Chapter 485: The Unconventional Master of the Uncanny

The rain stopped.

But the stench of stagnant water in the slum alley grew stronger, mingling with iron rust and an indescribable foul odor, rising up from the damp brick gaps.

When Liang Wen pushed open the car door, his foot stepped into a puddle about half a finger deep.

Tsk.

He glanced down at his polished combat boots, a speck of dirty mud splattering the toe. Normally he'd have to perform a split‑second stunt on the spot, but today he merely frowned, lifted his foot, and walked deeper into the alley.

The hem of his black long Windcoat felt especially heavy in the humidity.

Behind him, technician Xiao Liu quickened his pace and lowered his voice: "Liang Team, the scene is inside, the passage between Building 7 and Building 9. When we arrived… the situation was… that kind of thing."

Liang Wen gave no response.

He had already smelled it.

The scent of blood was trapped in the narrow alley by the damp air, its concentration choking the nose. Turning the corner past the last crumbling wall, the scene slammed into his view.

Five people.

All lying on the ground.

Their positions varied.

The worst victim appeared to have been crushed head‑on by a heavy object; ribs and organs were utterly pulverized by the blow, yet the surface of the body bore only a perfectly regular, about twenty‑centimeter‑diameter dent. Even the pricey "Hunter‑Demon" C Ji protective armor on his body was flattened into a thin sheet of metal, pressed tightly against the collapsed skin.

Technician Xiao Liu walked to the nearest corpse, sweeping his flashlight over it, his voice a little tense: "Liang Team, the preliminary investigation results are in."

"Speak."

"Five people, time of death no more than an hour. All killed with a single blow, with no signs of struggle or resistance. The killer's strike was extremely fast, so fast that they didn't even have time to trigger the Weird life‑saving devices they wore."

Xiao Liu paused, his tone becoming stranger: "The crucial point is that around the wound edges, including all ground and walls within the spray range, no Anomalous Power radiation residue was detected."

Liang Wen crouched.

He didn't touch the corpse, but with his hand wearing Fingerless Gloves he lightly gauged the depth and shape of the dent.

Palm wind.

Pure, violently extreme palm wind.

He didn't even employ any Rule System Weird power; relying solely on augmented, instantaneous muscular burst and precise force control, he completely flattened and crushed an adult male along with his Tactical Vest on a purely physical level.

"This is also this month's," Liang Wen stood up, his voice dropping, "the third case where a hunter‑ghost squad was wiped out by the No‑Trace Group."

Xiao Liu gave no reply.

The alley was so quiet that only the sound of water droplets striking the rusted air‑conditioner unit echoed—tap, tap, tap.

Liang Wen approached another corpse. The deceased was a bearded, muscular man, evidently the leader of this group. His death was the most gruesome; his chest cavity was nearly flattened to paper, and his rugged face was frozen in a look of astonishment before death—not fear, but sheer bewilderment.

As if he never figured out how he died, even at the moment of death.

"This armor is a custom model from 'Gray Rhino' Military Works, C Ji defense standard, capable of hard‑standing a B Ji Rule System Weird frontal impact." Liang Wen tapped the twisted metal on the corpse's chest with his boot tip, "but this dent in his chest…"

He paused, a faint weight flickering in his eyes.

"It wasn't caused by Rules."

Xiao Liu was stunned: "Not Rules?"

"No." Liang Wen straightened, his gaze sweeping the scene. "Rule Murder leaves corresponding 'traits' behind—burn, freeze, cut, corrosion… but there's nothing here. It's as clean as if a red‑hot iron ironed over it directly."

He turned to Xiao Liu: "Can technical means reconstruct any of the killer's physical features?"

"We're working on it." Xiao Liu brought up his portable terminal on his wrist, projecting a fuzzy data stream. "All surveillance probes were pre‑emptively destroyed; the method was professional—not a cut, but a direct burn of the chip core. Within three hundred meters of the site there's no usable video record."

Liang Wen knit his brows.

This doesn't feel like a spur‑of‑the‑moment act.

More like a planned, targeted cleanup operation.

"But…" Xiao Liu's tone shifted as he pulled up another waveform, "we found this on the bearded man's corpse."

It was a palm‑sized micro‑camera embedded in the inner lining of the victim's Tactical Vest. The outer shell was shattered, but the storage chip remained barely intact.

"It was probably installed by the victim himself, to record the hunt for post‑mission accounting or evidence," Xiao Liu explained. "We restored the last half‑second of audio residue."

He pressed the play button.

A fleeting, noise‑filled recording streamed from the terminal.

The sound of wind, and rapid breathing.

Then a voice sounded.

Young.

Steady.

Even with a soothing tone, as if comforting a frightened little animal.

"Don't be afraid."

The recording cut off abruptly there.

The alley grew even quieter.

Liang Wen stared at the waveform, saying nothing.

Xiao Liu swallowed: "Liang Team, this audio… is it addressed to the prey?"

"No." Liang Wen shook his head, his voice light. "It's spoken to the Weird."

Xiao Liu's pupils contracted sharply.

To the Weird, 'Don't be afraid'?

What the hell is this?

Black‑on‑black monster‑snatching? Or some lunatic awakening a weird XP?

"He isn't monster‑snatching." Liang Wen seemed to see through his outlandish guess, crouched, and picked up something from beside the bearded corpse.

It was a shattered jade plaque, its edges still emitting a faint lingering resentment wave.

It is the corporeal medium of this Fierce Ghost.

"The killer killed these five ghost hunters, then took the Fierce Ghost away." Liang Wen placed the jade tablet fragments back into the evidence bag, his tone calm as if stating the weather, "He isn't hunting; he's saving people."

