Returning to the Mysterious Era

"Grr…" A low growl rumbled from Number Four's throat. His heavy steps left deep pits in the ground with each stomp, cement fragments flying haphazardly as his massive body charged forward.

The enormous battle axe, nearly 1.7 meters long, swung terrifyingly, its sharp edge slicing through the air, and parting the thick mist.

"Your power is impressive, but you're too slow." Soro stood still, in his jeans. He didn't seem to be taking Number Four seriously at all, simply watching the hulking figure charge forward. Then, a certain moment later, his eyes turned silver, emitting a radiant white glow.

"Psychokinesis, Rapid-Fire Engine!" Soro's right hand which was holding the gun blurred into motion. "Psychokinetic Shock Round! Psychokinetic Piercing Round! Psychokinetic Explosive Round! Psychokinetic Spinning Round!"

"…"

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!

It sounded like one giant gunshot had fired off when in reality, six bullets hit Number Four's muscular body, all at the same time, resulting in a flash of explosions.

Thud, thud, thud!

Number Four stumbled backward, each quick step creating cracks in the cement beneath him. He let out a grunt as a thin stream of blood trickled from the corner of his snarling mouth. In that instant, all six bullets exploded, unleashing a forceful barrage on Number Four's powerful body.

Moreover, each bullet had struck a different spot and was placed for maximum impact. The shock round hit his knee to destabilize him. The explosive round struck his hand to disarm him, and the piercing round targeted his throat, a vital spot for most creatures with necks.

Had it not been for the rich beast blood coursing through Number Four, making him far more resilient than ordinary beings, Soro's plan would have succeeded, and Number Four would have suffered more than just some light injuries.

"You should be proud of being able to take six of my bullets at once," Soro said calmly, his eyes returning to their normal state. The golden gun in his hand reverted to silver, and the glowing feather-like patterns on the barrel dimmed. With a tiny flick of his fingers, the cylinder clicked open. The next instance, it snapped shut again. Soro had reloaded at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye.

Number Four planted his battle axe into the ground and casually plucked a bullet fragment from his chest with his purplish-blue hand. "Heh, I can see you've got some skill, but you're dragging three weaklings along. Meanwhile, my squad has you surrounded."

The mist swirled behind him, and a dozen black-clad figures appeared on the cement road. They stared menacingly at Soro. The tension in the air thickened.

***

Goddamn it, just let me die already! The magician screamed internally, feeling as if his entire body was on the verge of collapse. His clothes were completely soaked with sweat; it was as if he were being roasted inside a massive furnace.

Too many… There were just too many steam golems!

He had lost count of the number of steam golems he had encountered. It was as if he had stirred up a nest of them. They kept spawning nearby, relentlessly pursuing him.

The magician had pushed his psychokinetic ability to the max. If his mental energy could be likened to a small stream, then that stream had already run dry. Yet, perhaps driven by his overwhelming will to survive, he had somehow managed to squeeze out just enough psychokinetic power to get by in several subsequent moments when he was in danger. It was rather miraculous.

In fact, while walking this razor-thin line between life and death, the magician felt his psychokinesis subtly improving, nearly on the verge of breaking through his previous limits. However, if given the choice, he would have much preferred to forgo this progress in exchange for simple, stable survival.

"Haah…"

A cold mist formed in the distance once again, and from within it emerged yet another steam golem, its red eyes glowing like searchlights.

"Another one!" the magician wailed and sprinted off again.

He stumbled out of the forest and into the wide, flat cement road and continued running toward the mountain lodge without stopping. Behind him, a figure came barreling through and smashed the golem into two, sending shattered pieces of debris raining down like a storm.

Cassius paused in the clearing, glancing at both sides as two more clouds of dark mist began to form. It was obvious that more steam golems would be coming out of them.

Something seemed to have shifted across the entire Anta Mountain range. Those pitiful imitations of Decaying Knights were being continuously created without any signs of stopping; their numbers were slightly startling. He had already destroyed at least twenty of them on his way over here.

