Chapter 580: Not Waiting Until Tomorrow

The last player to reach Lv40 was Carrie, acting chair of the Witch Alliance. She reached Lv40 simply by outlasting others; Michael reached Lv40 because the current version’s level cap is forty—long before, nearly two years ago, he already hit the ceiling.

Therefore, Michael is fully entitled to say, “Adaptation isn’t random fabrication; dramatization isn’t nonsense. No one understands Lv40’s power tier better than I do.”

Li Cheng hesitated, then asked: “Should we spare the Shape-Shifting Demon’s life? Extract its memories for intelligence on the other world.”

“Unnecessary.”

Michael shook her head. “This Shape-Shifting Demon is programmed to trigger self-destruction upon any memory probe. There’s no time.”

As expected, the Shape-Shifting Demon—now reduced to the size of a basketball—was rapidly dissolving and vanishing, even two rounds from the Ape Regression Gun couldn’t halt it.

This, to some extent, involves causality: the snail-like transcendent being from the other world sensed, before the Deathmatch Mission began, that it would be observed in the future.

Thus, even if it could have granted the Shape-Shifting Demon an emergency escape card to force-exit mid-mission, or erased its memories in advance, it couldn’t—doing so would create a causal paradox.

Hmm... if it were Li Cheng, knowing someone planned to probe the Shape-Shifting Demon’s memories, he’d deliberately annoy the opponent by stuffing bizarre content into its mind.

For example: 【Any player who sees this message automatically turns into a pig ^(* (oo) )^】

【Americans have low standards—they like dumping fries and burgers on the table to eat—IP: Canada】

【As a parent, I must say: domestic games are terrible. None are designed specifically for school-age children. Genshin Impact and Honor of Kings recommend age 12+, Black Myth: Wukong recommends 17+. In comparison, I recommend the puzzle coloring game “Hearts of Iron” for ages 3+, “Stellaris” for 7+, and “Crusader Kings” for 9+.】

Or, overlay critical memories with grotesque video footage. If human civilization wants to analyze the other world through memory analysis, every faction’s intelligence teams will have to watch those grotesque videos a hundred times.

As he pondered, Li Cheng stepped forward and killed the Shape-Shifting Demon with a Condensed Qi Implosion Fist.

【Deathmatch Mission “Net Ghost” completed】

The system notification chimed. Michael watched silently as Li Cheng lowered his fist and said: “If you don’t mind, could you sell us the Shape-Shifting Demon’s corpse? We’ll dissect it to analyze information from the other world.”

“No problem. Take it.”

Li Cheng waved his hand; the Shape-Shifting Demon’s remains were almost gone, and keeping them served no purpose other than as ammunition for his Bagua Magic Cannon—better to sell them to the GOC to support humanity’s survival.

“Also, something feels odd to me.”

Li Cheng noticed Michael wasn’t as cold and distant as some forum posts claimed—she could communicate normally—so he spoke up: “Back on the surface in San Francisco, the FBI’s Special Affairs Division was utterly unprofessional.”

During the surface battle, Li Cheng had nearly crippled the Shape-Shifting Demon when FBI agents suddenly stormed the scene—especially that player named Buddy, who had a Lianwang mechanical prosthesis from the Prometheus Guild implanted in his body. It allowed the Shape-Shifting Demon to partially possess his essence, restoring its condition and triggering the satellite malfunction.

Buddy was a mid-tier player, level twenty-something. The FBI is a massive faction with shares in the Slums’ original stock. They shouldn’t—and couldn’t—be this amateurish.

Unless... they did it on purpose.

“I understand.”

Michael paused. The Shape-Shifting Demon, as a conceptually engineered being, had maximum durability, self-healing, and assimilation capabilities—highly valuable for research alone. And behind it lay an unknown, hyper-advanced civilization capable of cross-dimension invasion.

The FBI likely deliberately sent personnel susceptible to possession, waiting for the Shape-Shifting Demon to take over.

If they could capture the Shape-Shifting Demon intact and study it themselves, that would be ideal.

If the plan failed, even capturing a fragment of its essence wouldn’t be a loss. They could publicly claim they tried to protect human civilization—just failed due to insufficient strength.

The risk of things going wrong is borne by all of humanity. After all, they know Michael has returned and intervened personally—they feel assured there’s a safety net.

Michael lightly tapped the edge of the satellite debris with her combat boot, shifting its center of mass to angle it toward Earth’s surface.

Then, holding her scabbard, she swung it casually toward the distant Earth.

Thousands of kilometers away, on the U.S. West Coast, in Livermore, California, the Sandia National Laboratories Livermore Branch.

This research facility is a U.S. national-level comprehensive institute under the Department of Energy, studying nuclear weapons, quantum technology, energy systems, and defense tech.

