Endless Debt

The heavy warhead hit the bullseye, and Bologue's body uncontrollably leaned backward. Even with the protection of Deceitful Snake Scale Liquid and Iron-Repelling Armor, the gunshot still felt too heavy.

The alchemy warhead seemed to be imbued with the power to penetrate all matter, collapsing layers of metal and exploding a bloody hole in Bologue's chest, where countless blood mists scattered amidst the mangled flesh.

In an instant, the splattering blood mist froze in mid-air, as if time had reversed, they all repositioned, reorganizing the wound.

"He is an Undead!"

Kemp nearly screamed; he recalled the rumor that the Special Operations Group had a Debtor burdened with immortality. He never expected to meet him here, especially in such a manner.

Then he understood Bologue's words; Bologue was unkillable, and the other's attempt to hunt him seemed absurd.

As Bologue was hit, the Iron Spear in his hand was flung. The mist interfered with Bologue's sight, and the opponent seemed distant, making it impossible to detect any Ethereal Fluctuation. He suspected Ethereal Concealment could be hiding the enemy's trace.

He could only roughly estimate the trajectory's direction and threw the Iron Spear to retaliate; under the Ethereal Amplification's blessing, Bologue's spear pierced through the fog easily.

Soon after, a heavy echo came.

Bologue was fully vigilant about the gunfire; by contrast, these remaining marauders posed little threat as they were merely a guise.

With this in mind, a swarm of snakes gathered in Bologue's hand, forming a Flying Knife, which he then hurled toward several moving figures.

The cold metal sliced through the air, precisely hitting several marauders' feet, causing them to fall into the mud, losing their mobility.

Bologue needed a few alive; he needed to understand what was happening.

From some unknown time, the silent Great Rift seemed to be nurturing something, conspiracy and eerie linger here, waiting for the madness to break free.

Bologue liked to immerse his perspective in others, thinking from the other side's viewpoint to find the combat's winning chance.

But everything encountered today gave Bologue an unusually strange feeling. He couldn't comprehend the enemy's motive; if they intended to hunt Field Staff, the shooter should have killed Kemp and Shelley earlier.

To draw out reinforcements and capture all at once?

That's even less likely; within Opus, apart from the old rival King's Secret Sword, few could contend with the entire action team.

The nearest reinforcements?

Currently, the Order Bureau has only two action groups on duty in the Great Rift, and the mysterious Fourth Group is clearly not among them, so it could only be himself.

The setup must be targeting himself.

Why him? Hunting an Undead? That sounds too futile.

This perplexity did not confine Bologue for long; Bologue believed that everyone's actions brought intense purpose, now no exception.

The mysterious adversary certainly harbors some purpose; he just doesn't yet understand what the conspiracy is.

But Bologue knows that, if the guess is correct, he has already stepped into it.

"Yas, how long until you arrive... this matter is more complicated than I thought."

Bologue stood alone in the fog, with earth walls collapsing around him, exposing his figure.

"What are you doing?" Shelley didn't understand Bologue's move; this undoubtedly exposed himself to the shooter.

"Let him see me."

Bologue rarely addressed Shelley's query, but it seemed more like speaking to Yas.

"See if he'll continue shooting or retreat," Bologue stared at the gloomy front, "I would prefer him to continue aiming at me."

After a brief confusion, Shelley understood Bologue's intention.

Bologue had come to rescue the two, his primary task being to protect Kemp and Shelley. If Bologue rashly pursued the shooter, it might be a diversion, waiting for Bologue to leave before enemies emerge from the shadows, surrounding the two.

Even if Bologue speculated that Kemp and Shelley were bait, the diversion possibility is small, but Bologue couldn't bet their lives so easily.

Thus the situation reached a deadlock, with Bologue unable to pursue and the shooter having free rein. Once choosing to leave, Bologue would lose all pursuit possibilities.

Now Bologue must make himself bait, tempting the shooter to continue firing.

Meanwhile, Bologue is still pondering, what significance lies in hunting an Undead?

"We're here! I sensed your ethereal fluctuation and will arrive in no more than two minutes," Yas's voice rang out.

Is this what it means to be the head of the Violence Suppression Action Group? Even from so far away, Yas could detect my ether response. It's hard to imagine how sensitive he must be to ether flows.

"Two minutes, can you manage?" Bologue retorted.

"We can," Kemp understood Bologue's meaning, "it's just two minutes, no matter what happens, we can hold on."

