Chapter 158: Blackscale Citadel

Far from Thule to the entrance of the Agathan Special Force compound, dried leaves with blood on them spun in the slightly warm early afternoon air.

Shadows stretched long from the city toward the Special Force compound, followed by a metal rumbling sound.

Two MRAPs, with black sticky liquid dressing them, dashed at high speed into the parking lot, then halted.

The black sword wrapped around Liu Yan’s back glittered as she stepped down from the first MRAP.

An Lang followed, wiping the sticky liquid off his war discs. “Fuck!” he swung it. “Why is this not coming off?” His chest rose and fell as he stamped on the ground.

Tiny green leaves flew by the closed door and got stuck in the closed edges of the second MRAP.

As soon as the door swung open, the leaves glided on the metal and landed softly on the ground.

Wu Ze stepped out, her long sword screeching across the ground and sending sparks into the air. She exhaled sharply, pressing on the green button on the sword.

The sword instantly transformed into a seven-inch pen. Even after its transformation, the sticky liquid dressed its tip.

Her shoulders stiffened, her jaw tightening with every step she took.

All three of them walked on the pedestrian side of the road, swinging their arms slowly, almost as if the earth would break if they stopped or moved faster.

An Lang became extremely quiet, placing his war discs at his back. For a moment, the butterflies and the moving insects took charge.

An Lang glanced sideways at Wu Ze, then frowned. “Are you still thinking about him?”

Wu Ze stopped abruptly, then threw a sharp stare at him. “Who?”

Without waiting for a second, An Lang stated blatantly, “Bao Xiong.”

The name hung in the air as if it were a curse that wasn’t supposed to be said in broad daylight.

“Why would I think of someone I considered dead a long time ago?” Wu Ze’s jaw tightened, the veins on her forehead stretching.

Her lips moved, but no words came out. She broke free from the trinity formation, then hurried past An Lang and Liu Yan.

An Lang tried following her, but stopped when Liu Yan stretched her hand and grabbed him. “Don’t.”

She shook her head, loosening her grip on him. “She’s already going through a lot. Don’t make it worse for her.”

An Lang stared at Liu Yan for a moment, then drifted his gaze to Wu Ze.

Wu Ze’s steps began to slow as she reached where the water fountain was. She bowed her head slightly, then inhaled deeply, staring at her reflection.

Memories of her father flashed into her eyes, which instantly ignited a smile on her face. But when Bao Xiong’s smiling face and teasing replaced her father’s, she threw a fist into the water.

“This is not the time to think about a dead man.”

Some of the water sprinkled on her boots, and others landed on the paved ground.

She brushed the water off her face as Liu Yan and An Lang closed in on her.

“Is everything okay, Wu Ze?” Liu Yan stretched her right arm onto her shoulder.

Wu Ze’s body shook slightly as an electric bolt snaked through her spine.

Without waiting to answer the question that lingered behind their suddenly pale faces, she dashed forward and went straight into the Madhouse.

An Lang and Liu Yan exchanged pale glances, then turned forward.

The Madhouse door swung open hastily, then began to slow down.

Two men in blue slippery robes stepped down with a wrapped body in their arms. They carried it straight toward the medical building.

At the front of the workshop, Hei Yung and Hei Luo stood there, staring at their reflections in the glass door.

Hei Luo unlocked his arms from his back, then pushed the door open.

Their steps echoed softly, almost faintly, as they entered, as though they weren’t walking but hovering in the air.

Hei Luo tapped on Hei Yung’s shoulder. “I’m going to check on the new personnel that had been stationed here.”

Hei Yung nodded, then turned his gaze toward the vehicles.

He walked toward the center, then stopped. He marveled at the painting that almost seemed to carry the soul of Longwei in it.

His eyes welled up as he focused more on the eyes of the image. ’This is not just an artwork; it carries his soul,’ he whispered in his head, then exhaled once.

“You served well, brother.” The words escaped from him before he could even say them out loud as he brushed his palms across his face.

The last smile he saw on Longwei’s face flashed into Hei Yung’s mind, followed by the beam of light that followed his soul ignition.

When Hei Luo returned, he brushed his palm on Hei Yung’s shoulder. “We need to go and check the newly added vehicles.”

The two went straight to the darker rooms of the workshop, then turned on the light.

The bulbs turned on one after another, and at each section of the stadium-sized room, more vehicles came into view.

They moved swiftly toward the only vehicle that was stationed at the center of the room.

There, standing beneath the triangular titanium war machine, was the Triarch—silent, waiting.

Hei Yung gave a long laugh, clutching his stomach. “He did have good taste for his chosen ones.”

“He sure did.” Hei Luo joined the laugh.

They spent thirty minutes assessing the logical aspect of the craft, then spent another twenty minutes using the virtual machines to do a virtual test flight.

Even with the virtual version of the craft, Hei Luo became so enthused that he wished he were the one to use it.

“Wow, who is this vehicle for then?” He turned to Hei Yung, his eyes glowing with smiles.

Hei Luo’s eyes dulled when he saw the silent stare in Hei Yung’s eyes. “Are you the one?”

Hei Yung shook his head. “No. Andrew Storm’s son is the sole person. The right person to utilize this.”

Silence ruled in the workshop as Hei Yung and Hei Luo walked out. A brittle wind flew by them, the heels of their boots clicking on the ground as they climbed the stairs of the executive building.

The only building that was accessed ten years ago. Blackscale Citadel.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep