Chapter 649

The Ghost Ship retreated faster than it appeared.

The thick fog on the sea surface seemed to be stirred by an invisible giant hand, surging from all directions toward that black cruise ship, wrapping its outline layer by layer.

Harding's last lightning bolt struck the fog, only stirring up a circle of short-lived ripples, without any feedback of hitting anything.

The Storm Eye circled a few times at low altitude, and after confirming that the target had completely escaped the perception range, it slowly closed and put him and Dirk back on the pier. The port was now unrecognizable.

There were traces of being dragged everywhere on the ground of Pier 3, and cargo containers were scattered in various places like toys.

Several cranes leaned crookedly against the nearby buildings, and the broken cables were still hanging at the broken steel frame, swinging gently in the wind. There were quite a few bloodstains on the ground, but not many corpses.

Those who were sucked onto the ship did not even leave corpses.

Harding stood at the edge of the pier, his chest heaving, and there were fine beads of sweat on his forehead.

The full-power output of the Storm Eye was not a small burden on his body, but it was still within the acceptable range.

Dirk squatted beside him, one hand pressed on the ground, and the silk threads of the Shadow Snake wandered rapidly among the broken stones, confirming that there were no residual anomalies or survivors around.

"This thing really ran away." Dirk stood up, patted the dust on his hands, "The energy fluctuation disappeared completely, and no life breath was detected."

Harding heard this and fell silent, only nodding after a moment, without saying much.

He took out the communicator and pressed the call button.

"Pier 3 of the port, the Ghost Ship has retreated. Casualties are pending statistics, requesting follow-up support to clean up the scene."

The communicator was silent for two seconds, and then a voice he was not very familiar with came.

That was not the voice that usually answered the phone, the other party was more steady, more low.

"Harding, return to the headquarters immediately. All elites, also return to the headquarters immediately, now."

Harding's fingers paused.

He looked at Dirk, and Dirk also heard the voice in the communicator, his brows frowning slightly.

The two immediately recognized the identity of the person answering the phone: it was the president of the Spirit Medium Association of this city!

"Everyone?" Harding asked.

"Everyone." The other side repeated, and then the communication was interrupted.

Fog City Spirit Medium Association building, the door of the conference room was open.

When Harding and Dirk walked in, more than a dozen people were already sitting inside.

They were all familiar faces.

All the elites who participated in the abandoned factory encirclement operation were present, and there were also some senior members who were usually responsible for other areas. Even those who were on business trips in other places appeared in the conference room at this moment.

The big screen in the conference room was lit, and it showed a person's file photo.

That was a middle-aged man, with a scholarly face, wearing silver-rimmed glasses, wearing a dark gray suit, smiling at the camera.

Harding had seen that face, and it could even be called familiar.

He had met him on the lecture podium, in the Association's internal communication briefings, and in group photos of some formal occasions.

Vido Lei En.

Dirk's footsteps stopped at the door.

His pupils contracted slightly, his lips moved, but no sound was made.

Harding's expression did not change, but his right hand fingers clenched unconsciously.

Everyone basically knew what kind of message would be announced in this situation on the scene.

To be honest, it was not that they had no guesses about this professor.

Since the abandoned factory incident, they had been investigating, always investigating.

But the distance between "guessing" and "confirming" was sometimes farther than the distance from Fog City to the other end of the continent.

At the very front of the conference room, the Association president stood there.

He was an old man with gray hair but a straight waist.

His face was thin, his eyes sharp, wearing a dark gray uniform, and the badge on his left chest was a circle larger than everyone else's.

Standing beside him were two people, a man and a woman, both about forty years old, wearing dark blue coats that were slightly different from the Association uniforms. There were no silver edges on the collars, but gold ones.

Spirit mediums of Disaster Level anomalies, it seemed they were sent directly by the headquarters.

The president's gaze swept over everyone present, confirming that all the elites had arrived, and then opened his mouth:

"The Prophet of the headquarters arrived three days ago."

The conference room was quiet for a moment.

Subsequently, a suppressed, forcibly suppressed commotion appeared.

Some people exchanged glances, some clenched their fists, some unconsciously touched the position where they sealed the anomaly.

The message they received was that the Prophet would arrive in two days, and all preparation work, all internal investigations, and all temporary scheduling were arranged according to that timetable.

As a result, the Prophet had already arrived three days ago.

This meant that the president's "two days later" was fake, and it also meant that this old man in front of them did not trust any of them at all. But no one complained.

