Chapter 342: Solemn Meeting

Wei Gong did not rest.

Instead, he quickly set off to attend another conference on the other side of the ocean.

In the conference room.

On the table there were no flowers, no mineral water, only rows of Encrypted Terminals and paper files piled into a small mountain.

The Federation Weird Investigation Bureau never stores Core data about the Weird on any networked device—this is a lesson learned in blood.

When Wei Gong stepped in, everyone in the room rose in unison.

It was not a projection, not a holographic call.

It was living, breathing people.

North American Union Weird Investigation Bureau Director Hua Te, a bald, burly man, sat closest to the door.

Next to him was Western European Alliance Investigation Bureau chief consultant Ilena Volkova, with short silver‑gray hair, sunken eye sockets, and fingers trembling slightly as she held a cup of black coffee.

Further inside were representatives of the South Asian Union, the Middle East Alliance, the African Affairs Committee…

The top officials for Weird affairs from seventeen countries and regions were all present.

Some had bloodshot eyes, some wore expressionless faces, some even had dust on their suits—having rushed so hard they had no time even to change clothes.

This was the first time in human history that the decision‑makers of every global Weird‑response agency sat at the same table.

It was not online.

It was offline.

At this moment when global routes had been thrown into chaos, the very fact that these people could appear here indicated something.

The situation had become so serious that it could no longer be discussed behind a screen.

"Sit."

Wei Gong said only one word.

He did not take the head seat. He moved the chair aside and stood before the global situation map at the center of the round table. Six red light spots pulsed on the map, like six eyes slowly opening.

"Time is tight; spare us the chatter. Research Department, report."

On the right side of the round table, a middle‑aged man wearing thick‑framed glasses stood—Research Department chief Zhou Mingcheng. He clutched a stack of printed reports, the corners of the pages already creased.

"Everyone, the following data are up to 3 a. m. today."

He turned on the projection.

On the world map, the borders of the six red zones continuously expanded via dynamic annotation. Each frame's pulse represented the actual erosion amount over several hours.

"Since the six Weird Domain source points descended, the erosion rate has shown a continuously accelerating trend."

Zhou Mingcheng's voice trembled; he knew it himself but could not control it.

"North American Weird Domain expands twelve kilometers per day. East‑West Siberian Permafrost Weird Domain expands nine kilometers per day. The Sahara Desert Weird Domain, lacking densely populated barriers, has broken the fifteen‑kilometer‑per‑day threshold."

He turned a page.

"We have tried every conventional method—artillery, bombing, thermobaric weapons, napalm, even the North American side deployed two low‑yield tactical nuclear warheads…"

Hua Te's face twitched, but he made no sound.

"... The result was that the Weird Domain entities within the blast zone were indeed temporarily destroyed, but after forty‑seven minutes they regenerated, and the regenerated Weird Domain density actually increased by thirteen percent."

He turned off the projection.

"The conclusion is:"

Zhou Mingcheng set the report down, removed his glasses, and pressed the corner of his eye with the back of his hand.

"With humanity's current military power, we cannot inflict any substantive damage on an S-Class Anomaly Domain. Projecting from the current expansion rate, the time left to us…"

He did not finish.

No need to finish. Everyone present had already seen that projection report. Three years. Optimistically, in three years the borders of the six S-Class Anomaly Domains will connect. By then the entire Earth's surface will have not a single inch of land suitable for normal human habitation.

The conference hall fell into a suffocating silence.

Ilena set down her coffee cup; the bottom struck the table with a light "tap," startlingly sharp in the quiet.

Hua Te crossed his hands over his chest, his thumbs unconsciously rubbing back and forth—a small habit when he is nervous.

The South Asian representative lowered his head, unsure what to look at.

Despair needs no words to convey. It spreads like a virus, infecting everyone present through the air.

"Peng—!"

The teacup was slammed onto the table, its lid popping up and rolling far away.

Everyone's gaze was drawn back by that crisp sound.

Wei Gong stood before the situation map, one hand still pressing on that pitiful teacup. The old man's face showed no extra expression, but his eyes—everyone noticed—those usually clouded, fog‑veiled old eyes now shone terrifyingly.

"Finished listening?"

"All heard? Then I'll say something."

Wei Gong scanned everyone present.

"Are you here to write eulogies for humanity, or to fight?"

No one answered.

"Alright, then I'll show you something different."

He turned around and entered a string of commands on the console.

The situation map vanished, replaced by an entirely new data model.

"Everyone, in Supervisor Zhou's report you only heard one piece of information—S-Class Anomaly Domains are powerful, terrifying, and will keep expanding," Wei Gong's speech was unhurried, each word enunciated clearly, "but you missed another piece of information."

On the big screen a segment of encrypted communications and multiple sets of biological data curves popped up.

"Weird Domains are not invincible."

When those five words landed, several people in the conference hall lifted their heads simultaneously.

"They have rules."

Wei Gong extended a finger and tapped a set of data highlighted with a red box on the screen.

"Do you remember? Our anomalous operatives survived and broke out in the Weird Domain of Saint John Hospital in North America. Ten days ago, in the Blood Moon Weird Domain, our personnel and several anomalous operatives completed deep interaction within the TV Tower Weird Domain. All survivors' combat data, after cross verification, point to the same conclusion."

He paused for a beat.

"Every Weird Domain, regardless of its size or level, has a bottom‑layer operating logic that follows an absolute, unbreakable system of rules. Once these rules are fully parsed, there exists the possibility of targeted violation. In other words—"

Wei Gong turned around, facing seventeen faces filled with various emotions.

"Weird Domains can be conquered."

"A conquered Weird Domain will collapse and vanish, and the territory it swallowed can be reclaimed. Moreover—"

He lifted his chin, indicating everyone to look at another set of data on the screen.