If one took a bird's eye view of the whole Anta Mountain range, the number of steam golems wasn't actually that high. They were spawning along two winding parallel lines, coincidentally on the same path that the magician, Cassius, and the other were traveling on.

In other words, the steam golems were actually being drawn by the three's auras; specifically, Cassius's life force. If it had been the magician and Haisha, the two would have only drawn out one or two golems, at most. There was no way they would have encountered the thirty or forty as they had.

Cassius assumed the steam golems were a common occurrence, even though he was the one bringing the golems here. If the magician knew this, he would surely be "grateful" for Cassius repeatedly pushing him to the brink of death, helping him break through his psychokinetic bottlenecks. What a dramatic and heroic story that would make!

Bang!

The moment his foot lightly touched the ground, Cassius shot forward fast. His hand brushed against the trees to adjust his direction and in a flash, he appeared on the open road, his shoes stepping down on the hard cement. He effortlessly covered ten meters in a single bound.

Looking up at the sky, the scattered stars twinkled faintly, and the crescent moon hung like a white jade. Its gentle light draped over him as the cool evening breeze swept by, instilling a strange sense of peace within his heart.

Ahead, a black streetlamp stood dimly at the side of the road, barely illuminating the fallen leaves and few tufts of grass struggling to grow between the pavement cracks.

Cassius walked a few steps forward and then suddenly stopped. By the black streetlamp, near the edge of the woods, a long-haired man in a gray trench coat was leaning against a tree, tapping something in his hand. It looked like a silver pocket watch.

Cassius raised an eyebrow. The Anta Mountain range was crawling with steam golems that spawned at a staggering rate of almost one every hundred meters. Yet, this man was out for a stroll? Was he in a hurry to die?

Cassius casually dusted some debris off his hair and walked a few more steps forward before saying, "Hey, it's dangerous around here. You shouldn't hang around. By the way, do you know what time it is?"

Click.

The long-haired man snapped the silver watch shut.

"You have the scent of steam golem on you," he said as he straightened up. Tall and lanky, with deep-set features and a cool air, his black hair fell neatly over the collar of his coat. A cold breeze swept by, causing the tips of his hair to sway gently in the air.

Flashy. That was Cassius's first impression. There was an unmistakable tone of arrogance in the man's voice as if he was an aristocrat speaking down to a commoner.

Seeing Cassius remain silent, the long-haired man glanced at him again.

"Answer my question. You're just an ordinary human, so why do you have the aura of a golem on you?" His tone hadn't changed, and once again, he casually flipped open the silver pocket watch, glancing at the time.

Cassius chuckled coldly at the man's tone. "You haven't answered my question either. What time is it?"

"Hahaha!" Without warning, the long-haired man burst into laughter, as if amused that someone would speak to him that way. He was interested in this human. "If you want to know the time, why don't you come over and see for yourself?"

Cassius didn't respond. He simply walked over, all the while removing his newly bought black jacket.

"Why are you taking off your jacket?" the long-haired man asked, slightly curious.

"Oh, it's because I don't want to get it dirty. I quite like this jacket."

Boom!!!

A terrifying figure rose under the moonlight, its massive body bulging with veins like twisted wires. Its ivory-white muscles tensed, forming a natural armor that embodied raw power and grace. From a distance, it looked like a killing machine—an ivory-colored giant.

The giant held the small black jacket under his left arm. Like an ancient beast's shadow, the giant's silhouette completely engulfed the long-haired man, whose entire body was not even as thick as the giant's arm.

"I…" The long-haired man's eyes widened in shock.

Boom!

A powerful shockwave surged outward, sending the surrounding leaves rustling and shaking the ground as if a steamroller had just passed over it.

"Quite wealthy, aren't you? Wearing three rings like some sort of flashy nouveau riche," Cassius remarked, as he straightened and picked up the silver pocket watch from the ground. Its dial bore the image of a skull. "Quite a nice watch you have, but it's mine now."

With a click, he snapped the lid open like a shell. Inside, fine metal gears turned slowly, and the dull glow from the lamp in its yellow glass revealed the watch's intricate and precise craftsmanship. It was 10:20 p.m.

