Chapter 108: Armory Warehouse

Akatsuki Yue had already pulled up the electronic map and data streams of Dishasha Pass.

“Dishasha Pass has massive population movement and complex underground structures; conventional scanning is limited. We need to conduct a thorough investigation.”

Jiang Xia looked at the excited team members and said gravely, “It seems everyone understands the threat these bastards pose.”

“Since they’ve come to us, our [Eagle] will use them as our first whetstone!”

He scanned the group and began issuing orders.

“Akatsuki Yue, immediately use your clearance to retrieve all archived data from the Night Watchers and Tianji Pavilion regarding the Cult of the Demonic God—especially their recent activity trails and personnel profiles.”

“Wang Shichen, assist her in analyzing weak points in Dishasha Pass’s spatial structure—they may be using these to establish hidden bases.”

“Understood.” Akatsuki Yue and Wang Shichen replied in unison, turning toward the tactical information platform.

“Lei Lie, inspect all heavy weaponry and prepare for a forced assault.”

“Ling Zhantian, familiarize yourself with the major power distributions in Dishasha Pass—avoid unnecessary conflicts during the operation.”

“Yes!” Lei Lie and Ling Zhantian also departed on orders.

“Lingxi, Wang Teng, the three of us will prepare—we depart in one hour to infiltrate Dishasha Pass first. Akatsuki Yue will provide remote information support.”

“No problem!” Wang Teng rolled up his sleeves, “I’ve been waiting to teach these bastards a lesson!”

One hour later, Jiang Xia, Ye Lingxi, and Wang Teng changed into practical civilian attire and arrived at Dishasha Pass via a dedicated high-speed corridor, its atmosphere starkly different from Tianmen Pass.

Dishasha Pass resembled a magnified, deeply martial city—towering modern buildings interwoven with ancient courtyards, pedestrians dressed in wildly varied attire, their aura fierce, with cultivators visibly carrying swords and blades everywhere.

The air reeked of spices, elixirs, and a faint trace of blood.

Following instructions sent via encrypted communication, the three arrived before a shop named Baixiao Hall.

This was a secret intelligence outpost of the Tianji Pavilion in Dishasha Pass.

The shopkeeper was a thin old man wearing reading glasses, wiping a porcelain vase, not lifting his head as he spoke.

“What are Itachi looking for? We just received a batch of ancient jade relics—excellent quality.”

Jiang Xia stepped forward and placed a jade token engraved with the Tianji Pavilion’s secret emblem on the counter: “Old man, we’re looking for something different—something related to… recent unrest.”

The old man’s wiping motion halted. He lifted his eyelids, his cloudy eyes scanning the jade token, then the three of them—lingering longest on Jiang Xia—and whispered, “Talk in the back courtyard.”

Passing through the shop filled with bizarre artifacts, they entered a quiet side room in the back courtyard.

The old man closed the door, his languid demeanor vanishing, replaced by sharp efficiency: “I am the local handler, codename Old Ghost.”

“The Pavilion has already informed me—Itachi’re here for those fanatics who worship the Demonic God?”

“Correct.” Jiang Xia nodded. “Any leads?”

Old Ghost pulled out a tablet computer and opened several blurry images and a surveillance video clip.

“They’re cunning and cautious, leaving few traces. But our people recently noticed connections between several disappearances and human trafficking cases and their involvement.”

“Also, near the abandoned Yongxin Industrial Park in the west city, unusual energy fluctuations and unidentified personnel activity occur at night—our drones are disrupted whenever they approach.”

The images showed details of the missing persons; the video revealed hooded figures in long robes swiftly moving through alleyways at midnight, their forms unnatural.

Wang Teng stared at the images, then suddenly pointed at the enlarged waist area of one missing person: “Old Xia, look at this token!”

It was a bloodstained token, faintly bearing a number—but obscured by poor lighting.

Jiang Xia’s gaze sharpened: “It’s them. Only mid-to-high-ranking members of the Cult of the Demonic God carry such tokens.”

“So they’re active here—and at a high level.”

Ye Lingxi studied the industrial park’s map: “The terrain is complex, with many factories—perfect for concealment. We need to get closer for reconnaissance.”

Old Ghost added: “The industrial park borders the Black Water Gang’s territory. Those bastards are local tyrants, profit-driven—possibly colluding with the Cult. Be careful during your operation.”

“Black Water Gang?” Wang Teng sneered. “Sounds like a bunch of scum.”

Jiang Xia noted the information and thanked Old Ghost: “Thanks for the intel. We’ll proceed cautiously.”

Leaving Baixiao Hall, the three decided to head to Yongxin Industrial Park under cover of night.

After nightfall, Dishasha Pass grew noisier—and far more dangerous. The three avoided main roads, moving swiftly through shadows.

The closer they got to the west city, the more dilapidated the surroundings became—streetlights dim, pedestrians scarce.

Leveraging their Wanghou realm cultivation and superior stealth techniques, they easily evaded several patrols of city guards and Black Water Gang thugs, slipping soundlessly to the perimeter of Yongxin Industrial Park.

Inside the compound, silence reigned; the air in the abandoned factories carried the stench of rust and gunpowder.

“Something’s off,” Ye Lingxi whispered. Her ice-based ability was especially sensitive to negative energy.

Jiang Xia’s Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan flickered crimson—he activated his Sharingan, and the world before him instantly transformed.

He could see, deep within the compound in one direction, the air thick with the scent of gunpowder.

“That direction—residual energy is strong. Be careful; there may be a detection array.”

The three moved like ghosts into the compound, following the energy trail deeper.

Soon, they halted before a large warehouse. The main door was sealed, yet a faint scent of blood seeped out.

“They’re inside,” Wang Teng whispered. “Looks like they’re performing some ritual?”

Jiang Xia signaled. The three circled to the warehouse’s side and found a ventilation shaft.

Jiang Xia used spiritual energy to adhere to the wall, carefully removing the ventilation grate, peering inside.

As soon as the metal grate was removed, a pungent odor of spiritual-energy oil flooded out.

Jiang Xia narrowed his Sharingan eyes—the interior instantly came into sharp focus. Hundreds of square meters of space were lined with rows of black metal crates, their open lids revealing glowing blue rifle barrels—the latest model of spiritual-energy rifles.

In the corner, stacks of rune-enhanced grenades; deeper on a platform, two half-human-tall spiritual-energy heavy cannons faced the warehouse door, their muzzles swirling with unstable energy.

“Holy shit, did they move an entire arms depot in here?” Wang Teng’s voice, transmitted through tactical earpieces, was barely audible.

Ye Lingxi condensed tiny ice particles on her fingertip and flicked them toward the surveillance camera on the inner wall of the vent.

“Twelve o’clock, three infrared cameras; six and nine o’clock, two guards each—cultivation at the late Wu Zong stage.”