I Arrived At Wizard World While Cultivating Immortality Chapter 649: Improvement and Eyes in the Dark

With Harding’s assistance, the internal backlash from the Shadow Serpent within Dirk was progressively subdued.

Just when the situation appeared to be stabilizing, Harding's expression shifted slightly, his brows knitting together.

In that precise moment, an unsettling premonition washed over him.

It was an incredibly faint sensation, akin to a minute insect having brushed against his skin—ephemeral and swift.

Were he not in such a heightened state of awareness, the feeling would have likely gone unnoticed.

It was an almost primal sense of unease.

Much like the feeling of being observed in a desolate street, only to find nothing upon turning around.

Harding's hand faltered, his eyes scanning his own form.

Yet, there was nothing there.

His eyes fluttered open, a flicker of bewilderment clouding his gaunt features. "Old Harding, did you perceive that?"

"Mm," Harding responded curtly, continuing his work. "It's likely residual turbulence from the Shadow Serpent. Stay focused."

Dirk didn't probe further, but a quiet certainty settled within him: it was not.

He had endured the Shadow Serpent's reprisal on numerous occasions, but never had he experienced this peculiar sensation of being touched from the exterior of his skin.

It felt more analogous to… something latching on momentarily before detaching.

However, he couldn't articulate precisely what it was.

Beyond the confines of the factory, perched atop a loading structure, Jie Ming retracted his stare from Harding and Dirk, his own brow furrowed in thought.

"It appears the Micro-Light Eye requires further refinement."

The reactions from the two individuals corroborated a subtle issue Jie Ming had previously identified.

When he had initially entrusted the Micro-Light Eye to the black market contact, he had already detected a subtle anomaly.

On each occasion the intermediary delivered items, Jie Ming had diligently monitored the Micro-Light Eye's status.

Without exception, the intermediary had never registered any external anomalies on his person.

However, each time the Micro-Light Eye had attached itself, the man would exhibit an involuntary, subconscious gesture—such as scratching a specific spot or absently patting it.

Jie Ming had recognized the implication at that juncture.

Given the black market intermediary's deep involvement in clandestine activities, it was improbable that he was an ordinary individual.

While the Micro-Light Eye's energy signature had been cleverly masked to resemble that of a 'Strange,' its inherent 'frequency' deviated from the power profile of Spirit Mediums who harbored a sealed 'Strange' within them. When these disparate frequencies of 'Strange' power interacted, a subtle repulsion was generated.

Though insufficient for conscious detection, it was potent enough to elicit an instinctive unease—a 'something's not right' feeling—in the host.

Precisely as had occurred moments before, prompting both Harding and Dirk to register the discomfort.

The 'Strange' entities residing within their bodies had reacted to the Micro-Light Eye's influence, triggering an innate defensive response, much like one's hair standing on end.

Jie Ming mentally cataloged this observation for future consideration.

Subsequent enhancements to the Micro-Light Eye would necessitate either an adjustment of its energy frequency to achieve 'compatibility' with the ambient auras of most 'Strange' entities, or a further reduction of its energy output to a level where even this instinctive reflex would remain dormant.

These considerations, however, were secondary for the present moment.

He had more pressing matters demanding his attention.

Jie Ming's form dissolved from the loading tower's apex as he pursued the path the Shadow Thief had taken in its escape.

Having breached the containment array's fissure, the Shadow Thief rapidly traversed the ground of the derelict industrial complex.

Its shadowy cloak rendered it utterly imperceptible within the gloom, and its energy fluctuations were thoroughly dispersed into the surrounding atmosphere. Theoretically, it should have been beyond the scope of tracking or apprehension.

However, Jie Ming had strategically placed multiple Micro-Light Eyes onto the Shadow Thief—and even onto the shark-like entity—thus negating any concern of losing the trail. Jie Ming opted to prioritize the pursuit of the Shadow Thief.

While the unique fusion technology employed by that 'Strange' creature significantly piqued his interest, the Shadow Thief itself represented equally valuable material.

Despite the prevalence of many 'Strange' entities on this plane, one possessing capabilities of this caliber was not an everyday encounter.

Jie Ming moved with spectral silence through the nocturnal landscape, charting a course toward the origin of the signal transmitted by the Micro-Light Eye.

Concurrently, within the abandoned factory's confines.

Harding had finally succeeded in completely neutralizing the Shadow Serpent's influence over Dirk.

Dirk's complexion transitioned from alarmingly pale to merely unwell. While still exceedingly frail, the immediate threat to his life had receded.

He slumped against the wall, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Moisture had saturated a considerable portion of his uniform collar.

The emergency intervention for the Shadow Serpent had, in actuality, been a swift process. Just as the re-containment procedure concluded, clamorous footsteps and the cacophony of clashing metal erupted from outside the factory's perimeter.

