"This is the last one."
Su Sanniang placed a roll of paper tape on the table, her eyes revealing gravity and helplessness.
Lin Jie's gaze lingered on that line of text for a long ti.
The sender was Raven Morgan, located beneath the New York tropolitan Museum.
"In light of the recent series of serious violations and the Red Directive issued by headquarters, the North Arican branch must hereby solemnly declare that we will suspend all unofficial collaborative projects with your side, freeze all associated accounts, and recall all dispatched technical advisors."
"This is a rational decision," Evelyn comnted, looking at the cold text. "Morgan is a shrewd investor. When the risk of an asset far exceeds its potential returns and may even endanger the investor's own safety, cutting losses in ti is the only choice."
"He has to do this," Lin Jie nodded. "If he continues to publicly support us, the next target for the purge will be the North Arican branch. Edison is itching for an excuse to attack him; handing the hawks a knife at this mont would be the most foolish act."
But this telegram did not end there.
At the very end of that statent filled with bureaucratic rhetoric, Morgan left a note in code.
"Watch the weather. A cold front originating from the Alps is moving south, bringing with it a group of gardeners specially tasked with cleaning up rotten branches and leaves. They don't listen to reason, they don't accept explanations, they only handle removal. It is advised to seek shelter before the blizzard arrives. Best wishes."
The cold front referred to the Munich branch located near the Alpine mountains, the stronghold of the hawk faction.
And the "gardeners" referred to those "Internal Investigation Division" inspectors directly subordinate to the Supre Council, possessing independent law enforcent authority and equipped with weapons specialized against hunters.
"He's telling us," Lin Jie said as he rolled up the paper tape and set it afla on a candle. "The pursuers have already set out."
"Gardeners..." Julian's face turned sowhat pale. "I heard about this team when I was in London. They never participate in UMA containnt missions. Their only duty is to deal with those 'out-of-control' Investigators."
"It's said each of them is equipped with magic-suppressing armants that can inhibit spiritual energy flow, and they possess absolute loyalty to the Council."
What an ironic reality this was.
They had just fought a life-and-death battle against that madman trying to create a god in the rainforests of Borneo, all for humanity's survival.
But when they returned to the civilized world covered in wounds, what awaited them were cold shots from behind and shackles.
...
At the sa ti.
Iberian Peninsula, Portugal, Lisbon.
In a basent tavern nad "Voice of Fado" located in the Alfama old town district.
Ricardo Silva, the ace hunter of the Iberian Peninsula with the nickna "The Butcher" within I.A.R.C., was currently sitting alone at a greasy wooden table in a corner, his large hand gently stroking a freshly maintained scimitar on the table.
He was enjoying a rare vacation.
But this tranquility ca to an abrupt end the mont the tavern door was roughly pushed open.
Only six people entered.
They wore uniformly neat dark gray trench coats, black wide-brimd hats on their heads, and silver tal masks covering their faces devoid of any expressive features. Their movents were as uniform as robots stamped from the sa mold.
The clamor in the tavern instantly vanished. Both the drunken sailors and the heavily made-up dancers instinctively sensed the suffocating pressure emanating from these uninvited guests.
Ricardo's movents paused. His eyes swept over the six people, finally settling on the peculiarly shaped, exceptionally thick-barreled specialized short guns connected to steam hoses at their waists.
"Inspectors."
Ricardo spat out the word in a low voice, his hand discreetly reaching for another scimitar hidden under the table.
"Ricardo Silva," the leading silver-masked man spoke. "Number EU-048. According to headquarters Purge Order No. 73, you are charged with suspected involvent with radical organizations."
"Bullshit!"
Ricardo violently overturned the table. The heavy wooden table whistled through the air as it smashed towards the group of gray-clad n.
"I was risking my life for the Association in the jungles of South Arica when you lot were still suckling milk! Want my blades? Then co and get them yourselves!"
