Meanwhile, inside the deserted Heavenly Mandate Mall, a cloaked shadow glided through the fifth-floor corridors. Up close, one could see a massive raven mask covering his face, his entire body sealed beneath dark fabric—even his hands wore black gloves.

"Raven here," he said into his phone.

"Raven? Report." A man’s voice crackled through the line.

"I’m on-site… Subject 82 is confirmed dead." Raven crouched slightly before Mole’s corpse, gloved fingers brushing the still-damp blood on the floor. "Time of death aligns closely with Doctor Bai Ya’s departure."

He straightened, then pulled out a camera to photograph the body.

"Cause?" the man pressed.

"A massive chest wound—likely blade-related." Raven stepped onto Mole’s torso, peering down. "But the fatal strike pierced the heart. Subject was first pinned to the ground by a large weapon, then finished off. Need photos?"

"Send them. Anything else noteworthy?" The man tapped his chair arm.

"Only this single penetration wound. No matching weapon found at the scene." Raven’s gaze swept the area, his tone utterly calm.

"Raven, can you reconstruct it?" The man sounded intrigued.

"I’ll try." Raven tucked away his camera and circled the corpse. Suddenly, he halted. Raising both arms, his wide cloak billowed—and from its shadow, several ravens burst forth, wings flapping as they scattered to other floors.

The man stayed silent, keeping the line open.

Through Raven’s eyes, the world fractured into countless monochrome fragments, stitching together a panoramic view of the entire mall. Every floor, every corner—whatever his ravens witnessed flowed back to him. After ten minutes of their rough survey, he pulled out a notebook and pen.

Each page represented one floor. No need for intricate details; Mole’s path would leave traces. By tracing them, Raven could deduce what he needed. Where cameras failed, this was his method to extract truth from any scene.

Finally, he tore out the pages, slowly arranging them on the floor. A thick black line connected them all, ending right here on this floor. Had Doctor Bai Ya been present, she’d have recognized it instantly: Mole’s exact escape route, perfectly mapped.

But… here his reconstruction stopped. At this point, possibilities diverged. With the data he had, he couldn’t determine which path was real.

Bai Ya’s records were top-secret within the Organization. Most members didn’t even know she existed—a silent protection. From what Raven had seen, her abilities couldn’t handle fine control. Dominating powerful Essences left no energy for precision.

Strangest of all: Mole hadn’t fought back. He’d stood still, as if waiting for death, impaled without struggle.

"Results yet?" The man’s voice broke the silence after a long pause.

"Not yet. But—"

"By the way, was the traitor dealt with?" The man cut him off abruptly.

"Affirmative. Nearly caught by the Force, but just small fry." Raven’s delay here was for cleanup. The monster had been deliberately released—no creature could escape the Organization’s facilities otherwise.

Members joined for profit. Traitors were inevitable. But the Organization never forgave them. Raven handled such shadows often.

"Clean the scene. Ignore the Force." The man snorted, then hung up.

"Understood." Raven pocketed his phone. They’d reached their own conclusion—no need for his deduction. He lifted his head slightly and removed his mask.

The moment it came off, his form crumpled—or rather, the cloak collapsed. Countless ravens erupted from within. One seized the cloak in its beak; the rest swarmed over Mole’s body, shrouding it completely.

Minutes later, as the ravens flapped back into the cloak, a humanoid shape reformed beneath the fabric. But no one would call it human. Pitch-black, faceless, devoid of detail—a mere silhouette of darkness.

The shadow bent, retrieved the fallen mask, and tucked every exposed inch back under cloth, restoring its original guise.

Raven glanced back. Mole’s body had vanished entirely—not even bones remained. Only bloodstains marked the floor. Phone in hand, he typed a message while walking toward the exit.

Cleanup was no longer his duty. Specialists would restore the scene. The underground lab, however, was compromised. Even if the Force didn’t investigate, the Organization would abandon this exposed outpost.

Before he reached the mall entrance, his phone rang again. No number displayed.

"Raven here."

"Finish up and return immediately." The same man’s voice.

"A rotation?" Raven frowned. Assignments were usually fixed-term, and this felt premature.

"No. An audit. ‘Phantom’ is en route. Suspend operations."

"Understood. I’ll return promptly."

*Him… and Phantom?* This would be troublesome.

*No matter. Time to head back.* He hadn’t seen Headquarters in a while. He wondered if the scenery there remained unchanged.