Bin Hai City, Swordbearer Division meeting room.
At the long table, Gu Qiancheng held up a rather peculiar-looking vest, frowning as he inspected it from different angles.
Calling it a vest was a bit of a stretch; it was more like a tactical vest woven from a matte black flexible material, embedded with countless minute crystals and bionic circuit patterns.
There were no conventional fasteners or zippers, only a slightly recessed circular interface located at the chest.
It felt warm and elastic to the touch, yet possessed a hint of metallic coolness.
It was incredibly light, feeling almost weightless.
“Does this thing…” Gu Qiancheng’s voice broke the silence, carrying obvious doubt, “really work? I mean, can it actually simulate the energy ripple characteristics of the environment to fool the Dead Realm’s unreasonable rejection rules?”
He looked up, casting his gaze toward the three people sitting across the table.
The man in the center had broad shoulders, a resolute face, and eyes as steady as stone.
He was the Captain of the Twenty-third Tactical Squad, having traveled through the night from the Provincial Capital headquarters.
Hearing Gu Qiancheng’s question, a trace of an understanding smile appeared on the Captain’s face.
He didn’t answer directly, instead tilting his head slightly toward the two young women beside him.
“You’ll have to ask those two about that.”
The Captain’s voice was deep and powerful, carrying a reassuring stability.
“Yang Yu, Yang Xue, give Officer Gu a detailed introduction.”
They were a pair of twins who looked almost identical, appearing to be in their early twenties.
They wore well-fitted deep blue police special operations uniforms, standing tall with a capable, professional aura.
If not for the tiny tear mole at the corner of one’s left eye and the almost imperceptible streak of ice-blue dyed into the other’s hair, it would have been nearly impossible to tell them apart.
Both possessed the specific focus and calmness characteristic of Law Enforcement Bureau agents, but upon closer inspection, Yang Yu’s eyes were more spirited and lively, while Yang Xue’s were more serene and reserved.
Receiving the signal, the twins shared a glance and nodded in unison.
Yang Yu stepped forward.
Her voice was crisp, her pace deliberate and organized.
“Officer Gu, this Environmental Adaptability Mimicry Combat Suit—Prototype Three was developed as experimental equipment by the Applied Technology Research Institute for Frontier Abnormal Phenomena, which is directly under the General Law Enforcement Bureau. This was done after analyzing data from various sub-space anomalies.”
As she spoke, she took a palm-sized holographic projector from a silver suitcase she had brought with her and activated it on the table.
A soft blue light rose, outlining a three-dimensional structural diagram of the vest in mid-air.
The complex internal energy circuits and the arrangement of those tiny crystals were clearly visible.
Yang Xue took over the explanation, her voice slightly lower than her sister’s but equally clear.
“Its core principle is not deception, but integration.”
She pointed her finger at the crystals in the holographic image.
“These are high-purity environmental memory crystals. They can record and analyze the fundamental energy fluctuation frequencies, pheromone characteristics, and even the rule tendencies of a given space within an incredibly short period. And then…”
At this point, Yang Xue’s finger slid toward the bionic circuit patterns.
“…Through a built-in phase coordinator, it actively adjusts the wearer’s surface energy field and biological information radiation to closely match the background noise of the target environment. This achieves a temporary assimilation effect. Theoretically, as long as the Dead Realm’s rejection rules are based on energy characteristic identification rather than absolute spatial permissions, it can buy us a precious window for entry.”
“Of course,” Yang Yu added, her expression becoming serious, “this is a prototype. It hasn’t undergone large-scale combat testing.”
…
“The effective duration, the adaptability to different intensities of rejection fields, and the potential side effects of continuous use… all these factors remain uncertain.”
“Furthermore, based on energy model calculations from the Research Institute, the mimicry suit may only support a single effective entry.”
“Once you exit, or if the mimicry effect is destroyed by a violent internal rule conflict, the success rate for a second entry will drop drastically.”
“So it’s a one-way ticket that doesn’t even guarantee a seat on the bus,” Gu Qiancheng summarized, his tone neither happy nor angry.
He casually set the vest down and pushed it gently toward Hua Yao, who was sitting to his left.
Hua Yao took the strange vest but didn’t speak immediately.
She closed her eyes and placed both hands softly on its surface.
