Finally, when he typed the last character and pressed the Enter key, the evaluation template on the page vanished instantly, and the Libra reappeared at the center of the screen.
One end of the Libra—the side with the little corpse—began to slowly sink, as if being crushed by an invisible force.
On the other end, a brilliant golden number suddenly appeared, leaping from the shadows, hanging in mid-air, flickering with blinding brilliance.
Imdiately, the screen switched again, and a transfer window popped up.
The background of the window was simple this ti, resembling a bank transfer window, with the number just shown in the center, and below was a blank space for entering transfer information.
Lou Duan, expressionless, entered the account information and confird the transfer.
The scarlet eyes on the screen slowly closed and eventually disappeared, as if they had never appeared.
The page returned to pitch black, and a line of blood-red text slowly erged:
"Weigh-in complete, transaction valid, goods will be processed within seven working days."
[Clown]: Any other requests?
Lou Duan pinched the bridge of his nose, fingers tapping on the keyboard with a crisp sound.
When it’s ti to cut: Seven working days is too long, I hope it can be done faster. Also, I want it to look like an accident.
[Clown]: Zone 9 is remote, getting there takes ti, and your additional request is troubleso.
Lou Duan’s gaze turned slightly cold, fingers paused on the keyboard for a mont, then he typed a line:
When it’s ti to cut: So you can’t do it?
[Clown]: It’ll cost more!!!
...
The lights sprinkled over Upper City were like a massive web, covering Lower City as it awakened from its slumber.
In a dilapidated apartnt building in Zone 9, dust settled like a fine hourglass in the stairwell, each step covered in gray.
Graffiti thrived on the walls, each stroke of color scorching the eyes.
The paintings were wild and chaotic, colors swirling like nightmarish invasions, with irregular lines and abstract patterns assaulting human visual nerves, giving a slight sense of dizziness.
They seed to carry a certain malice, causing viewers to instinctively avert their gaze, avoiding the unsettling hues and composition.
However, hidden deep within these colors, perfectly camouflaged surveillance caras watched every stranger entering this place silently with their cold lenses.
Everyone entering here would be fully captured by caras and infrared scans, with any anomalies causing the corridor walls to collapse within half a second, emitting multicolored Venom, raining death.
On the top floor, the windows were draped like a sealed coffin with heavy black curtains, allowing not a sliver of light to penetrate.
Inside, the light was dim and gloomy, like the flicker of a dying breath, and the air was filled with a nauseating mixture—the sll of old tobacco, uncoagulated blood, and the acrid rust of tal decay.
A bald man leaned against a broken sofa, its leather cracked, revealing yellowed stuffing within.
He held a fistful of varying-length hair in his hands.
He slowly brought the hair to his mouth, a strange satisfaction appearing on his face.
As he chewed the hair, his eyes were vacant, as if he were chewing not on food but on the mories flowing within the strands.
Beside him, a scrawny team mber was wiping a pistol with a bloodstained cloth, his eyes hollow, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.
Every ti he finished wiping a bullet, he muttered to himself in a hoarse, eerie voice, as if conversing with so invisible presence.
In the center of the room, a woman crouched on the floor, poised like a beast ready to pounce.
She held a sharp little knife, the blade black and glinting with a cold gleam, like a viper’s scales in the dim light.
At her feet lay a deford Calamity Corpse, blood oozing from the cuts, winding into dark red traces and soaking the ground.
The woman cut her prey with precision, each slash of the knife flawless.
A bespectacled technician sat at the other end of the room, buried in a heap of circuit boards and parts’ ruins.
His glasses reflected the computer screen’s cold light, eyes behind them focused like chanical devices.
His fingers, like bizarre tentacles, road over a wireless jamr’s circuit board, soldering, adjusting, assembling, movents flowing like water.
He humd a disjointed tune, the lody fragnted and irregular, evoking inexplicable drowsiness.
Suddenly, a new email popped up on his laptop screen, with a Libra logo in the middle of it.
The technician casually opened the email, glancing indifferently, but when his eyes landed on the three nas on the [Delivery Order], his pupils contracted sharply, fingers froze on the mouse.
His expression froze for a mont, then a subtle expression appeared on his lips.
"Isn’t this... the fool who tried negotiating with us?"
The technician, as if seeing sothing amusing, couldn’t help but laugh:
"Captain, we’ve got a new task from above."
"What’s to be happy about getting a task? Even cattle need to catch their breath, don’t you get tired?" The woman lost her appetite for at, ending her al with a slice.
It was a distorted Calamity Corpse, its twisted head finally ceased twitching, the eerie eyes exuding a glow of relief, as if grateful for this sudden end.
Its ribs flared grotesquely, bloodily brutal, the whole chest cavity almost stripped clean, an empty remnant as if after a ritual sacrifice.
The technician chuckled, holding the laptop as he briskly walked over to the captain:
"Captain, take a look at the nas on the [Delivery Order], don’t they look familiar?"
The bald man licked the brain matter off his fingers, his eyes scanning indifferently, then he blinked, grinning to reveal jagged black teeth:
"What a perfect coincidence, isn’t it?!!"
The other team mbers stopped their tasks upon hearing, gathered around, and soon, a knowing eerie laughter echoed through the room.
"Interesting."
"Since our Team 103 was ford, this is the first ti we’ve encountered sothing like this, huh huh—"
"It’s not a coincidence; Destiny watches everything beneath its gaze..."
The bald man licked his lips, clasping his fist to his chest with an unsettling fervor, adding:
"This is Destiny’s arrangent!"
As the words fell, the room fell silent for a mont, all standing solemn instantly.
Fervor appeared on their faces, almost instinctively, their fists rested on their chests, eyes blazing like flas.
"Red Dragonfly, in the future, don’t let hear your complaints, each order sent from above is a gift from Destiny, understood?"
The woman’s expression turned serious, nodding heavily before asking:
"Understood, so how do we handle this order?"
The bald man’s face lightened slightly, grinning, full of uneven black teeth, he said coldly:
"Of course: For Destiny, offer death."
The team mbers lowered their voices simultaneously, repeating in unison:
"For Destiny, offer death!"
Only then did the bald man slowly reach out, pointing at the familiar na, and said softly:
"Since it’s a delightful surprise gifted by Destiny, let’s save him for last... the last is always the most delicious!!!"
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