Chapter 531: Dear Heroes

In the Qiu Ce Yuan infirmary, the broadcast was reporting frontline news.

"The first phase of the 'Pure World Accord' operation achieved major results."

"The Gospel Church's core stronghold was destroyed."

"Prophet Sai Men has been confirmed extinct."

"The frontline main force is returning to defense......"

The female announcer's tone, after processing, was steady, bright, and carried the rhythm of victory.

In the adjacent duty room, a young doctor whispered a line.

"We won!"

Then came uncontrollable cheers.

Someone slapped the table.

Someone cursed.

Someone even began to cry, and while cursing got choked up, saying this squad finally wasn't in vain.

Inside the infirmary, however, it was excessively quiet.

Chu Che sat at the computer, his Doctor's Lab Coat clean and tidy, the cuffs fastened tightly.

A cup of already cooled coffee sat on the desk.

Next to it were three unsigned postoperative review tablets.

On the screen, however, it did not display medical records.

It showed combat data from the top‑secret zone.

High‑dimensional radiation peak.

Xu Chen's mutation curve.

Lu Yu's Taotie Core energy‑level changes.

Qin Zhixia's obscure burning lifespan index.

Jiang Yuan's Dark Shadow Court damage rate.

Su Ming's Time Marrow Worm overload record.

Also the Symbiosis Rules of Lin Fan and Ling Xinyu, the countermeasure parameters against Sai Men's law.

Rows of data scrolled across the screen.

Chu Che lightly tapped the keyboard with his fingertips.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The rhythm was light.

Like a surgeon confirming instruments before surgery.

In the upper right corner of the screen, the last three seconds of Sai Men's extinction were magnified.

The gray Mask shattered.

The gray wind dispersed.

Lin Fan's Black Water long sword pierced the core.

Jiang Yuan's Shadow Corridor collapsed.

Su Ming's seven orifices bled.

Liang Wen, gripping his sword, stood unsteady, yet still shielded his comrade.

Chen Shao, gravely wounded, fell to the ground, his Demon Eye still forcing itself.

It was a truly marvelous scene.

A group of people with differing stances, tangled grudges, and personal motives, in the face of a genuine catastrophic crisis, somehow achieved near‑perfect coordination.

No one retreated.

No one schemed for that last bit of profit.

Even someone like Chen Shao wagered himself on the table.

Chu Che watched that frame, his fingertips halted.

After a moment, he gently nudged his Gold Thread Glasses.

"So beautiful."

His tone was so gentle it sent a chill.

From the next room, cheers rose again.

"Jiang Team, awesome!"

"Lin Fan was just too fierce! A defector saved the day; even novels wouldn't dare write that."

"Stop it, the injury register just sent back by Liang Team even noted: Dark‑Blooded King applied for divine war subsidy."

"This person survived this long not by strength, but by sheer nerve."

Laughter echoed through the wall.

It felt vivid.

Chu Che listened, his eyes unmoving.

To others, this was humanity's great victory.

In Chu Che's eyes, it was the collective response of the first batch of qualified samples in the petri dish.

Fear.

Sacrifice.

Unity.

Heroism.

These things, diluted by system, desire, class, and laziness into a foul stench in everyday life, finally get squeezed out when death presses against the throat.

Humanity is not without value.

It's just that comfort too easily spoils it.

Chu Che turned off the battle replay and pulled up another set of data.

After the "Clean World Accord" was announced, the number of volunteers worldwide for the Weird Guardians surged.

Qiu Ce Yuan applied for expanded recruitment.

Public support for the Investigation Bureau in various countries rebounded.

Reports against the underground branches of the Gospel Church surged.

In just a few hours, the world seemed forcibly tightened by an invisible hand.

Loose bones were reattached.

Rotting flesh was cut away.

The remaining people began to look up, gazing in the same direction.

Chu Che watched the rising curve, his fingertip lightly brushing the cup rim.

"The Investigation Bureau wants to force the traitor to reveal himself with war."

"But I want to use war to force humanity to become human."

"Everyone has achieved the goal."

The screen went black.

Outside the medical room, the morning sun spilled onto the white curtains, clean to the point of glare.

Chu Che, however, recalled many years ago.

At the end of the Corridor in the hospital, that lamp that had been broken for half a month remained unrepaired.

Mother lay on the hospital bed, breathing weakly, her back of the hand covered in needle holes.

When the nurse came to inform that the heart source had changed, her tone was practiced.

It wasn't an apology.

It was procedure.

"Dr. Chu, they've transferred it up."

"Urgent temporary transfer."

"Don't ask too many questions."

Later, he stood before the operating table and personally opened the chest of the billionaire who had taken the heart.

When the thorax opened, the blood was hot.

The person was also alive.

But that day, Chu Che clearly saw for the first time that the world's lesion wasn't in the heart.

It was in humanity.

When people are stable, many thoughts arise.

Wanting to be richer.

Wanting to stand atop others.

Wanting to trample the Rules and then carve a private passage for themselves.

Wanting to buy luxury cars, live in mansions, and turn others' lives into stepping stones beneath their feet.

The more advanced society becomes, the more refined the packaging of desire.

Evil also becomes more dignified.

But what if a person, from birth, understands that a Weird Domain hangs overhead, strange tales drift outside the window, and one night, closing their eyes, they never wake again?

Would he still have the leisure to ponder how to eat human‑blood buns?

Not necessarily.

His dream will become simple.

Survive.

Protect family.

Kill the Weird.

Become a hero.

And there will not be only one hero.

When the first‑generation hero falls, the second generation will take up the blade.

Later, countless people will take "saving the world" as the obvious path.

That is the true legacy.

It's not shouting a few slogans in a classroom.

It's not stamping a few red seals in a conference room.

