Chapter 884: A Night of Uncertain Futures

That night, no one in Qinggang could sleep.

Originally, a grand celebration had been arranged for the returning Tyrant Squad. Some had even planned to discuss future cooperation with the Single Soldier—basically, finding an alternative way to pay the commission due. But unexpectedly, the highly anticipated celebration was abruptly canceled.

An unseen pressure, like a dark cloud, weighed heavily on Qinggang’s triumphant leader.

Some worked late into the night, analyzing data.

Others immediately gathered the latest intelligence and watched global trends, trying to decipher clues.

Yet others, on that very night, earned immense trust, seizing Lu Xin’s bank card as if his life depended on it.

Sigh…

…

…

At the guesthouse prepared by Qinggang Cleanup Department for Lu Xin’s classmates, his peers were quietly packing up, or perhaps using the act of tidying to calm their nerves and sort through their thoughts.

Number Two sat on the pristine, soft bedding, squinting as he tried to figure out how to turn on the television in the guesthouse.

Number Three locked himself in a room, buying numerous items from the guesthouse staff – iron hooks, thick steel needles, bundles of sturdy steel wires, and even some banned hot weapons from High-wall City such as little apples, rocket launchers, and submachine guns. If not for the fact that the Special Cleaning Department’s guesthouse was unlike ordinary ones, it would have been impossible to procure such items.

Who in their right mind would call the front desk during their stay, requesting a crate of little apples and two submachine guns?

The strangest part was this: He demanded so many items, yet by the time he left the next day, his room was empty. Number Three simply strolled out casually with his hands in his pockets, not even carrying a backpack. No one knew where all the items had gone.

Before setting off, Lu Xin had even sent someone to ask if he’d like to return to Soda City to see his family.

But Number Three pondered for a long time and then refused.

“If I go, I might never come back…”

He laughed and replied, “Besides, I promised my wife that this time, once I leave, everything will be settled.”

After arriving at the guesthouse, Number Five instructed the Ghost Train to make a round trip to her secret lab. They hauled back a train compartment over three meters tall and nearly nine meters long. No one knew what lay inside that ominously dark case, but Number Five dove into it, spending almost half the night organizing it. When she emerged, her eyes sparkled with eager anticipation.

Number Eight sat in his room, meticulously cleaning and sharpening each gleaming torture device in his case—dulling the rough edges and reconditioning the ones lacking shine—with a nearly blissful expression as he observed them.

Number Fourteen sat on the sofa, having eaten an entire roasted lamb with little appetite, then stared blankly at his own swollen belly.

Little Nineteen sneaked into the kitchen of the guesthouse and stole two dining knives.

Lu Xin’s sister hid in a sealed room, seemingly busy inventorying something, as the walls occasionally trembled.

…

…

Lu Xin was out walking with Doll.

They wandered aimlessly down the street.

Enjoying the waste of time, they felt a strange, meaningless joy.

Previously, everyone in Qinggang had been sharp enough not to disturb the two at such a moment.

But this time, Qinggang seemed different—a car quietly appeared on the street. Professor Bai, Mr. Su, Chen Jing, and others stepped out. In the past, people of their stature would travel with an entire convoy, yet now a lone car had rolled out without even a single bodyguard. This change spoke volumes about the present state of Qinggang…

“If you’re planning to confront the Technology Church, then Qinggang should lend a hand,”

they said directly as they approached Lu Xin, with Professor Bai speaking first and laying out their view plainly.

“First, the Technology Church has always been a global enemy. The Alliance has suffered at their hands, and so has Qinggang.”

“Second, you are now one of Qinggang’s own. According to our Special Talent Recruitment Regulations, your contributions have even surpassed the Level Seven Special Talent standard. In other words, your status is now on par with several esteemed figures. Thus, Qinggang has a duty to protect you, whether publicly or privately. It makes no sense for you alone to shoulder this risk at the final hour.”

“…”

“I got upgraded again?”

Lu Xin was somewhat surprised—his mood lightened considerably.

But after considering Professor Bai and the others’ opinions, he shook his head and said, “No need.”

“This time, we’re not going to confront the Technology Church; it’s purely a personal matter.”

“…”

Chen Jing couldn’t hold back: “Every time you handle personal affairs, the resulting chaos is even worse than public matters.”

Lu Xin: “…”

Chen Jing sighed, “We still advise you not to confront the Technology Church—and that old Orphanage Director of yours isn’t just about one person. We should proceed cautiously. After the situation in the Dark World is resolved and our people are settled, then we can coordinate with the Northern Front to plan a strategy against the Technology Church.”