"Those who successfully conquer a Weird Domain can obtain great power from it! You may refer to the Federation's first anomalous operative, Shadow Lord Jiang Yuan, and the existing anomalous operative cases archived in the database of everyone present. Their power all originates from Weird Domains."

Silence lasted two seconds.

Walter in North America spoke first, his voice hoarse: "You mean those monster nests… are actually our 'arsenal'?"

"That can be understood that way," Wei Gong did not deny.

The atmosphere in the conference hall began to shift subtly. The underlying hue of despair hadn't fully faded, but something else started seeping through the cracks.

Once people see a path, they won't obediently wait for death.

"But that doesn't mean we can be careless."

Wei Gong's hand tapped twice more on the console.

The large screen displayed everything.

The repair footage of the combat recorder.

Resolution was low and the tone dim, yet each frame was brutally clear.

In the footage, the top level of the TV Tower.

Jiang Yuan, Liang Wen, and Su Ming combined for the ultimate joint strike— the Shadow Legion turned into a black torrent cascading down, Space Collapse warped the light itself, and special‑attack missiles tore countless trails through the flames.

That was the highest‑intensity attack humanity's current power could project.

Then, at the center of the screen, a staff gently touched the ground.

Gray‑white ripples spread.

All attacks, the moment the ripple passed, were erased like chalk drawings wiped away by a hand.

Jiang Yuan's Shadow Legion—evaporated.

Su Ming's Space Collapse—reset.

Liang Wen's full‑power output—nullified.

The three bodies were almost simultaneously struck back and hurled, carving three blood marks in the camera.

And the figure wearing a Gray Mask and leaning on an Eyeball Staff never changed even a single stance from start to finish.

The footage froze on the frame where Sai Men looked down from a bird's‑eye view. From the two hollow eye sockets of the mask, crimson light seeped out, like two flames not of this world.

The entire clip was under forty seconds.

But in the conference hall, no one spoke.

Walter lowered his crossed arms.

Yi Lianna's hand holding the coffee cup finally stopped trembling—because it had been frozen in mid‑air.

Someone's breathing became rapid and shallow.

Fear differs from shock. Shock is seeing something beyond comprehension; fear is seeing something beyond comprehension that cannot be resisted.

The forty‑second footage stacked both emotions to the brim.

Wei Gong turned off the projection, giving no one time to digest.

"This person."

His voice pulled everyone out of that daze.

"Self‑identified as 'Sai Men', is currently the only known humanoid entity that actively stands on the Weird side and opposes human civilization. From today onward, the Federal Weird Investigation Bureau will officially classify it as—"

He turned, writing a line of text in a blank area of the tactical map.

"The world's first S‑Ji hostile anomalous operative."

"All humanity—number one arch‑enemy."

When the pen's tip laid down the final stroke, the conference hall's temperature seemed to drop another two degrees.

"He may be human," Wei Gong set the pen down, his tone so flat no emotion could be heard, "but he chose to stand on the Weird side. He chose to push humanity into this meat‑grinder. He chose to use seven billion lives to test his damn evolution theory."

The old man rarely uttered a curse.

"Therefore, from this moment, the Bureau's core strategy shifts to a dual‑track parallel approach."

He raised two fingers.

"First track: conquer Weird Domains, reclaim territory. Form specialized conquest teams, deliberately cultivate anomalous operative ranks, gradually nibble away at the six major S‑Ji Weird Domain regions, retaking the lost ground inch by inch."

"Second track."

He withdrew one finger, leaving only his index, pointing at the frozen Gray Mask on the screen.

"Gather the world's power to hunt Sai Men."

Walter stood up.

The bald, muscular man offered no pleasantries nor objection; he only asked, "What about the timetable?"

"There is no timetable," Wei Gong shook his head, "because we can't wait. From today we must act, learning and adapting while fighting. The dead will inevitably die, but as long as anyone can walk out of a Weird Domain alive, we are one step closer to victory."

Yi Lianna finally set down the coffee that had long since gone cold.

"I will, in accordance with the prior national‑level conference agreement, open all analytical models concerning rule‑type Weirdness," she said, her voice hoarse yet steady, "but I need your guarantee that the results of the anomalous operative cultivation program will be shared synchronously."

No problem.

Lord Wei surveyed the whole room.

Seventeen pairs of eyes looked at him. Some were weary, some were fearful, some were already calculating profit exchanges. Yet none of the eyes chose to close.

Because a civilization that closes its eyes has no right to see tomorrow's sun.

"Everyone, I won't utter empty slogans like 'humanity will win'."

Lord Wei lifted the teacup whose lid he had cracked, and set it upright again.

"I only know one thing."

"The planet beneath our feet is the only home for seven billion people."

"Anyone who wants to tear it down must first ask whether we consent."

Humanity has spent millennia killing each other; for the first time, that force has been twisted into a single fist.

And in a high‑end apartment thousands of miles away.

Chu Che's gold‑trimmed glasses reflected the faint glow of the laptop screen.

He recorded the entire meeting, not a single word missed.

"Iron Curtain Plan, dual‑line strategy, hunt Sai Men......"

He pushed his glasses up, the corner of his mouth curling as if appraising the experimental design of a medical paper.

"—Not bad."

"The drug's effect has begun to work."

He shut down the computer, rose, and walked to the floor‑to‑ceiling window.

Outside, deep within the crimson sky's fissure, a new Weird Domain is silently breaking its cocoon. Inside, the coffee's lingering warmth has not yet faded.

Chu Che picked up the scalpel‑shaped bookmark on the table and slipped it into the half‑opened A Brief History of Humanity.

This operation has just made its first incision.