Nightmare’s Call

Chapter 165: Like: Part 2

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

An irritating ring of the phone went off beside Stitz. Immediately, a communication officer hurriedly answered the call. Following a series of Morse code tapping, a secret message was decoded in writings before being placed before Stitz.

“Huh? The Ironfist Society had gathered a hundred men, killed two Darksiders and apprehended the others near the harbor?” Stitz frowned upon reading the message. “Did they learn it from the Yinlan Chamber of Commerce? Mass strike here and arrests there. Some police officers have been murdered in Jyr too.”

“You sound like full of confidence.” Elba stood up. “In that case, I will leave the Yinlan Chamber of Commerce to you. Coincidentally, the Starfury Clan has also gone to Huaisha. Since I’m idle, I might as well go to check them out.”

“But, Minister…”

“It’s okay. I know when to play a weak hand. If it comes out nothing, I will find a way to get my hands on the cultivation system and bring it back to study it slowly. After all, I have time.” Elba took her cloak down from the clothes stand and stroke out of the office.

“Minister, what about the Heart of the Ocean?” Stitz was wide-eyed.

“It’s your call!”

…..

Borel, the guy with an ‘X’ scar on his face, stood at the window peeking out from behind the curtain, looking at the entrance of the Ironfist Society, which was just on the opposite side of the street. He had been waiting for two hours to kill all the leading figures of the Ironfist Society. And if that was not possible, then he would make do with just Lin Sheng. But when he peeked out of the window, he saw something weird going on.

The entrance of the Ironfist Society was wide open as groups of disciples came out and lined up in two columns. Their faces were not only solemn and in veneration, but also appeared a little nervous. It was hard to believe that these twenty or so people, standing upright with hands behind them, had an identical expression on their faces. The last person coming out from the premise was Sarroux, who was followed by Lin Sheng. As the president of Ironfist Society, it was weird that Lin Sheng also wore the society uniform just like the others. He was seen standing slightly in front of Sarroux and quietly waiting with his head low.

The winter wind was freezing but nobody made a sound. It was solemn atmosphere. Ten minutes had passed. Twenty. And then an hour. Borel had been standing behind the window for over an hour. He could have acted long ago, but he did not because he was curious about whom these people were waiting for and who could make the president wait outside the door.

Borel was not in a hurried, though, as he had all the time with him. He was determined to find out what these people were up to before he acted.

Time flowed quickly. The unforgiving weather was keeping people off the streets. Otherwise, there would have been curious crowd by now. Ever since the arrival of the Redwin army, the residents did not come out of their houses unless it was necessary. Even when people walked past occasionally, they always covered their faces and kept their head low, as if they did not want to be identified because the scouters of the Defense Affairs Division were lingering in the surroundings. These scouters were now seen taking photographs of Lin Sheng and the others.

Hidden away and not so obvious were pairs of curious eyes peeking out from behind the windows nearby. People were observing the situation outside, just like Borel did. The Ironfist Society had risen to fame and become the top martial art school in Huaisha after the battle of the mantis. People had heard that the society had had a brush with police officers near the harbor. With these people assembling outside, something must be happening.

Soon, another twenty minutes had passed. Just when Borel was about to lose his patience, a black vehicle, not particularly expensive but still brand new and clean, slowly pulled up in front of the Ironfist Society. Just when the vehicle ground to halt, a pale-faced, female disciple of the Ironfist Society quickly stepped forward to open the door for the rear passenger. An outlandishly white, small-sized boot that fit only the foot of a child with the pattern of a weird bird on the side, stepped out of the car onto the concrete pavement. As the person emerged, it turned out to be a young boy who had a gentle smile on his smooth and sophisticated face with eyes looking at Lin Sheng, who stood at the front of the waiting congregation.

“Here we meet again, my beloved Lin.”

“I’m now the president of the Huaisha branch. We have been expecting you, Khadula, our emissary!” Lin Sheng stepped forward to shake Khadula’s hands, looking emotionally.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” Khadula said with a smile.

“Not at all. Please come in.”

In the hotel, when Borel saw the young boy with a smooth face followed Lin Sheng into the Ironfist Society, he frowned. “Who is he? I’ve never seen him before.” Standing from a great distance, Borel could not hear about what the two were talking. But judging from their interactions, it was apparent that Lin Sheng and the young boy were close.

“Never mind. They are all going to die today anyway.” Borel lowered his head and lit a cigarette in his mouth before nonchalantly taking out a white remote-control device that blinked in red light from his pocket. Earlier, he had quietly rigged the entire building of the Ironfist Society with miniature high explosives, powerful enough to level an entire structure. With this kind of bombs, not even a suppressive-level Four Winger could survive the blast. He was ready to kill everyone in the building and collect the souls. Taking one last glance of the building of Ironfist Society, Borel then reached to press the deadly red button.

“I like your hands.” A kiddish voice suddenly spoke behind him.

Borel was startled for a split second before he scrambled to press the detonation button. At the same time, a translucent figure with long hair, shimmering in eerily green light, appeared beside him, blocking the white hand that stretched out at him suddenly. The green light was agitated and rippling outward.

A powerful shockwave was sent from the white hand through Borel’s body, causing him to lose grip of the remote control and dropped it on the floor. He did not pick it up but turn to look at the unsolicited guest, the sophisticated young boy who came to the Ironfist Society just now. The young boy was half the height of Borel, but his amethyst-like eyes gave him an intriguing glance. “Don’t play with dangerous stuff,” the young boy said, smiling at Borel.

Borel put out his cigarette and tossed it away. “How did you find me?”

“My name is Khadula. What’s yours?” The young boy ignored Borel’s question.

“Me? Borel.” Borel answered wryly, the ‘X’ scar on his face shimmering in a blood-red glow. This happened when his dark energy was fully activated.

“You haven’t answered my question. How did you find me?” Borel asked again.

“It was simple.” Khadula titled his head and lifted his little hand. “Just like this.”

Borel’s pupils contracted, and cold sweat started to trickle down his forehead. Immediately, he turned and lunged at the window.

In that instant, starting from the bottom, the outer wall of the hotel began to etiolate as thousands of white hands crept out from the ground, wrapping up the hotel in a sea of hands. The hotel building seemed to have been dyed in a layer of ashen-white color when looking from a distance when actually, it was covered by countless of squirming and crawling hands.

But strangely, no one in the streets seemed to notice this phenomenon. People just walked past as usual without raising an eyebrow.