Alarms blared incessantly; red warning lights glowed in the corridors. Over a thousand researchers were ordered via loudspeaker to remain in their rooms. Only a few scientists could step into the halls, watching dozens of fully armed U.S. soldiers sprint through the facility, dragging a wheeled gurney bearing a lead-lined coffin.

The lead coffin shook violently. The lab director ran beside it, clutching a phone: “...Yes, Secretary of State, Buddy is brain-dead. His body is accelerating toward transformation into the Shape-Shifting Demon.

I recommend immediately forming a cross-departmental task force, prioritizing astrophysicists and quantum physicists to analyze the Shape-Shifting Demon’s bio-energy and cross-dimensional technology...”

Before he finished, the facility’s ceiling—constructed of steel-fiber-reinforced concrete and composite steel blast layers, theoretically capable of withstanding heavy bunker-buster bombs—was ripped apart by a terrifying force.

Building materials collapsed like sandcastles. Through narrow windows on their sealed doors, researchers saw their final sight: the lead coffin compressed into a steel plate, all U.S. soldiers, accompanying transcendent beings, and the lab director buried under thousands of tons of debris.

Dust rolled in thick clouds. From above, a deep, hundred-meter-long, five-meter-wide sword scar was carved into the Livermore lab.

Lv40 revenge never waits until tomorrow.

Michael turned her head, gazing at a distant【Realm Earth】satellite along the terminator line, then swung her scabbard again. Ash rain appeared out of nowhere, falling beside Li Cheng.

Satellites in low Earth orbit complete one revolution every ninety minutes. With the mission over, Ash Rain was kicked out of the network state and continued orbiting with the satellite. Michael sliced space and pulled her back from the terminator line ahead of schedule.

“Holy shit, Mi!”

Ash Rain stared wide-eyed at Michael, whispering to Li Cheng: “Do we have that much face? You actually got Michael as a guest star?”

“Can you ask her to take a signed photo with us? I want to put it on my desk for protection.”

“Can you be normal?”

Li Cheng felt his toes curling in embarrassment. Top-tier transcendent beings are nearly divine, and divinity’s hallmark is an innate awareness—able to sense distant prayers, chants, and relics tied to oneself.

Putting Michael’s photo on your desk? You’re asking her to watch Ash Rain dig his nose while struggling through a junior high exam.

Perhaps she’d already learned of Li Cheng and Ash Rain’s habits from the Side of Truth—or perhaps she simply didn’t care. Michael spoke calmly: “On behalf of GOC, I thank you both for your efforts and contributions in this mission. Is there anything GOC can do for you?”

“Uh...”

Li Cheng scratched his head. With Michael backing them, the Global Supernatural Alliance was practically the village chief of Earth. But Li Cheng had money and free time—he genuinely couldn’t think of anything he needed GOC’s help with.

Li Cheng couldn’t think of anything, but Ash Rain was eager. “Can you beat up someone whose name I won’t mention—Karyo Hayami? Because this guy defied heaven, and tons of cultural works have stopped coming to China.”

She raised her phone. On screen was a text message: 【Due to special circumstances, Japanese cultural activities in China are suspended. Your itinerary has been upgraded free of charge:

Saito Akari concert → KFC Crazy Thursday Roselia concert → Wallace Happy Friday Wu Ci You Ci concert → Pizza Hut Scream Wednesday Bandai Namco Carnival → Dustin is so cool new product tasting event. Wishing you good health and all the best.】

Michael fell silent. At GOC’s Hague headquarters, now restored to signal, elites from every country wore expressions of utter exasperation, silently fuming inside.

What the hell, you’re so relaxed? You’re a familiar, not some lazy bum who skips daily training to go to concerts every day? And why are they all fast-food brands? Don’t you fear turning into David Beckham?

Perhaps sensing GOC’s impending mockery, Ash Rain scrolled down further—there was even a “Demon Slayer” movie rebranded as “Snow King Birthday Season” at Mixue Bingcheng.

...And it came with drinks. You’re not even thirsty eating it? Fine, you win.

GOC’s command center staff rolled their eyes. Michael paused, her voice showing rare hesitation: “The Global Supernatural Alliance theoretically does not interfere in domestic affairs.”

The senior GOc officials in the command hall rolled their eyes, and Michael fell silent for a moment, his voice rare with a hint of hesitation, “The Global Supernatural Alliance theoretically does not interfere in other nations’ domestic affairs.”

Ash Rain readily agreed. After a moment’s thought, she said: “Can you make the Chinese national team win the World Cup? Or make the LPL all-Chinese squad win the championship?”

Michael paused briefly. “...Let’s just talk about beating Hayami.”

Michael paused briefly, “...let’s discuss what to do about Hayana.”