Chapter 282: Daybreak

"Ow, ow! Lighten up, this isn't moving bricks."

The crowd was busy.

The searchlight clearing the ruins shone painfully bright, and the dust swirling in the beam looked like a swarm of headless flies.

Jiang Yuan sat on a black, specially made alloy containment box, the Poker Card spinning on his fingertips.

Jiang Yuan's current appearance could hardly be called presentable; his combat suit was slit open in seven or eight places, and his whole body was drenched.

The box beneath his rear suddenly jolted hard.

Thud!

It was as if some living thing inside had violently banged its skull, the sound dull and irritable.

A few logistics agents responsible for moving nearby turned ghostly pale with fright, almost dropping the energy detector they were holding. Their gaze was no different from seeing zombies dancing on a graveyard at midnight.

Sigh. Be straight.

Jiang Yuan didn't even lift his eyelids, and slapped the box lid with the back of his hand.

The force wasn't great, but the specially made alloy box somehow echoed from the slap. Whatever was inside seemed to understand human speech, or was simply subdued by the hit, staying quiet for two seconds before emitting a grinding sound that made one's teeth tingle.

It was the sound of bone scraping against the metal interior.

It was so chilling that even the Heavenly Spirit Cover seemed to emit cold air, and one could even imagine a Nail frantically scratching a blackboard.

"Is… is this thing really safe?" a researcher in a full protective suit beside him swallowed, eyes behind the goggles full of terror, "The energy level reading hasn't dropped at all; this is no Containment Object, it's basically an untriggered nuclear landmine! Just now, two people from Team D got dizzy from that Spiritual Pollution as soon as they approached, and they're now vomiting foam in the ambulance."

Jiang Yuan said nothing, just slipped the Poker Card back into his pocket.

It was Ouyang Feng.

Or rather, it was the mess Ouyang Feng left behind after he doomed himself.

He hadn't repaid the debt of three million lives, he compensated himself, becoming this kind of ruthless soldier who disavows all six relatives.

Earlier the logistics team tried to box it up and take it away, but before they even touched the edge, the soaring killing aura forced them back.

In the end, Jiang Yuan kicked it in with a foot.

From afar came a muffled engine roar, breaking the awkwardness on site.

Several black sedans rolled over the gravel road, their wheels crushing standing water and splashing up a meter‑high spray of black mud. Before the cars could stop, the "no trespassing" aura had already spread.

The ruin, previously chaotic like a market, instantly fell silent enough that even a needle dropping to the ground could be heard.

The car doors opened, and first stepped out a few men in black suits, each with an earpiece, their gazes scanning like Radar, as if trying to filter the surrounding air. Then a pair of old Beijing cloth shoes stepped into the mud.

Wei Gong.

The old man looked no different from a grandpa doing tai chi in the park, wearing a faded gray Zhongshan suit, his hair silver, hands clasped behind his back as he walked over.

But with each step he took, those around involuntarily straightened their backs a bit, daring not even a breath.

That sense of oppression wasn't shouted; it radiated from his very bones. It was like an old lion, even with teeth nearly gone, no stray dog would dare bare its fangs before him.

"Chief!"

The person temporarily commanding the site was a fresh face; seeing Wei Gong was like seeing his own father, and he hurried forward to salute, his gesture so big he almost dislocated his own arm.

Wei Gong waved his hand, didn't even glance at him, and walked straight toward Jiang Yuan.

Those slightly clouded old eyes swept over Jiang Yuan, finally landing on the box beneath his rear.

"Is this it?" Wei Gong's voice was a bit hoarse, like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing, revealing no emotion.

Jiang Yuan didn't even stand to salute—he was exhausted, having completed two back‑to‑back high‑intensity missions, and finally sparred a few rounds with his old rival Chen Shao, feeling as if his entire skeletal frame was falling apart.

He merely nodded, shifted off the box, gave the box a light kick with his foot: "It's all here. Its temper's not great; it tried to bite earlier."

Wei Gong smiled, the wrinkles at his eyes bunching like a dried chrysanthemum: "Bite? It just hasn't recognized the situation yet."

The old man took two more steps, his shoe soles caked in mud, yet he seemed completely unfazed.

"Open it and take a look."

The researcher beside him turned pale, his tablet nearly tossed away: "Chief… Chief, this… this thing hasn't completed a full contamination assessment; its current energy level fluctuations are extremely unstable, if—"

Wei Gong turned his head sideways.

He said nothing, just gave him a faint glance.

His gaze was calm, yet like a bucket of ice water poured over the head. The researcher instantly shut up, his Adam's apple bobbing, scrambling to input the password, his fingers trembling as if he had Parkinson's.

"Crack—"

The sound of a pressure valve releasing hissed, white cold air surged out, and the box lid slowly sprang open.

A wave of killing aura slammed into the face.

Inside the box lay black sound‑absorbing foam, and in the center rested the knife.

It was truly ugly.

This was Jiang Yuan's second close look at it. The hilt was a segment of a pallid human spine, seven vertebrae, each polished to a shine, wrapped with dark‑red fascia that looked like still‑wet blood vessels. The guard was a skull, its jawbone open, clamping the blade tightly.

And the blade… wasn't metal at all.

It was a semi‑transparent bone‑like material, riddled with blood‑colored veins like spiderwebs. Most bizarrely, those veins were pulsating.

Thump, thump.

