Chapter 1348: No. 252: Leaving the Gate, All Eyes Upon

No. 252: Leaving the Gate, All Eyes Upon

The arena, already flooded with too many gazes, is undoubtedly unmatched in brilliance; it can enjoy the achievement of destroying precious treasures, and is also the perfect stage to announce victory.

But...

Also, please don't forget the essence of Luzhas's Avengers League.

Compared to destroying human facilities and challenging the authority of human civilization, what they crave even more is revenge against everything related to the Light Country.

"So they really don't care about the Heaven Gate City side?"

Concealing themselves in their own obscure ways, waiting only for a command to apprehend the criminals in view, the special agents will, in the agonizing segment of waiting for orders, make use of their multitasking mental leeway.

Glancing at the arena that suddenly makes the background noise clamor, paying attention to other colleagues' positions, simultaneously confirming the surrounding terrain for smooth control implementation, and noting the movements of colleagues from other departments, then revealing a surprise similar to that of a certain demon.

Again being scolded by the leader over the communication equipment: "Don't get distracted! That's not something you should be thinking about!"

Being merciless in words, actually also to improve performance in the action records later; in today's security department where the entire action will be audiovisually recorded, speaking cautiously and acting prudently is necessary for success.

Doing no extra deeds, saying no extra words, asking no extra questions—only by achieving this can one improve the evaluation after each action; but it's quite obvious that these district-level special agents under Bixiketuxe·Shihuaiya don't seem very eager to progress.

Although not yet at the point of slacking off, they also disdain showing perfection before the invisible camera, and may even do things that easily lose points, such as glancing at the arena with the corner of their eyes.

The arena itself could also be attacked, and it's even possible that there's trouble within the athletes' team—such considerations are not only in Little Aomo's plan, but also in these professional teams' tactical predictions; thus this should be part of law enforcement work, yet some team members simply don't care about the image project.

Their performance in front of the camera is purely slacking off at work to watch the race, even genuinely discussing which horse girl has the advantage.

But when you think they're being passively lazy—even the slightest movement of that target at the edge of the field of view can make their fingers on the weapons tighten, their gaze shift slightly… yet they also don't focus on it, continuing to maintain the demeanor expected of plainclothes officers.

As Juanzhang, Bixiketuxe·Shihuaiya trusts her subordinates' professionalism and knows that such remarks and idle chatter don't hinder their actions; in fact, conducting plainclothes operations should include a few such unrelated remarks, but these principles don't reach the records department at all.

Nitpicking and fault-finding… Compared to the warm, friendly workplace when she first got promoted, with congratulations from all sides, now every step upward in the district-level process seems to summon hostility as dense as hidden needles in a thousand eyes.

One person attains the Dao while chickens and dogs haven't yet ascended—this is always the result; Bixiketuxe·Shihuaiya intentionally slows her pace to improve workplace relations, but that premise also requires her to be idle.

The reality is she's been as busy as Aomo these two months, with continuous events, continuous invitations, continuous preparation, making it so that even having a meal together with Aomo requires them to coordinate their schedules days in advance.

Invitations from old partners and old friends make her embarrassed to repeatedly decline, and afterwards she ends up irritably scratching her own head.

Being able to chat with Aomo about work topics is more like a stolen leisure in the midst of busyness; it's hard to escape from that overly tight, heavy workload, allowing her to breathe a few sighs.

She only hopes such time can be prolonged, only hopes the time spent together can be long, thus she welcomes his conversation and requests without refusal.

Never rejecting, never doubting, even more so delighting as if drinking sweet nectar, Bixiketuxe·Shihuaiya's ever-blazing career drive also contracts most thoroughly in those moments, because it often gives her a sense that she is not merely having her life taken by her career, but also that she is making progress with Aomo, a positive feedback.

This weak yet important positive feedback is precisely the fuel for long-lasting resilience, letting the flame never die, perseverance endure, and also earns her the image in Aomo's eyes of a lady especially worthy of respect.

Unable to leave behind the friend who walks alone on the difficult path, and even more unwilling to see her perseverance thus far already bear a steadfast, radiant personality covered in dust.

In a sense, Bixiketuxe·Shihuaiya's perseverance now is also a beacon in Aomo's eyes.

It lets him see that someone is walking farther than himself on that arduous, fatigue‑laden pressure‑resisting path, gives him such a living reference nearby, and enables him to provide a clearer variable.

"Officials of the Boundary Gate District certainly won't consider the situation of Heaven Gate City under attack; you shouldn't expect them to allocate personnel here."

Although the match has just about to start and the athletes are finishing entering the gate, Juanzhang Shihuaiya already left her seat amid everyone's doubtful, curious… yet also restrained gazes, stepping step by step toward the rear staircase to go upward, also passing through the levels where many plainclothes subordinates are stationed.

Gazes unintentionally crossed, then returned to the command overview on the light screen before them, and further looked at the spectrogram that undulates with the speech of the call:

"Shouldn't the Department of Homeland Security contact the Heaven Gate City side for liaison at this point?" the calm voice on the other end asked.

"That will happen, but it won't change much of the current situation."

"Having a liaison report is enough; that way I can provide sufficient persuasive material to my friends at the Light Country office."

"Convenient for persuading others?"

"Convenient for persuading others," the other end replied, "everyone isn't in a state where they can just have things decided by a single word."

"Sounds like just as hard‑pressed a person."

"Different routes."

Having guessed what Shihuaiya was thinking, Aomo paused, then said: "His side is closer to a kindergarten principal."

"What?"

Philis Ultraman, the Light Country's sole designated archivist, now the administrative chief of its office, seems to have something like that, but……

"According to the Ultraman clan's age standard, there are many underage and newly adult special members there, their states switching among three: gilding achievements, accumulating teaching experience for credentials, and pure curiosity about alien worlds; thus my friend's need to prove materials is less about procedure and more about boosting prestige."

Aomo patiently explained, and glanced at Philis's reply.

"Although he only wants to handle crisis response well and activate martial law, my suggestion is still to temporarily avoid the sharp edge; there's really no need to bring a bunch of kids to gamble over each other's preparations."

"Did he agree?" Shihuaiya said while tapping and dragging on the screen, in the middle of planning the staff report, then urgently inserted a message: "Are your two Ultraman friends alright? The extraterrestrials staring at them have already exceeded fifty, and even some special agents are anxiously asking me if I can take action."

Having said that, she glanced at the somewhat distant western spectator seats.

The seat numbers Aomo prepared for those two Ultramans had already been disclosed via media in earlier interviews to everyone who cared; being surrounded now is nothing surprising.

"That group of extraterrestrials are still holding their composure, aren't they?"

Even Aomo's reply remains just as calm: "What do you think they're waiting for?"

"The simulated gunshot of the race start?" She glanced askance, seeing that compared to past outlines, the arena had grown a full circle wider, while the competing teams had not expanded similarly.

Everyone having taken their places and entered the gate, the entire audience held its breath; in the total silence, even the commentator's voice faded away.

"Correct."

Along with the falling of those words, the simulated gunshot together with the gate-opening sound were drowned out by the eighteen pairs of feet shooting out like electricity, and further drowned out by the tremendous sound wave on the spectator seats that could send feathers, hats, hair ornaments—everything—soaring into the clouds.

At that very instant, the western spectator seats still in her field of view burst forth with a momentary spatial crack.

Brief, and not obvious, not worthy of taking the audience's gaze, it also made Shihuaiya instinctively glance at the screen.

That battlefield, proclaimed as the start of operations, possesses another batch of equally fervent spectators.