Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

Renault's prosthetic eye flashed red, a sign that combat mode was activated: "Then let's not keep them waiting too long. Let them rest for ten minutes, and then we'll go say hello."

He turned and yelled at the support team that had just passed through the Gates of Hell: "Did you hear me? Ten minutes! Check your equipment, replenish your ammo, and then we're going to give our neighbors in Hell a 'housewarming' gift!"

His response was a synchronized, murderous growl from two hundred witchers.

Under the crimson sky of hell, humanity's defenses are becoming stronger, but the war has only just begun.

The Witcher Guild, Conference Center.

More than twenty people sat around the huge circular tactical table. In addition to core members such as Wu Heng, Dean, Sam, Bobby, and Castio, there were also regional heads and seven newly appointed expert advisors.

The holographic projection rotates in the center of the table, displaying the real-time status of the equilibrium field, the construction progress of the Hell Defense Line, and a global heat map of supernatural activities.

"The balanced field is operating stably. In the past two days, a total of seventeen infiltration attempts have been marked and dealt with, including nine by angels and eight by demons," the commander in charge of field monitoring reported. "As for the Hell Defense Line, a safe zone with a radius of five kilometers has been initially established. Three medium-sized demon attacks have been repelled, and casualties have been kept below 3%."

Wu Heng nodded: "Continue to strengthen the defenses, but be careful not to over-expand. Our focus should still be on the field itself, which is not only a defensive barrier but also a screening net."

He pulled up another set of data: "According to the analysis of global anomalies by 'Internet addiction,' the interference of the apocalypse is accelerating."

"The frequency of supernatural activities in various regions has increased by 40% year-on-year, and the number of serious incidents has increased. Both Heaven and Hell are stepping up their efforts to recruit and convert agents. Our passive defense is not enough."

Dean tapped the table lightly with the tip of his dagger: "So we're going to take the initiative? Go around causing trouble all over the world like before?"

“It’s about finding allies,” Sam continued, pulling up a list for projection. “The Witcher Guild can’t grow stronger on its own.”

"There are many special individuals in the world who operate independently and in seclusion: witches, mediums, exorcists, people with supernatural abilities, and even some neutral supernatural groups. If the Apocalypse were to erupt in full force, they would be the objects of contention and could also become our strength."

The list contains dozens of names, each accompanied by brief information and an assessment.

“Separate searches are too inefficient. I suggest we split up and search in groups.” Bobby stroked his chin. “I know a few old guys, they might be a bit eccentric, but they’re really capable. Castio should be able to contact some angels who are dissatisfied with the current state of Heaven?”

Castio nodded slightly: "I have two friends who are unhappy with Raphael's radical policies, but they are still observing. I can try to reach out to them."

The meeting quickly finalized the action plan.

Dean, Sam, Bobby, Castio, and seventeen other officials will temporarily leave the front lines to search for potential recruits.

The guild's intelligence network and internet addiction system will provide them with real-time support.

“Remember,” Wu Heng emphasized at the end of the meeting, “we are not forcing them, but inviting them to see that the Witcher Guild helps humanity and that we can take control of our own destiny.”

After the meeting, the operation began.

Dean was the first to set off, driving his well-maintained Impala.

His target was number three on the list: the blacksmith Grayson.

According to the information, he is an old craftsman who lives in seclusion in the mountains of Wyoming. He is skilled in forging demon-hunting weapons and is especially proficient in silverware processing that is effective against demons. There are rumors that his ancestors once made weapons for a famous demon-hunting family.

They even copied the 'Demon-Eating Gun', which could kill demons.

“This old guy is probably going to be tough,” Dean complained to Sam before they set off. “Good cooks are often temperamental.”

Sam's target was a New York-based psychic group called "Midnight Voices".

They were renowned in the underworld for their accurate precognition and psychic abilities, but they remained neutral, never intervening in any supernatural conflicts. "I think they might have access to information channels we don't know about," Sam said, staring at the files.

Bobby had originally planned to go to Louisiana to find a family of swamp witches, but he changed his mind the night before he was to leave.

Because he suddenly discovered a new file.

The name on the file is: Card Traveler.

There are no photos, only a vague description: a wandering wizard who appears in unpredictable locations and can change the lifespan of some people. There are even multiple records of ordinary people and supernatural beings aging or dying rapidly after contact with him, leading to suspicions that he can control human lifespan.

Danger level: High.

Bobby looked at the file thoughtfully.

This old guy of his... looking at Dean, Sam, and those young guys injected with the demon potion, they can run, jump, and go head-to-head with demons, while what about him? He still has to hide behind cover and shoot.

Bobby muttered to himself, "I'm not jealous, I just don't want to be a burden."

If the Apocalypse truly erupts to the point of world destruction, he wants to stand on the front lines, not because he is old and needs to be protected in the back.

A day later, Dean found the blacksmith Grayson.

The old man lived in a wooden house halfway up the mountain. Next to the house was a simple forging workshop. When Dean approached, Grayson was shirtless, sweating profusely as he hammered a piece of red-hot metal.

He looked to be in his seventies, but his muscles were as firm as a young man's, and every strike he made was precise and powerful.

“Mr. Grayson?” Dean stood at the workshop entrance, not daring to enter rashly. The old witcher’s experience told him that such places were often covered with protective spells.

The old man didn't even look up: "If you're here to buy a knife, pick one from the shelf yourself, the prices are clearly marked. If you're here to chat, I'm busy, so get lost."

“I am Dean Winchester, from the Witcher Guild.”

The pounding stopped.

Grayson put down the hammer, picked up the shaped blade with pliers, and dipped it into the water tank, making a sizzling sound and releasing a lot of steam.

He turned around, his sharp blue eyes scrutinizing Dean.

"Winchester John's son?"

"You know my father?"

“I’ve dealt with him before.” Grayson wiped his hands with a rag. “He came once and commissioned a dagger that could harm low-level demons. He used materials he got from the remains of an angel. The craftsmanship wasn’t difficult, but the problem was the residual holy light when he was processing the materials. It almost blew up my workshop.”

Dean laughed; the story sounded just like his father's.

The two entered the house, and Dean explained his purpose.

Grayson listened quietly, occasionally taking a puff of his rolled cigarette.

"So you built a huge operation, keeping angels and demons out, and now you want to recruit me?" The old man exhaled a puff of smoke. "What would I get in return?" (End of Chapter)