Chapter 125: Church Clash – Agents Reveal Their True Form

The child's small hand still pointed at that empty corner, Zhao Jianguo held him and didn't move.

Su Qing asked softly, "Are you really okay?"

"It's fine." He handed the child back, then casually brushed his own nape; the tingling returned, like an electric wire trembling just under the skin. He lowered his head to glance at the Terminal; the Screen was black, the cable unplugged, yet the indicator kept flashing, as if it had come to life.

He no longer looked at the furnishings inside, nor turned back, and went straight into the Central Courtyard. Dawn was breaking, the wind had ceased, the banner hung limp as if asleep. He crouched by the podium, pulled the Terminal from the twin cradle's compartment, and reconnected the fragment. When thermal imaging mode activated, a blue glow again rose at his spine, its frequency identical to the mechanical arm's from last night.

"The Signal Source isn't in the sky," he muttered to himself, "it's underground, at a fixed point."

He retrieved a cached surveillance clip from the system, repeatedly zooming in on the silver wire pattern on the watch strap. It matched the photo exactly. He recalled He Yushui mentioning the "Shanghai-character license plate," then pulled up the 1953 meeting minutes, staring at the three characters "Mr. Lin" for a long while.

"Consultant? How could a consultant have a meeting record without a full name?"

He stood up, slung his tool bag over his shoulder, and casually grabbed an iron pry bar. Passing by Jia Dongxu's house, the door was open but no one inside. Sha Zhu was at the doorway polishing a steam rice cart; seeing him approach, he looked up and asked, "Where are you off to this time?"

"Just something," Zhao Jianguo said briefly, then walked straight out through the Courtyard Gate.

Half an hour later, he stood outside a deserted factory area in the western city. Weeds grew taller than a person, the Iron Gate was askew, and the wall was painted with red characters reading "Danger: No Entry." He circled to the back wall, climbed over, and stepped on broken bricks forward. At the end stood an old church with half its roof collapsed; its windows long since lost glass, and the wooden door hung ajar.

He didn't rush inside; instead he crouched at the doorway, took out a multimeter, connected the fragment, and measured signal strength. The needle jumped wildly, the reading spiking to the maximum. He grinned, "So it's really here."

He fished a phosphor torch from his bag, snapped off its cap, struck it on the ground, and a ghostly green light burst forth. With one hand holding the flame and the other gripping the pry bar, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Inside appeared larger than outside, long benches tipped in all directions, a corner of the altar had collapsed, and a tattered statue of the Holy Mother hung on the wall. He raised the phosphor flame to illuminate the surroundings and suddenly noticed several lines etched on the left wall, resembling a star map, with a year marked in the center: 1978.

"Interesting," he said, leaning closer. His fingertip traced the engraving; the depth was uniform, not hand‑carved but machine‑cut.

Just as he was about to note it, the ground beneath his foot gave way, the blue brick sinking half an inch. He reacted swiftly, leapt backward, and a "clack" sounded behind him; the hanging bell above the altar swayed, and the sound of gears turning came from the Bell Tower.

"There's a trap," he whispered, holding his breath, listening to the side for a moment, judging the sound came from the right rear. He pressed against the wall, slipped around, and hid behind the altar; the phosphor flame went out, and he switched to a flashlight, its beam sweeping the floor, revealing several bricks of a different color, clearly patched later.

He was crouching to inspect when a hoarse voice sounded from behind, "You've finally arrived."

Zhao Jianguo didn't turn, slowly stood upright, and tightened his grip on the pry bar.

The man walked lightly, step by step, approaching slowly, carrying an old‑fashioned briefcase, black, its corners worn to a pale hue. He stopped in front of the altar, three steps away from Zhao Jianguo.

"You shouldn't have come here," he said.

"Then you shouldn't have been hiding in the shadows watching me," Zhao Jianguo turned, the flashlight beam landing on his face.

He was an old man, hair speckled white, wearing gold‑rimmed glasses, a thin face with high cheekbones, his gaze as deep as well water. Yet the more Zhao Jianguo looked, the more something felt off—this face was too familiar.

"Are you… the former Chief Engineer of the Steel Rolling Factory?" he asked tentatively.

The other party didn't deny it; instead he smiled, "You still remember me? Back then I was transferred out 'because of political issues,' and the factory said I was dead. Even my file was erased."

"But you're standing here now," Zhao Jianguo stared at him, "and you look twenty years younger than the photo in the file. Who exactly are you?"

The Chief Engineer gave no answer, merely raised his left hand, opened the briefcase. Inside lay a yellowed photograph—exactly the picture of Jia Wu and "Mr. Lin" together at the factory entrance.

"Do you know him?" the Chief Engineer asked.

"I know him. Jia Wu, my master," Zhao Jianguo said calmly, "You are 'Mr. Lin.'"

