The Second Composite Brigade has disappeared?!
A fully equipped mechanized unit of more than 3,700 personnel, complete with light and heavy firepower—how could it possibly vanish without a trace on its way back to its garrison?
This isn’t just shocking; it’s downright inconceivable, utterly beyond reason, and a matter of the utmost gravity!
After a brief moment of shock, Lin Mo forced himself to calm down, seizing on the heart of the issue.
He asked Gu Qiancheng on the other end of the phone in a deep voice, “Have you tried to contact Song Changming directly?”
Upon hearing this, Gu Qiancheng’s voice was tinged with helpless bitterness: “The Dispatch Office just finished their inquiry. I had Zhao Dongyuan immediately try every available channel to reach Song Changming and the brigade command, but…”
He paused, his tone heavy: “All communication requests disappeared into the void, not a single response.”
“When they left Binhai, they took the BHO2 Purge Route. By rights, that route should be relatively safe.”
Gu Qiancheng continued to report what he knew.
“But for some reason, several thousand people just evaporated into thin air.”
“I just sent an emergency recon squad from one of our branches to scout along the BHO2 highway, but so far… no word has come back.”
Hearing this, Lin Mo felt an ever-deepening sense of foreboding in his chest.
As one of the most important mobile strike forces in the provincial capital, Song Changming’s Second Composite Brigade was highly mechanized and incredibly mobile.
By all accounts, even if they were mobilized to the furthest city from the provincial capital, they should absolutely have arrived within forty-eight hours.
But now, three days had passed, and the Second Composite Brigade had not returned to base—worse yet, they were completely out of contact.
This could never be explained away as a mere communication failure or a simple delay.
To know that when Song Changming’s unit went to support Binhai, the journey had taken just three or four hours at most.
Now, it was highly likely that they had encountered some unimaginable catastrophe on the way back—something that could instantly annihilate or trap an entire organized brigade.
Or perhaps… an attack.
With that thought, Lin Mo hesitated no longer and immediately made his decision.
He spoke quickly yet clearly, issuing his orders: “Have Zhao Dongyuan, on behalf of our Binhai branch, urgently contact the provincial capital’s Swordbearer chapter and explain the situation. Tell them to send people to scout ahead along the BHO2 Purge Route!”
He paused briefly and added, “Keep the lines of communication open on your end. If our recon squad finds anything, contact me immediately!”
“Alright,” Gu Qiancheng replied on the other end.
“I was just about to pack up and head back to the North Residence… but now, looks like I won’t be able to go back for a while. Tomorrow I’ll have to report this to Qin Laodeng, sigh—”
Lin Mo replied evenly, “Isn’t this just what you wanted?”
“I really don’t want to go back,” Gu Qiancheng seemed to be walking fast, wind faintly whistling, “but I sure as hell don’t want to work overtime either.”
“Cut it out. I’m hanging up—I’ll pack up and come right over, we’ll talk when I get there.”
“Yeah, hanging up.”
The call ended, and Lin Mo turned to leave.
From start to finish, Chu You had been listening in.
Now, she could no longer care about her earlier embarrassment or confusion.
She hurriedly called out to Lin Mo as he was about to turn away, her tone both concerned and grave: “What’s happened? I heard you on the phone… is it something to do with the mobile force that came to support us?”
Hearing this, Lin Mo paused, turning his head to look at Chu You.
Her face was still tinged with a fading blush.
Her eyes, made watery by recent oxygen deprivation and emotional excitement, shone brightly; and the lips he had kissed so thoroughly, now swollen and red, were particularly eye-catching under the light.
Lin Mo’s heart gave an involuntary little thump.
He was silent for a moment, forcibly suppressing the strange wave of feelings rising again within him, then made his tone return to its work-time seriousness: “Yes. The Second Composite Brigade has gone missing.”
“They left Binhai three days ago to return to their base, but up until now, not a single person has been seen at the garrison—and all communications are completely cut off.”
