My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 961 Level 50 Commander

I landed hard on the other side, tumbling with the force of the impact and rising swiftly, my grip solidifying as I surveyed the surroundings. Shouts and the clamor of voices reached me. Numerous humans were surging towards the breach, and I recognized them instantly – the same alien humans I had encountered in the prior safe zone, their distinctive white robes and sword emblem confirming their identity.

I made no move to let them corner me. The puppets I had deployed were already advancing behind me, drawing the attention of the guards above and those converging from within, but I did not linger to maintain control. Their purpose had been fulfilled.

I turned and fled into one of the city's thoroughfares. The street unfolded before me, flanked by houses with narrow alleys branching off in various directions. Without hesitation, I selected a path, my speed unwavering as I plunged deeper into the urban sprawl. Behind me, the sounds of pursuit intensified, footsteps and voices echoing closer as they tracked my trajectory.

I veered left. Then right.

I altered my course again. I allowed them to follow. Then I broke away.

A final turn concealed me from their direct pursuit, and I slipped towards a nearby dwelling, nudging the door open just enough to slide inside before closing it with practiced quiet. The interior was dim and deserted, the air still. I advanced further, keeping low, my breathing shallow, as the sounds of the chase receded.

Footsteps rushed past, and soon the voices faded into the distance.

I took in the dwelling. It was ancient, constructed entirely of wood, the floorboards underfoot worn smooth by time and frequent use. A subtle aroma of aged timber permeated the air as I ventured deeper within.

I took in the dwelling. It was ancient, constructed entirely of wood, the floorboards underfoot worn smooth by time and frequent use. A subtle aroma of aged timber permeated the air as I ventured deeper within.

The furnishings were sparse and utilitarian: a low table positioned to the side, a few chairs showing their age, and shelves affixed to the walls laden with miscellaneous items that had long lost any semblance of order. The place felt not abandoned, but rather hastily vacated.

Moving with stealth, I placed each footfall with deliberate care as I made my way towards the narrow staircase at the rear. The wood groaned faintly under my weight, but not enough to betray my presence beyond the walls. I ascended to the first floor without haste, my grip firm on my axe as I reached the upper level.

A small window offered a view of the street below.

I approached it cautiously, leaning just enough to observe the outside world without revealing myself. The city was already astir.

Adherents, clad in their characteristic white robes, traversed the streets in clusters, easily discernible even from afar. They were spreading out, meticulously searching one house after another. Some paused at doorways, while others moved ahead, communicating with one another as they systematically combed the area, their search growing more rigorous with each passing moment.

"They're not delaying..." I whispered, retreating from the window.

Lingering here was no longer a viable option.

I turned and descended the stairs, returning to the ground floor and positioning myself near the entrance. I stood to the side, close enough to react but concealed from immediate sight, my senses attuned to the faint sounds from outside.

Soon, I detected approaching footsteps, but they were solitary. A lone adherent.

I waited.

The instant a shadow passed the sliver of the doorway, I acted.

The door swung open just enough for me to slip through, my hand already extending as I moved behind him. He had scant opportunity to react before I closed the distance, one hand securing his shoulder while the other delivered a swift blow to the side of his neck. The impact was precise. His body went slack instantaneously. I caught him before he fell, drawing him back inside and closing the door silently. His weight shifted as I pulled him further in, then lifted him just enough to carry him toward the staircase again, moving swiftly yet cautiously as I brought him to the first floor.

I laid him down near the wall and briefly scanned the room.

Ropes or cloth were needed. Ropes were absent, but fabric would suffice. I tore a strip from one of the nearby coverings and bound his hands securely, then proceeded to his legs, tying them just as firmly. Another strip was placed across his mouth, pulled taut and knotted to ensure silence the moment he regained consciousness.

Once finished, I stepped back slightly, observing him for a moment.

[Believer Human – Level 22]

"Awaken..." I commanded softly, then crouched and delivered a slap to his face.

His head twitched slightly, but consciousness did not return.

I struck him again. This time, the blow landed with greater force.

A reaction followed. His eyes flew open, a flicker of confusion momentarily crossing his features before awareness dawned. His body tensed instinctively against the restraints as he struggled futilely.

There was no time for him to struggle or resist. I immediately crouched, reaching out to grasp two of his fingers. My hold was gentle, not enough to inflict a break, but sufficient for him to grasp how little effort it would take to cause him harm.

"I need to know all about this location," I stated, my tone unwavering. "How many of your people are present, what are their cultivation levels, who commands this place… I want every detail."

My grip tightened infinitesimally, a subtle pressure he couldn't ignore.

"If you withhold information," I continued, my gaze locking with his, "you will experience considerable pain."

His immediate reaction was a flurry of nods, his head bobbing rapidly, his eyes wide and fearful as he attempted to speak past the gag.

I paused, observing him with a flicker of unexpectedness.

"You intend to cooperate?" I inquired.

He nodded once more, this time with even greater haste.

With a slight shrug, I extended my hand and removed the cloth from his mouth.

The instant it was gone, he spoke his first words.

"There's no need for violence, I'll tell you everything," he blurted out, his words pouring forth in a torrent. "There are fifty of us stationed within this city. This isn't a significant strategic point, so only a small contingent was assigned here."

My attention remained fixed on him, observing his every move.

"Our individuals range from level fifteen to level fifty," he continued, his throat working as he swallowed before proceeding. "The majority are in the mid-range, but the more formidable members are deployed closer to the central area."

"Who is in charge here?" I pressed.

"Our commander..." he began, a slight tremor entering his voice, "his name is Dent."

A brief, almost imperceptible hesitation followed.

Then, he delivered the final piece of information.

"He's at level fifty."