True Apocalypse Game

Kavan shot to his feet as if he’d been electrocuted. Standing bolt upright, he took a deep breath, brushed off his clothes, and told his men,

"I’ll get the door."

He strode nimbly to the door and opened it gently.

To his disappointment, however, it wasn’t the Commander who appeared, but rather two of his men responsible for guarding the hallway.

"What is it?" Kavan asked, frowning.

"Sir, someone... is here to see you." The guard’s face was a picture of bewilderment.

The stranger who had suddenly appeared was as silent as a ghost. They hadn’t seen so much as a shadow, and even the surveillance cameras had failed to capture an image, yet there the person was, standing right among them.

If Kavan hadn’t previously instructed them to immediately bring over any stranger requesting an audience, they might have already opened fire.

As he spoke, the two guards stepped aside in unison, revealing a person behind them.

This person was wrapped in a silver robe, showing only their eyes. They nodded to Kavan, held out both hands to show they were unarmed, and strode into the room.

Kavan froze for a moment, then asked,

"Is... is it you?"

Just then, his phone buzzed. Kavan glanced down and saw a new message from the True Apocalypse Game:

"It’s me."

’It’s the Commander!’

’The Commander really came in person!?’

He hurried over to the figure, guided them to the operating table in the middle of the living room, and said,

"Everything has been arranged according to your instructions."

The figure nodded, casting an appreciative glance at Kavan, then spoke in a synthetic, electronic voice.

"All of you, leave. I need some space."

Kavan immediately gestured to his men, and the group of killers from the Assassin Sect swiftly exited the room.

They moved into the hallway or the adjacent rooms to await further orders.

Kavan followed them out of the room. As he closed the door, he took one last, long look at the figure.

He had seen the Commander’s mechanical avatar before, in a cave in the mountains of southern Turkey. He naturally understood that this sudden visitor wasn’t the Commander himself, but another mechanical avatar.

’Still, the Commander himself must be nearby.’

All he could do now was focus on security, taking every precaution to ensure no unforeseen incident would interfere with the Commander’s plans.

Kavan then turned to the other members of the Assassin Sect, his gaze profound.

’The Commander doesn’t fully trust me or my men yet,’ he understood.

That was only natural. After all, having witnessed the Purification Society’s mass awakening via Hypnosis, even Kavan couldn’t be certain that there wasn’t a single Purifier hiding among his own subordinates.

Inside the suite, the man in the silver robe looked at Ivanovic, who was strapped to the surgical bed. He suddenly gripped the bed and the adjacent tool trolley.

The next moment, the floor in the center of the room flashed with a silver light before beginning to collapse downward!

The collapsing floor stretched like a silver rubber band, the section beneath the operating table flowing downward like a gelatinous substance, carrying the table straight into the empty room below.

The flowing floor then revealed the silvery metallic sheen of the nanite Gray Tide before closing up again, restoring the floor to its original appearance. Even the pattern was identical.

Having arrived on the floor below, a pool of silver Gray Tide spilled out from under the robed man’s feet. This floor, too, began to rapidly collapse, turning into a fluid Gray Tide that carried the operating table down another level before sealing itself up again.

After descending through three empty rooms, the robed man pushed the operating table toward a nearby wall.

This time, a wall transformed by the Gray Tide parted, creating a passage that allowed the robed man to enter the adjacent room.

The process was repeated again and again.

Within the massive Burj Al Arab Hotel, the robed man pushed the surgical bed through floor after floor, ceiling after ceiling, and wall after wall—sometimes down, sometimes sideways, sometimes up—without leaving a single trace.

The robed man moved with incredible speed. There was no telling how much of the Burj Al Arab Hotel had now been converted by the Gray Tide.

Soon, the robed man had pushed the surgical bed and instrument trolley into an ordinary guest room, a great distance from the original suite.

The moment he entered the room, the wall behind the robed man sealed shut, returning to its normal appearance.

The robed man, however, began to melt and dissolve, transforming into a pool of Gray Tide that flowed across the floor to a pair of feet, where it surged like an ocean current.

This person was none other than Shen Feng, who had arrived in Dubai not long ago!

Looking at Ivanovic strapped to the surgical bed before him, Shen Feng couldn’t help but crack a satisfied smile.

’Not bad. Kavan is quite capable. This Ivanovic seems to be merely in a deep sleep. He’s perfectly healthy, so the quality of the test subject hasn’t diminished.’

’And the instrument trolley on the side is stocked with all sorts of drugs and tools. Everything should be conveniently at hand.’

The Gray Tide on the floor writhed again, this time coalescing into the form of Jingwei. She was dressed in a short-skirted nurse’s uniform and stood beside Shen Feng, looking at the test subject.

"So this is the head of that Purification Society? How is he any different from the others you’ve killed?"

Shen Feng smiled faintly.

"There’s no difference now, but there will be soon... Bring out our tools."

At his words, Jingwei picked up the Quantum Backpack lying on the floor. From it, she retrieved electrodes, chips, various instruments, and even large bottles of culture fluid, among other things.

Shen Feng put on a surgical mask and a pair of disposable gloves. After sterilizing them, he picked up a cranial saw from the trolley. He pressed the button, and the sharp blade began to spin rapidly.

’This was supposed to be a minimally invasive procedure,’ Shen Feng mused. ’But since it’s my first time, a full craniotomy should be safer. Opening up the entire skull will give me a better look.’

Just then, the buzz of the saw startled Ivanovic awake.

He had no idea where he was. Staring at the two masked figures in white coats before him, he murmured,

"Where is this... am I in a hospital? Who are you..."

Then his eyes fell on Shen Feng. He shuddered violently, as if he had seen the most terrifying thing imaginable, and stammered,

"The... The Antichrist!?"

’I’ve fallen into the hands of the Antichrist!’

Seeing the rapidly spinning cranial saw, Ivanovic felt a chill crawl up his spine, and his limbs went weak.

He knew what they were going to do.

He tried to struggle, but he couldn’t break free!

Shen Feng frowned, puzzled as to how the man recognized him. He turned to Jingwei and said,

"Jingwei, anesthetize him. Now. Prepare for the craniotomy."

Ivanovic seemed to understand Chinese, because his eyes flew wide and he shouted,

"No, you can’t—"

But he couldn’t finish his sentence. Jingwei clamped a hand over his mouth and injected a powerful anesthetic into his body.

The light faded from Ivanovic’s eyes as he struggled, then fell unconscious.

Shen Feng shrugged. He moved to stand behind Ivanovic, lifted the man’s hair with one hand, and with the other, skillfully picked up the cranial saw to begin the craniotomy.

"WHIIIIIRRR—"