"That's right," the Chief Engineer nodded, "and also the owner of that emblem on your system interface."

Zhao Jianguo felt a jolt in his chest but showed no reaction, "So you've been here all along? Since 1953 watching every 'anomaly'?"

"Not watching," the Chief Engineer corrected, "but cleaning. People like you shouldn't exist in this era. Knowing too much, doing too much, you disrupt the timeline."

"So Jia Wu was dealt with by you?"

"He learned things he shouldn't have known," the Chief Engineer said evenly, "just like you now."

Zhao Jianguo sneered, "Then why didn't you act directly? Wait until now?"

"Because of the rules," the Chief Engineer lifted his hand, rolled up his cuff, revealing a slender silver wire on the inside of his wrist, "We cannot strike proactively; we can only wait for you to enter the restricted zone. And you—fabricating trade intel, deliberately leaking the Signal Source, coming to us voluntarily. Now, you have triggered the purge protocol."

Zhao Jianguo squinted, "You say I fabricated intel?"

"Did you think those rare‑earth Coordinates were real?" the Chief Engineer laughed, "It was bait I set. You took it, so now you're an intruder."

The two stared at each other for a moment, the atmosphere taut like a drawn bow.

Just then, hurried footsteps echoed from the side aisle. Chen Jianguo burst out, his face turning pale, holding a short‑barreled pistol, the muzzle pointed straight at the Chief Engineer.

"Don't move!" he shouted.

The Chief Engineer didn't even blink.

Chen Jianguo pulled the trigger.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Three gunshots erupted in the church; the bullets struck the Chief Engineer's chest, yet no blood spurted, only a few sparks flared, as if hitting a metal plate. His body shivered slightly, his clothing unscathed.

"I told you," the Chief Engineer said slowly, "I'm not flesh and blood."

Chen Jianguo froze, the muzzle still smoking.

Zhao Jianguo grabbed him and pulled him behind the altar, "Stop shooting! He's not a real person!"

"What is that?" Chen Jianguo gasped, a strand of blood seeping from his mouth corner.

"A consciousness projection," Zhao Jianguo stared ahead, "sustained by some energy, perhaps Historical Correction Force, or maybe something else entirely."

The Chief Engineer stood still, raised a hand and brushed his own face. Then, with five fingers he clawed, tearing the entire facial skin off.

Below was a completely different visage—still the Chief Engineer, but beneath the skin a faint blue glow pulsed, like a circuit board flowing inside his body. His eyes turned pure white, without pupils.

"This is my true form," he said, "and also your future destination."

Zhao Jianguo stared at him, his mind racing. This person was neither a time‑traveler nor an ordinary human, but more like an executor modified by the system.

"1978," the Chief Engineer suddenly said, "All unregistered time‑travelers will be erased. This is not a threat, but a predetermined procedure. You cannot stop it."

"Who decided that?" Zhao Jianguo asked.

"Above," the Chief Engineer lifted his hand, pointing to the church dome, "the 'above' you cannot see."

Zhao Jianguo was about to ask when he suddenly felt his spine heat up, the blue ring flaring brightly. He looked down at the Terminal; the Screen had inexplicably lit up on its own, receiving a segment of Data Stream.

Behind the altar, a circular metal disc rose slowly, hovering in the air, its surface etched with Runes, facing him directly.

"I see," he murmured, "you are a beacon receiver, I am the Signal Source."

The Chief Engineer smiled, "Congratulations, you got it right. Your very existence is an error, and now I will correct that error."

After he finished speaking, he raised his hand, palm aimed at Zhao Jianguo.

The air began to hum, Zhao Jianguo felt numb all over, as if wrapped in an electric current. He gripped the Terminal tightly with one hand and pulled Chen Jianguo toward the door with the other.

But the door slammed shut with a bang.

"Want to leave?" the Chief Engineer stepped closer, "Since you're already here, you might as well leave something behind."

Zhao Jianguo gritted his teeth, suddenly reached into his tool bag, and pulled out a modified electromagnetic jammer—this was something he had Jia Dongxu make overnight last night, specifically to deal with high-frequency signal equipment.

He pressed the switch.

"Zzz—"

A sharp noise burst open, the lights in the church flickered, the floating metal disk shook violently, and the blue light flashed erratically.

The Chief Engineer's body swayed, the circuit patterns on his face showed a break, and his movements stalled for a moment.

Zhao Jianguo seized the chance, pulling Chen Jianguo toward the side door.

But just as they were about to reach the door handle, the Chief Engineer's voice sounded again:

"You think changing the login entry lets you escape?"

Zhao Jianguo whipped his head around.

The Chief Engineer stood before the altar, his form began to twist, like a TV screen with poor signal, but his eyes were locked tightly on Zhao Jianguo.