Chu You’s brows knitted tightly together, instantly aware of the gravity of the problem: “At the speed of a mechanized force, full speed from Binhai to the provincial capital should only take a few hours… but it’s been three days with no word. Something has definitely happened.”
Lin Mo nodded, his expression grim: “We’ve already sent people to search along their return route, but there’s still no news.”
Chu You lifted her gaze to Lin Mo, sharpness in her eyes as she offered her analysis: “…I think this is a little odd. Think about it—if the Second Composite Brigade was ambushed on the way back, given their reaction speed and communication capabilities, they should have had time to notify either Binhai or the provincial capital, or at the very least, send out a distress signal. But they didn’t.”
Here she paused, a heavy look in her eyes: “Unless… whoever or whatever attacked them was so powerful and strange that they lost all ability to act in an instant.”
“Maybe even… wiped out before they could even send a distress call.”
Lin Mo nodded, clearly agreeing with Chu You’s assessment, but then he added, voice muffled, another possibility: “Or perhaps they encountered something we can’t yet understand or imagine—some extraordinary event that instantly cut off or disabled all means of external communication.”
Chu You’s pupils contracted; a thought flashed through her mind and she blurted out: “You mean… a Death Domain?”
“That can’t be ruled out,” Lin Mo said in a low voice.
A so-called Death Domain refers to a phenomenon where, after prolonged exposure to intense Oracle power or extreme contamination, a local spatial magnetic field undergoes violent distortion, leading to a kind of spatial fission event.
It is usually born in the core zone after the death of a powerful Oracle or Aberration, hidden from sight and impossible to observe by conventional means.
The internal space is extremely unstable, the range limited, and the duration unpredictable.
Anyone sucked into a Death Domain is completely cut off from the outside world until the domain is broken through or it dissipates on its own—contact is utterly impossible.
“But…” Lin Mo looked down at Chu You, his tone heavier and tinged with disbelief, “a Death Domain big enough to swallow an entire mechanized force of thousands, plus their equipment…”
Lin Mo didn’t finish his thought, and Chu You’s expression instantly turned grim.
Since becoming an Oracle, she had only ever been caught up in a Death Domain two or three times, each with varying degrees of danger—one time, she had nearly failed to escape.
And according to Swordbearer internal records, the largest confirmed Death Domain in history had only ever swallowed up fifty or sixty people at most.
A Death Domain capable of devouring a whole Composite Brigade—what kind of terrifying concept was that?
“Are you going to the branch office?”
Chu You steadied herself and looked up at Lin Mo, her voice serious.
Lin Mo nodded.
“Yes, I’m leaving now.”
Chu You nodded as well and, taking off the blanket she’d wrapped around herself, said, “Then I’m going with you… If it really is a Death Domain, I probably have more experience than you.”
“Senior, you…”
There was a trace of hesitation between Lin Mo’s brows, a fleeting hint of worry in his eyes.
He’d been lucky. In all his years as a Swordbearer, he’d never encountered a Death Domain event—so what Chu You said was true.
When it came to handling Death Domains, she really did have more experience than he did.
“Enough nonsense, let’s go…” Chu You got out of bed and strode toward the door, shooting Lin Mo a glance over her shoulder and saying, “I’m not a total muggle now, and besides, it might not even be a Death Domain. Two heads are better than one. Stop fussing!”
“And another thing—”
Having stepped into the hallway, she suddenly stopped and turned back, her tone dangerous: “…I’m saving up what you owe me from earlier.”
Lin Mo lifted his eyes slightly to look.
Most of Chu You’s face was hidden in the corridor’s shadow, but the part illuminated by the lamp looked faintly red.
“Mm.”
He responded quietly, lowering his eyes.
Then he hurried to catch up to Chu You, the corners of his lips unconsciously curling up in a small, subtle arc.
If she wanted to save it up, then so be it.
After all, when you’ve got enough lice, you stop itching; owe enough debt, and you stop worrying…
In short—next time, I’ll still dare.