"Oh right, what did he ask me just now?" Cassius muttered to the still-twitching pile of flesh on the ground. He walked away, casually slipping his jacket back on.

Behind him, half of the concrete road had collapsed. Black spiderweb-like cracks stretched out for several meters in every direction and at the center of the fracture, a deep pit had formed where a mangled, bloodied mass lay within.

Nearby the manor, the fierce battle continued to rage. However, not counting the fallen corpses, a few people were no longer present on the battlefield. Soro's bold move earlier had allowed Ali and the other two to escape.

Only the fourth squad members of the White Skull remained on the road and surrounding Soro. More than a dozen capable neo-humans unleashed various abilities, relentlessly forcing Soro into the defense.

Whoosh!

A shadow streaked through the air and crashed into the ground with a thunderous roar. The heavy axe blade split the ground wide open, scattering chunks of rock that ricocheted off the tough material of Soro's jeans.

"Soro, all you ever do is dodge! Don't tell me you don't have the guts to face me head-on and take this axe?" the towering dog-headed figure bellowed.

"Then stand still and let me shoot a full volley of psychic rounds!" Soro lightly shifted, weaving through the onslaught like a graceful butterfly, his coat fluttering elegantly as he moved. Though he was at a disadvantage, he didn't seem overly troubled.

As he danced around, Soro's revolver rang out as each shot unleashed psychic-infused bullets. All of them had different functions but similar overwhelming power. At least three of the squad's four members had fallen to his rounds.

This was Soro's psychic "gun-fu," a blend of psychic energy, his unique footwork, and marksmanship of his own making. Every bullet could come from an unexpected angle, with trajectories that could even change course at the last second. A single shot was far more powerful than ordinary bullets. Furthermore, his shots were ever-changing and unpredictable, due to the various psychic effects' enhancements, which was why even though he was against multiple powerful opponents, Soro could still fight with ease. However, he remained cautious, knowing that he was only dealing with one captain-level figure and a small squad.

White Skull had also sent out at least two more captains, both ranked higher than the previous sixth captain. The fifth, fourth, and second captains were all stronger than the deceased sixth captain.

If any two of them teamed up, Soro would undoubtedly be defeated. Soro wasn't confident he could win in a one-on-one fight against the second captain. After all, Fallen Angel Miguel was second only to the head of the White Skull. Over the past decade, his notorious reputation had spread far and wide, with at least five recorded Class A neo-humans dying at his hands, and likely many more that were unrecorded.

He was known for his extreme bloodlust and terrifying strength. Five years ago, three Class A neo-humans had tried to ambush Miguel. He had killed one while severely injuring the remaining two. Soro felt his confidence waver in the face of such a powerful foe.

Silver Organization had also sent hidden experts for the Anta Mountain mission who were likely already making their move. Hopefully, they wouldn't encounter Fallen Angel Miguel.

After confirming the day before that the third captain who had been activated was Miguel, Soro had informed the organization who immediately sent more reinforcements. Unfortunately, they wouldn't arrive until the next morning.

"Haha, no need to hide it, I can see the worry in your eyes! The second captain has likely already begun slaughtering your Silver Organization ants. It won't be long before he…"

Suddenly, hurried footsteps from the mist on the right side of the road interrupted the fourth captain. Moments later, a half-feline, half-human figure appeared. A few seconds later, a disheveled magician rushed in behind her.

The two froze on the spot at the sight of the intense battle. The clock emblem on the arms of the black-clad figures stood out—it was the notorious White Skull!

The catwoman's head stiffly turned around, her gaze locking onto the towering figure of the fourth captain. “White Skull…Battle Axe Kuey Gang!”

"We're dead. We're really done for this time," the magician muttered to himself, his gaze empty. He, too, recognized the extreme neo-human group. It was clear what was going to happen to him. He would be silenced—forever.

Tap, tap, tap…

Another set of hurried footsteps came from the gray-black mist. A tall young man in a black jacket strode over, casually playing with the silver pocket watch in his hand. He glanced at both Soro and the White Skull members before his gaze finally settled on the magician.

"Hey, what's your name? I quite like you."