Simultaneously, the factory saw the entry of two elite teams from the east, one male and one female contingent, alongside other elite teams from the remaining directions, all leading their respective capture squads.

Signs of recent conflict were evident on all of them.

Notably, the capture team members displayed uniforms marked with bullet holes and slash wounds, with some faces still dusted with debris and stained with blood. Thankfully, it appeared no one sustained critical injuries.

Each individual from the elite squads was seen escorting or dragging one to two figures clad in black robes.

The hoods of these black-robed individuals were pulled back, revealing faces that spanned various ages, displaying expressions ranging from fear to numbness.

Despite some attempts to struggle, their movements were rendered futile by the special restraints provided by the Association, which bound their hands and feet securely.

“Report on the situation,” Harding commanded, rising to his feet as his gaze swept across the incoming elite forces.

“The east side is secured,” the female elite reported, her voice tinged with weariness. “Five Spirit Mediums put up an intense resistance, leaving us no choice but to eliminate them. Eleven remaining armed personnel were encountered, three of whom have been captured.”

“The north side reported similar circumstances,” a member of another elite squad chimed in. “Although their numbers were fewer than the east, their ferocity in combat was equivalent. Not a single one attempted to retreat.”

“The south side…” The leader of the third elite squad paused. “We encountered no enemies on the south side. Those individuals proved more ruthless than anticipated. Moreover, my abilities are not best suited for capturing opponents alive.”

Harding’s brow furrowed with concern.

“Bring the captives forward,” Harding ordered.

Several elite members maneuvered the captured individuals to the factory’s central area.

The three men in black robes were forced to their knees. Their expressions conveyed not a fanatical disregard for life, but rather a palpable sense of confusion and apprehension. The lips of one man trembled, as if he harbored unspoken words he dared not utter.

Harding approached him, fixing him with a commanding gaze from above.

“Speak. Who dispatched you? You must understand that with Spirit Mediums present, concealing any secrets is impossible. It would be prudent to confess now and avoid further suffering…”

The black-robed man parted his lips. A dry swallowing sound emanated from his throat. Then… his eyes widened abruptly!

His pupils expanded instantaneously, as if an internal explosion had occurred within his body.

His frame stiffened rigidly before he plummeted forward like a felled tree, his face striking the concrete floor with a muffled thud.

The two black-robed men positioned beside him met the exact same fate at the precise same moment.

Pupils dilated, bodies convulsed, and then all three collapsed.

Witnessing this, Harding and the assembled elite squad members exhibited grim expressions.

Dirk pushed himself off the wall, straightened, and approached to examine one of the fallen bodies.

He checked the carotid artery, then gently lifted an eyelid to inspect the pupil. Raising his head, his face assumed a solemn mien.

“They are deceased.”

“Indeed…” Harding’s voice deepened.

The female Association elite also moved closer to inspect the bodies, her countenance turning grim. “This method… is beyond the capabilities of an ordinary cult.”

Upon hearing this, Dirk meticulously examined the deceased’s mouth, nasal cavity, and skin for any external signs of trauma, finding none.

He then released a subtle wisp of Shadow Serpent aura, extending it to probe within the body.

Mere moments later, he withdrew his energy, his expression darkening further. He had grasped the precise nature of what had transpired.

“The Strange entity within them… became uncontrollable,” Dirk explained. “It appears to be a pre-programmed mechanism. Upon capture or leaving a designated perimeter, the internal seals would automatically activate, unleashing the Strange to instantly consume the host’s soul and physical form.”

A profound silence descended upon the factory.

This revelation indicated that these black-robed individuals had never harbored any intention of returning alive from the outset.

Certainly, having witnessed a myriad of cult-induced brainwashing techniques, they were not entirely taken aback by such extreme resolve.

However, as the female elite had noted, this particular method was not commonplace; it required specialized knowledge.

“Can we ascertain the specific technique employed by the adversary?” Harding inquired, his voice low but each word laden with palpable anger.

“Not definitively,” the female elite responded, her tone conveying a sense of frustration. “The Strange’s annihilation of the soul was exceedingly thorough.”

“It would seem… the enemy has been observing this location continuously,” the north-side elite added.

Eight elite operatives, a three-pronged assault, and all apprehended prisoners met their demise simultaneously.

This could not be mere coincidence. Undeniably, someone was remotely monitoring the entire operation.

Harding remained motionless, lost in contemplation for an extended period.

“Old Harding,” Dirk’s voice interjected from beside him. “What is our next course of action?”

Harding cast him a glance but offered no immediate reply.

Dirk persisted, “Based on this assault, they were privy to our operation timeline, aware of our strategic positions, understood that approaching from the sea offered the greatest advantage, and even predicted our deployment of substantial forces to the east and north while neglecting the sea. Such detailed intelligence cannot be gathered merely through passive observation.” He left his final thought unvoiced, yet every individual present fully grasped its implication.