Deep within the pitch-black mine, the suffocating stench and heat clung stubbornly to the air. What was once a disaster site frozen in deathly silence now pulsed with an eerie rhythm. Colorless, crystalline light expanded steadily, then retreated—a slow, deliberate breath. Within it brewed an aura of utter malevolence, the very seed of calamity. True calamity. The nascent form of a Dire Calamity, an entity kept under Jigsaw Sect’s tight surveillance.
Suddenly, crimson light flickered through the gloom. Where moments before the tunnel had seemed empty, phantom figures materialized. They solidified from mist into reality. First to step through was Lu Xiu, her trench coat flung open, face sharp with cold arrogance. Beneath her boot, a bloodied man groaned weakly, his swollen, bruised face a testament to her brutality.
Notably, after absorbing the Mirror Flower Node’s power from Mirror October, Lu Xiu’s minimalist black coat had transformed. It now blazed with jagged crimson cracks—nearly identical to Mirror October’s own, yet radiating a fiercer, wilder red that mirrored her solitary pride. Even her appearance shifted: her high ponytail framed eyes tinged with unnatural red at the corners, lending her a chilling, almost demonic allure.
Next to manifest was a grotesque figure covered in stitched seams, dragging a near-lifeless body like a sack of meat. This was Disciple Dragon Sparrow’s true form—a horrifying contrast to his usual sunny, playboy facade.
“Phantom Wraith,” Dragon Sparrow rasped, “is this the target?”
*Phantom Wraith*—Lu Xiu’s codename in the Jigsaw Sect. A ghostly rider who swept through mountains like mist, she’d earned universal respect not through strength, but through recognition. Respect for a former adversary who’d clashed with the Sect time and again, yet endured until the end. No one in the Jigsaw Sect failed to honor such a formidable ally. Even Mirror October believed Lu Xiu’s value surpassed all expectations.
“Yeah. Got a little restless. Had to rough him up.” She kicked the groaning man beneath her boot. Accustomed to luxury, he wailed in fresh agony—until Lu Xiu’s icy glare silenced him into muffled whimpers.
“Heh. Hope Saw doesn’t punish me for this, Dragon Sparrow?” She suddenly remembered her boss and shifted her foot guiltily. Having finally broken free from the “hero” shackles, she’d indulged in a little… excess. Getting punished by Mirror October over this would be embarrassing.
*Unless it’s* that *kind of punishment…* Lu Xiu’s sharp, solitary features flickered with anticipation as she stared at Dragon Sparrow, leaving him utterly baffled. Truth was, as long as they didn’t kill outright, the Jigsaw Sect rarely questioned how they handled scum like this. Yet indulging in cruelty still clashed with the Sect’s core ideals. Dragon Sparrow hesitated, unsure how to answer.
“I don’t mind you venting pent-up emotions during missions,” a calm voice cut through the crimson haze. Mirror October stepped forward, mask removed, his gaze briefly sweeping over Lu Xiu. “But if you take pleasure in it? That’s a fundamental error in principle.”
“After all,” he added softly, placing the semi-conscious Wu Jianguo on the mine floor, “nothing is more precious than life.”
*Yet nothing is cheaper either.*
His eyes locked onto the pulsing crystalline light deep within the mine. Lu Xiu and Dragon Sparrow, having disposed of their own targets, frowned in unison at the same sight.
*A Dire Calamity!*
Hidden from the world, buried under the Jigsaw Sect’s deliberate secrecy, this mine cradled an unstable Dire Calamity. If exposed, it would ignite global chaos. Humanity’s ancient enemy. Nature’s wrath. The Dire Calamity had always been met with one response: annihilation.
“About time,” Mirror October murmured. His slender fingers interlaced as his narrow, crimson eyes narrowed, sensing the newborn calamity’s eagerness to break free.
“Based on the energy fluctuations I’ve tracked,” Dragon Sparrow said quietly, his stitched face grim, “it’ll fully manifest tonight. The first Dire Calamity… born from human hands.” He sighed heavily, as if staring into Pandora’s Box slowly creaking open.
Meanwhile, Wu Jianguo—still conscious on the ground—felt a wave of icy hatred wash over him. Even unformed, the Dire Calamity’s core radiated pure, undilutable malice. A silent, venomous roar that chilled him to the bone. Such soul-deep despair was almost… moving.
Wu Jianguo forced his eyes open. Above him loomed a face he knew well: oily hair, pampered skin, once a pillar of authority. Now it was a grotesque canvas of bruises—purple, blue, swollen red. Pathetic. Laughable.
But Wu Jianguo couldn’t laugh. This man had been his white-collar protector. Their last conversation echoed in his mind:
*“Still here, Xiao Wu? Something urgent?” The man had yawned, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry, old age catches up. Been swamped with meetings… and the higher-ups are watching closely these days.”*
*“Ah, Director Wang! I’m the one who should apologize for disturbing your rest!”*
*“Hah. Smooth talker. Out with it—what’s got you so worked up? With me here, no need to panic.”*
*“Well… I dabble in small, unregistered coal mines. Good profits. But last month… one collapsed. I got nervous. Needed your help smoothing things over.”*
*“Oh? How many didn’t make it out?”*
*“Just a dozen or so. Mostly undocumented workers—‘not even human’ in their eyes. I’ve handled the families. Kept them quiet, away from the authorities.”*
*“Good. Trivial matter. I’ll make a call. Let the dead stay buried.”*
*They stayed buried…*
*But we came down.*
