At the same time that the captains successfully entered foreign territory.
Domestically, Dajiang City.
At the exit of an international airport, four people wearing heavy trench coats walked out.
These four moved in an extremely bizarre manner, their walking postures already stiff; from afar, they looked like four corpses, incredibly strange.
After the four walked to an open area, they stopped. One of them took out a phone and looked at it, speaking in a hoarse voice.
“The organization has already confirmed that those captains have arrived. Our actions just happen to be staggered from theirs in timing.”
“Very good.” An old woman nodded. One could faintly see from the inside of her coat that she wore an old, European-style dress.
She turned her head and said to the person beside her, “Tailor, how much longer until your medium is laid out? For this secret infiltration, before we reach headquarters, we cannot casually use supernatural abilities and expose our movements.”
The man called Tailor raised his head. Four ghastly pale threads were surging from his fingers, floating into the distance.
The flesh on his face bulged like thread ends; his entire face seemed sewn together by countless fine threads, looking extremely horrifying.
He opened his mouth and said, “About five minutes. This country is too vast; I need a little time.”
Another old man wearing a monocle spoke, “No need to rush, take it slow. We specifically chose this city to infiltrate precisely so there would be ample time for you to extend your medium over.”
Dajiang City was vast with a sparse population. These four members of the Kings Organization chose to infiltrate the country from here precisely to avoid attracting attention, using the characteristics of their own supernatural abilities to silently enter headquarters and catch headquarters off guard while the captains were all away.
In winter, snow continuously fell from the sky over Dajiang City. There were virtually no people outside the airport—only the occasional car or two passed by, and no one discovered the four’s abnormalities at all.
Yet at a place one kilometer away from the four, it was not snowing. A winding highway coiled through the mountains, its streetlights on both sides dimly illuminating the ground.
On one of the streetlights sat a figure. This person’s attire was extremely characteristic of the region—the kind of local clothing commonly seen in Dajiang City.
Through the dim streetlight, one could faintly make out this person’s face. His ashen-black skin looked like some kind of stone material; his entire body was incomparably stiff. Unlike the dead rigidity of a corpse, this person looked more like a block of stone.
The man held a satellite phone in his hand. Raising his arm, his joints emitted a *kacha* sound of stone grinding. He was just about to speak.
Suddenly, a strong stench of corpses permeated the air. A chill ran down his back. The man was just about to turn when a withered palm suddenly shot out, brushing past his face as it grabbed for the satellite phone in his hand.
The man’s reaction was shockingly fast; he turned and dodged the attacking palm. But right at that moment, a bizarre fine thread whistled through his field of vision, speeding straight for his head.
He abruptly ducked down. The fine thread practically brushed past his hair. The man barely dodged this bizarre thread, but before he could take his next action, intense pain immediately transmitted from his arm.
*Slash—*
A piercing cutting sound rang by his ear. His arm fell to the ground in response, shattering into black chunks like tiny stones. Looking closely, they were actually lumps of meat emanating a fishy stench.
The man clutched his severed arm, a trace of surprise flashing through his eyes.
He looked toward the figure in the shadows not far away and spoke:
“Coming into my territory, you could at least say hello. What’s the meaning of making me lose an arm right off the bat?”
Behind the man, the old woman stared at him and slowly spoke, “Dajiang City Person-in-Charge, Ai Li.”
“You’ve investigated my information quite thoroughly.”
The man, who had already lost one arm, was not panicked; in his heart, he was rapidly assessing the situation before him.
The man codenamed Tailor walked out from the shadows. This person did not seem to want any more nonsense. He stiffly raised his arm, pointing at Ai Li. The strips of flesh on his fingers actually stretched into fine threads that floated through the air, the direction of the attack precisely locking onto Ai Li’s position.
Ai Li’s expression turned cold. With one hand he grabbed toward empty air and actually forcibly tore these gloomy, cold threads apart.
“Again? You opening a restaurant on my hand?”
Tailor ignored him. Instead, he looked toward the old woman and said, “The medium is complete. Those two are already on their way. Leave this place to me.”
The old woman nodded. Reaching out to touch the fine thread beside her, her body immediately seemed to stick to the thread; in a catapulting posture she was dragged by the thread, shooting into the distance.
Ai Li watched the figure of the old woman in the Western dress rapidly disappear. He frowned. That was the direction of Dajing City.
Right now the satellite phone was destroyed, and there was still an enemy blocking his path; he couldn’t afford to be distracted.
“I’m talking to you. Did you leave your vocal cords at home?”
“You really do talk too much nonsense.”
Tailor removed his heavy outer coat. Only then did Ai Li clearly see the person before him.
The entire body was wound from thread-like strips of flesh. These threads as fine as hair were layered upon each other, piecing together the appearance of a foreign man. It looked extremely disgusting.
Through the gaps between the threads, one could see that curled up inside this person’s body was actually a withered corpse. On the back of the withered corpse was a sunken small hole, and these fine threads were precisely surging out from that small hole.
“Can’t drag this out here too long.”
Tailor intended to settle this quickly. Raising his hand, he plunged it into his chest and violently tore at the strips of flesh wound around his heart.
His action seemed to trigger some terrifying medium. At this moment, the sky actually began to drizzle unceasingly.
“Rain?”
Ai Li looked up at the sky.
“No…”
Reaching out to catch what was falling and looking closely, it was actually countless white threads even finer than strands of hair.
Tailor’s body constantly twitched as he continued tearing at the flesh strips on his chest. The withered corpse curled up inside his body actually slowly opened its eyes at this moment. Within the hollow pupils was pitch-black darkness; one could faintly see something squirming inside the corpse.
The threads before his eyes grew denser and denser, already weaving into an airtight curtain of rain.
Ai Li looked coldly at Tailor.
“Can’t let him keep tearing anymore.”
Without any hesitation, he fished out a totem made from a finger from his bag and was about to charge forward.
However, without any warning, Tailor suddenly vanished.
Ai Li immediately sensed something was wrong. He instantly turned around to guard his surroundings. Fine threads already hung all over his body; feeling the slight chill transmitted from the threads, he furrowed his brows tightly.
The ground beneath his feet had already turned into a gray-black gravel road. This was his Ghost Domain, yet at this moment it had no effect whatsoever. The fine threads in the air were wildly pouring down as if they cost nothing.
“Hm?”
He caught a fleeting afterimage in the corner of his eye.
He abruptly turned his head. Within the continuous thread-rain, a terrifying figure flickered in and out of sight. This figure was completely different from Tailor’s build—these threads were actually weaving a ghost!
Ai Li was just about to strike when that figure slowly dissipated once more.
Right at this moment, Ai Li suddenly noticed something.
Raising his hand, he was about to take off his clothes covered in thread ends.
But it was too late. The fine threads on his body instantly tightened. An arm sewn from threads suddenly shot out to choke him.
His neck was clamped tight. Countless thread ends were drilling into his skin, rapidly piercing and sewing. Ai Li felt he was being woven into this continuous thread-rain.
Struggling, he raised his hand and heavily patted Tailor’s arm, seeming to still have something to say.
At this moment, Tailor’s face was completely blank; only countless strips of flesh slowly wriggled. He emitted a hoarse voice and asked, “Any last words?”
Ai Li gasped for breath and said, “Friend… a fight is a fight… give me some air…”
“Courting death!”
He suddenly exerted force with his hands, about to strangle Ai Li to death on the spot.