His Grotesque Armant nad [Flesh and Blood Wail] instantly activated. A layer of bloodthirsty red light shimred across the surfaces of his twin scimitars, and his entire being charged forward like an enraged bull.
But the group of inspectors showed not the slightest panic.
They uniformly raised their short guns in perfect unison.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The muffled sounds of high-pressure gas release.
Six nets woven from special tal wire shot out from the gun barrels, interweaving into an unavoidable cage within the narrow tavern space.
Ricardo's twin scimitars slashed fiercely against the tal netting, producing crisp clanging sounds of tal on tal.
But he discovered, to his horror, that the red light which usually cut through iron like mud and could even consu life force quickly extinguished upon contact with these net wires.
"Magic suppression..."
Ricardo roared in despair.
Imdiately after, a powerful electric current traveled through the tal netting, coursing through his entire body.
This Butcher who had made countless UMAs tremble in fear twitched and collapsed to the floor under the electric shock.
The leading inspector walked over and heavily stomped on Ricardo's head, pressing his face firmly against the floorboards.
"This is a new era, Mr. Silva."
"In this era, there's no longer any need for undisciplined stray dogs like you. What we need are obedient house dogs, or... dead dogs."
This was not happening only in Lisbon.
In the foggy alleys of London, in the industrial districts of Berlin, even in distant Saint Petersburg.
A great purge targeting all "unstable elents" within the entire Association was unfolding in an extrely efficient and ruthless manner.
Any hunter who had ever shown dissatisfaction towards the hawk or containnt factions, who possessed overly powerful independent ard forces, who might have co into contact with that silent history—all beca targets on this night.
...
Singapore, Guangfu Funeral Parlor.
Lin Jie, of course, did not know what bloody upheavals were occurring on the European continent thousands of kiloters away, but his sharp intuition told him that the ti left for them was running out.
"Evelyn, pack up," Lin Jie issued the order. "Destroy all the equipnt in your workshop that can't be taken with us."
"Julian, go help Su Sanniang transfer the important account books and personnel lists. Since we've turned this place into a battlefield, we can't let the Hongn brothers take the fall for us."
After arranging everything, Lin Jie returned to the main hall.
It was already late at night, but the funeral parlor's main gate was unusually not locked.
Lin Jie sat alone on the threshold, looking out at the empty street outside.
He was waiting.
Sure enough.
When the clock hand pointed to two in the morning, an extrely faint, buzzing sound resembling the vibration of insect wings ca from the shadows at the end of the street.
Lin Jie saw a beetle constructed from chanical gears and clockwork flying erratically over, finally landing on the steps before him.
The beetle's back popped open, revealing a small miniature phonograph cylinder.
Lin Jie wasn't surprised. In this inner world filled with black technology, this thod of ssage delivery wasn't particularly strange.
He reached out and gently wound a clockwork chanism on the beetle's abdon.
"Zzz... zzz..."
After a brief burst of static, a voice processed through a voice changer, impossible to identify as male or female, erged from the tiny speaker.
"It seems you've already received that red gift, Mr. Lin."
The voice carried a trace of long-anticipated composure, mixed with a hint of schadenfreude.
"Before a vast and decaying system, the power of an individual is as insignificant as a grain of sand trying to hold back a flood."
"If you just ca to mock , you can shut up," Lin Jie said coldly, though he knew this was just a recording.
The voice continued.
"The current situation is already quite clear. They want to purge all dissidents, establishing an absolutely centralized, iron-fisted order. In this new order, there is no place for you."
"You and your team are already dead n, unless..."
The voice paused, as if giving Lin Jie ti to think.
"Unless you're willing to accept our protection."
"Avalon is not just a rat society hiding in sewers. We possess an ard force in the South Seas sufficient to oppose the inspector teams, and we also hold the secret passage to that 'true world'."
"With just your nod, we can safely escort you and your friends out of Singapore within half an hour, even out of this locked-down world."
Lin Jie's eyes flickered slightly.
This was indeed an extrely tempting proposal.
