Courtyard House: I fish in the heavens, a professional bird abuser.

The square was deathly silent.

All twenty-seven survivors looked at He Yuanchao.

Those gazes contained everything—fear, dependence, and an expectation of "can you really handle this?"

Alice stood two steps to the left and behind He Yuanchao.

Her hand was already on the gun handle, and all her muscles were tense—the kind of conditioned reflex that comes with an impending battle.

She clenched her teeth as she watched the vengeful goddess approaching step by step in the distance.

"Should we fight or not?" she asked in a low voice.

He Yuanchao did not answer her.

He looked at Kane.

I looked at it for about three seconds.

Kane was looking at him too.

The two men stared at each other from eighty meters apart. One stood in front of an armored vehicle, protected by a group of fully armed soldiers, while the other stood among a group of ragged survivors.

Kane still had that nauseating smile on his lips.

That kind of smile, like a chess player looking at the chessboard.

He Yuanchao removed his hand from the gun handle.

He took two steps forward.

"Major Kane."

His voice wasn't loud, but everyone in the square heard it.

"Your suggestion is good."

Kane's smile remained unchanged.

"But you missed one."

His smile froze slightly.

"After we win—you, Kane, will also be included in the 'legacy.'"

Kane's expression finally changed.

The smile turned into a frown.

"Mr. He, you have no room for bargaining—"

He didn't say the last word.

Because He Yuanchao made a move.

It wasn't directed at Nemesis.

It's aimed at Kane.

He Yuanchao drew the Tang sword that he had always kept at his waist.

At the same time, he issued a command in his mind.

The system remotely activates the city hall's fire sprinkler system.

When he took over the public address system using the Red Queen's privileges, he also hacked into the fire protection system inside the City Hall building.

"hiss--"

Dozens of fire sprinklers inside and outside the city hall building were activated simultaneously.

Water mist sprayed from every corner of the building—not the gentle drizzle, but a violent jet like a high-pressure fire hose.

Within seconds, the water mist filled the entire north side of the square.

Kane and his soldiers were instantly enveloped in a white mist.

The line of sight is obstructed.

The infrared sight was interfered with by water vapor.

The beam of the tactical flashlight scattered into a blur in the mist, making it impossible to see anything clearly.

He Yuanchao made his move during this window of opportunity.

His body became a blur in the mist.

He pushed his speed to its limit after the gene lock was unlocked—it took him less than half a second to go from the start to full speed.

Eighty meters.

For him, it took less than four seconds.

The soldiers around Kane realized what was happening.

Someone fired a shot.

"Da da da—"

Bullets flew through the water mist, striking the granite floor tiles and sparking.

But they couldn't see their target.

He Yuanchao's movement route was not a straight line—he walked in a zigzag arc in the mist, and the landing point of each step was irregular, making those guns that were firing by feel always half a beat slower.

Two soldiers blocked his way.

The first one just raised his gun.

He Yuanchao slid sideways under the gun barrel—not to dodge, but to cut directly between the soldier's legs in a low stance—while simultaneously sweeping his blade across the back of the soldier's knee.

The man's legs instantly lost their support, and his entire body fell forward.

The second soldier tried to hit him with the butt of his rifle.

He Yuanchao parried the gun butt with one hand, and slammed the hilt of his knife into the man's mask with the other.

The bulletproof mask shattered.

The impact of the knife hilt sent the man staggering three steps backward before he crashed into the armored vehicle.

The third and fourth.

He Yuanchao did not kill them.

It's not that I don't want to—it's that there's no need.

He only slashed at the wrists, knees, and elbows—positions that render the victim incapacitated but not fatal.

It's not kindness.

It's about efficiency.

Those who are killed still need to dispose of the bodies. Those who are crippled only need someone to help them up—which actually consumes more of the other side's manpower.

This is the tactical theory he learned from Zhao Gang in the world of "Bright Sword".

It is also an ironclad rule that he has verified in countless real-world battles.

Four soldiers were rendered useless—from the moment He Yuanchao rushed into the water mist until this step was completed—a total of three seconds.

Kane finally saw it.

From the water mist.

A figure, soaked to the bone, emerged.

She walked up to him.

The distance was less than one meter.

The tip of the Dragon Slayer Blade was pressed against his throat.

The cold metal pressed against my skin.

Kane could feel the touch, which was devoid of any warmth.

And—the killing intent emanating from the wielder of that knife, colder than the blade itself.

He Yuanchao was covered in water.

Her hair was wet and clung to her forehead, with water droplets running down her chin.

The bulletproof vest was soaked through and reflected the light.

But his hand—the one holding the knife—remained completely still.

It was so stable, it was as if it were welded into the air.

"Now."

He Yuanchao's voice was very soft.

It was so soft that only Kane could hear it.

"I'm in charge."

"Order your men to lay down their weapons."

"Otherwise, your head will hit the ground before theirs."

Kane's lips moved slightly.

He looked into He Yuanchao's dark eyes, which were so close to his own.

There was no anger in it.

There was no mockery.

There is not even a threat.

There was only one kind of absolute certainty—something he had never seen in anyone's eyes in his entire life.

If a man says he will cut off his own head, then he will definitely do so.

He was as certain as if he were saying that nuclear weapons would come.

Kane's Adam's apple bobbed.

His lips trembled for two seconds.

Then he raised his hand.

"Everyone..."

His voice trembled slightly.

"Put down your weapons."