Returning to the Mysterious Era

Ding!

A metal rod, as thick as a finger, was driven into the ground, sinking about one-third of the way in, while the remaining two-thirds reached about an adult's waist. The black rod was covered in intricate grooves that resembled a thorny vine wrapped around the column.

Along the road, black-clad figures meticulously inserted similar metal rods at regular intervals into the ground. From above, a black, incomplete ritual pattern slowly took shape.

Among them, two sturdy black-clad men were carrying a strange device as they carefully made their way toward the manor's central plaza. Once they got there, they gently set the device down.

It was a metal pillar with a diameter half the size of a person, with dense patterns resembling a piling machine covering its surface. There was a frame around it, with a central drill that could move up and down. From its gleam to its hardness, the drill head was akin to a gemstone.

"Two hundred and nineteen people, a third of them adult males," the curly-haired man said, glancing at the manor's accommodation registry. With a casual rub of his fingers, the entire book disintegrated into a pile of white dust. The next second, the wind scattered the dust across the ground.

"Old Five, is the Demonic Water Ritual ready? Number Two says to hurry up," a voice came from the shadows nearby.

From within the fog emerged a tall, thin figure with a high, straight nose and sporting a black mustache. He appeared to be in his thirties. With his brown eyes gleaming and his mid-length hair tied back in a small ponytail, he had the air of a studio artist.

"I told you, don't call me Old Five; either call me Shockwave or Number Five. Do you like it when people call you Old Four?" the curly-haired man snapped. Annoyed, he whipped around. "And stop rushing me. The placement of each sacrificial blood pillar for the Demonic Water Ritual must be precise, down to the millimeter. If even one is misplaced, the ritual won’t work, or worse," he added coldly, "there could be unforeseen dangers."

"Alright, alright, then be careful. This ritual has to go off without a hitch. We're aiming for a fourth-grade Pure Black Demonic Water Crystal this time. Let's hope we do it on our first try." Despite the casual way in which the man with the mustache shrugged, it couldn't hide the glimmer of hope in his eyes.

The men belonged to an organization called White Skull, an extremist faction within the neo-humans, who believed that humans were nothing but degenerate, obsolete beings—mere swines! They had no regard for life and often thought humans were expendable.

They had carried out numerous terrorist attacks throughout the Hongli Federation in the past, but their main goal was closely connected to the Demonic Water Ritual which they were currently preparing for.

Decades ago, Special Zones exhibiting supernatural phenomena began to appear. Obtaining Pure Black Demonic Water usually required venturing into these Special Zones and finding it through a combination of luck and experience, although most of it was luck.

However, the White Skull was different. They had mastered a dark, secret method which allowed them to harvest human beings' life force through a grand ritual by slaughtering humans within the radius of the numerous sacrificial blood pillars. In that way, the Pure Black Demonic Water from the Special Zones would be continuously drawn toward them, forming a highly concentrated spring.

"If nothing goes wrong, we have a pretty high chance of succeeding," Number Five said, glancing at the plaza where two or three men were adjusting the largest pillar. They made minute adjustments to ensure the ritual would proceed without a problem.

"Nothing going wrong? Heh, of course, something will happen." Number Four rubbed his chin, eyes narrowed.

"Are you talking about those annoying flies? Heh… All we did was kill a few pigs, and yet they refused to leave us alone. They're neo-humans but choose to mingle with humans, which only goes to show just how low they have stooped." Number Five then realized what Number Four meant when he said "something."

Number Four shook his head silently. "There are some experts in the Silver Organization, like Silver Gun Soro. He had something to do with Number Six's death from three months ago. Maybe he was the one who killed him."

"Didn't we have him surrounded at the time? If Soro was the main culprit, then he's at least a Class A neo-human. In a one-on-one fight, he's likely a Class A+!" Number Five said, his brow furrowing deeply.

The White Skull had ten captains in total, numbered One through Ten, the latter was the weakest, classified as Class B+ for neo-humans. Despite this, he still held a captain's position due to his powerful support abilities.

The remaining nine captains were all Class A neo-humans, ranging from A- to A+. The sixth captain had already reached Class A with formidable combat prowess and yet perished during a solo mission three months ago.

White Skull had dispatched three captains—Number Two, Four, and Five, whose combat skills made them highly ranked—for the current Anta Mountains' mission. This showed just how crucial this mission was to them.

The three combat captains' involvement was also a result of the event three months ago. Silver Organization and White Skull were polar opposites; one aligned with humanity and the other was in vehement opposition.

Across the globe, the Silver Organization and White Skull had been entangled in conflict for years, with White Skull holding the upper hand. However, Silver Organization's fortunes had changed in the past year with the emergence of a powerful neo-human known as Silver Gun Soro, who had vast combat experience.

The surprise adversary had dealt a severe blow to White Skull three months ago when he killed their sixth captain, and consequently their mission.

Thus, White Skull was even more cautious with their mission in Anta Mountains, wary that Silver Organization might be lurking and was just biding their time.

Number Five glanced at the skull dial on his wrist. The black hour hand pointed sharply to ten. "It's now ten o'clock. The Demonic Water Ritual must begin in half an hour. I'm leaving the rest in your hands."

On the other side, outside the estate and amidst the mist, Ro, Ali, and Anna were making their way cautiously toward Blue Star Manor. Though their vision was obstructed by the fog, the cement road ahead remained clear and led straight to the manor's side gate.

"Whew… We're almost there." Ali, the red-haired boy, let out a sigh of relief. He could already see the wrought iron gate of Blue Star Manor.

Beside him, the girl in the white dress, Anna, kept glancing nervously at the fog behind them like a frightened deer. After what had just happened, who could say if a steam golem would suddenly appear from the mist?

