Chapter 11 Undercurrents

Watching the pile of wood shavings on the floor, Chen Ran couldn't help but frown. He turned around, seemingly intending to clean up the mess himself.

"Ahem..." Wei Jin Ting paused. "Wait a minute. I have something to tell you." His playful attitude vanished, and he looked very serious.

"The Night Watchers have planted a mole among us," Chen Ran said casually.

"Hehe." Wei Jin Ting grinned. "Little Ranran, you're practically the worm in my stomach. You know everything I'm thinking."

"Whoever hurt you this badly must have come prepared," Chen Ran said, tilting his head towards Wei Jin Ting on the bed. "Who do you suspect?"

"Not many people have access to this level of information." Wei Jin Ting turned his neck, looking at Chen Ran with a strange gaze, and slowly said, "Only guys like us."

"If we want to, we should be able to ferret out this mole quickly, depending on what the Director wants."

After a moment of contemplation, Chen Ran asked, "The weapon used to attack you... was it the same type?"

"Yes." After a pause, Wei Jin Ting's expression became solemn. "But this time, they're even more insane. They've started modifying Grade A's, making them sign blood pacts on blank sheets, and then using them as weapons against us."

"Whether it succeeds or not, it's hard for them to avoid being corrupted by the will behind the Door. It's completely a suicide attack." Wei Jin Ting said, "Once awakened, they simply can't control the power of the taboo with their bodies."

Seemingly realizing something, Chen Ran immediately looked at his teammate on the bed, a hint of emotion he had never shown before flashing in his eyes. "You brought her out here because you want to..."

"My ability is very important to what we need to do." Withdrawing his gaze, Wei Jin Ting looked at the ceiling, a ripple appearing in his eyes. "Someone needs to... inherit my Door."

After a long silence, Chen Ran asked, "Why her?"

"I don't know, maybe it's her eyes. When she met me, she wasn't thinking about surviving. The only thing she wanted was to drag me down to hell with her."

"She's really stubborn..." Wei Jin Ting suddenly smiled, a glimmer of light in his eyes. "Isn't she like we were back then? Tricked by those people with high-sounding principles, willing to die for the greater good without a second thought. But what was the result?"

"They betrayed us! They betrayed us!" Wei Jin Ting cried, tears streaming down his face. "They raised the monster with their own hands, but they refused to acknowledge it themselves..."

"Everyone has to learn to pay the price for their actions, and so do they." Wei Jin Ting grinned. "They won't expect what kind of monster I released from the Door this time."

Recalling Wei Jin Ting's description of Wu, Chen Ran's expression gradually became strange.

"It should be two monsters."

A voice came from outside the door. Chen Ran and Wei Jin Ting looked towards the door simultaneously. A figure stood by the door, as if they had been there for some time.

...

A spacious rectangular room.

Solemn and dignified in its arrangement.

It was vast, easily accommodating hundreds of people. The atmosphere was filled with an ancient, decaying aura that lingered.

This was a large conference room. A long, pure black table was positioned in the center, with two rows of high-backed chairs placed symmetrically on either side.

Bizarre patterns were engraved on the armrests of the chairs, and staring at them for too long felt like your eyes were about to sink into them.

Candlesticks were placed on the table, with pale candles burning dimly, emitting a lifeless light.

Like the people attending the meeting, most of them were already gray-haired, the faces revealed beneath their black cloaks etched with the marks of time.

It was hard to imagine that most of these people were over a hundred years old.

Some had even fully experienced two world wars, and in each war, they were valiant participants, with countless medals at home.

But the light in these people's eyes was unlike that of ordinary old people.

Each of them stood tall and straight, their breathing steady and deep, and powerful muscles bulged beneath their loose cloaks.

They were not only not old, but also in excellent condition.

Their weapons were hidden beneath their cloaks. Most of them were cold weapons, including unremarkable daggers with blood grooves on both sides.

There were also antique, Persian-style curved knives inlaid with cat's-eye stones.

And some even carried firearms, revolvers with terrifyingly large calibers.

The ivory grips were heavily worn, and if nothing else, they seemed to be a relic of the Wild West era.

Every weapon had its own history and... its own honor. Countless corrupted, bloodthirsty, and rampaging Out-of-Control individuals had fallen beneath them.

But they, and their masters, could not be seen in the light.

They could only hide in the shadows of the city.

Silently retreating before the first ray of dawn arrived.

Their name.

Was Night Watchers.

This was the highest-level meeting of the Night Watchers' Execution Department.

Few were qualified to attend.

There were a total of 12 people present, all members of the Night Watchers' Council of Elders.

Each representing one of the 12 families that had originally founded the Night Watchers.

A black wooden hammer tapped lightly on the table twice. The man at the head of the table raised his heavy eyelids, his hoarse voice like a death knell. "Begin the vote."

A young man in a suit, gold-rimmed glasses, and a pure white tie walked out of the darkness on the left, carrying a black wooden tray in his hand.

The young man began to walk along the chairs, pausing briefly each time he passed one. Everyone in attendance looked grave.

"Thud."

Someone removed a ring from the little finger of their left hand and solemnly placed it on the tray.

The ring was large, with the crest of the owner's family engraved on its surface using intaglio and relief techniques.

This represented that he had the authority to make a promise on behalf of his family.

One after another, these ancient relics, who had lived for an entire century, hesitated on this matter.

Some rubbed their signet rings for a long time, but finally shook their heads slightly.

The young man carrying the tray nodded slightly, then walked away expressionlessly and moved to the next person.

After making a round, the young man returned to his starting point.

Everyone was staring at the tray in his hand. For the first time, a feeling of tension spread through the crowd, and those calm, unfathomable eyes began to flicker.

This decision... would change many, many things.

It could even be said to concern the lives of countless people.

Seven rings.

This meant that seven people supported the decision.

No, it was the families behind those seven people.

The Council of Elders stipulated that the resolution could only be implemented if it received the approval of two-thirds of its members.

One more person was needed.

At this moment, everyone looked towards the man at the head of the table. Only he had not yet expressed his position.

Large beads of sweat dripped down his temples. He slowly rubbed the large emerald ring on his little finger, and the atmosphere in the entire conference room froze.

Finally, he took off the ring and placed it heavily on the tray.