·
The next morning, the town of Fox was unusually serene.
The air was crisp, freshly rinsed by the night's rainfall. The grass gleamed greener, the roadside flowers bloomed more brilliantly, and on the balconies and rooftops, potted plants glistened like gems. The reflections of pedestrians under colorful umbrellas shimmered on the wet pavement, giving the sleepy town an almost magical charm.
But beneath this picturesque surface, the town buzzed with whispers.
Two topics dominated every conversation:
The complete annihilation of the town's most powerful gang—the Barbarians.
And the golden beam of light that tore through the night sky.
The epicenter of both events? The Barbarians' manor.
The connection was obvious. And terrifying.
Each would have been the town's biggest headline on its own. Together, they sparked a storm.
At the scene, the once-luxurious manor had been reduced to rubble.
More than a dozen police cars and ambulances surrounded the ruins, their lights flashing dimly through the steady rain. Yellow tape marked the perimeter. Nearly every police officer in town had been mobilized, including the chief, the deputy chief, and the forensic department.
Dozens of officers picked through the wreckage with instruments and cameras, logging what little evidence remained.
The downpour had turned the area into a swamp of blood and mud, slowing down their work. Pools of rainwater ran red. The smell was unbearable.
Standing at the edge of the cordoned zone, the white-haired deputy chief sighed under his umbrella.
"God," he muttered, "I've worked cases for decades... but I've never seen anything like this."
The police chief nodded grimly. "It's unreal."
They had both seen shootouts, arson, and gang warfare. But this?
This was something else entirely.
The entire 4,000-square-meter manor had been shredded. Dozens of corpses lay scattered, some grotesquely pinned to the walls by steel bars. One section of the courtyard looked like it had been hit by a meteor—a 50-meter-wide crater gaped at the center, the stone scorched and crystallized.
That wasn't from guns.
That wasn't from explosives.
"Chief," a senior forensic officer called out as he approached under a dripping umbrella.
He held a handwritten report and removed his glasses as he passed it over.
"What've we got, John?" the police chief asked.
The old man hesitated.
"According to the preliminary examination," John said slowly, "we've recovered 382 bodies from the remains of the manor."
The chief's breath caught.
"Are you joking?" he asked. "Tell me this isn't your 1,000-degree myopia acting up again."
John shook his head. "Steven, you know I don't joke during autopsies."
The director's face turned stone cold.
He looked back toward the crater and the mangled bodies scattered throughout the ruins. His position—his entire career—flashed before his eyes.
Nearly 400 dead.
He didn't even have the words.
More officers gathered, listening as John's apprentice chimed in.
"According to our scans, most of the bodies show trauma from overwhelming impact. We're talking about bones shattered, organs liquefied—nothing intact."
"How... big an impact are we talking?" someone asked.
The apprentice replied calmly, "Equivalent to getting hit by a train... going 400 kilometers per hour."
Hiss—
Everyone drew in a sharp breath.
They glanced again at the mangled limbs and caved-in walls, shivering at the thought.
"What kind of monster could do this?"
"Hell Butcher?" someone offered weakly.
"That's just a movie villain," another officer said. "Even that guy couldn't do this—not wipe out 400 armed gangsters, some with RPGs, without even a scratch left behind."
"It's not our headache anymore anyway," a veteran officer muttered, pointing toward the road. "Looks like the big boys are here."
Eight black SUVs pulled up at the edge of the cordoned zone.
The doors opened with synchronized clicks. A group of twenty detectives in plain clothes stepped out, carrying metallic cases and scanning equipment. They moved like professionals—sharp, focused, and deadly quiet.
At the front of the group walked a tall man in a dark suit and sunglasses, an umbrella shielding him from the rain. His shoes sunk slightly in the mud, but he didn't seem to care.
He flashed a badge at the chief.
"Agent Steven. We're taking over the scene."
The police chief offered a weary smile and shook his hand. "Of course. Let us know if you need anything."
"Appreciate the cooperation." Steven nodded and gestured for his team to begin. Raincoats flared as the agents set up scanners, drones, and portable sensors. In moments, they were combing through the wreckage with efficiency the local police could only envy.
Steven accepted the preliminary forensic report from the police.
He skimmed it quickly.
Not a flicker of surprise crossed his face.
But the chief and his team noticed the absence of emotion. That level of calm wasn't normal. This guy's seen worse, one officer thought grimly. He's not a cop. He's something else.
As Steven handed the report back, he looked up at the team.
"Gentlemen," he said evenly, "I'll need you all to sign non-disclosure agreements by tomorrow morning."
They nodded silently.
They understood.
That Night
The rain grew heavier.
The remnants of the manor had been cleared—debris, bodies, and all. Now, only the crater remained. A wound in the earth.
Steven stood at its edge, wearing a raincoat, hands tucked behind his back. The wind howled around him, but he didn't move.
Below, agents dangled from suspension rigs, scanning the pit's deepest layers.
His communicator beeped.
Beep—beep.
A voice came through.
"Sir, we've confirmed the findings. We've run triple scans. There's no mistake."
"And?"
"We've found traces of Blood Clan DNA at the scene."
Steven's expression didn't change.
"The woman in black?" he asked.
"Yes. Her height, posture, and combat movement patterns were analyzed by our data team. There's no match in Fox Town. She's an outsider."
"Good," Steven said softly. "Keep tracking. We will find her."
He ended the call and stared into the abyss of the pit.
His eyes glinted behind the rain-slick sunglasses.
Something had awakened in Fox Town.
And it wasn't going to stay hidden for long.
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