A faint green light pulsed in her palms as if she were sensing the material and its internal energy pathways.
A few seconds later, she opened her eyes.
A flash of understanding crossed them, followed by deep concern.
“The simulation design of the energy pathways is very sophisticated. The logic is sound.”
Hua Yao spoke slowly, her voice soft yet carrying an undeniable weight.
“The edge of the Dead Realm is currently extremely unstable. It’s like a thin membrane being pulled constantly, threatening to rupture at any moment.”
“Minister Lin, Captain Gao, Du Qiang, and the members of our team… Cough. There are too few people inside.”
“Faced with a historical fault that might be mutating or accelerating, what they can do and the information they can obtain are extremely limited.”
She looked up, her gaze sweeping across everyone in the meeting room.
“If there were absolutely no way, we would just have to wait in agony outside. But now…”
Hua Yao gently patted the vest in her hands.
“The opportunity is right in front of us. Even if there is only a sliver of hope, even if the risk is enormous, we must try, shouldn’t we? We cannot leave them in there to face the unknown alone.”
Her voice wasn’t loud or impassioned, but her unwavering determination and the unspoken bond between comrades made everyone present look even more solemn.
“Seconded,” the Captain of the Twenty-third Squad said with a deep nod, his face showing a sincere expression.
“To be able to coordinate operations with a legendary team like Night Hunt is an honor and a valuable learning experience for the Twenty-third Squad.”
Hearing this…
Gu Qiancheng raised an eyebrow, a slight curve appearing at the corner of his mouth.
“Seconded.”
“However, I have one more question…”
He picked up a vest again, weighing it in his hand.
“By wearing this thing, will it help me… well, alleviate some of the Dead Realm’s suppression of my Oracle?”
Yang Xue answered quickly, “Theoretically, yes.”
“That’s good enough.”
Gu Qiancheng nodded decisively, responding instantly.
He had already decided to go in regardless of whether it helped or not.
As he spoke, his gaze inadvertently drifted toward a relatively quiet corner of the meeting room.
Xia Ji was listening.
However, at the moment Gu Qiancheng’s gaze shifted over, Xia Ji seemed to feel something and looked up at the same time.
Their eyes met.
No words were spoken, and no unnecessary expressions were shared.
The usual cynicism in Gu Qiancheng’s eyes quietly faded away, replaced by a steady, reassuring certainty.
Deep within Xia Ji’s eyes, which were usually like a still well, a very tiny ripple spread.
It was worry, a request, and a trust and understanding that needed no words.
She gave a very slight nod.
Gu Qiancheng tilted his chin imperceptibly in response.
Everything was understood in silence.
“Alright, since the direction is clear, let’s hurry up and finalize the details.”
Gu Qiancheng withdrew his gaze and clapped his hands, pulling everyone’s attention back.
“The number of mimicry suits is limited. The first batch of people to go in must be carefully selected to ensure maximum combat power, adaptability, and mission fitness.”
….
Discussing the specific operational mission took nearly one hour.
It wasn’t until the end that a list of the first batch of support personnel entering the Dead Realm, along with brief justifications, was finally listed on the giant electronic whiteboard:
All members of the Night Hunt team: Tie Jiang, Hua Yao, Qing Luan, Yu Chan, Shadow, and Mongoose.
The Captain and Vice Captain of the Twenty-third Tactical Squad.
The Vice Captain of the Provincial Capital Special Operations Team, Su Tao—a quick-thinking intelligence analysis expert.
Finally, Gu Qiancheng.
“The first batch consists of eight people, and the configuration is relatively complete. After entering, the primary goal is to regroup and then attempt to contact Minister Lin and the others. Simultaneously, Su Tao will prioritize gathering environmental information to evaluate the degree of rule changes and the risk levels inside the Dead Realm.”
Hua Yao tapped the table and summarized in a low voice, “If contact fails or if the situation is found to be far beyond expectations… we have Emergency Plans B and C.”
Mountain added, “We have preset three emergency extraction coordinates at the edge of the Dead Realm, equipped with high-intensity signal generators and simple defensive fortifications. If we encounter irresistible danger, we will attempt to provide support from the outside.”
The discussion of the plans lasted nearly one hour.
Every detail was scrutinized repeatedly, and every possibility was taken into consideration.
By the time the meeting ended, the sky outside had turned completely dark.