"Save...... Weird?" Xiao Liu felt his worldview shaken.

"Precisely, it's a 'recovery'." Liang Wen stood up, brushed off the dust on his knees, "This month three cases, all the Fierce Ghost corporeal media at the scenes have vanished without a trace. The killer specifically targets high-value targets on the bounty list, kills ghost hunters, takes the Weird, leaving no trace at the scene."

He walked to the alley entrance, looked up at the leaden-gray sky.

"He is containing and protecting these Weird."

Xiao Liu opened his mouth, after a long time managed to say: "But...... this completely defies common sense! Fierce Ghosts are monsters, threats, mission targets! Who would be idle enough to risk being doubly wanted by the Federation and Eden Garden to protect those things?"

"That's why this is interesting."

Liang Wen turned around.

The hem of his Windcoat stirred a gust of damp wind. The playful look in his peach-blossom eyes vanished completely, leaving only a blade-like cold light.

"Lost kin of the dark night......" He muttered a line from some chuunibyou novel, then shook his head and returned to a normal tone: "Xiao Liu, seal the scene, send all samples to General Bureau Section Three for urgent analysis. Also, retrieve the execution records of the 'Ghost Hunter Bounty Order' for Jianghai and surrounding cities over the past six months, especially cases of mission failure or personnel disappearance, and sort them chronologically."

"Yes!"

Liang Wen didn't linger any longer.

He quickly walked back to the black armored vehicle, opened the door, climbed into the rear seat, and as he shut the door, only he remained inside the cabin.

Outside the window, the dull, dust-covered buildings of the slum slowly receded.

Liang Wen pulled an old flip phone from his Windcoat's inner pocket, pressed the power button. The screen lit up; the contacts list held only one number.

He dialed it.

It rang three times, then connected.

From the earpiece came an aged yet extremely steady voice, only two words: "Speak."

"Boss." Liang Wen leaned against the leather seat, his fingers unconsciously tapping his knee, "The slum case has a lead."

"Speak."

"It wasn't the Weird committing the crimes; it was a person. A living person, and an extremely formidable Mystic Controller." Liang Wen sped up his speech, "The killer specifically targets high-difficulty marks on the Bounty Order, possesses extremely strong counter-investigation abilities, and leaves almost no evidence at the scene. Most importantly, his goal is not to seize monsters, but to 'protect' those Fierce Ghosts."

On the other end of the line, silence fell for a few seconds.

"Protect Fierce Ghosts." Wei Gong repeated, his tone giving no hint of emotion.

"That's right." Liang Wen sat upright, "I suspect he is establishing...... some kind of containment organization. Specifically targeting the wanted, hunted Fierce Ghosts, he 'rescues' them from ghost hunters' hands and then hides them."

Another silence followed.

After a long while, Wei Gong spoke, his voice still steady: "How large is this organization?"

"Currently unclear. But based solely on this month's three cases, they have at least successfully 'recovered' three Fierce Ghosts of B Ji or higher, and the ghost hunters they've counter-killed exceed fifteen." Liang Wen paused, "Moreover, his targets are highly specific: all are gray-zone ghost hunter squads with blood on their hands, using the Bounty Order to launder their reputations."

That was said rather euphemistically.

The subtext is: the killer picks ghost hunters who prey on their own kind; to some extent, it could even be seen as cleaning house for the Federation.

Wei Gong let out a light laugh on the other end of the line.

That laugh was brief, devoid of discernible emotion, yet it sent a slight chill down Liang Wen's back.

"Interesting." Wei Gong said, "Do you know who it is?"

"Not certain yet. But the killer is likely a young person, probably under twenty, with a steady voice and extremely strong mental fortitude." Liang Wen recalled that audio clip, "Furthermore, his attitude toward Fierce Ghosts...... is highly abnormal. Not exploitation, not fear, more like 'empathy'."

"Empathy?" Wei Gong's tone finally carried a hint of faint interest.

"Yes. That line 'Don't be afraid' is not charity, not hypocrisy, but genuine reassurance." Liang Wen rubbed his forehead, "Old Wei, I've been in this line for so long, this is the first time I've met someone like this. He seems...... to genuinely believe that Fierce Ghosts are also 'people' deep down."

The line went completely quiet.

Liang Wen could hear his own breathing, and the occasional clamor unique to the slum drifting past the car window.

A full half-minute passed before Wei Gong's voice returned.

This time, each word was as precise as if measured with a ruler.

"Liang Wen."

"Here."

"This case, effective immediately, is to be listed as a priority."

"Understood."

"Mobilize your entire team, plus all resources from Section Three, to form a Project Team." Wei Gong's pace was unhurried yet carried undeniable weight, "I want you to identify this person within one month."

"Yes."

Liang Wen's fingers gripping the phone tightened slightly.

The call ended.

Liang Wen held the warm phone, leaning back against the seat.

Outside the window, the dingy slum scenery sped backward in reverse. In the distance, the skyscrapers of City Center reflected a cold metallic sheen in the post-rain clearing light.

Two worlds.

One side is a steel jungle, the other is a mire of filthy lanes.

And in that gap, something is quietly taking root and sprouting.

Liang Wen flipped down the passenger-side visor, tidying his wind-blown hair in the small mirror there.

"All right." He smiled at his reflection in the mirror, the smile tinged with eager excitement and a hint of solemnity so faint he himself didn't notice.

"Just consider it......"

He pushed open the car door, took a long stride, and stepped into the damp air.

"A retirement job."

Behind him, the armored vehicle's engine rumbled low.

The road ahead stretches far.

And the boundary between hunter and prey, in this silent rain, is becoming increasingly blurred.