Chapter 290: The Coastal Death Towers

Guangdong Province.

As the province with the longest coastline in the country, the night when the Blood Moon descended became the most agonizing, unbearable, and despair-filled night for every studio along the coast.

In reality, the neon lights and reinforced concrete cities blocked most of the Blood Moon’s glow outside the urban skyline. Some men and women even gathered along the shorelines, admiring the rare spectacle of the Blood Moon.

But inside the world of 《spirit realm》, the race between life and death had already begun at six in the evening.

Coastal towns, villages, and cities all stared at the enormous Blood Moon hanging over the sea. Its vivid crimson light created an indescribable sense of pressure.

At some unknown moment, fog began to rise from the ocean.

Under the Blood Moon, the mist gradually turned blood-red and crept toward the shore.

Patches of blood fog advanced inland, spreading into villages and cities like living crimson capillaries, rapidly extending toward the mainland and flowing along rivers deeper into the docks.

When the blood fog invaded, the docks were the first to suffer.

Dock halls.

Family estates.

Martial Artists were slaughtered within the fog.

The mist churned violently, filled with the chilling sounds of tearing flesh and gnawing jaws.

In every studio office, managers stared at their screens as account deletion notices surged one after another. Alarm warnings rang faster and faster.

Their faces were drained of all color.

“It’s over.”

“It’s all over!”

“Two years of effort—gone in a single night.”

After reporting the studio’s losses to his boss over the phone, one studio manager slowly climbed to the rooftop.

Under the Blood Moon, he dropped straight down like a fledgling eagle that had never learned to fly.

A police vehicle screeched to a stop nearby.

Police robots silently descended to deal with the aftermath.

Studios located along inland rivers suffered considerable losses, but compared to the devastation of the coastal studios, it was almost negligible.

…

Warring States Studio, 75th Floor.

Su Wan watched the Blood Moon outside gradually fading back into an ordinary full moon. The phone in her palm continued transmitting internal intelligence reports.

“You… prepare yourself.”

“The coastal regions suffered massive losses this time… the higher authorities have already informed the major studios…”

“…They need order restored as soon as possible.”

“So the decision is…”

“Follow the order.”

Su Wan’s face turned pale.

“Yes.”

“Su Wan acknowledges.”

After hanging up the phone, Su Wan collapsed beside the floor-to-ceiling window. A tear slid down her cheek in a fragile arc.

Moonlight fell across the lonely curve of her face.

At that moment, Su Wan seemed particularly small and helpless.

Outside the window, the moon gradually returned to a pure white glow, and the crimson hue over the city faded away.

After some time, the faint light of dawn appeared on the horizon.

The moon disappeared completely.

The strange oppressive feeling lingering in the air also vanished with the rising sun.

Knock. Knock.

A knock sounded on the door.

The office lighting switched to daytime brightness.

Su Wan wiped away her tears, stood quickly, and straightened her clothes.

“Come in.”

The person who entered was Bai Jingtang.

She seemed to notice something and quietly closed the door behind her. Her gaze settled on Su Wan’s face.

“The boss called me. He said I should go independent and take a new license.”

“I know.”

Su Wan took a deep breath, crossing her arms with a cool expression.

“The Gold-Farming Team just lost twenty-three people, and now they’re transferring you, our main pillar, out as well. How is Warring States Studio supposed to keep operating?”

Bai Jingtang sighed.

“The coastal losses this time were severe. I heard from the boss that more than a dozen studio managers jumped off buildings because they could not accept the losses caused by the Blood Moon Incident.”

Su Wan turned away, her voice trembling slightly.

“They failed to recognize how serious the Blood Moon Incident was. Their personnel were concentrated near coastal docks. When the disaster struck, the studio members had no ability to resist and no chance to escape. Entire teams were wiped out in a short time.”

“If their deaths looked anything like the ones in our Gold-Farming Team… then an entire office building would become a death tower, leaving only the manager alive.”

“Someone like that might as well be dead already.”

Su Wan lowered her head, her eyes hidden in the shadow of her hair.

Bai Jingtang paused for several seconds before speaking again.

“Your call came just in time. At least Warring States Studio did not suffer major casualties this time.”

“That was thanks to Helm Leader Su. Without his warning, the hundred-plus people in the Huishui County hall would never have survived. We might have lost nearly two hundred people.”

Su Wan raised her head stubbornly, refusing to take credit.

“I asked the managers of the Tianxia and Black Leopard studios. Their losses were far greater. Their Gold-Farming Teams lost about twice as many people as ours. Their exploration teams stayed with you in the prefectural city and were safe, but several reserve team members still died.”

Bai Jingtang sighed.

“Tianxia Studio and Black Leopard Studio both entered the game earlier than most. Even they suffered heavy losses. You can imagine how the other studios fared. This time… the authorities probably will not be able to suppress the situation.”

“Let the government worry about that. I already have enough headaches.”

Su Wan rubbed her temples again and said to Bai Jingtang,

“How many people do you have now?”

“The license and facility promised to you will probably be one of those death towers along the coast. But the authorities require you to personally oversee operations there. Are you sure you can handle it?”

“I’m used to it,” Bai Jingtang replied calmly.

“The car will arrive at ten.”

“Who will be your supervisor?” Su Wan asked.

“I don’t know. Probably someone from the same place you came from.”

Bai Jingtang blinked.

“I thought everyone from that place had already reached the Third Rank.”

Su Wan laughed softly at herself, then took a deep breath and walked over to Bai Jingtang, extending her hand.

“Captain Bai leaving to become a boss in a coastal city—don’t forget little Su.”

“Take care of Yuhui for me,” Bai Jingtang said.

Su Wan smiled and nodded.

“I will.”

Anyone under Su Wangchuan’s command would naturally be safest.

Bai Jingtang looked directly into Su Wan’s eyes.

“He called me earlier. He said he plans to leave the Sanjiang Branch Helm and go to Heilong County to take over the Yulong Gang dock hall. I worry that he is still too young and lacks experience in the Jianghu.”

“I know.”

Su Wan’s eyes turned slightly, a meaningful smile appearing on her face.

“Leave it to me. I will do everything I can to help him secure the Heilong County dock hall.”

“Whether he can firmly control Heilong County does not concern me. I only want him to stay safe.”

Bai Jingtang emphasized the words.

“So try not to interfere in the affairs over there. Let him and Su Wangchuan handle it.”

“Oh?”

Su Wan immediately made a wounded expression.

“Captain Bai, you don’t trust me.”

“I understand your ability and your dedication to the studio. The only person I care about is Bai Yuhui. He must not come to harm. Leave Heilong County to Bai Yuhui and Wangchuan. Do not get involved.”

Bai Jingtang repeated her request.

Su Wan sighed helplessly.

“Fine, fine. I understand.”

“You really are obsessed with protecting your little brother.”