Bin Hai City was brightly lit, but it felt as if there were an invisible barrier separating it from the heavy atmosphere inside the underground command center.
Equipment collection, final checks, parameter synchronization with the technical team… everything proceeded in a tense and orderly fashion.
In the underground garage, the engines of three military jeeps had already started, emitting a low roar.
Gu Qiancheng was the last to walk out.
He had already changed into the black mimicry combat suit, with a dark brown leather jacket worn over it.
He was about to walk toward the middle vehicle when a voice called out to him from behind.
“Officer Gu.”
It was Xia Ji.
She had arrived at the garage at some point and was now standing in the shadows of a pillar.
Gu Qiancheng stopped and turned around, his face habitually wearing that relaxed smile.
“What’s wrong, Student Xia?”
Xia Ji walked up to him, standing quite close.
She looked up at him, her lips slightly pursed.
Those eyes that were usually calm and waveless now clearly reflected worry, and even a rare, almost imperceptible sense of anxiety.
She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but then felt that words were hollow.
Ultimately, she whispered in a low voice, one word at a time, at a volume only the two of them could hear, “Make sure to… bring Sister You back.”
Her voice was soft, yet it seemed to carry the weight of a thousand pounds.
The smile on Gu Qiancheng’s face faded slightly, becoming solemn.
He looked into her eyes earnestly and nodded.
“Don’t worry. I will bring your junior back safely.”
Xia Ji seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, but the worry in her eyes did not vanish completely.
She watched Gu Qiancheng turn around and pull open the car door, one foot already stepping inside…
“Officer Gu!”
She suddenly called out again, her voice more urgent and a bit louder than before.
Gu Qiancheng paused and looked back.
He saw Xia Ji bite her lower lip as if she had made some sort of decision.
She suddenly took a step forward and reached out—not to pull his sleeve, but to grab his wrist directly.
Her fingers were cold and trembling slightly, but she held on tight.
Gu Qiancheng’s body stiffened almost imperceptibly.
Xia Ji looked up, her gaze meeting his directly, no longer dodging and no longer calm.
The emotions within were surging; it was an unprecedented seriousness, even a persistent earnestness.
“And yourself…” She spoke one word at a time, her voice clear and firm, as if to ensure every word was etched into his brain.
“Officer Gu, you must also… take care of yourself.”
She paused for a moment, appearing to weigh the most accurate words, and finally said the sentence that had perhaps been circling in her heart for a long time: “Don’t… don’t let yourself fall into irredeemable danger. Come back.”
As the words fell, there was a moment of silence in the garage, broken only by the low roar of the engines and the faint sound of electricity from afar.
The expression on Gu Qiancheng’s face completely froze.
He looked at her face so close to his, saw the undisguised concern and tension in her eyes, and looked at her hand tightly gripping his wrist, her knuckles turning white from the force.
A strange, warm emotion, one that even left him a bit at a loss, quietly brushed against his heart.
But he reacted quickly.
He didn’t pull his hand away, nor did he say any empty words of comfort or promises.
He simply reached out with his other hand, his calloused palm naturally—and even tenderly—lightly ruffling the top of Xia Ji’s head.
The movement was casual, yet it carried an unspoken intimacy and promise.
“I know,” he said softly, his voice more gentle than he realized.
“Even if I run into some troublesome danger, don’t I still have you?”
“I believe you will definitely come to save me… us.”
Having said that, his wrist turned slightly, sliding out of her grip.
He didn’t stay any longer, bending down to get into the car and closing the door.
Through the dark window glass, he took one last look at Xia Ji standing there, her figure appearing a bit thin under the garage lights, and gave her a nod.
The engine let out a low growl, and the vehicle slowly drove out of the garage, merging into the deep night of Bin Hai City.
It sped toward the edge of the Dead Realm on the outskirts of the city, a place under heavy surveillance where energy was surging.
Xia Ji stood in place until the light of the tail lights completely vanished around the corner.
She slowly raised her hand to the top of her head where Gu Qiancheng had just ruffled her hair, then looked at her empty palm, which still seemed to retain the temperature of his wrist and the beating of his pulse.
She gently clenched her fist, turned, and walked back into the brightly lit Division building.
Her back was still straight, but her footsteps seemed to carry a bit more inexpressible weight and anticipation than when she had arrived.