I Arrived At Wizard World While Cultivating Immortality Chapter 647: The Disruptor

“What are you waiting for?” Harding’s voice boomed through the wind and rain. “Attack!”

The capture team members promptly responded.

They intensified their control over the formation’s energy, elevating the suppression formation's strength by another notch.

With Harding, an elite, spearheading the entire capture team, bolstered by the sealing formation and the lighting arrays, they unleashed their complete offensive might.

The Shadow Thief began to be overpowered.

Its shadowy film relentlessly contracted under the storm’s onslaught, pulling back from the walls, retreating from the mechanical structures, and being progressively compressed into that confined area at the heart of the factory building.

Countless lightning bolts formed a sealed ‘barrier’ around it, thwarting any further expansion.

“Sealing formation, prepare to converge!” Dirk commanded.

The capture team members swiftly readjusted the positions of the runes. The formation’s light began to contract inwards, further restricting the Shadow Thief’s sphere of action.

Everything was proceeding favorably.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, they should soon manage to suppress and seal the entity.

If only nothing unexpected were to occur…

The eastern facade of the factory building abutted the fringe of the derelict industrial zone. Beyond that lay a dirt track leading towards the old district.

Suddenly, points of light materialized on the dirt road.

The vigilant captain of the capture team narrowed his gaze, attempting to discern the source of those lights.

His night vision far surpassed ordinary human capabilities, yet the lights were shrouded in dense fog, allowing him to perceive only vague silhouettes.

As they drew nearer, the silhouettes resolved into clearer forms.

They were individuals.

A multitude of them.

Clad in dark robes with hoods obscuring their heads and faces, only their chins and mouths were discernible.

Each person bore a kerosene lamp. The flames within flickered subtly in the nocturnal breeze, casting dim, yellow glows that diffused into hazy halos within the thick mist.

They advanced in a single file, moving at an unhurried, silent pace towards the abandoned factory.

Gunfire erupted along the eastern road of the abandoned industrial zone.

The alert squad of the capture team gripped their rifles, positioned behind makeshift barricades, their eyes pressed to their scopes, identifying the line of faint yellow lights piercing the obscuring fog.

“Halt! You are approaching a restricted zone. Cease your advance immediately!”

The command resonated through the night air.

There was no reply.

The procession of black-robed figures showed no sign of stopping.

The figures carrying kerosene lamps continued their steady, unhurried march towards them. Their faces, concealed beneath their hoods, remained lost in shadow, with only their chins and tightly drawn lips visible, betraying no emotion.

The leader of the alert squad, a man in his early thirties, observed their lack of response and refrained from issuing a second warning.

“Open fire!”

Five rifles simultaneously discharged their rounds.

Bullets tore through the fog, slicing the air, and accurately struck towards the black-robed figures at the forefront of the group.

The members of the alert squad were all Association field operatives. While not elite Spirit Mediums, marksmanship was a fundamental aspect of their training.

At this range and under these illumination conditions, their accuracy rate would not fall below ninety percent.

However, the outcome deviated from expectations.

The five black-robed figures positioned centrally in the line made no attempt to evade.

As the bullets reached approximately half a meter before them, they appeared to encounter an invisible barrier.

The air shimmered faintly, and the projectile tips were deflected, clattering onto the stone-paved road.

The remaining black-robed figures swiftly dispersed.

Their movements were rapid—far quicker than those of ordinary individuals.

Some executed sideways rolls, seeking cover behind abandoned vehicles lining the road. Others flickered, vanishing into the shadows cast by the buildings. A few even faced the bullets directly. The rounds impacted their black robes with muffled thuds before losing their momentum and falling harmlessly to the ground.

Their reaction speeds demonstrably exceeded normal human parameters.

They had evidently taken gene enhancement drugs—and not of the lowest tier.

As for the five individuals in the center, impervious to the bullets… they were Spirit Mediums!

Drawing upon his experience, the alert squad leader immediately assessed the nature of the enemy, his pupils constricting.

Without hesitation, he activated his communicator: “Enemy forces attacking from the east! Minimum of five Spirit Mediums and over ten armed combatants detected! Requesting immediate reinforcements!”