But carving fear into the bones of civilization, so it never dares to rot.

Chu Che raised his hand and lightly tapped the air.

A crimson interface unfolded in midair of the medical room.

Weird Editor.

The characters writhe like living things.

In front of Chu Che, it is obedient as a medical record.

【Karma: 99011841】

Chu Che watches those lines of text, his lenses reflecting a scarlet glow.

"Sai Men is hard to control."

"But its experimental value is decent."

"Chaos drives people to collapse, and also makes them reveal their trump cards."

He lifts his right hand.

His slender, pale fingers sweep through the void.

The scarlet characters are drawn together, forming a thin line.

The line rotates, contracts, and compresses into a Core.

Then, a black chain protrudes from the Core.

One loop.

Two loops.

Three loops.

Tiny characters appear on the surface of the chain.

They are not Federation language.

They are not any known script.

Each character carries a tempting tone, as if whispering to anyone who sees it.

"Take me."

"Use me."

"Command me."

"Surpass me."

The lights in the infirmary begin to flicker.

The surveillance camera in the corner trembles slightly, and static appears on the screen.

In midair, that unknown device takes shape, becoming increasingly complete.

It looks like a black crown the size of a palm.

Yet it lacks the usual regal splendor.

It is coarse, odd, with seven notches around its edge.

Each notch houses a dark red eye.

Black chains coil around it, their ends hanging and swaying gently.

Chu Che pulls a disinfectant wipe from the drawer and calmly wipes his fingertips.

The motion is clean.

Gentle and elegant.

If someone were to push the door open now, they'd only think Dr. Chu had just finished a minor surgery and was preparing for rounds.

But the crown in midair is devouring Karma.

Bite after bite.

Scarlet seeps from within the crown, crawling along the chains.

The editor interface experiences a brief lag.

A large amount of Karma is forced into it.

The seven dark red eyes open simultaneously.

The infirmary's temperature drops.

The curtains move without wind.

The cheers from the adjacent duty room suddenly quieten, and someone asks in puzzlement:

"Did the power just go out?"

"No, the lights are still on."

"Why do I feel the oppressive pressure of being inspected by superiors?"

"That's because you have too many guilty deeds."

Chu Che waves his hand.

The Weird device vanishes within the scarlet interface.

Then, the screen unfolds a global Weird Domain map.

Dongdao Contamination Quarantine Zone.

Bu Lie Dian Old City District.

North America Chicago Underground Nest Ruins.

Southern Coast Ghost Ship Route.

Western North America, the chaotic Weird Domain codenamed "Waste King Court" is expanding.

There it has become an ungovernable area.

Warlord.

Mercenary.

Uncontrolled Deceiver.

Remaining Gospel Church forces.

North American official remnants.

And various monsters that have crawled out of the Weird Domain.

Order on that land has already been chewed up and spat back out.

It is most suitable for new equipment to be deployed.

It is also most suitable for making humanity understand that so‑called peace is merely a gap granted when the gods take a halftime break.

Chu Che lifted his finger and pointed at that area, red to the point of blackening.

【Deploy?】

【Confirm】

The crimson interface collapsed.

Tens of thousands of li away.

North American Wasteland.

Gray clouds press down on the ruined city; the streets are littered with burned vehicles and dried bloodstains.

At the distant edge of the Weird Domain, a red fissure silently opens.

A crown entwined with black chains falls from the fissure, striking the center of the altar in an abandoned church.

There is no earth‑shaking commotion.

Only seven dark‑red eyes slowly open in the dust.

In the medical room, Chu Che closes the interface.

All crimson traces recede.

The lights stabilize.

The surveillance feed returns to normal.

On the desk remain the medical records, coffee, and a signing pen.

Chu Che gently smooths the wrinkles on his Doctor's Lab Coat.

He stands up and walks to the window.

Sunlight falls on his shoulders, making him appear warm and reliable.

A knock comes from outside the door.

"Dr. Chu, the family at Bed Three wants to ask about the follow‑up results."

Chu Che turns around.

His eyebrows and eyes soften behind the Gold Thread Glasses.

"Let them in."

The door is pushed open.

A woman cradling a child walks in, her eyes reddened.

"Dr. Chu, is my child alright?"

Chu Che takes the report, reads it carefully, and his tone is so gentle it borders on soothing.

"Recovery is excellent."

"Take the medicine on schedule, and avoid strenuous activity."

"After two more weeks of observation, they can return to school."

The woman sighs in relief on the spot, repeatedly thanking him.

Chu Che smiles, handing the report back.

"Saving lives is a doctor's duty."

The broadcast continues.

"The Federation Investigation Bureau reminds the public that victory does not mean the crisis is over; please cooperate with local eradication and inspection efforts."

"Human civilization has entered a new stage."

"Please believe that we will eventually reclaim the tomorrow that belongs to us."

The child lies in the mother's arms, curiously watching Chu Che.

"Doctor Uncle, will those monsters outside really be defeated?"

Chu Che bends down and straightens the child's crooked collar.

"Yes."

"Because someone will step forward."

The child blinks.

"What if they get tired?"

Chu Che lifts his gaze and looks out the window.

On the lens, a clear reflection shows a red Abyss glow silently cracking in the sky somewhere tens of thousands of li away.

He smiles gently.

"Then let them rest properly."

"Only after resting will they have the strength to face the next trial."

In the broadcast, the great‑victory news continues to roll.

In the Corridor, people cheer for the world that survived.

Chu Che stands in the sunlight, his Doctor's Lab Coat spotless, his eyebrows and eyes so gentle they reveal no flaw.

Only deep within the lens does the red glow from the North American Ruined Royal Court burn quietly.

"Rest well."

"My dear heroes."