Endless Debt

Kemp seldom forms a specific impression of any day in his life. To him, each day is exactly the same: waking up in bed, getting dressed, going to work, killing time, returning to his bed, and then ending the day.

Looking back over his past, Kemp's short life seems to have been spent in this mundane manner, as if life is inherently dull and uninteresting.

In the midst of this boredom, becoming a Condenser was one of the rare days worth remembering. It was the day he stepped into the Extraordinary World. Fortunately, these days now include one more.

In the dull hues, a blinding light lit up Kemp's face, even Shelley, who was injured beside him, strained to lift his head and look at the fiery rain falling through the fog.

The blazing fire rain illuminated the ground like flares. Inside the light rail tram, passengers saw this burning light. People curiously leaned against the windows, watching the burning light in the fog, and speculating what might be happening there.

The fog blocked all sight, isolating logic and madness, even though they were so close.

The rioters were also shocked by this sudden firelight, coming to a halt, their shadows stretched long and thin, like clawing shrubs.

Bologue landed steadily, standing on the low building where Kemp was hiding, his eyes flickering with green micro-light, intricate trajectories emerging along his hands.

"Special Operations Group?"

Kemp snapped back from the shock, realizing that the rescue team was not the fourth group, but the Special Operations Group.

Over time, the Special Operations Group was no longer a secret within the Field Operations Department. Many knew of their existence, but few had seen them.

This sounded somewhat similar to the fourth group, but in reality, the two were different.

The Special Operations Group was low-key simply because there were too few members. Including Yuriel, the entire Special Operations Group consisted of just five people. Sometimes Palmer joked that when he and Bologue went out, it took half of the group's strength.

With recent operations in the Great Rift, the two rarely returned to the "Cultivation Room," which made the Special Operations Group even more mysterious.

But these are not the reasons that make the Special Operations Group so notable. What truly makes every field staff remember them is their bizarre identity.

Debtors who signed a Blood Contract with the Devil to receive a "Blessing."

"Just you alone?"

After a brief shock, Kemp realized that only Bologue had descended. He had believed a powerful backup force was coming to his rescue, yet now, only Bologue was here, alone.

"Today is a rest day, and there were no scheduled arrangements, so my partner is on vacation."

Bologue replied earnestly, seemingly oblivious to the implication in Kemp's words.

"You? A Condenser!"

Kemp's voice raised. As a Condenser of the Origin School, he could keenly perceive the Ether reaction from Bologue. To his surprise, he had waited for someone just like himself, a First Stage Condenser.

"Is there a problem?"

Bologue continued speaking to himself, not even glancing at Kemp.

He had already seen the rioters through the fog, stepping on the muddy ground, their heavy breaths escaping through their gas masks, like the panting of wild beasts.

Bologue didn't like entering high-profile, becoming the focus of attention would limit his actions. He preferred to be an invisible Evil Spirit, silently hunting the rioters one by one.

But Kemp's and Shelley's conditions were poor. To prevent the rioters from executing them first, Bologue had no choice but to enter ostentatiously, drawing all the attention.

The effect was very successful. Bologue felt like a rock star at a concert, making a dazzling entrance amid the flames on stage.

"No problem, we're on our way."

The same voice echoed in everyone's minds. Knowing that Bologue had arrived on site, the anxious Yas finally felt relieved.

After a few seconds' pause, Yas spoke again.

"Thanks, Bologue."

Kemp and Shelley thought they misheard, but their team leader actually thanked Bologue. Before they could understand the situation, Bologue silently took out the Sheep Horn Shock Hammer, as indistinct mist swirled around him.

In an instant, a bizarre and evil fear surged in both their hearts. They couldn't understand why, as they turned their gaze to the figure standing on the low building, harder-to-describe emotions emerged.

Bologue seemed strange, becoming something they couldn't comprehend or had never seen before, and that which lay beneath his flesh casing was about to break free.

"Well then... I'll begin."

A steady voice sounded within the Heart Core Net, carrying an inexplicable joy amidst its echoes.

Before the voice faded, Bologue's figure transformed into an eerie cyan silhouette driven by Ethereal Amplification, charging toward the marauders in the mist.

"You're insane!"

Kemp flipped out from cover, raising his gun to attempt to protect Bologue. To Kemp, Bologue's actions seemed like a suicidal charge, but after a few scattered gunshots, an incomprehensible scene unfolded for him.

Tiny sparks flickered in the mist, followed by roaring flames rushing toward Bologue.