As soon as he finished speaking, a shadowy mass erupted from the center of the black-robed contingent.

It was a churning mass of dark, viscous fog, taking the form of some amorphous, twisted entity.

It surged forth from the palm of one black-robed figure, expanding rapidly in the air as it lunged towards the alert squad.

The alert squad leader instinctively squeezed the trigger, but the bullets traversed the dark fog without any discernible impact.

The black fog persisted in its advance. Its ethereal ‘body’ had already widened considerably, resembling a monstrous maw poised to engulf everyone on the road.

Then, the oppressive black fog violently dissipated.

A streak of silvery light shot in from the side, striking the very core of the murky darkness.

The moment the light encountered the fog, the darkness was torn asunder from within by an unseen force. It emitted a chilling, soundless shriek before rapidly collapsing and vanishing entirely.

Two luminous figures emerged from their cover along the roadside.

They were adorned in dark blue uniforms, accented with silver trim on their collars and cuffs. Star-shaped insignia were meticulously embroidered beneath the emblems on their left chests.

These were members of the elite squads Harding had observed earlier—a man and a woman, both appearing to be in their early thirties, possessing stern visages and moving with unwavering composure.

The man led the way, his right hand held in the precise posture of having just released a projectile. A faint silver-white luminescence still clung to his fingertips.

His expression was one of serene calmness, as if engaged in a routine operation.

The woman followed closely behind, her gaze sweeping over the scattered figures in black robes with a frigid smile gracing her lips.

“Judging by your attire, you must be part of some wicked cult,” she declared, her voice not booming but imbued with undisguised disdain. “To dare intrude upon our domain… you truly have no regard for your own lives.”

Upon witnessing the arrival of the two, the leader of the alert group felt a slight easing of the tension in his shoulders.

He raised a hand, issuing a simple hand signal: withdraw.

The alert group members swiftly lowered their rifles and tactically retreated, falling back under mutual cover. They re-established firing positions further back, their muzzles still trained intently on the black-robed individuals.

With the elite squad members now on the scene, their assigned mission transformed from active “interception” to providing crucial “support.”

The five figures cloaked in black at the center offered no verbal response to the woman’s taunt.

They displayed no superfluous movements whatsoever. The instant they registered the presence of the newcomers, they acted with immediate resolve.

All five simultaneously unleashed their Stranges. Distorted, malevolent powers surged forth, instantly invading the surrounding spatial fabric.

Coincidentally, the armed personnel in black robes forming the outer perimeter also advanced.

Emerging from behind their respective cover points, they unleashed a barrage of gunfire.

These cultists were armed with short-barreled submachine guns, capable of high rates of fire and delivering devastating firepower. A relentless torrent of bullets descended upon the area.

While their marksmanship was demonstrably inferior to that of the Spirit Medium Association’s alert group, they compensated with sheer numbers and overwhelming, dense firepower.

The Spirit Medium Association forces returned fire without a moment's hesitation.

The two elite members engaged the five black-robed Spirit Mediums directly.

The man swung his right hand once more. Blinding silver-white light erupted in the air, precisely cleaving the incoming black fog into numerous fragments.

The woman then unleashed her own Strange ability.

A translucent, pale blue membrane of light materialized around her being. Fine, crackling arcs of electricity danced energetically across its surface.

As dark, writhing tentacles made contact with the light membrane, the electrical arcs immediately conducted back along their lengths, causing them to detonate, segment by segment.

The two elite operatives worked in seamless concert, their coordination impeccable.

The man concentrated on frontal assaults, his silver-white light functioning like a hyper-precise scalpel, meticulously dissecting every incoming attack.

The woman managed the defensive maneuvers and counter-offensives. The pale blue light membrane enveloped both herself and her male partner. Any assault that neared its perimeter was met with a furious backlash of electrical arcs.

Despite the numerical superiority of the five black-robed Spirit Mediums, their collective strength and collaborative synergy were clearly outmatched by the Association’s elite force.

