Chapter 1779 - 915: Good Times

From start to finish, it didn't even last three minutes.

To be precise, not even a single minute.

At the designated positions, the two assault teams used the bank's structural diagram pulled from HQ, compared it with the robbers' locations on the surveillance feed, and immediately followed the original plan, launching a forced breakthrough from both sides.

Only, for some reason, once they squeezed through a blown-open doorway, all signals vanished without a trace.

"Team One, report status, repeat, report status!"

"What about Team Two? Team Two, speak!!!"

No one responded.

The comms channel fell utterly silent, completely cut off.

Out on the plaza, you could vaguely hear gunshots from inside and the roars carried out, shrill screams.

"Ambush! It's an ambush… no, no, that's wrong…"

That sharp voice cut off abruptly, no longer clear.

In the command room, everyone's expression instantly sank as they stared fixedly at the surveillance screen in the corner, only to see… on the monitor, those figures wrapped in headscarves and clutching weapons were still patrolling back and forth, talking loudly as if nothing had happened.

Even the pre-planned breach points were completely intact.

As a result, in the command room, you couldn't even hear breathing.

Only cold sweat slowly seeped from foreheads, snaking down in drops.

The director's expression grew vacant.

Fake!!!

This surveillance feed is fucking all fake!!!

.

Boom!!!

At the very instant the assault units burst into the bank, beyond the opening, in the lobby around the corner, there were no heavily prepared terrorist robbers, no crowd of hostages like in the original footage.

There was only an empty hall, with a dozen paper targets printed with the likeness of the East City Governor standing upright, the human-shaped standees even waving at them, signaling, wearing the Governor's trademark amiable smile.

Immediately after, the Claymore mines hidden behind the planters suddenly detonated, a storm of silver fragments shot sideways, swallowing the entire assault team in an instant, blood spraying.

From behind the walls came a crisp sound, and right after, the automatic cannons finished locking on and roared into rotation.

In the instant the furious belt of rounds erupted, it swept across them from head to toe, tearing through the entire team, screams and wails ringing out.

The distress signals, however, couldn't be sent out at all; at this moment, when they turned back to look behind them, they couldn't even find where the door was…

Something's wrong!

Ruins, who was charging in front with a raised shield, felt his hair stand on end as he sensed the bullets hitting him.

Not just the metallic slurry launched by the earlier Claymore mines—which, aside from wounds, couldn't actually kill— even the cannon fire, when it hit his body, didn't produce any loud impact sounds.

When he lowered his head to look at the deformed round at his feet, he saw no metallic shine…

Rubber bullets?

Fired through thick walls, the bullets that hit their body armor couldn't form any effective piercing at all; they deformed first, absorbing most of the impact.

In the end, filtered through all their gear, the damage was at most fractures or internal bleeding. Under the concussive force and brain trauma, Team Two's members were already collapsing one by one into unconsciousness.

The instant he realized what was happening, his scalp had already gone numb.

He heard the shrill screams coming from Team One's breach side.

A trap!!!

Boom!!!

The thunderous blast rose again—Team One's Chosen One had erupted in a desperate strike—but immediately afterward, all sound vanished; the deathly still bank was like a monster, devouring every living thing inside.

He was drenched in sweat, looking around.

No robbers in sight, no friendlies, not even any hostages.

Only something faint in the air…

Mist?

Only now, after the shock and fear, an irresistible drowsiness surfaced in his consciousness, making him gradually dazed, vacant.

The mist squirmed soundlessly like a living thing, gathering toward him.

Illusions rose before his eyes; he felt as if he were sitting on a sofa, unable to stop himself from relaxing, like being swallowed by slowly warming water.

This is…

A bitter look surfaced on his pale face.

Soul Loss Poison!

The activated fog bred by the Vortex System—seemingly thin mist, but in reality countless parasites that feed on and proliferate by devouring spiritual substance. Though harmless to ordinary people, the richer and larger the target's spiritual reserves, the stronger its reproductive and Erosion effect.

In the enclosed space, these insects, which die off in huge numbers when exposed to light or wind, had long since bred to their peak.

Even with gas masks as a barrier, once they touched skin, they would rapidly drain spiritual power before a Chosen One even sensed it happening…

In his final moment, he only had time to summon the last trace of power within him, petrifying his entire body, barely buying time, preserving himself, waiting for rescue.

Only, in that all-consuming haze, his gaze was drawn to the center of the distant lobby.

On the floor behind the toppled, shattered targets, it looked like someone had stuck down two strips of tape, crossed over one another, right in the center of the hall.

Like a…

X?

.

"Breaking news: we're not receiving any response from inside the bank!"

In the helicopter, the tense-faced host struggled to keep his mouth steady. "Right now, the police raid has very likely failed; the life and death of all assault personnel is unknown… Wait, what's that, hang on!

Camera, hurry, zoom in—zoom the fuck in!!!!"

As he screamed himself hoarse, the blurry image refocused.

At the bank's front door, something suddenly moved—a figure in a headscarf and mask, draped in the cult's garb, stumbled out, dragging a barely alive assault team member in hand. He walked to the doorway, picked up a loudhailer, and seemed to be shouting something.

"Is that a robber?! The robber's out! What is he saying?"

The host's eyes went wide as he held his breath, but over the roaring noise he couldn't hear a thing.

Out on the plaza, though, all the units standing ready heard the voice from the steps, and the people peeking from the corners couldn't help themselves, hurriedly switching their recording devices back on.

Very soon, through all kinds of transmission channels, the voice on the steps entered countless live news feeds, and after professional translation, was delivered to every viewer.