It was the rhythm of a heartbeat.

Wei Gong stepped closer, his hand behind his back tightening slightly, and those ever‑steady old eyes finally flickered with a hint of complex emotion.

At that moment, the knife suddenly trembled.

"Hum—!"

The skull at the guard, whose eye sockets were empty, suddenly lit up with two red glows like ghostly flames in a graveyard. Then a visible black vapor erupted from the blade, shaping into an extremely twisted human face, its mouth gaping as it lunged at Wei Gong's visage!

It was Ouyang Feng's face.

Only its features were squeezed together, snarling like an evil ghost crawling out of hell, emitting a sharp hiss as if to tear the old man before it into pieces.

"Chief, be careful!"

The surrounding bodyguards let out a loud shout, their hands reaching for their guns.

Lord Wei didn't even blink, standing still without moving a muscle, not even shifting his foot an inch.

Because a hand moved faster than a ghost.

Bang!

A crisp sound rang out.

Jiang Yuan's palm was wrapped in a layer of pitch‑black shadow, and he struck that ghostly face solidly.

The slap showed no mercy, scattering the black aura outright. The Bone Knife that had just tried to fly up was slammed back into the sponge with a clang, its red glow instantly dimming, even emitting a whimper like a dog being beaten, shivering twice.

"Got a face for you, huh?"

Jiang Yuan flicked his hand.

The scene fell into a death‑like silence.

A few researchers' eyes bulged out, their mouths open wide enough to fit an egg.

That was a manifestation of a Quasi‑S Weird! It was the monster that almost destroyed a city!

Just sent back with a single slap?

Lord Wei watched the Bone Knife in the box settle back into obedience, and his tightly drawn mouth gradually relaxed.

"Interesting," the old man evaluated, "It seems it truly fears you."

"It's not afraid of me," Jiang Yuan sighed, "It just needs to be dealt with. Captain Ouyang's lucid consciousness inside is probably barely remaining; this thing is like a stray dog—unless you hurt it, it will never know who holds the chain."

Lord Wei nodded, his gaze deep: "Has the appraisal result come out?"

The researcher beside him hurriedly handed over the tablet, voice still trembling: "Director, preliminary analysis... this object already possesses living characteristics. Its hardness exceeds any known alloy, and it has a strong self‑healing ability. The most troublesome part... it has consciousness."

"It has a strong master‑devouring tendency; even an ordinary person who merely grasps the handle will be corrupted by intense Spiritual Pollution within three seconds, becoming a fool or a slave driven by its killing desire. Only those with extremely strong mental power, or who already wield suppressing Anomalous Power, can barely use it."

After speaking, the researcher glanced at Jiang Yuan cautiously.

The meaning was clear.

Aside from this great deity, no one in the room could subdue this evil weapon.

Lord Wei didn't read the report; he just stared at the knife for a while, then sighed suddenly.

"Ouyang, Ouyang..."

The old man reached out, as if to touch the skull, but halted mid‑air. His hand hovered for a few seconds, seeming to weigh something, before finally retracting.

Lord Wei shook his head, his tone revealing neither regret nor mockery: "Perhaps this is fate."

He turned and looked at Jiang Yuan.

"This Bone Knife will not be contained in the Investigation Bureau's storage for now," Lord Wei said bluntly.

Jiang Yuan raised an eyebrow, his tone probing, "What does Lord Wei mean?"

"So, it's yours now."

Lord Wei pointed at the box, his tone as relaxed as if handing over a box of cheap apples: "This knife is temporarily unranked, not stored. It will be classified as a 'Special Containment Object', code name... just call it the Spinal Sword."

"It will be entrusted to you personally. You have the right to use it on missions, and the duty... to keep watch over it."

"Director, you treat me like a Trash Can?" Jiang Yuan chuckled wryly.

"I consider you a gatekeeper."

Lord Wei's gaze suddenly sharpened; the lazy old demeanor vanished, replaced by an awe‑inspiring authority that one dared not meet head‑on, like a sword drawn from its scabbard.

"Jiang Yuan, some things can only be opposed by monsters. What Ouyang Feng could not achieve, you can, and this knife can aid you in the process."

"Take it... until you find a more suitable next master for it."

Jiang Yuan fell silent.

The wind after the rain was a bit cold, chilling the collar of one's neck.

He lowered his head to look at the Bone Knife inside the box.

Although Ouyang Feng was a madman, a bastard who wanted to drag millions to their graves, it cannot be denied that he once was the Federation's ace who, in the dark night, wielded his blade alone and slashed countless Weirds.

Becoming a knife, continuing to kill Weirds... perhaps that is the best punishment for him, and the only redemption.

"Fine then."

Jiang Yuan gave a helpless smile.

Jiang Yuan reached out, slammed the box shut with a snap, and snapped the latch on, his movements crisp and decisive.

"Understood."

Lord Wei left.

He came and went as he pleased, waving his sleeves without taking a single cloud with him.

When the convoy departed, only the taillights drew a few streaks of red light in the darkness.

Jiang Yuan lifted the heavy box.

It was truly heavy.

It didn't feel like the weight of a knife, but rather like the mass of an adult man, pressing heavily on his wrist.

Jiang Yuan slung the box onto his shoulder, turned, and walked toward the armored personnel carrier waiting for him.

In the distant horizon, a layer of pale dawn had already spread.

Daybreak arrived.