Their offensive maneuvers were disjointed and lacked effective teamwork. Their Stranges even seemed to impede one another. One black-robed figure’s murky fog collided with another’s probing tentacles; the corrosive nature of the fog severely degraded the tentacles' offensive capability.

Consequently, even after fully activating their Stranges, the black-robed contingent proved incapable of overcoming their two elite opponents.

“Incompetents,” Jie Ming assessed inwardly, holding them in low regard.

His attention then shifted to the capture team positioned further back.

Their combat prowess was also remarkably formidable.

Although the majority consisted of standard field personnel, a select few among them were Spirit Mediums who had managed to seal Hazard Grade Stranges.

In the ongoing firefight, their marksmanship, tactical coordination, and the skillful application of their Strange abilities far surpassed those demonstrated by the black-robed armed operatives.

More significantly, a distinct disparity in equipment existed between the two factions.

The Association’s combat gear was exceptionally well-equipped and comprehensive. Their firearms were standardized, ensuring high accuracy and minimal failure rates. Their bulletproof vests were designed to withstand the impact of most pistol rounds and rifle bullet fragments.

The very design of their uniforms was remarkably ingenious. Every Association uniform emitted a subtle, faint luminescence in the pervasive darkness.

This clever design feature ensured that Association members would remain in a detectable “lit” state even if they accidentally found themselves plunged into darkness—for instance, if their lighting equipment was destroyed or if they were somehow pulled beyond the effective range of the illumination arrays.

While the emitted light was not intensely bright, its mere presence was sufficient. As long as even a minimal amount of light persisted, the entity known as “Night” would not dare to approach.

The situation was starkly different for the figures clad in black robes.

During the intense exchange of fire, several individuals clad in black robes found their kerosene lamps extinguished.

The moment these lamps were destroyed, the surrounding darkness intensified, becoming almost palpable.

A flicker of fear crossed their visages as they instinctively reached for the timepieces adorning their wrists.

These watches, equipped with small, luminescent dials, offered a faint glow in the oppressive blackness.

The dim, yellowish light managed to push back the darkness by a meter or so around each person.

While their expressions eased slightly, their movements adopted a noticeable degree of caution. They no longer dared to expose themselves so brazenly for shots as they had previously.

Jie Ming's eyes precisely scanned the shattered remnants of kerosene lamps strewn across the periphery of the ongoing conflict.

It was clear that the lighting methods employed by the black-robed operatives were exceedingly rudimentary, placing an almost complete reliance on a single, vulnerable light source.

Once their primary lamps were compromised, their only recourse was the minuscule illumination provided by their wristwatches.

The faint light emitted by these watches barely extended a meter, and its intensity was already diminishing steadily.

Tragically, a few of the black-robed figures stiffened momentarily in the impenetrable darkness when stray bullets struck and shattered their watches, and then... they vanished.

They had been spirited away by the "Night" – swiftly and without a trace.

In summation, the Spirit Medium Association certainly lived up to its reputation as a formidable official entity.

Even for the apprehension of a solitary Threat Grade Strange, they had mobilized a substantial combat contingent, ensuring that no external interference could possibly occur.

An elite squad was actively defending the eastern flank, while equally fierce engagements unfolded on the southern and northern fronts, signifying the involvement of the other two elite squads against the black-robed forces in those sectors.

This constituted a comprehensive three-flank pincer movement, leaving no vulnerable angles.

Furthermore, it was an undeniable certainty that with such a significant display of force and the resulting commotion, reinforcements from the Spirit Medium Association would inevitably arrive in short order.

However... the opposing faction appeared to possess an intimate familiarity with the Association's strategic deployments.

If that were the case, it was highly improbable that they would have arrived with such a limited degree of preparation.

Jie Ming diverted his attention from the immediate battlefield, directing his gaze towards the vast expanse of the sea.

This particular area represented the western periphery of the derelict industrial zone. No land-based routes were accessible from this direction; only a moderately inclined embankment met the surface of the gray, fog-shrouded ocean.

A dense fog lay heavy upon the sea, completely obscuring any distant visibility.

Jie Ming's gaze intensified, a thoughtful depth entering his eyes as he observed the scene.