Though hard to believe, Lai Yingxin and Qu Yi still chose to trust Ye Thirteen’s words.

Han Xiangxue offered no support for Ye Thirteen’s absurd claim—but she didn’t oppose Lai Yingxin reporting it upward either.

At headquarters, Director Huang Ying’s brows instantly knitted into a deep furrow upon receiving the report.

If it were any other third-tier Patrol Squad member, she might not have cared.

But this was Sector 069’s Patrol Squad—she had to take it seriously.

After all, that team included not only the daughter of City C’s mayor and Guardian Qu’s granddaughter, but another girl of no ordinary background.

Who knew if those three carried some advanced magical-energy device capable of detecting hidden anomalies?

Seeing the staff growing lax, Huang Ying stood abruptly and snapped:

“It’s too early to rest! No one sleeps tonight—we’re pulling an all-nighter!

Director Chen, monitor the city’s energy fluctuations closely. At the first sign of anomaly—"

Before she could finish, Director Chen, eyes locked on his screen, suddenly shouted:

“Director Huang—you noticed it too?!”

Huang Ying: ???

*What did I notice?*

She snapped back, strode over, and slapped his desk. “What’s happening?!”

Chen adjusted his glasses, voice trembling with excitement:

“This time is different! Normally, after a Micro Sky Rift vanishes, the energy peak subsides. Not now!

The fluctuations keep surging even after the rift disappeared!

I was puzzled—but your warning made it clear: tonight’s energy tide won’t trigger just one Micro Sky Rift. It’ll erupt *multiple times*!”

He rapidly copied all data, eyes blazing with scholarly fervor.

Huang Ying smacked his head. “Laugh? This is serious trouble!”

Others froze, faces paling.

If true—Patrol Squads would face repeated battles.

Even Demonhunters tire. Without rest, their strength wanes. Next encounter? They might not survive.

Chen murmured nervously: “Director… it should be fine. Imperial Capital confirmed: three Soldier-Class squads are en route. Two hours if fast, three at most.”

(A flight from Imperial Capital to Southgate Garrison takes under two hours. One hour to mobilize—surely enough?)

Huang Ying nodded gravely. “Hold out three hours. Contact every Patrol Squad post-battle: ask if they need rotation or rest. If needed, we’ll send reinforcements.”

As City C Patrol HQ, they had High-tier Demonhunters on staff—like Huang Ying herself, a Soldier-Class Demonhunter. She could cover one, even two adjacent sectors.

“Yes, Director!”

Orders flew. Warnings relayed.

***

Meanwhile, deep in a standalone building in downtown Sector 069, three shadowy figures grew restless.

“Damn it! How can Dragon Realm’s Southgate Garrison handle this so perfectly?!”

“Should’ve picked another city for the disaster!”

“Idiot! Without the monster siege as cover, triggering the energy tide means nothing! Lord The Fool’s prophecy specified *only* Southgate Garrison would face the siege!”

“What did you say?!”

“Wanna challenge me?”

“Damn it! I’ll kill you!”

“Bring it on!”

“STOP IT!”

The clown-masked man’s icy glare froze the brawling pair.

From their words—it was *them* who triggered the energy tide.

Silence hung thick before he spoke, voice glacial:

“The Empire’s signal jammer blocks eavesdropping—but watch your tongues.”

The tattooed, bald giant muttered: “Prettyland is the greatest nation. Our tech dwarfs Dragon Realm’s. What’s to fear…”

Across from him, the sharp-suited man with slicked-back hair smirked dismissively—

—until one of the giant’s ears vanished.

Stunned, he heard the clown-masked man’s whisper:

“Did no one tell you? *Never* reveal our origins. Do you wish to ignite war with Dragon Realm?

The mission may fail. But our identities *must* stay secret.

If you can’t keep quiet… I’ll silence you.”

Killing intent thickened the air. Both men stiffened into silence.

Ignoring the blood dripping from his stump, the tattooed giant clenched his teeth, gulped a potion, and crouched in shadow.

The clown-masked man turned to the suited man, blood-dripping fruit knife glinting. “Your task?”

Eyes flicking to the blade, the man replied instantly:

“Handled personally. Bomb’s set. One trigger—and that 66-meter office tower becomes dust.”