"The bank robbers have now appeared. They claim all tactical team members have become their hostages, and demand that the Federation immediately release Lomona, the Stone Country warlord who was arrested in Central Earth days ago. Otherwise, they'll start executing hostages… The police have already dispatched negotiation experts, let's see what the negotiator is going to—"

The host's words cut off abruptly.

Bang!

On screen, the head of the figure holding the megaphone and shouting nonstop suddenly burst open.

He fell backward, staring at the sky!

"A sniper?!"

The host's voice shook, went off-key: "It's a sniper, the sniper fired!"

The scene was already in total chaos, even the negotiator was stunned, dumbfounded, turning back to look behind him, unable to understand: No, bro, are you out of your mind?!

The command room was even more of a mess.

The director had practically smashed his chair on the floor, roaring: "Who fired?! Who gave the order to fire! I fucking…"

But no matter how they checked and ordered, every sniper at every position had received no firing command, and the spotters all corroborated it: no one had shot.

In the dead silence, up on the steps, the headless corpse had completely lost all breath, only thick blood slowly flowing down along the stairs.

And right at that moment, a soul-shaking rumble came from inside the bank.

The whole East City jolted, sharply!

.

.

Basement Level Two, around the smashed-open floor, under the rubble, iron gleam from the vault.

"The hell is this?" Old Tang, swinging the sledgehammer so hard it was smoking, began doubting life itself: "What do you mean this vault can't be opened?"

"I mean, it can't be opened. From the looks of it, explosives are useless, don't bother hauling any more over."

Ji Jue waved, signaling the others to back off, then bent down, pressing his palm tight to the metal, feeling the spiritual flow circulating inside the vault, eyes lowered:

"As expected, a classic Tongxie product—Kunwu Lock."

Exactly as predicted, this was Tongxie Workshop's flagship Creation, the one that punched its way through every Heavenly Artisan product up and down the Vortex, the very embodiment of brute force beating fancy tricks.

Used on a person, it can lock down every spiritual change in the target, turning their Spirit into stone, unable to transfer or mobilize, completely petrified.

Used on objects, the effect is even more insane.

The Kunwu Lock inside the vault had already activated the moment it detected abnormal impacts.

Numerous Spiritual Circuits and blessings formed a textbook Eight Wind framework, linking up, down, left, right, blending Ruins with Tian Yuan, cutting off every material change.

Once deployed, it takes root on the spot, freezing the entire vault shut, almost impossible to break.

If an emergency occurs, it can even be triggered remotely to endlessly draw on the energy of the Earth Veins.

"Brute forcing it is impossible. They poured way too much stuff into this Kunwu Lock. If it hits its upper limit, it could probably tank a small-yield Fusion Bomb head-on."

Ji Jue shrugged: "Unless we cut it with workshop-grade disassembly tools, we're out of options."

"And the tools?"

Old Tang was dumbstruck, staring at Ji Jue's empty hands and pockets, not getting it: "You actually didn't bring tools?"

Ji Jue spread his hands and asked back: "Why would I?"

You fucking…

Tang Qian's whole soul went crooked; it was like that metaphor every student hears from a teacher—that going to class without a pen is like going to war without a gun. He really had gone to war without a gun before, but you, Ji, this has to be pushing it, right?!

Coming to rob a bank and you don't bring a single tool?

"What, you expecting it to fall out of the sky?"

His answer was Ji Jue's voice.

"Yeah."

He slowly nodded.

The entire bank shook with a thunderous boom.

In a world-shaking upheaval, a cracking roar burst forth…

Up in the sky at ten thousand meters, the underside of a Flying Airship that had just been cleared for takeoff trembled slightly.

A massive iron box, shaped like a coffin, slowly detached from the airship's landing-frame structure.

Like an eagle stepping off a cliff to spread its wings and glide down.

In midair, the iron plates on its outer shell fell away piece by piece, blown off by the wind, exposing an inner structure like an iron pillar.

The front end drooped downward under its own mass, while the tail's guide fins subtly shifted under the control of precision devices, steering its trajectory.

Accelerate! Accelerate! And accelerate again!

Until finally, under condensed gold crystal, the Blessed Creation with a self-weight of over dozens of tons turned into a meteor, flashing once, igniting a fierce light.

And right after…

BOOM!!!!

The Demolition Stake that fell from the sky had already slammed down, wrapped in terrifying gravitational potential, ripping through the brittle building like a hot knife through butter, piercing floor after floor that had been pre-marked…

In the end, it plunged through the excavated floor of Basement Level Two and collided with the vault.

A raging air blast swept out, countless chunks of rubble exploded outward.

Under pure physical impact, that meticulously crafted Demolition Stake rammed straight into the steel, wedging itself together with the entire vault.

And the horrific shockwave storm spread along the vault.

The entire East City Bank groaned, jolted hard, almost beyond bearing.

But what the self-destructing Demolition Stake struck wasn't actually the vault itself, but, through the impact, directly injected its own Spiritual Shock into the deep core of the vault.

Like the metal jet of an Armor-Piercing Bullet, it broke through the outer layers and acted on the Kunwu Lock that had already fused with the Earth Veins.

So the whole East City swayed, like an earthquake.

The Earth Veins trembled, aftershocks rolling on…

"Now we've got our tool. Time to get to work, everyone."

Right then, in Basement Level Two, with the hum of lingering echoes, Ji Jue finally poked his head out from behind the big shield, grinning at the others:

"Good times really do fly by, huh…"