Chapter 262: Stumbling Stones on the Path to Divinity

Outside Tongzi Lou, inside the command vehicle.

Lin Linling—L's ten fingers hovered above the keyboard, the tips less than a millimeter from the keycaps, yet not a twitch.

On the screen, the green dot representing all communication signals and vital signs from Ouyang Feng's body abruptly vanished a second ago.

It wasn't the red of vital signs fading, but the gray of a signal suddenly cut off.

"Physical signal jamming..." L's voice was as flat as a taut steel wire, without any emotional inflection.

"Captain," L turned, looking at the man beside her holding a half‑old Thermal Cup, "Captain Ouyang is missing, we..."

Nie Yang said nothing.

He simply stared quietly at the stationary coordinates on the screen, the ever‑present warm, gentle smile on his face having vanished without a trace.

At that moment, an encrypted communication request forced its way in.

A crimson dialog box popped up on the screen, centered on Wei Gong's unflinching, imposing face.

The old man's voice came through the speaker, devoid of any warmth.

"Ouyang Feng has already defected from the Federal Weird Investigation Bureau."

"His next objective is to obtain the Wish Bottle and make a wish."

"At that time, extremely severe consequences will ensue."

"Before the other two Core Captains 'Mei' and 'Abyss Walker' arrive, you must stop him from making the wish, delaying as much as possible."

"If you cannot control him, you are authorized to use any means to kill him on the spot."

"No need to request permission."

The communication was cut off cleanly.

The carriage fell into a death‑like silence.

"Kill on the spot..." a young agent behind Nie Yang muttered instinctively, then terrifiedly covered his mouth.

That was Ouyang Feng.

He was the former ace of the Federal Weird Investigation Bureau.

He was the man who, in countless missions, used his absolute strength to shield them from everything.

Now, the order they received is to stop him, or... kill him.

Nie Yang slowly unscrewed his Thermal Cup, a wisp of steam rising, carrying a sweet goji berry scent.

He tipped his head to blow on it, but did not drink.

"L."

"Here."

"Regarding Ouyang Feng, what does your database analysis show?" Nie Yang asked softly.

L's fingertips tapped the keyboard a few times, a stream of data flashing across the screen.

"Ouyang Feng. Personality assessment: extremely aloof, highly goal‑oriented, with a strong competitive drive and sense of honor. Psychological profiling shows a paranoid tendency, with deep obsession toward identified matters."

"He was once upright," Nie Yang's voice was faint, as if speaking to himself.

"The data model cannot analyze 'once'," L replied calmly, "Based on current behavior patterns, the target actively jammed the signal, intent unclear. Yet its actions already pose a 'high‑risk' threat to humanity."

"No."

Nie Yang finally lifted his head; those perpetually smiling eyes now contained a bottomless pool.

"He perhaps... still retains a sliver of humanity."

"I have to see it with my own eyes."

"Chief!" L's tone wavered for the first time, "Emotional factors will interfere with judgment. Once you enter, survival probability drops below 30%."

Nie Yang smiled; that familiar benevolent grin returned to his face.

He handed the Thermal Cup to L, patting her shoulder.

"Some things always need someone to do them."

"Hold onto it for me. I'll be back soon."

Having said that, he no longer hesitated, pushed open the door, and waved to the four Special Forces members already on standby.

"Stealth team, follow me."

L sat before the screen, watching Nie Yang's not‑tall silhouette lead the four members, charging without hesitation into the ominously scented Tongzi Lou.

Like five stones deliberately cast into the Abyss.

Not a single echo will return.

The door to Room 502 was a rust‑spotted iron sheet door.

Nie Yang gestured; a team member immediately stepped forward, attaching a miniature listening device to the door.

Through the earpiece came a teenager's intermittent sobs and faint pleas for mercy.

Nie Yang's pupils contracted briefly.

He stopped waiting, leapt backward, and kicked the lock hard!

"Bang!"

A deafening blast!

The iron door was violently kicked open, buckling inward.

The scene beyond the door made the five who rushed in hold their breath.

The cramped, dim room was filled with a foul stench of cheap chemicals mixed with mold.

A frail teenager in a school uniform faded to white was being strangled by a hand, lifted high into the air.

The boy's face swelled to a pork‑liver hue, his legs flailed weakly, his throat emitting a hoarse gasp as he neared death.

And the person gripping his throat...

Clad in a crisp Black Combat Suit, his figure was slender as a blade.

It was Ouyang Feng.

There was no expression on his face, and those eyes that had once been as sharp as an eagle now held only a dead‑object coldness.

"Captain Ouyang!"

Nie Yang raised his pistol and let out a hoarse, ragged roar.

"Put him down! Do you know what you're doing!"

Ouyang Feng slowly turned his head, his gaze sweeping over Nie Yang and the four teammates behind him.

That look contained no anger, no surprise, not even a ripple.

It was like a person walking without caring about the ants beneath his feet.

He flicked his hand casually.

The boy named Wen Liang was smashed against the wall like a torn burlap sack, emitting a muffled thud, then rolled to the ground, his fate unknown.

"You......"

Nie Yang was just about to speak.

Ouyang Feng's figure moved.

It was a speed no human could attain.

On Nie Yang's retina, only a blurry afterimage was captured.

The next instant.

"Crack!"

"Crack!"

"Crack!"

"Crack!"

Four crisp, teeth‑tingling bone‑cracking sounds rang out simultaneously.

The four Special Forces members behind Nie Yang hadn't even had time to react; their bodies remained in a gun‑raised guard stance, but their heads drooped at a Weird angle.

Their cervical vertebrae were snapped instantly.

Nie Yang's pupils contracted to the most dangerous pinpoint.

Every hair on his body stood on end, the extreme sense of danger making him instinctively reach for the trigger.

But his fingers hadn't even had time to exert force.

An icy palm had already covered his wrist.

That hand was so cold it seemed not human.

Yet its strength was incomprehensibly great.

"Ugh—!"

Nie Yang let out an unrestrained howl of pain.

He watched his wrist helplessly as the hand's five fingers closed, emitting a strained groan.

Bones scraped and shattered.

The pistol clanged onto the floor.

His right hand was brutally crushed into a twisted mass of mush.

"Too slow, Nie Yang."

Ouyang Feng's voice sounded beside his ear, flat as if stating a fact.

"The human body is so fragile."

Before the words finished.

Ouyang Feng lifted a foot and precisely stepped on Nie Yang's left knee.

"Crack—!"

Another crisp bone‑breaking sound rang out.

Nie Yang could no longer hold on, collapsing heavily to his knees; the intense pain made his vision flicker black, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

Inside the command vehicle.

Through L's headset came the clear sound of flesh tearing from bone, and Nie Yang's suppressed, extreme groan.

"Captain... no..."

A crack appeared on her ice‑cold face.

An unquantifiable terror made her whole body begin to tremble uncontrollably.

In the room.

Ouyang Feng looked down from his height at the kneeling, moaning Nie Yang, his gaze devoid of any pity.

He no longer paid attention to this former comrade.

To him, the others were already stumbling blocks on his path to divinity.

He slowly turned and walked toward the object that had fallen to the ground from Wen Liang's hand.

It was an unremarkable blue‑and‑white porcelain bottle.

Under the dim light, the bottle's surface glimmered with a warm yet Weird sheen.

Wish Bottle.

Ouyang Feng extended his hand, his slender fingers moving slowly toward the cold bottle.

A new deity.

About to be born at this very moment.