The dense fog rolls slowly through the forest, like a surging tide.

A sharp scent of blood spreads along with the mist.

"Bang!"

A dull thud of flesh colliding sounds in the darkness.

Ma Donghe, like a large sandbag, falls heavily into the leaf-covered muddy ground.

His right leg is twisted at an angle, the stark white bone breaking through the camouflage fabric, exposed to the damp and cold air.

"Cough... damn it!"

Ma Donghe struggles to prop up his upper body, spitting out a mouthful of frothy blood.

His copper bell-like eyes glare angrily ahead, filled with defiance.

Less than two meters beside him, Hou Peng kneels on one knee, clutching his right shoulder with his left hand.

There, some sharp weapon had penetrated, blood continuously seeping through his fingers, staining half his body red.

Hou Peng’s chest heaves violently, his wind-catching ears tremble slightly, seemingly seeking a way to flee, his eyes filled with undisguisable despair.

In front of them, stands a tall figure.

The man is dressed in a black trench coat, the tailored hem flapping in the night breeze.

A head full of silver white long hair drapes wildly over his shoulders, flaunting with the wind.

He wears a bizarre bronze mask on his face, its surface engraved with intricate twisted patterns.

Only a pair of extraordinarily bright eyes show, with an indifference that views all beings as ants.

Just behind the silver-haired masked man, Grey Eagle holds a randomly found assault rifle, the muzzle aimed at Ma Donghe on the ground.

"Old Ma, don’t be so shameless. If you don’t confess honestly, I’ll put a bloody hole in your head right now!"

Grey Eagle curses at Ma Donghe venomously, then bends his back with a fawning expression to glance at the masked man:

"The lord is asking you questions, it’s an honor. What’s the origin of that boy Fang Cheng?"

"What level of Boundary-breaking Magical Artifact does he carry to ignore radiation energy and pass through the spatial barrier directly?"

Grey Eagle, scared stiff earlier, now seems like a loyal guard dog, full of arrogance.

Ma Donghe grins, his mouth full of blood, revealing a cold smile:

"Boundary-breaking Magical Artifact? Damn you!"

"A spineless mutt like you, begging for mercy before Ah Cheng earlier, where was your bravado then? Now you’ve found a new master, barking away?"

"Ha-ha-ha— I refuse to tell, what can you do about it?"

After a satisfying rant, Ma Donghe rasps out a laugh.

But laughing too loudly aggravates his broken leg injury, making his features contort painfully.

Grey Eagle, struck where it hurts, his face turns purple-red, his facial muscles twitching slightly.

He glares viciously, suddenly raises the rifle butt, about to smash it onto Ma Donghe’s head.

"Stand down."

A metallic voice issues from beneath the bronze mask.

This voice, processed through a modulator, is very hoarse yet exudes immense pressure.

Grey Eagle shivers at the sound, halting his raised rifle butt in mid-air. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

"Yes, yes, lord."

He promptly withdraws his hands, nodding and bowing as he retreats to the side-rear of the masked man, hardly daring to breathe, behaving like an obedient servant.

For the man before him is the mastermind who recruited Grey Eagle and others to infiltrate the examination site, seeking the relic’s entrance.

The masked man ignores Grey Eagle’s disgraceful behavior.

He takes slow steps forward, the thick soles of his military boots crunching on decaying leaves.

Stopping in front of Ma Donghe, the masked man gazes down at the man struggling to remain upright.

"You’re rather tough."

The masked man’s tone lacks any sign of anger, just the coldness of assessing prey:

"But before absolute strength, tough bones will only make your death more painful, offering no benefit."

While speaking, the masked man raises his gloved right hand, smoothes a crease in the trench coat sleeve, his gaze remaining locked on Ma Donghe:

"I’ll ask one last time, what’s his name, which noble family or organization from Xia Country is he affiliated with?

"Is he carrying the Special Search Team’s latest high-dimensional source energy anchor device, or an ancient relic from the Black Market?

Just as the interrogation ends, Ma Donghe suddenly straightens.

His large head thrusts forward, a sound of thick phlegm rolling in his throat.

Then he spits a mouthful of bloody saliva fiercely at the masked man.

The spit doesn’t touch the trench coat; the masked man tilts his head slightly, avoiding it.

The surrounding air seems to instantly drop to freezing.

Witnessing this, Grey Eagle’s eyes twitch involuntarily.

Though he detests this crude man, he can’t help but admire his courage.

The masked man remains silent for a few seconds, slowly clenching the fingers suspended in mid-air.

The gloves emit a subtle and muffled sound of leather pressing.

He grips his fist, seemingly ready to chastise the bold, audacious fellow who dares to offend him.

"Wait!"

Hou Peng starts, suppressing the severe pain in his shoulder, hurriedly interrupting:

"This... lord, we honestly didn’t lie, really don’t know Fang Cheng’s background!"

Glancing at Hou Peng, the masked man shifts his gaze, showing no warmth in his expression.

Hou Peng swallows hard, explaining rapidly:

"We only met Fang Cheng for a little over two days, we’re just a temporary team at the Special Search Team’s examination site."