Chapter 508: Screening List

4:17 a. m.

Federal Weird Investigation Bureau Headquarters, underground circular conference room.

The smell of smoke was heavy. Several Senior Executives had been smoking through most of the night, the ashtray piled into a little mountain, yet no one was willing to get up and open the ventilation.

A holographic projection hovered over the center of the circular table.

The image was looping.

First came a development analysis report, a crimson Crystal Stone structural diagram rotating slowly, with strings of eye‑catching data scrolling beside it. Then the scene switched: in ruins, a youth with a pale‑blue right eye and a scarlet left eye brandished a knife, slashing the ground.

A hundred‑meter‑long scorch mark, like a wound that had burned through the Rules.

When the projection finished, it started over from the beginning.

Lord Wei sat at the head of the table.

His graying hair was neatly combed, and every button of his Zhongshan suit was fastened up to the collar. He didn't watch the projection; he simply held the cup of tea that had long since gone cold, his fingertips slowly rubbing the cup's inner wall.

The conference room was so quiet that the faint hum of the projector's cooling could be heard.

Finally, someone in the row of seats belonging to the Staff Department could no longer hold back.

"Snap!"

Lao Zhou slapped the tabletop, causing the tea cup to jump.

"Lord Wei! What else is there to discuss?" He stood up, the blue veins on his neck bulging, "A defector of the Imperial Weird, in front of our Investigation Bureau's core members, drew a line and openly declared war on the Federation! What is this? This is riding on our heads and pooping!"

A few hardliners beside him echoed his sentiment.

"Activate the strategic‑level Containment Object," the Senior Executive to his left said in a grim tone, "'Cooperate with targeted elimination. All existing so‑called 'rational Fierce Ghosts', plow them all.'"

"Right! Cut the weeds at the roots."

"Today we bow to Lin Fan, tomorrow there will be a second, a third Lin Fan. Once this opening is made, where will the Federation's face be placed?"

The voices grew higher and higher.

Someone even mentioned that massive, lethal Weird weapon sealed in the deepest armory, never activated.

"I don't care how strong he is! A monster is still a monster! What fairness or reason can we speak to a monster? What we need to do is make every Weird understand—opposing the Federation leads only to death!" Lao Zhou's spit flew out.

The conference room was about to ignite.

Lord Wei still did not move.

He set the cold tea down, producing a faint clink. Then he smiled.

The laugh was small, pressed out from his chest, carrying an indescribable chill.

The whole room's clamor was suppressed by that laugh.

Lao Zhou was stunned: "Lord Wei, what are you laughing at?"

Lord Wei gave no answer.

He raised his hand, pulled a stack of photos from the kraft paper bag before him, his wrist trembling, and dozens of pictures scattered across the long table, sliding far away.

"Take a look at all of them," he said.

The nearest Senior Executives bent over to pick them up.

The photos showed a close‑up of Lu Yu's thorax. Deep within the gaping wound, a fist‑sized dark‑red crystal clung to the myocardium, vascular‑like threads burrowing in, dense and tangled, as if some living organism were parasitizing the boy's heart.

"What is this?" someone frowned.

"Some kind of Crystal Stone," Lord Wei enunciated the four words slowly, "Gods don't know, ghosts don't notice; it was implanted into Lu Yu's heart. Its function is to catalyze the gluttonous beast's loss of control."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over every face in the room like a hawk.

"According to Su Ming's calculations, if Lin Fan hadn't delivered that slash—"

Lord Wei's voice was low, yet the room's temperature dropped several degrees.

"At this moment, the underground of Qiu Ce Yuan, together with the surface structures, have already vanished from the maps. We, the living, can't even gather enough ashes."

Dead silence.

Lao Zhou opened his mouth, but the slogans that had just roared now clogged his throat.

"Think carefully before you speak," Lord Wei stood, hands braced on the table edge, leaning forward, "Is our current enemy a rogue lone wolf?"

No one answered.

"No," he answered himself, "It is a high‑dimensional being that can silently slip a hand into the highest levels of Qiu Ce Yuan and plant explosives into the heart of our End of Days Fire Seed!"

"It is a 'God'."

The moment that word left his mouth, several hardliners' faces changed.

