Sometimes, when a person dies, they're just gone—dead and done.
But sometimes, even after they die, you can still scrape the bones, drain the marrow, and dig them up from the grave to squeeze out every last drop of value.
Clearly, Mo Chen belonged to the second category.
He walked up to the unrecognizable heap of remains, stretched out his hand, and the mass of flesh seemed to be pulled by some mysterious force. It disintegrated into powder, reduced to its most basic cellular form, and flew into his palm.
It was the Blacklight Virus devouring ability!
By devouring humans, it could boost his own strength and level, while also extracting the target's skills, thoughts, memories, and consciousness.
Burningum stood far off, keeping his gaze averted.
Under these circumstances, he knew to keep his distance.
A minute later, Mo Chen opened his eyes.
The terrorist's mind had been full of delusional slogans like "glorious future" and "honor of humanity"—noble-sounding words born of brainwashing. No different from some deranged netizen ranting online.
His level wasn't even high, just a low-tier squad leader. He didn't even know any of the mid-to-upper-tier members. Everything operated through single-line connections.
That made Mo Chen curious.
Not even knowing who your bosses are, and still willing to die for them? Was he brain-damaged or just plain stupid?
What, did he never receive nine years of compulsory education?
Oh, right: there is no compulsory education here. Never mind then.
Still, Mo Chen managed to scrape out a bit of usable intel from that trash heap.
Turns out Heavenly Ascension had been actively gathering funds.
They were clearly up to something big. Otherwise, why would they need so much cash?
The amount Heavenly Ascension had raked in could fund upper brass to wash their feet and wipe their asses daily from now until a hundred years after humanity's extinction.
"Let's go."
Mo Chen waved his hand. The prison was damp, musty, and underground—it felt like a basement, and for someone with hyper-sensitive senses like him, it was especially unpleasant.
"Yes, sir."
Burningum quietly followed.
"Oh right," Mo Chen suddenly remembered something. "You said external units helped out, right? Who was it—Maiden?"
Burningum didn't expect that question. He was surprised the major general even remembered a minor Nikke's name. But he quickly replied, "Yes. As far as I know, the external support did include a Nikke named Maiden."
"Mm."
Mo Chen nodded and said no more, heading out.
Not long after leaving the prison, Mo Chen received word from Andersen: due to the scale of the incident, Anik had approved his funding request and granted him full command authority.
As expected. The Ark needed more than just cost-cutting now—it needed revenue generation.
Otherwise, this pitiful pool of resources wasn't going to last long.
On his way back, the streets were unusually quiet. Dim lights flickered above, and the artificial sky—projected onto giant screens overhead—glitched a few times. In this underground Ark, the illusion of day and night was all handled through screens.
Something about this silence wasn't right.
Mo Chen noticed it immediately.
There were people hiding.
Sure enough, the moment he rounded a corner, someone had already leveled an RPG at him.
Damn.
That was the standard issue for dealing with Tyrant-class Raptures.
And looking closely—it wasn't a human holding it, but a Nikke.
But this Nikke had glowing red eyes, an unnaturally twisted body, pieced together like a patchwork of junk parts. Judging from her build, she wasn't from the Ark. She had likely been sold off to the black market.
On her body, hidden among the scars and plating, was a small symbol—the mark of Heavenly Ascension.
Besides her, Mo Chen spotted several other figures nearby. They were human, armed with various weapons and carrying bomb packs.
Bomb packs, clearly not for a school trip.
There was only one reason they'd be here: to blow him up.
Mo Chen sighed. Wasteful.
No wonder Heavenly Ascension was always short on money. Burning through resources like this? Of course you're broke.
Maybe he should help them cut down on costs.
After all, dead people don't need rations.
Just as he was about to make his move and wipe them all out, a piercing sonic pulse rang out unexpectedly. The terrorists holding RPGs froze in place, like someone had cast Petrify on them.
"Freeze!"
Their fingers were on the trigger, but they couldn't press down.
That voice—Mo Chen narrowed his eyes and turned toward the shadows.
A figure stepped out, quickly approaching.
"Sleep."
With the voice of the approaching figure, the Nikke holding the RPG swayed and collapsed. Almost simultaneously, all the terrorists hidden in the corners followed suit, dropping to the ground like felled trees, their snores rising as if they had truly fallen asleep.
And under the dim, flickering streetlights, the figure finally stepped into view.
Her hair was smooth and silky, black and glossy, cascading straight down to her waist. Strands fell softly on either side of her face, adding a touch of grace and charm. Her face was concealed behind a black mask, revealing only a pair of radiant eyes.
Her tight-fitting top hugged her curves perfectly, outlining a flawless silhouette. The red accents and gold trim on the outfit added a regal flair. Her pants, also black, were subtly accented with red and gold at the hems, matching her top with elegant symmetry.
On her feet were knee-high black boots, adorned with golden embellishments that gleamed faintly under the dim lights, adding a hint of mystery. The snug fit around her calves only made her appear more agile and powerful.
It was Maiden.
"Commander, are—are you alright!?"
Maiden rushed over in a flurry, only relaxing when she saw that Mo Chen was unscathed.
Seeing how flustered she was, Mo Chen immediately understood she hadn't just happened to be nearby—she had been tailing him all along. He smiled and said, "Thanks, Maiden."
"You… you remembered my name?"
Maiden's eyes widened like she had just witnessed a miracle.
Mo Chen blinked in confusion. "Yeah. Didn't we meet before?"
Back during the operation against Secret Material H and a few other missions, he had run into her. They hadn't talked much, but they'd exchanged a few words. And besides, in the game, he'd used her character plenty of times.
But the moment she heard his response, Maiden turned away—and tears started rolling down her cheeks.
Mo Chen was dumbfounded.
What's with Maiden? He… didn't think he'd said anything wrong?
And she was crying now?