Chapter 595

The levitation engine hummed silently, carrying Li Cheng down slowly and landing effortlessly on the water’s surface without a single ripple (actually, he feared the motion might jolt loose the bone ornaments on his body).

“We shall never forget your grace, Elder.”

Ada, reduced to nothing but a head, spoke through her throat’s broadcast speaker; to show respect, she projected a 3D image of herself from her eyeballs and bowed to the Bone Knight. “The Whale Song Guild will forever remember your kindness.”

“We too.”

Wu Quan and Alcie, barely regaining mobility, hurried to add: “The Special Affairs Bureau, Mechanized Thunder, Eagle of Saladin, Witch’s Alliance… will forever remember your kindness.”

¤￠o

The cube servitors high above could no longer sit still: “They’re stealing our lines?!” “This is shameful plagiarism!”

Li Cheng now felt PTSD at the word “kindness,” but to maintain his master’s demeanor, he kept his cold, upright stance, back turned to Wu Quan and the others, and said calmly: “Have you completed your mission?”

“Completed.”

Wu Quan nodded; the mission log confirmed it without doubt.

Li Cheng asked again: “The curse on your backs?”

With the collapse and dissolution of the Republican-era mansion, the red blotches on the players’ spines had receded drastically, losing their anomalous properties and ceasing to spawn malevolent spirits.

But the strands of red fungal filaments remained, rooted deep in the dermis—appearing to risk infiltration into the bloodstream.

Wu Quan exhaled in relief: “Just some hyperplastic hair. Not a big issue. The Special Affairs Bureau offers cosmetic surgery and deep medical services.”

“That’s true.”

Xiao Yuan, the customer service rep on the Myriad-Eye headset, added: “The Special Affairs Bureau once rescued a transcendent life from a script world, known as the Source Daoist.”

His later years were obscure—he grew red hair all over his body. After treatment, he regained his sanity, gradually took on human form, and now works part-time as a mascot plushie in a theme park, entertaining children every day.”

?

You Special Affairs Bureau really love kidnapping bosses from script worlds, don’t you?

I’m starting to suspect the forum rumors are true—that you have a collection fetish and want to gather every possible hair and eye color from script bosses.

As they spoke, Ada generated temporary limbs and limbs from green data to revive the comatose Radiation Addicts,

808bass, and others.

These individuals, having been plunged into despair before unconsciousness and certain of death, were stunned to find themselves alive—they lavished endless thanks upon the Tungsten Bone Knight, vowing to erect spirit tablets in their homes and so on.

Li Cheng maintained his cold, upright stance, saying nothing, watching as the Radiation Addicts, Alcie, and others gradually vanished back into the real world. He said calmly: “I’m leaving. You should evacuate quickly—this place is unsafe.”

“Master Tungsten Bone, please wait.”

Xiao Yuan suddenly spoke: “Could we speak for a moment?”

All players except Wu Quan had already withdrawn, and no one had set up hydroelectric generators or radio transmitters

to mark the current location.

Wu Quan, ever tactful, placed the Myriad-Eye headset on a floating log, then piloted his submarine backward a hundred meters, donned noise-canceling headphones, and pulled out a fishing rod to begin angling.

“What do you want to say?”

Li Cheng’s tone was calm, but he was alert—he had no idea what the Special Affairs Bureau had discussed with the Bone Knight.

“You previously warned us to pay attention to the God-Monster Tower. We’ve reconfirmed it,”

Xiao Yuan said in a tone devoid of personal emotion, speaking purely as the voice of the Special Affairs Bureau to the Tungsten Bone Knight: “The [Sand Sea Big Data Apparatus] has predicted that the probability of a God-Monster manifesting soon has indeed approached the expected threshold.”

Li Cheng’s heart stirred. The [Sand Sea Big Data Apparatus], like the Special Affairs Bureau’s obsession with collecting script bosses, was merely a rumor.

Legend claimed it was a supercomputer based on unknown principles, capable of automatically collecting, integrating, and analyzing all known information to output predictions for the coming months or years.

From matchmaking advice and gacha game odds to box office forecasts, up to stock market fluctuations, international geopolitics, and human scientific progress—it achieved a 60–80% accuracy rate.

Considering that the stock market includes the perpetually chaotic A-share market, this accuracy is already exceptional. It could easily crush Buffett in quantitative trading.

Coupled with rumors placing the [Sand Sea Big Data Apparatus] within the Fangxinghuilang , the machine likely consumes astronomical energy each time it activates. Otherwise, the Special Affairs Bureau’s logistics and R&D staff would surely use it in their free time to make absurd predictions—like whether archaeologists millennia from now might mistake a shut-in’s wallpaper as murals, action figures as burial goods, or life-sized pillows as human figurines.

As for the God-Monster Tower, according to scattered forum fragments, it is a region where many God-Monsters frequently appear.

The Tungsten Bone Knight remained silent. Fortunately, Xiao Yuan took it as tacit approval and continued: “Furthermore, the next God-Monster to manifest may include Deathlight, Shangsha, Blood Moon, and the Insect Lord.”

BOOM!

Before Li Cheng could react, the gray rain above jolted, accidentally elbowing the control stick. The floating Imperial Guard tank drifted backward, colliding with another and producing a loud crash.

Gray Rain gasped—the Myriad-Eye headset captured all sound. It had heard everything. What now?

“Release oil! Release oil!”

In a moment of quick thinking, she issued the order over the comms channel. All Imperial Guard tanks opened their fuel tanks; even the cube and cylinder servitors leaned out of their cabins to dump mechanical lubricant.

The oil fell, shattered by air into droplets, raining down over the swamp several kilometers from the battlefield center.

Masking the noise of the colliding tanks as distant thunder.

“It’s raining.”

Li Cheng spoke gravely, extending his hand and clenching the air tightly.

At that moment, the oil release above ended. The raindrops abruptly ceased—as if the Bone Knight had simply halted the rain with his will.

Xiao Yuan said solemnly: “We will continue monitoring the real world, maintaining balance between the two realms.”

“I hope so.”

Li Cheng dared not linger. He activated the levitation engine, skimming just above the swamp’s surface, then dove into hiding behind a low hill, watching from afar.

Wu Quan picked up the Myriad-Eye headset, retracted his submarine, and vanished from the spot.

Shortly after he left, a large cluster of fish, poisoned by the fuel, floated to the surface of the swamp—bellies up, eyes glinting with eerie light.

“Phew, thank goodness.”

Li Cheng, barely holding his act together, wiped sweat from his brow. If Wu Quan and Xiao Yuan didn’t leave soon, he’d have to say, “Get out fast—I want to see your bone-thin photos.”

At that moment, Gray Rain leapt from the Imperial Guard tank, free-falling, then used her [Spirit Ambush] skill to slow her descent before heroically landing on the ground. She brushed her hair aside and asked: “What’s this about the Insect Lord God-Monster possibly appearing?”

“The [Sand Sea Big Data Apparatus] has a 60–70% accuracy rate—it’s not guaranteed.”

Li Cheng gave a brief explanation. He had appeared as the Bone Knight, so he couldn’t turn around and ask the Special Affairs Bureau for details. “If it’s about the Insect Lord, just ask the big group.”