Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

The Witcher Guild's command center once again became a temporary war command post.

Three maps were spread out on the huge table: a panoramic view of Grantzpas, an architectural diagram of the Dick Roman Corporation headquarters, and a map showing the distribution of all known Leviathan infection sites marked in red.

The map is marked with flags of different colors: red represents confirmed Leviathan lairs, yellow represents suspected infected areas, and blue represents guild deployment points.

Sam stood by the table, holding a newly delivered monitoring report.

In the past 48 hours, the spread of Leviathan's infection has tripled, with pale yellow extracts detected not only in the city of Grantspass but also in the water supply systems of three neighboring towns.

The behavior patterns of the infected are also evolving, from initially being lethargic and compliant to organized resource collection. They move out in groups at night, looting pharmacies, chemical supply stores, and even hospital blood banks.

“They’re stockpiling raw materials to make more extracts.” Sam threw the report on the table. “Dick Roman’s company is just the surface; Leviathan has built a complete production chain underground.”

Renault looked up from another monitoring terminal: "Aerial reconnaissance has revealed a large-scale thermal reaction beneath Sulforth Hospital, which may be an incubator."

“We can’t attack directly.” Wu Heng’s voice came through the communicator. He was in the lab, but his voice was clear. “Leviathan’s main consciousness can jump between hosts at any time. If you kill one Dick Roman, it will immediately transfer to the next backup carrier. We must destroy all the core nodes in one blow and block its transfer path at the same time.”

Sam looked at the holographic projection on the tactical table, which was shimmering with light. It was the design blueprint for the Triple Bloodline Silver Blade.

The blade has been forged and is now being soaked in a special solution for final enchanting.

The three small containers beside it contained: Michael's pale gold blood sample, a tube of viscous black blood provided by Crowley, and the bright red blood donated by Sister Hannah and contained in the Holy Grail.

"How much longer until we get the weapons?" Sam asked.

“Twelve hours,” Wu Heng replied. “But another problem is more pressing—Casdio. Although his soul has returned, the memory barrier is too thick. I tried three mental resonances but couldn’t find him. We need a stronger external force.”

At that moment, Dean walked in from the doorway, his face showing the weariness of a long journey, but his eyes were shining: "I found him."

Everyone turned to look at him.

“The town is called ‘Cape of Tranquility,’ on the Iowa border.” Dean walked to the table, grabbed a bottle of water and drank more than half of it. “He was a traveling doctor there, his name was Emmanuel, and in two days he cured seventeen people. Broken bones healed, wounds left no scars, and tumors in late-stage cancer patients shrank. The locals already regard him as a saint.”

"What about memories?" Sam asked.

“Zeroing out.” Dean put down his water bottle and wiped his mouth. “He doesn’t remember us at all, he doesn’t remember Heaven, he doesn’t remember who he is, but he retains some instincts. He will treat injured people when he sees them, and he will frown when he sees evil things. I showed him photos and told him about the past. He seemed… confused, but willing to believe.”

Wu Heng's voice rang out again: "Bring him back, I need to do a deep scan."

“They’re already on their way,” Dean said. “Bobby is driving them, they’ll be there in six hours.”

Sam nodded, his attention returning to the map: "In the next six hours, we'll tighten the encirclement. Renault, have your men block all exits from Grantzpass, set up checkpoints, and disinfect all vehicles leaving the city with borax spray. Is the air force in position?"

“Twelve modified helicopters, equipped with high-pressure borax spraying systems.” Renault pulled up a map of the air force deployment. “But the mayor is still protesting, saying we are creating panic.”

“Let David handle the political issues,” Wu Heng said dismissively. “Tell him that if Leviathan completes its global infection network, panic will be the last thing he needs to worry about.”

Orders were issued one after another.

People moved about in the command center, and the communication channels constantly broadcasted the confirmation of instructions from each squad.

Sam stared at the red marks on the map, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table—a habitual gesture he made when thinking under pressure. Dean walked over to him and whispered, "He'll recover, won't he?"

Sam did not answer immediately.

He looked at the cautious expectation in Dean's eyes and thought of everything they had lost over the years: their father John, their friend Joe, Allen, and so many Witcher who had fought alongside them and ultimately fallen.

Castio is back now, but he may no longer be the angel he once was.

“Wu Heng said it might have been God who did it,” Sam finally said. “He saved Castillo.”

Dean smirked. "That bastard screenwriter who wrote himself into a story and then ruined it? But according to Paradise, wasn't he missing?"

“That’s what Heaven says,” Sam shrugged. “But for an being like God, disappearance might just be a change of identity to continue observing. The question is, why would He help? Perhaps in His eyes, Leviathan is just another… plot twist.”

The two were silent.

The clock on the wall ticked away; there were still eleven hours and forty-seven minutes until the weapon was completed.

Six hours later, in the underground medical room.

Castio, or as he should be called now, Emmanuel, was sitting quietly in the scanning chair.

He was dressed in a simple gray shirt and trousers, with worn-out canvas shoes, looking like an ordinary country doctor.

But his eyes were still that overly clear blue, and when he looked at people, he would unconsciously tilt his head slightly, as if he were observing some complex instrument.

Wu Heng stood in front of the control panel, observing Castio's soul.

The projection surface was covered with fine cracks, like a piece of porcelain that had been broken and barely pieced back together. Deep inside the cracks were pale yellow residues, all scars from Leviathan's erosion.

“Seventy percent of the memory storage area has been forcibly encrypted.” Wu Heng tapped on the keyboard, bringing up a more detailed analysis chart. “It’s a protective blockade. It’s probably to isolate the Leviathan contamination and prevent it from spreading to the core personality.”

Dean stood in front of the observation window, his hand resting on the glass: "Can you untie it?"

“I can try brute-force,” Wu Heng turned to look at him, “but there are risks. The encryption mechanism and memory structure are intertwined, and forcibly breaking through may result in permanent memory loss or… personality disintegration.”

"Isn't there a safer way?"

“Yes,” Wu Heng said. “Let the person who applied the encryption decrypt it. Based on the energy characteristics analysis, the encryption method involves the highest level of divine technology from Heaven. The only one capable of doing this is either an archangel or…”

“God himself,” Dean finished for him.

The room was quiet for a few seconds.

Castio, sitting in the scanning chair, suddenly spoke, his voice gentle but unfamiliar: "You're talking about me, aren't you?"

Everyone looked at him. (End of Chapter)