“So…”

“…”

Lu Xin shook his head, “That might be too late.”

He chuckled, “I know our Director well enough; he’d never let an opportunity like this slip by.”

“Moreover, he invited us in a personal capacity. If we acted otherwise, wouldn’t that be impolite?”

“…”

“Well…”

Noticing Lu Xin’s demeanor, several faces grew awkward.

Even Mr. Su, who usually stayed in the background, stepped forward and said, “Although I’m not too familiar with the field of Mental Alteration, after being burned too many times, I’ve learned a bit. Don’t you often say that in training Ability Users, combat isn’t the decisive factor—preparation is what really counts?”

“Your old Director has been planning for years…”

“…”

“Mr. Su, you unaccomplished fellow—you actually know the fundamentals of countering Ability Users?”

Lu Xin couldn’t help but smile and nodded seriously, “He surely has planned for many years.”

Then, he slowly added, “So have we.”

The atmosphere in the conversation grew solemn. The only light moment came from Doll’s gently blinking eyes.

“Alright, that’s enough advice.”

At that moment, Professor Bai, his hair slicked back to perfection, let out a soft sigh and laughed as he said to Lu Xin, “Although I knew you’d never be swayed, I had to try—you never know if you might start listening. If you go, Qinggang won’t stop you. This may be a personal matter, but Qinggang is ready. We’re here to…”

He took a folder from Chen Jing and said, “Take a look at Qinggang’s plan.”

“Inside is the Phase Three plan of Qinggang’s Heavenly Kingdom Project, which is also the final phase. You should familiarize yourself with it.”

“After all, you’re one of the key planners…”

“…”

“Phase Three?”

Lu Xin was mildly surprised as he accepted the folder.

He had participated directly in Phase One, even once being a core candidate during discussions.

Phase Two was also executed under his leadership as the head of the Tyrant Squad.

But before this, Lu Xin hadn’t known that Qinggang had already prepared a Phase Three plan…

“The inspiration and direction for the plan came from the genius researcher Lin Mo of Moon Eclipse Research Institute. Director Xue Jia passed it to us. The overall roadmap was designed by Qinggang’s researchers and Ability Users, and the detailed execution strategy was formulated by experts from Qinggang’s Mental Power Research Base, with help from many others.”

“But the completion of this plan is beyond our control…”

“…”

When Lu Xin wanted to understand something, he did so in a way that defied logic.

A quick glance at the plan left his face somber.

Suppressing the excitement within, he looked up at Professor Bai and asked, “Do you think this plan could actually succeed?”

Professor Bai nodded gently, “The key is whether we believe it will succeed, isn’t it?”

“Yes…”

After a moment of silence, Lu Xin suddenly laughed and said, “Regardless of success, let’s just make sure we do our job.”

…

…

At five in the morning, before sunrise, Lu Xin and his classmates boarded the Ghost Train.

Only those from the Orphanage got on; the rest of the Tyrant Squad had already completed their assignments.

The Vice-captain’s mood was extremely mixed. He had originally approached Lu Xin in a dazed, desperate state, carrying a small bag, begging for leave due to a severe bout of diarrhea. Lu Xin looked at him in surprise and said that he wasn’t needed in the first place… Gecko’s face suddenly went pale, and he quickly added, “Actually, I can join you. At least I can carry your bag…”

“At worst, if a fight breaks out, I’ll just stay out of it…”

…

“No need.”

Lu Xin smiled, shaking his head as he patted Gecko’s shoulder, “If things go south this time, I might not be able to protect you.”

Gecko let out a mournful cry and burst into tears, overwhelmed with emotion.

“Captain, I always knew your adventures with me were just for fun…”

…

Lu Xin was unexpectedly struck—he knew that in the past, risks were always uncertain, but it had never been this serious.

Logically, the principal of Red Moon Elementary School and Teacher Xiao Lu were also part of the Orphanage. Such gatherings should have included them, and perhaps even the Old Director’s letters hinted at their inclusion. Yet, Lu Xin decided not to bring her along, not even hinting at the news. Perhaps a reunion of all survivors would carry a deeper meaning…

But compared to safety and stability, what did meaning matter?

Before boarding, Lu Xin glanced back at Qinggang. He saw people standing by the Steel Drawbridge bidding farewell—he even spotted a patch of deep night tucked away in every Qinggang inhabitant’s inner world, along with a certain white-haired Missionary.

He nodded with a smile and stepped into the train.

Number Two, sporting round glasses, followed him in and found a seat to settle down.

Next was Number Three, who had just shed his wristwatch and changed into a crisp new suit.

Then came Number Five, clutching a laptop, distracted and busy tallying figures as if struck by urgent business.