Lord Wei's gaze fixed on Lao Zhou: "Lao Zhou, you shouted loudly just now. 'Cleanse the Fierce Ghosts.' Fine."

"But have you ever considered," he said deliberately, "when we mobilize all our forces to slaughter those Fierce Ghosts who have never harmed anyone, what will Lin Fan do? How will the God use that to scheme?"

"You want to let the few strongest knives we have, when we are beset on all sides, turn against us and be pressed to our own throats?"

Lao Zhou's face flushed red then turned pale, and he slowly sat back down.

No one spoke again in the conference room.

Lord Wei straightened his back.

He paced two steps to the projection, reached out and turned off the looping video. Lin Fan's face vanished, the scorch mark disappeared, and the room dimmed for a moment.

"So."

He turned, his back to the light, his voice sinking.

"I announce that, effective today, the Dragon Rearing Plan is revised."

The moment those words were spoken, several Staff Department Senior Executives snapped their heads up.

"Lord Wei!"

"Silence," Lord Wei raised his hand, "From now on, cease actively hunting rational, harmless Fierce Ghosts, and stop using them as experimental fodder."

Lao Zhou still wanted to argue, but Lord Wei cut him off, his tone devoid of any warmth.

"Don't misunderstand. This isn't about giving the Fierce Ghost any 'residence permit'."

He scanned the room with a cold gaze.

"This is merely a 'turn a blind eye' move by the Federation during its strategic contraction phase. It restores our relationship with those guys to the pre‑war state—'the well water doesn't offend the river water.'"

"If they don't provoke us, we just pretend not to see them. That's all."

Lord Wei's words were so rigid that those who had originally wanted to oppose him found no opening for rebuttal.

The logic sits right there.

On one side are unseen, untouchable deities that can permeate the Core layers; on the other side are underground Fierce Ghosts that don't strike proactively.

Who is less significant and who is more, everyone can see clearly.

"Anyone opposed, raise your hand," Lord Wei said.

No one raised a hand.

Lao Zhou lowered his head, staring at the photo of Lu Yu's heart before him. After a while, he forced out through his teeth, "... I have no objection."

"Approved."

Lord Wei nodded, then returned to the head seat. He lifted the glass of cold tea, but did not drink, and set it back down.

"Hunting Fierce Ghosts originally consumes a certain amount of resources and combat power; you all know the figures," his gaze lingered on each face for a second, "Now, all of that is saved."

"Not a single point left; everything is transferred to—internal ultimate review."

"Dig three feet into the ground, and still bring me that 'Inside Traitor' who can reach Lu Yu and plant something in his heart."

When he said the words 'Inside Traitor,' his voice dropped extremely low, yet it felt like two cold iron slabs grinding over everyone's heart.

"I don't care whether he's a professor at Qiu Ce Yuan or a veteran of the Investigation Bureau. Even if he's the one sitting in this room—"

Lord Wei looked around.

"Whoever we find, we deal with them."

In the conference room, several Senior Executives instinctively exchanged glances, their eyes showing surprise, fear, and a hint of doubt no one dared voice.

Everyone knows that anyone who can move freely at the highest levels of Qiu Ce Yuan and reach into the containment Core area is certainly no minor figure.

That doesn't mean such a person isn't in this room.

Lord Wei stared at that face, slowly leaning back in his chair.

"Meeting adjourned."

The two words fell, and the crowd, as if granted a pardon, rose up. The sound of chairs being dragged and papers being gathered rustled together.

No one said another word.

Just as the last Senior Executive was about to exit the circular door—

The confidential Communicator on Lord Wei's desk lit up with red light.

The glaring red flickered, standing out sharply in the dim conference room.

Lord Wei's finger hovered in mid‑air.

Those Senior Executives who hadn't gone far also halted, all turning back at once.

Lord Wei pressed the answer button.

Through the Communicator came Su Ming's voice.

The voice was weary, hoarse from a night of sleeplessness, yet the content of his words made the room's temperature drop again.

"Director."

A brief pause.

"The preliminary screening list is ready."

"Lu Yu at Qiu Ce Yuan... all persons he had close contact with in the past month."

Lord Wei said nothing.

He slowly lifted his gaze toward the circular door that was not fully closed, his eyes seeming to pierce the layered rock wall, seeking deeper, darker places.