Ada took Tran back to his bedroom. It was past midnight. Seeing how sleepy he looked, she didn’t press him for details and simply sent him to bed.
Tran was more than happy with that. He’d report to school tomorrow and check on Bai Xing’s condition. Then he drifted off to sleep.
While Tran rested peacefully, the Soul Hunters were swamped. Their researchers tried examining Warriors One through Four. Tran had only crippled them, but they were still alive.
Yet the moment a researcher got close, their bodily functions started failing. One touched a warrior’s skin and collapsed instantly. He convulsed wildly for five minutes before dying.
“Pathetic old humans! You think you can study our bodies? Forget it—this’ll never happen in your lifetime!” Warrior Three shouted arrogantly from the crater Tran had blasted him into.
So the Soul Hunter HQ deployed a remote-controlled robot. Armed with two large cleavers, it began dissecting him. Warrior Three’s skin, reinforced by the Destruction Force, was too tough for needles. No anesthesia was given. His screams and roars were utterly heart-wrenching.
“You bastards! I’ll kill every last one of you!” Warrior Three growled, watching his own dissection. He couldn’t fight back. Tran’s single kick had struck his spine, hitting a nerve. His limbs were paralyzed. Only his torso could still feel pain.
“Go fetch my two-month-old socks. Stuff them in his mouth,” ordered a bearded, long-haired researcher.
“Director… isn’t this too cruel?” a young man pleaded, pitying Warrior Three. He hadn’t flinched during the dissection. “What if we just cut his vocal cords?”
“No. We still need answers from him. Move!” the researcher snapped. The young man guided the robot over. “Director, the socks?”
The researcher shot him a glance and yanked off his shoe.
...
“Mmph! Mmph!!” Warrior Three glared, furious. But his eyes held a hint of death wish.
“Good. Now he’s quiet. Search for his energy source,” the researcher said calmly.
“Yes!” chorused a group in gas masks. Letters marked their helmets since faces were hidden.
The young man leaned against a wall downstairs, gulping fresh air. “Damn! Are you insane for wearing the same socks for two months?!”
...
“Director, energy analysis is complete. It matches the meteorite energy previously monitored by the Observatory. They used it to enhance themselves,” reported Researcher A.
“So their bodies contain fragments of that meteorite?” the researcher mused.
“Found it!” Researcher B’s robot extracted a fingernail-sized stone from Warrior Three. “I’ll run tests immediately!”
“Go ahead.” The researcher scanned data from Researcher A. It mapped Warrior Three’s energy flow precisely. The Destruction Force moved alongside his Superpower—enhancing it.
“Huh? This can’t be right. Why are their Superpowers only B-rank?” He checked the detection report again. All four Cyborgs were B-rank. Number Four was nearly C-rank.
“Damn! Who devised this twisted trick?” he exclaimed.
“Director, what’s wrong?” asked Researcher C.
“Nothing. Keep moving the bodies. No one gets near them.”
“Understood!”
Researcher B returned with his test results. “Director, these stones hold bizarre energy. But they destroy human tissue. Normally, they’d be unusable!”
“Heh. Human ingenuity knows no bounds. If the stones demand a body’s destruction to release power… why not pay a different price?” The researcher smirked. “They’re feeding their Superpower to this force. Trading it for greater strength.”
“What?!” The other researchers gasped. Their own C-rank Superpowers were precious—sources of pride, sometimes even growing stronger. Using them as mere feed was unthinkable.
“Nothing’s impossible. Take a team back to the lab. Dump the dissected one in the formalin tank. Can’t you see he’s foaming at the mouth?” The researcher slipped his shoes back on.
The others stared, speechless. Warrior Three wasn’t just in pain—he was poisoned by those socks.
...
Ada soon received the researchers’ report. She grasped how terrifying these attackers truly were.
“We must ally with the Superpower Association. This isn’t about Soul Beasts—it’s powerful humans!” Ford declared at a roundtable meeting.
“This involves the White Emperor Kingdom, one of the Ten Great Nations. We need a solid plan. That country isn’t to be trifled with,” said a man beside the head seat.
“The White Emperor Kingdom is in turmoil. With this exposed, it’s ripe for overthrow,” added Ford’s neighbor.
Ten leaders of the Soul Hunter organization sat around the table. Even the Grand Master occupied the head seat.
Word had reached global elites: the White Emperor Kingdom forged warriors using extraterrestrial meteorite fragments. They sacrificed lives. This violated international treaties—any anti-human act invites worldwide condemnation.
In short, the kingdom was now a global enemy. But they hesitated to act. They knew too little of its military strength. Ministers and the king were locked in a fierce stalemate. Neither could win alone. Yet an external threat would unite them instantly.
That was the root of their deep dilemma.