It was an alchemy armament known as the "Fire-Calling Staff," with a simple effect—creating scorching flames. Alchemists often used it as a staff to conveniently heat metals at will. However, after modification by the Gray Trade Association, its power and instability were greatly enhanced, resembling a flamethrower without the need for a fuel tank.

Bologue did not evade, and the scorching stream of fire engulfed him in an instant, the cyan silhouette dissipating. Kemp could already imagine Bologue's charred corpse.

But soon, in the continuous stream of fire, shadowy traces appeared within the fiery core, gradually expanding into a blurred human figure.

The red-hot Sheep Horn Shock Hammer smashed through the fire stream, and along with it, burst open the marauder's head.

The flames abruptly ceased, and as the rising black smoke cleared, the armored knight slowly lifted the Sheep Horn Shock Hammer, standing before the marauder who had already become a headless body, collapsing powerlessly onto the muddy ground.

Bologue turned around, the red-hot iron armor resembling snake scales cooled down, turning into gray-white iron.

The snake scales quickly receded, like a swarm of snakes slithering back beneath Bologue's collar. His cyan eyes scanned the marauders present, with an eerie breathing sound echoing in everyone's ears, as if a bloodthirsty beast was watching them from their backs.

Silence was broken by frenzied shouts, as marauders swung long knives and pulled triggers, with multiple Ether reactions erupting. It was unclear if they were hostile Condensers or activated alchemy armaments.

But none of this could disrupt Bologue's steps. A grappling hook, originally meant for escape and repositioning, was swung by Bologue and precisely nailed into a marauder's arm before retracting to drag him swiftly toward Bologue.

Bologue raised the Sheep Horn Shock Hammer, but instead of swinging it toward the marauder, the marauder himself lunged into the hammerhead.

Bodies intertwining, the marauder's corpse bent unnaturally under massive force, spine shattered and losing support, folding into a strange angle, and rolling silently on the ground before dying.

Without any harsh words or necessity for speech, Bologue rushed toward the nearest Ether reaction, and after dealing with these Extraordinary Powers, the remaining marauders were no different from hunting Demons—leisurely yet gratifying, even somewhat relieving.

Relieving?

Indeed, he's been under some pressure lately, not due to deep-seated hatred, just too many chaotic things piling up, making him quite annoyed.

Thinking of this, the image of Aimou flashed across Bologue's mind.

Sometimes Bologue thought Aimou was like a... kitten? Perhaps. She curiously wanted to approach humans and understand their various facets but felt anxious due to not understanding humans and their behaviors.

Bologue didn't know how to solve this issue. While he somewhat understood Aimou's thoughts, he couldn't outright say to Aimou: "You're just a tool, don't try to get close to humans," which would be too cruel.

Aimou understood humans but not enough; she failed to comprehend human ugliness and wickedness, nor human desires and madness.

He swung the hammer, smashing another marauder into a mess of bloody flesh, foul remains splattering onto his clothes.

Cruel?

In terms of cruelty, Bologue was precisely the most ruthless Butcher.

By rights, carrying out such cruel acts wasn't difficult for Bologue, but he soon realized that his pressure-free violence was due to these people deserving such punishment—he was merely hastening it under the guise of a greater villain's authority.

Aimou hadn't done anything wrong, or perhaps she was inherently wrong, born from Teda's forbidden, mad fantasies.

Trying to think from Aimou's perspective, Bologue quickly felt powerless.

This sense of helplessness made Bologue more irritated, even manic.

The Fire-Calling Staff reignited, numerous streams of fire covering Bologue from different angles, yet it still couldn't hinder his steps as he strode boldly out of the inferno, into the hail of bullets.

Dense bullets struck him, but only sparks erupted, and snakes quickly crawled over Bologue's surface, with dense scales easily deflecting all bullets.

He reached out and seized a marauder's throat, who screamed and slashed at Bologue's body, but could only hear metal clanging sounds. Another marauder struck from the side, trying to save his companion by holding Bologue's other hand.

But it was in vain. Under Ethereal Amplification, Bologue crushed the marauder's throat, his hand bloody as he clenched it, then landed a punch that caved in another marauder's skull.

The feeling of fulfilled violence was truly wonderful, even alleviating much of the internal agitation. Bologue threw the Sheep Horn Shock Hammer, knocking down yet another marauder, and seeing him covered in blood, Bologue laughed with a touch of madness.