When the Grandmaster was enraged, the temperature in the hospital room seed to drop several degrees.
An oppressive silence descended upon the room, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the machines, tapping against everyone’s taut nerves.
The madness and threat of Creation Technology.
Once again, so blatantly, bloodily laid before everyone, so heavy it was suffocating.
At that mont, Lin Kang’s gaze turned to Fang Qingyu, carrying an undeniable aning: "Qingzi."
Fang Qingyu looked up at him.
"Tomorrow," Lin Kang’s voice was low, yet clear and forceful, "for the mourning and promotion ceremony, you will push down."
Fang Qingyu was slightly startled.
Push him down?
This is usually done by soone very close or dear.
He instinctively wanted to speak, suggesting Duan would be more suitable...
But Lin Kang didn’t give him the chance; his hand, wrapped in bandages with distinct knuckles, carried an irresistible power as it heavily patted twice on Fang Qingyu’s hand resting on the bedside through the quilt.
"Take it." Still the sa concise two words.
Lowering his head, Fang Qingyu then discovered that, at so point, a thin booklet with a cover wrapped in a dark blue antique fabric, devoid of any inscription, had been tucked into his hand by Lin Kang.
The booklet was slightly heavy, carrying an aura of years past.
Fang Qingyu held the booklet, feeling the pressure of Lin Kang’s pat on the back of his hand, looked into the other’s eyes, and finally just nodded: "Alright."
On the following day, clouds hung low, and a fine rain fell like silk.
Qingjian City Divine Managent Bureau Building.
Underground, on the fifth sublevel.
This was not a floor in the conventional sense, but a huge space ford by hollowing out a mountain and reinforcing it with high-strength alloy and special force fields.
Usually deserted and silent, it was only activated for mourning the fallen and for major rit ceremonies.
At this mont, the conference room was at the pinnacle of solemnity.
The air was as heavy as congealed rcury, carrying a deep-seated sense of sternness and grief.
A low, seemingly ancient mourning music flowed slowly in the vast space.
Below, a dense sea of people stood.
All active personnel from Qingjian Branch, including logistics, clerical, research staff, were present without exception.
Everyone was dressed in the most formal dark uniforms, with black armbands and simple white flowers pinned to their chests. No one talked, no one moved, and even breathing was deliberately lightened.
Only an oppressive silence prevails.
In the front row were the mbers of the fallen’s squad.
Fenghuo Squad’s spot was nearly half empty, with the remaining mbers standing rigidly, red-eyed, clenching their teeth to keep tears from falling.
Panshi, Sharp Blade, Iron Wall...
Every squad that had participated in the outer defensive and underground assaults had mbers who stayed forever in those ruins and insect nests.
Sorrow spread silently through the ranks like tangible waves.
Fang Qingyu, pushing Lin Kang’s wheelchair, stood at the forefront of the lineup, near the ceremony podium.
Jiang Wei quietly stood beside Fang Qingyu.
Her small figure seed sowhat out of place in the solemn crowd.
She, too, wore a simple black dress today, with no snacks in her hands, only slightly lifting her face, and her clear gaze looked quietly ahead.
The ceremony’s process was simple yet heavy.
Director Wu Yu of the Divine Managent Bureau gave a speech, his voice low and hoarse, full of sorrow and strength, reflecting on the bravery of those sacrificed and reaffirming the resolve to combat the Life Ghost, to protect the holand.
Grandmaster Chen Wenshan paid his respects on behalf of the Martial Arts Realm, with only a few words, each carrying trendous weight, edged with the unique intimidation and comfort of a Grandmaster.
Followed by a long silence, in mourning.
Throughout, Fang Qingyu’s hand on the wheelchair remained as steady as a rock.
Upon the end of silence, the mourning music ceased.
After a brief stillness, the beam overhead intensified abruptly, converging on the center of the ceremony platform.
A dignified officer in a sharp uniform approached the podium, holding a light screen.
"Next, the rit promotion ceremony begins!" The officer’s voice, amplified, echoed clearly in every corner of the eting room.
All eyes instantly focused.
"Based on Qingjian City Divine Managent Bureau’s application, reviewed and approved by Shangjing Headquarters, the following personnel is hereby promoted." The officer’s voice was steady and powerful, "Fang Qingyu!"
The beam imdiately spotlighted Fang Qingyu.
His expression remained calm as he released the wheelchair handle and moved forward, standing beneath the beam.
Countless complex and indescribable gazes fell upon him.
"Team mber Fang Qingyu, during this ’Abyssal Weaver of Fate’ super-large Life Ghost event, in the core battlefield beneath Central Park’s underground nest, displayed courage and decisiveness amidst peril, successfully rescuing the heavily injured and trapped Sharp Blade Team Leader Lin Kang, and in collaborative action, made significant contributions to the ultimate slaying of the Profound Tier peak mother beast, ’Abyssal Weaver of Fate’. rit resounding, verified promotion from ’Candlelight’ level rit to ’Morning Star’ level!"
The officer’s voice carried a kind of penetrating force.
"Morning Star" level!
A restrained gasp arose from the audience.
Candlelight is already a comndable honor for any Martial Artist, yet Morning Star is exceedingly rare!
This ans Fang Qingyu’s na will truly enter the highest echelons of the Divine Managent Bureau’s sight.
His authority, resource allocation will undergo a qualitative leap!
The weekly allotnt of Qi Blood Crystals also doubles that of Candlelight level!
However, under this dazzling halo, Fang Qingyu’s expression remained unchanged.
Calmly, he accepted the badge, feeling the tal’s coolness on his fingertips.
No excitent, no joy, he slightly nodded in acknowledgnt, movents brief and neat, then turned to return behind the wheelchair, casually pocketing the badge.
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