Kemp and Shelley, like Bologue, were recently transferred newcomers to the Field Operations Department. The early work for newcomers was always fraught with difficulty.

Having made a mistake and forcing the team leader to come to the rescue had already made Kemp feel deeply ashamed. He and Shelley were determined not to drag their feet anymore, even though Bologue had originally planned to save them.

Since throwing the Iron Spear, there were no further gunshots. Bologue didn't believe he had hit the enemy; it was more like the enemy had retreated.

Bologue didn't intend to let the enemy off so easily. Once Yas arrived, he could give his all in this confrontation.

Taking the ether flow goggles out of his pocket, Bologue was unsure of the device's observation distance and precision. In this environment, he wasn't sure to what extent it was effective, but for now, it was his only means of tracking the enemy.

After a brief delay, the goggles presented a vivid hue before Bologue's eyes. There was some imaging delay with the ether flow goggles, but Bologue only needed a rough direction.

A deep blue point of light appeared at the far end of his vision.

Without any hesitation, Bologue sprinted toward the direction of the light point. As he advanced, a strong ether reaction emanated from the other side of the mist.

Bologue knew it was Yas, loudly proclaiming his arrival, similar to firing a gunshot during a robbery. Whoever intended to harm his team members would face his wrath.

Thinking of this, Bologue oddly felt a bit regretful. He actually wished the enemy was more formidable, enough to challenge him. That way, he could witness the combat style of the Origin School's Condensers and personally see Yas's "Silence" and "Prohibition."

It's said that it's one of the rare methods to "kill" the Undead.

Suddenly Bologue's thoughts froze. He felt as if he caught the tail end of a clue, frantically tracing it upwards, but no matter how he tried, he couldn't construct a logical chain.

The Origin School could kill him, as long as they placed him in an absolute ether vacuum, depleting all his ether and Soul Shards...

Bologue quickened his pace. He needed to know who his enemy was.

The King's Secret Sword?

Unlikely, as Bologue had killed everyone on the list but the King of First Seal during the stormy night, unless they had some unknown method of transmitting his information.

The Scarlet Corruption Sect?

Regarding this strange, evil sect, Bologue held little confidence. His chest still bore the mark of a woman's hand, but Bologue thought if the Scarlet Corruption Sect was targeting him, he shouldn't be up against these thugs, and the Ninth Group would certainly be aware.

The situation had become increasingly complex and bizarre, as if another unfamiliar player had entered this chaotic chessboard.

Bologue passed through thick mist and countless twisted buildings, seeing damaged walls and the Iron Spear embedded in the rubble, emitting a faint azure glow stained with traces of blood.

Reaching to touch the Iron Spear, its solid form collapsed, transforming into a swarm of soft snakes crawling back into Bologue's hand.

Judging from the bloodstains left, Bologue had grazed the gunman. It took him by surprise, as when he threw the Iron Spear, he hadn't expected to hit the gunman at all.

It seemed Bologue's talent for throwing things was better than he himself had thought—he hit the gunman even from such a distance without a definite target.

Just at this moment, Bologue noticed a bright glint in the dim light, resembling a metallic tripwire.

This was indeed a tripwire!

In the long war of Scorched Earth Fury, Bologue had dismantled countless of these damned things before. This was a trap; he hadn't hit the gunman at all. The deception was deliberately crafted to mislead him.

In the instant Bologue realized this, violent ether surged beneath his feet. The dense Scale Armor protected Bologue's body, but the anticipated explosion didn't occur. Instead, a dark green mist continuously arose from beneath.

The green mist carried potent corrosiveness. The instant it touched the Scale Armor, the metal seemed to dissolve like in strong acid, tiny bubbles bursting with piercing screeches.

The Scale Armor could withstand explosions but couldn't block the penetration of green mist. Upon contact with flesh, intense pain surged from the skin. Bologue inadvertently inhaled a breath, as if flames seared his respiratory tract, making thick blood and flesh stick together, leaving him unable to breathe.

Fragile eyes met the mist, turning Bologue's sockets into a mess of blood, and his vision slipped into darkness. Gunshots followed, alchemical warheads easily piercing all matter along their path, creating a huge void in Bologue's chest.

At this point, Bologue lost all strength, collapsing onto the ground like a corpse, motionless.

Nearby, in the shadows, Gray, clad in light-dispersing concealment gear, hoisted a sniper rifle, withdrew a short knife from his waist, and cautiously approached Bologue's motionless form.