This Spiritual Energy is Lethal!

Chapter 33: Chapter 033 Wearing the Mask

In the Postman Organization, each mask represented a unique member, with stories of legendary heists hidden behind them.

Even though Pihom, well into his sixties, no longer took to the field personally, just the sight of his mask still reminded the members of his past “exploits”.

These masks were all fashioned from modified hockey masks, sculpted from various clays and plasters on a hard rubber base to create different shapes and appearances, both concealing identities and expressing individual character traits.

Pihom’s mask was a red devil’s face, its mouth etched with sinister white fangs, its skull-like visage chilling to the bone. The mask bore signs of wear, with scuffs and scrapes, its edges faded, imbued with a sense of the times.

Chen Ke wanted to try on the mask but was stopped by Hall. He shook a finger, making a “no, no, no” gesture. Priskin saw this and let out a silly chuckle.

“For us, wearing a mask is a ritual, it signifies…”

...

“Time for a shootout!”

Hall was explaining when Priskin cut in.

“Once the mask is on, you’re no longer yourself. It becomes your second face, the devil in your heart. When we’re not wearing masks, we wait; when we do, we run,” Pihom said with a laugh.

It sounded quite spirited, but Chen Ke couldn’t help thinking that wearing a mask simply meant, “Damn, we’re spotted, fire away!”

“Gentlemen, it’s time we set out. There are many things awaiting our discovery,” Hall said as he loaded his shotgun.

The three men were ready, coming out from another door in the underground safe house to the surface. Chen Ke looked around and saw they were in the back yard of a gun shop. The urban clamor was walled out by concrete, and a blue van was parked in the yard.

The driver was a young fellow in a cap, leaning against the door waiting. When he saw the three men, he immediately opened the door and hopped into the driver’s seat to start the vehicle, rather professionally.

But Chen Ke noticed his unnatural movements, revealing a certain panic. He seemed to be a rookie, and Chen Ke had a premonition he might mess up.

Hall pulled open the van’s side door, and Chen Ke and Priskin filed inside. Once all three were seated, the van started.

Priskin took out a laptop and connected it to the radio with a screen, integrating Google Maps and satellite tracking software to search for signals from their companions.

Chen Ke watched curiously, pondering whether Si’s consortium used similar technology to track the assassins’ cell phones.

“They’re now on White Street, moving towards the West Gold Building, not very fast. We’ll cut them off from the east side of White Avenue,” Priskin said, eyes on the screen.

The driver immediately turned the wheel, following Priskin’s instructions to take White Avenue.

Passing Hao Maiwu Noodle House, Chen Ke looked through the window to see a few customers entering and leaving. Li Bo’s business could finally proceed smoothly after eliminating the toad god, but given the growing desolation of the Lower District, Chen Ke doubted whether the noodle house’s business would pick up.

The van turned a corner and drove down a familiar street, passing through several kilometers of dilapidated residential buildings that caught Chen Ke’s attention.

White Street at number 49, the hiding place of Chen Ke, or rather Lin Mo.

After killing Si’s consortium’s informant and assassin last night without cleaning up the bodies, Chen Ke had made a swift escape. Yet a night had passed with no County Police cordoning off the area nor any TV reports of any homicides. It was as if nothing had happened, with the news endlessly repeating about the incident of Spiritual Energy eruption in an office building.

Chen Ke surmised that either the bodies of the assassin and the woman had yet to be discovered, or Si’s consortium, having failed their assassination, had sent another team to clean up.

“They’ve sped up. Damn, they might’ve discovered Hainerd’s phone is sending out a location signal,” Priskin suddenly blurted out.

“Don’t jump to conclusions. We just follow them and rescue the person. That’s all we need to think about,” Hall said, exuding calmness.

The driver, clearly influenced by Priskin, sped up. It’s undeniable that although he seemed shaky, he was pretty familiar with the streets of the Lower District, bypassing many traffic lights as he weaved through alleys and saving us a good deal of travel time.

The car turned out of an alley and headed onto the main road to the right where Chen Ke glimpsed the office building he had escaped from the night before.

“West Gold Building… now it should be called Black Box number 4679, we’ve passed by here before. Keep going,” Priskin said.

So, that building was called West Gold Building…

That morning on the way to Li Bo’s noodle house, he had passed by here in a taxi, sitting in the backseat as he loaded bullets into a Glock 17.

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

This building had already been wrapped in various black shells by the Administration Bureau, and now it was passed by again, the outer shell now completely enveloping the structure. The massive white letters “Black Rift: 4679” were imprinted on the front of the building, with a smaller line of letters below it stating “Rank: D”.

One couldn’t help but marvel at the Administration Bureau’s efficiency in constructing a Black Box. It hadn’t been very long, and a dungeon ready for investigators to ‘swipe swipe swipe’ through was already prepared…

Chen Ke found it strange that he had experienced so many inconceivable events in less than 20 hours since his arrival. The people or monsters he had directly or indirectly killed had also broken into the triple digits.

The shocking events he had experienced in less than a day were unimaginable compared to his past twenty-something years of life.

“Now let me briefly explain the division of labor,” Hall said.

“When we find the car later, the driver will get close and force it to stop. Then we’ll get out—Priskin is in charge of controlling the driver, I will open the car to rescue the person, and Chen Ke, you’ll be responsible for keeping watch.”

“No problem.”

“That’s the plan.”

Chen Ke and Priskin echoed together.

“If they have associates, we’ll need to clear the riffraff first. No matter what happens, don’t shoot civilians, and aim for a quick battle,” Hall emphasized, turning to Chen Ke.

“You might have a knack for dealing with monsters, but always remember, never shoot the civilians or cops; the consequences would be very troublesome. If the cops show up, I have flashbangs ready. Toss one and run.”

“But if the other side is mercenaries or guards hired by a consortium, then it’s a different story,” Priskin added.

Spiritual Ability Enterprises, when smuggling Holy Relics or doing some dirty deeds, would cultivate a batch of illegal armed forces. Those people were either fugitives or wanted criminals or simply mercenaries. No one would care if these people died on the side of the road. Instead, the Administration Bureau and the County Police would conduct joint investigations, so all Spiritual Businesses were exceptionally low-profile in dealing with these underground conflicts.

And this deliberate low-profile was precisely the backdrop that allowed the Postman Organization to safely carry out robberies. It was a case of ‘dark eating dark,’ and if you were robbed, you just had to bear it.

“Understood, I’m not interested in senseless killing either,” Chen Ke nodded.

The car drove on for a while when suddenly Priskin, observing his computer screen, exclaimed, “The signal is nearby! They’re only about ten meters away from us. Start looking.”

Hall quickly squeezed into the co-driver’s seat and started scanning the street for any approaching vehicles, while Chen Ke was still sitting in his seat, pondering his own matters.

“Right side, about six meters, a black armored car,” Hall tapped Priskin’s shoulder.

“Let me have a look.” Priskin picked up a handheld radio and aimed its lengthy antenna towards the black car, and the signal on the screen started to flash violently.

“That’s the one!”

“Gentlemen, put on your masks!”