Further back, Number Eight appeared with a silver handcase, a heavy overcoat, and even a white scarf…

Lu Xin couldn’t help but think, isn’t he hot?

Number Fourteen boarded while holding his belly, his expression conflicted.

Little Nineteen climbed aboard at the very end, finding a spot closer to Lu Xin and settling onto a chair.

Lu Xin’s sister, whose backpack seemed a bit small, first left her bag at the back of the train and then climbed in through a window.

“Number Two, Number Three, Number Five, Number Eight, I, Number Fourteen, Number Nineteen… Number Seventeen…”

“Eight…”

Lu Xin called out a number for each person as they boarded. When he reached his sister’s “Number Seventeen,” Number Five, who was engrossed in his laptop, suddenly looked up. His gaze lingered on her with a strange expression before quickly diverting back to his business of crunching numbers.

Everyone else in the carriage behaved normally, sensing nothing unusual.

“Everyone’s here…”

Lu Xin smiled and said, “Then let’s set off. We’re going to see the Old Director…”

…

…

Strolling and snacking…

The Ghost Train began to move slowly before suddenly accelerating at a breathtaking pace.

Behind them, from the Steel Drawbridge and atop the High Walls of Qinggang, countless gazes watched from afar.

There was worry, apprehension, determination, and even pure well-wishes.

In the East, the rising sun began to climb, its rays spreading over this once-pristine world.

Some felt a slight dizzy spell and couldn’t help but think, “This is wonderful…”

“After such a long night, many have forgotten what dawn really looks like…”

“…”

As the train surged ahead, Lu Xin and his companions peered through the windows, their minds filled with the image of a ravaged world.

The third descent, from their perspective, posed little immediate threat, yet in this world it marked a genuine catastrophe. Over the past thirty years, survivors had striven to rebuild civilization and order on the ruins left by the Red Moon incident. Now, this descent had obliterated most of it, and countless vibrant lives had vanished.

Oddly enough, when looking out from the train, the chaos and despair of the Red Moon incident were nowhere to be seen.

They saw towering machines at work, clearing rubble and constructing new buildings.

They witnessed efforts to channel water for irrigation, saving farmland.

They observed medical personnel moving between temporary settlements, treating injuries and diseases, saving lives.

And they saw groups—both official and ad hoc armed forces—either hunting down the Knights or building defensive structures.

…

…

This was a shattered world, yet within it, signs of life still emerged.

Having read the Phase Three plan of the Heavenly Kingdom Project, Lu Xin understood that this was Qinggang’s strategy.

Currently, Doll possessed enough power to obliterate the Knights atop these ruins, or to order them to defend themselves, even to reform them so that they functioned like mechanical entities, working at peak efficiency without hunger for a short time.

Yet Qinggang opted not to go that route; instead, they chose a slightly less efficient, but far more inspiring method.

For humanity, this felt like a ritual of sorts.

With this sentiment, the Ghost Train barreled through the southern borders of the Alliance and the chaotic midlands, finally traversing mountains and swamps—notably cutting through the southern line of the Chaos Zone—leaving Qinggang’s region behind and entering the frontline of the Technology Church.

At that moment, Lu Xin glanced back from the train and saw Doll’s silhouette standing among the clouds.

Clutching an umbrella, Doll waved gently at him.

“Wait for me…”

Lu Xin mouthed a silent reply and then turned away.

In that instant, his expression darkened. He exhaled deeply and cast a cold, steely gaze forward.

At the same time, everyone in the carriage raised their eyes to the front.

Even the Ghost Train seemed to sense the heavy atmosphere, its chug of movement suddenly growing weightier.

A suffocating, oppressive force descended upon every heart.

They were about to enter the territory of the Technology Church, about to witness the truth hidden behind its veil.

Long-separated loved ones were finally about to be reunited.

And everyone was ready…

…

…

Meanwhile, in a modest residence in the Core of the Technology Church—the Life City of Satellite City Eleven—Old Director Wang Jingyun, having swapped his ever-tense Zhongshan suit for something more relaxed, was rearranging the furniture to create as much space as possible. He then set up a long table large enough for everyone.

Everyone was preparing for this reunion, and so was the Old Director.

He prepared plenty of dishes, even two bottles of wine.

The table was dressed with a cloth, adorned with a vase brimming with vibrant flowers, and accompanied by an old group photo.

After placing the last chair just right, he wiped the sweat from his brow and smiled contentedly.

“Go and get it ready…”

He tied on an apron and, smiling at Number Seven in the corner, said, “I must hurry to cook.”

“My students will be here any moment now…”