Chapter 435 - 331: Superpower Management Bureau and Generous Benefits

A gentle night breeze swept by, feeling like soft velvet against the skin.

Wei Song leaned against a waist-high rock, a chill seeping into his back as he stared calmly ahead.

The warm current in his chest continued to circulate slowly, like a Miniature Sun slumbering within him. It radiated a steady warmth that drove away the chill of the wilderness.

Nearby, beside a patch of overgrown weeds, the thirty-seven survivors huddled together.

The night wind carried away their sobs and whispers, blurring the sounds until they were indistinct.

Some curled into a ball, hugging their knees, their shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Others leaned on one another, using the moonlight to examine their scrapes.

Several of the older ones were pale-faced with vacant stares, still trapped in the terror of what had just happened.

Every few seconds, one of them would steal a glance toward Wei Song, their expressions a complex, unreadable mixture.

There was gratitude for their survival, awe in the face of a Superpower, and a hint of instinctual distance.

After all, Wei Song had just calmly killed nine people right before their eyes.

Even though they were Cultists, the act of killing itself was enough to terrify an ordinary person.

Wei Song withdrew his gaze and waited quietly for the authorities to arrive.

Nine Cultist corpses, a destroyed altar, and thirty-seven victims—this was no small matter.

And he, a newly awakened Superpower User, was at the very center of it all.

HUMMM...

The roar of an engine sounded in the distance, growing closer and tearing through the silence of the wilderness.

Wei Song looked up to see three black SUVs speeding toward them from the direction of the city.

Their headlights sliced through the darkness, casting long beams of light across the bumpy wasteland.

They were moving fast, kicking up a trail of dust before coming to a stop about fifty meters from the crowd.

The doors opened and a dozen or so people got out, their movements efficient and their roles clearly defined.

Most of them wore dark gray uniforms with identical silver badges pinned to their chests.

Wei Song’s eyes narrowed. In the glare of the headlights, he could make out the design: an eagle with outstretched wings, its talons clutching a ball of fire.

The man in the lead was middle-aged, with a buzz cut, a square jaw, thick eyebrows, and eyes as sharp as blades.

He wore the same dark gray uniform, but his epaulets were a different style, and his badge was ringed with a faint gold pattern.

As soon as the middle-aged man stepped out of the vehicle, his eyes swept across the scene.

His gaze flickered over the thirty-seven survivors, passed over the collapsed entrance to the underground chamber, and finally locked onto the nine black-robed corpses scattered haphazardly on the ground.

He looked surprised. "A Level Two Cult Steward?"

Despite the dim light, he could clearly see the wounds on the black-robed corpses.

Charred, smooth-edged holes were burned into their foreheads, as if they had been instantly carbonized by intense heat.

A faint odor, like scorched meat, still lingered in the air.

The middle-aged man took a deep breath, suppressing the shock in his eyes. His gaze shifted to Wei Song, who was still by the rock, and he strode over.

He stopped three paces from Wei Song.

"I’m Zhou Zhen, leader of Squad Three of the Jiangzhou City Superpower Management Bureau."

After this brief introduction, Zhou Zhen’s eyes lingered on Wei Song’s face, studying him.

"You... saved all these people?"

"Yes."

Wei Song surreptitiously sized him up. Zhou Zhen had broad, thick palms, large knuckles, and several small scars on the backs of his hands.

Zhou Zhen paid no mind to Wei Song’s wariness. He turned and gestured to the people behind him.

"Medical team, check the survivors, then get their addresses and a list of anyone they’ve been in contact with."

"Tech team, go down and survey the site. Take photos, and collect all residual Energy traces, especially from the altar fragments."

"Stay sharp. There might be untriggered Evil Technique traps down there."

As soon as the orders were given, the team sprang into action.

Four medics hurried over to the survivors and began gently questioning and examining them.

The other six, equipped with various instruments and flashlights, cautiously entered the underground passage.

They moved with professional and impressive efficiency.

Zhou Zhen didn’t go down with them. He remained where he was, his gaze sweeping over the survivors as he listened to their disjointed accounts.

"It was that young guy... L-light shot out of his hands..."

"Yeah, like a little sun! It was so bright, and so hot..."

"He blew up the altar in one shot, and then... then the guys in the black robes just... collapsed..."

"It was too fast. We couldn’t really see what happened..."

The voices were a chaotic jumble, filled with the excitement and terror of their narrow escape.

But the core of their stories was clear: the young man outside had conjured a "white bomb" with his bare hands and destroyed the altar.

Then he killed the nine Cultists.

Zhou Zhen listened, his expression unchanging, but the questions in his eyes deepened.

He turned and looked at Wei Song again, his gaze now holding something more.

"Your Superpower... it just awakened?"

Zhou Zhen kept his voice low, so that only the two of them could hear.

Wei Song nodded in acknowledgment. There was no reason to hide it.

"It awakened suddenly, right as I was about to be sacrificed."

Zhou Zhen’s eyes narrowed. He fell silent for a moment.

The night wind blew between them, carrying the earthy scent of the wilderness.

In the distance, the city lights formed a glittering expanse, like a galaxy fallen to earth.

’A Level One Superpower User could so cleanly kill a Level Two Cultist?’ Zhou Zhen was inwardly shaken.

’And just a few hours ago, this was an ordinary person with "no Superpower Talent."’

’Awakening a Superpower in a desperate situation... there have been cases like that before. It’s just, this guy’s strength...’

Zhou Zhen took a deep breath and pulled a silver badge from his jacket.

The badge was similar in style to the one on his chest, only smaller and without the gold trim.

He held the badge out to Wei Song, managing a faint smile.