In this desperate situation surrounded by enemies on all sides, gaining the protection of such a powerful organization was undoubtedly the best choice for survival.
But Lin Jie did not imdiately agree.
"The price is simple."
The voice beca serious.
"We need sothing from you."
"What we need is... your mories."
"Your mories about 'another world'."
These words struck Lin Jie's heart like a thunderbolt.
He abruptly stood up, [Silencer] appearing in his hand, its tip pointing directly at the still-rotating chanical beetle.
His identity as a transmigrator was his greatest secret, and also his greatest weakness.
Previously, that coolie had only vaguely said he was "soone from the other side of the wall," but now this voice directly ntioned "mories of another world."
This ant they not only knew he was a transmigrator, but might even know how to utilize this identity to achieve so purpose.
"Please don't be agitated, Mr. Lin."
The voice had already anticipated Lin Jie's reaction.
"The reason we know is because you are not the first."
"In the long river of history, the barriers of ti and space are not always impregnable. Occasionally, loopholes like you fall from that dinsion called the 'baseline reality' into our distorted projection world."
"We call people like you—'Travelers from Beyond Ti'."
"And deep within the soul of every Traveler, they carry an extrely special spiritual frequency capable of anchoring the coordinates between reality and illusion."
"That is—[Ti Anchor Point]."
Ti Anchor Point.
This never-before-heard term made Lin Jie feel an inexplicable shudder.
"This world is unstable. It's like a dream that is constantly collapsing."
The voice continued to explain.
"To maintain this dream from shattering, or to break this dream and return to reality, we need an anchor that can fix the coordinates of ti and space."
"And you, are that anchor."
"As long as you join us and cooperate with us in performing the ritual, we can use the anchor point on you to tear open the Veil of this false world, allowing everyone to return to that... real Earth."
"Isn't this what you most desire? To go ho."
This was indeed an irresistible temptation.
Going ho.
Returning to that 21st century with the internet, air conditioning, and peaceful life.
Returning to that world where you didn't struggle on the edge of life and death every day, didn't worry about being eaten by monsters or turned into an experint by madn.
Lin Jie's hand trembled slightly.
His heart experienced a massive wavering in that instant.
Just nod.
Just hand over the mories.
All the suffering would end.
But.
William's face, which had just regained its color, suddenly surfaced in his mind.
Julian's back as he studied ancient texts under the lamp appeared.
Evelyn's focused expression while tinkering with machinery erged.
And Ethan, Marcus, Lily...
If he went back.
If this so-called "false world" was truly torn apart.
Then what about these people?
These living, flesh-and-blood people in this world?
What would happen to them?
Would they disappear along with the shattering of the Veil?
The voice fell silent for a mont before continuing.
"To correct a massive error, to allow the souls of the majority to find liberation, elimination is the optimal solution in accordance with the law of entropy increase in the universe."
"Bullshit."
Lin Jie suddenly cursed.
He raised his foot and stomped down hard.
"Crunch!"
The chanical beetle that was still chattering away was instantly crushed into a pile of scrap tal.
The voice abruptly ceased.
The world returned to quiet.
Lin Jie stood on the steps, breathing heavily in great gasps.
A projection?
False?
To hell with false.
The imnse suffering he had endured was real.
The many adventures he had experienced were real.
The tea on the table that had already gone cold was real.
"I won't hand my mories over to anyone."
Lin Jie said in a low voice to that pile of scrap tal.
He raised his head, looking towards the distant sky that had been completely shrouded by dark clouds.
The situation was already clear.
On one side was the decaying system that wanted to purge him.
On the other side were the radical madn who wanted to use him to destroy the world.
He was caught between two behemoths, like an ant that could be crushed at any mont.
Since that was the case.
Then he would trust no one.
"I only trust myself."
Lin Jie drew [Serene Heart] from his waist, checking the bullets in its cylinder.
"Only the gun in my hand."
"And those standing behind ."
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