Ro, the green-eyed boy who stood at the back, was the calmest among the three. Though his expression was slightly tense, he carefully and regularly scanned the surroundings. He wasn't as naïve as Ali, nor as scared as Anna. The boy had a decent level of mental fortitude.

A series of footsteps gradually approached the direction of the manor. Suddenly, a deep male voice came from beside them in the mist. "Where did these brats come from?"

"Doesn't matter, just kill them."

Another voice responded, "Wait, these three don't seem like ordinary humans."

"Oh?"

Three figures, clad in high-quality black combat suits, with their wrists and ankles snugly wrapped, emerged from the bushes on both sides of the walkway. A white, ping-pong-sized clock symbol stood out sharply against the black sleeves. Each of them wore a sinister skull watch on their wrists.

The sight of the three figures terrified Ali, Ro, and Anna, freezing them in place as cold sweat dripped down their backs. They didn't know who those people were, but they could sense their malicious intent.

"Neo-humans. What do we do?"

"What do you mean, what do we do? We kill them, of course. Did you forget the captain's orders? Kill everyone approaching the manor!"

The White Skull members' brief exchange was over in a second. They turned their gaze toward the three petrified teens, eyes wolf-like, and began to advance in large strides. One of them transformed on the spot into a hulking, muscle-bound half-beast. Another removed his glasses, revealing a completely black right eye. The third's right arm twisted grotesquely, a black arm growing out of a tumor that burst open just as quickly as it formed.

"We're done for. We're so dead." Ali's face was ashen with fear as he mumbled to himself.

The three of them had only recently awakened their neo-human abilities, while the three before them were clearly seasoned experts with savage appearances and a bloodthirsty, terrifying aura.

"Don't panic. There's still hope," Ro said, trying to remain calm. However, the tremor in his voice could not hide his inner turmoil. His green eyes narrowed, eagle-like in their intensity.

A strange ripple passed through the air, and in a hazy instant, it enveloped the three approaching figures.

"An illusion? A rare psychokinesis ability, but much too weak," said the man with the pitch-black right eye, his tone indifferent.

In the next second, there was a faint sound as if something had shattered in the air. Ro groaned softly and closed his eyes as blood trickled from their corners.

"Ah!" Anna screamed beside him.

It turned out that the three White Skull members had already charged forward. Leading the attack was the bald man with three arms, his grotesque black, scaly right arm slashed out.

"Die!"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

In an instant, three gunshots rang out.

Three bursts of blood exploded in midair, the blood in the mist rapidly dispersing. The three White Skull members were thrown back violently.

"Ahhh!!!" On the ground, the half-beast lay howling in pain, his body severed at the waist. His intestines spilled out gruesomely, and his blood drenched both his fur and the ground around him. The bald man with three arms let out a guttural groan, his poisonous dark arm shattered. The supposedly impenetrable scales had been utterly ineffective! The last one couldn't even utter a sound. He collapsed to the ground like a corpse, his body convulsing as blood poured from his chest.

"Who is it!" the bald man, who had suffered the least injury but was still, nonetheless, in pain, shouted.

Tap, tap, tap…

Footsteps echoed through the mist and a figure appeared before everyone. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, a tight-fitting, multi-pocketed cowboy shirt, and a brown leather jacket. A gun holster hung at his waist while tall leather boots adorned his feet. A vividly colored neckerchief completed his cowboy-straight-out-of-the-Wild-West look. He held a silver revolver, smoke still faintly wisping upward.

"Silver Gun Soro?!"

The bald man’s pupils contracted. He had seen Soro's picture before. Three months ago, the death of their organization's sixth captain was closely linked to this very same man. Most of the organization’s captains were Class A neo-humans so by that logic, Silver Gun Soro must be, at least, a powerful Class A neo-human.

"Ro, Ali, what are you doing here in the Anta Mountains? Didn't I tell you to stay away from this place?" There was a hint of reprimand in Soro's voice. He adjusted his aim before firing off three shots. Three bangs and the three enemies lying on the ground were dead.

His revolver was absurdly powerful and was unlike an ordinary handgun. The bullets fired from its barrel exploded upon impact, causing devastating damage. It shouldn't even be called a revolver; it would be more fitting to call it a hand cannon.

"Uncle Soro." Terrified, Anna was on the verge of tears.

"Ah…" Soro sighed. "It's alright now. This place is too dangerous. Let me get you to safety first."

"Okay." The three of them nodded in agreement.

A sinister laugh echoed. "Heh heh heh… You think you can just leave after killing my men?"

A black shadow rushed forward, instantly blocking Soro and the others' path. It was a tall, thin man with a mustache, and a long weapon strapped to his back. Soro halted, narrowing his eyes.

"Number Four of the White Skull Organization, Battle Axe Kuey Gang?"

"Heh heh, the Silver Organization came, just as I thought. You people are just like pesky flies. Where are the others? I'm sure you didn't come alone, Silver Gun Soro." Number Four's eyes burned with killing intent.

"If it's just you I’m dealing with, I am more than enough," Soro said, lightly brushing his gun. In an instant, the silver revolver turned a brilliant gold, with a wing-shaped emblem at the rear of the barrel.

"Such arrogance!" No sooner had Number Four finished speaking, his voice lowered into a roar. A violent surge of energy erupted from within and spread out in all directions. Number Four's body suddenly expanded, his muscles bulging inch by inch as his clothes tore apart, revealing a bluish-purple body.

At that moment, he resembled a towering fortress, standing two and a half meters tall. His powerful beast blood continuously strengthened him, causing the veins under his skin to pulse vigorously. Looking up, his snarling dog-like head let out a ferocious growl.

Clang!

The massive long-handled battle axe behind him was now firmly in his grasp.

"Soro, your death has come!"

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