Everyone present was a veteran, and they all understood why this was done.

The internal ghost was within the Association, and the level was not low.

If the real arrival time of the Prophet was leaked, all plans would be ruined.

Only by making everyone believe a fake time would the internal ghost arrange their actions according to that fake time.

"The Prophet has been analyzing for the past few days." The president continued, his tone flat as if making a work report, "Today, through the connection between the Ghost Ship anomaly and the black-robed organization, he has locked down their headquarters."

The screen in the conference room switched.

That was a blurry photo that looked like it was taken underwater.

On the photo was a huge underground space, the walls were covered with glowing runes, there was a circular array in the center, and various experimental equipment were scattered around the array.

This photo was not taken with a camera, but "seen" by the Prophet with his anomaly.

The ability of destiny-type anomalies could directly capture the target's physical location and spatial structure through the entanglement of causal lines, crossing the distance limit, ignoring physical occlusion.

"Different from the initial prediction, the other party's headquarters is not in the wilderness, nor in other cities." The president paused, "They are in a semi-independent sub-space. The entrance to this space is located under the Fog City Psychiatric Hospital."

The air in the conference room solidified.

Fog City Psychiatric Hospital.

That medical institution that treated a large number of patients with anomalous-related mental illnesses, that official institution that had a long-term cooperation agreement with the Association. The most troublesome thing was that there were quite a few family members of Association members and civilians inside!

If there was really a headquarters of the enemy in that area, it meant that all the patients in the psychiatric hospital had become hostages of the other party! No!

If it was just becoming hostages, it was still a "good thing." Involving cultists, it was likely that more troublesome things had happened there long ago! Harding's mind flashed with images, all of which were images of cultist headquarters he had once annihilated.

Those lunatics who had long lost their humanity, it was not surprising that they could do anything!

It could be said that every time they annihilated a cultist lair, quite a few field personnel had to participate in psychological counseling.

"The Prophet has confirmed that the core members of the black-robed organization, including their leader... that is, Vido Lei En, are all in that sub-space at this moment. They don't know that the Prophet has arrived, and they don't know that we have locked down their location."

The president's voice raised by half a degree, carrying a decisiveness that would only be revealed on the eve of a decisive battle: "Our next task is very simple: break in at the fastest speed, suppress with the strongest power, and leave no room!"

He looked at everyone present.

Although the elites present were surprised, they were not surprised by the president's decision.

The president looked at the two headquarters support personnel standing beside him. Both nodded at the same time.

"Good! Set off now!"

More than a dozen people surged out from the main entrance of the headquarters building, some running, some boarding the Association's special vehicles, some releasing the anomalies in their bodies, sweeping across the low altitude at a speed faster than vehicles.

Such a big move by the Spirit Medium Association naturally caused exclamations from surrounding personnel.

And these elites did not notice that the moment they left the headquarters building, an extremely subtle, almost imperceptible spiritual power tentacle slid gently over their shoulders.

Like an invisible flying insect, it attached to the collar of his uniform.

Harding, Dirk, the president, two headquarters support personnel, and several other elites... Jie Ming left a mark that was almost non-existent on each of them with his spiritual power.

It was not that he did not want to leave the Eye of Micro-Light, but since there was that Prophet, Jie Ming felt that he should still pay attention.

After these days of observation, he had basically confirmed that although this Prophet controlled a destiny-type anomaly, he did not know whether the power of the anomaly itself was too weak or his own level was too poor, and could only indirectly contact the destiny line through actual things.

Since this was the case, he should try his best not to leave any physical objects on these people.

And this was a pure spiritual power mark, without entity, and would only produce a reaction when Jie Ming's spiritual power actively activated it. At the entrance of the old bookstore, Jie Ming leaned on the door frame, hands in his pockets, looking at the direction of the headquarters building.

Light was jumping slightly in the depths of his pupils, which was him tracking the location and movement trajectory of each team in real time through those spiritual power marks.

"Finally going to close the net, I'll also join in and see if I can find the trace of that wizard." Jie Ming thought in his heart, turned and walked back to the bookstore.

Hanging up the stop business sign, the wooden door closed behind him, and the door axis made a long, sigh-like creak. His body faded the moment the door closed, using the Grand Void Step to merge into the surrounding environment.

His spiritual power followed those speeding vehicles and low-altitude sweeping figures, passed through the high-rise buildings in the central city area, and finally came to the gate of a gray-white building.

Fog City Psychiatric Hospital.

(Something happened tomorrow, ask for leave one day in advance.)