fire and water, they'll still blame you for meddling and obstructing their way to paradise."

"I know."

Without a second thought, Ji Jue pressed the remote.

Suddenly, within the ruins at a distance, an explosion sounded, followed by a collapse, cutting the building in half and kicking up a huge cloud of dust.

Amidst the deafening sound, the crowd in the street was suddenly thrown into chaos, and cries of alarm rose.

This sudden disturbance attracted countless attentions, even the flowing light above was disrupted for a moment, overseeing the scene.

Sweeping past.

But soon, all attention dissipated without a trace.

It was just a derelict building collapsing, all too common in Spring City. There were countless such buildings, and Ji Jue had calculated for several hours, using minimal explosives. Any slight traces were buried by wind and dust, leaving no trace to be found.

And simultaneously, under the cover of the noise from the building collapse, no one noticed the suppressed gunfire that came from Ji Jue's hands.

The temporary Mercury silencer and deliberately reduced charge made the gunshot almost inaudible.

Like a silent fart.

Instantly leaving the barrel, rapidly peeling away and collapsing layer by layer in the wind, leaving behind a trace of spreading dust; at last, at the moment of impact, amidst the slightly chaotic crowd, a skinny man merely staggered and fell.

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