Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Outside, the torrential rain finally came crashing down.

Meanwhile, the gates of the North District mansion opened at the same time.

The black sedan was parked under the lights, its body pattering loudly as raindrops pelted its body.

There were already more than a dozen people standing in the courtyard. Some were wearing raincoats, and some were holding guns. No one spoke loudly. The only sound was the sound of leather boots splashing in the water.

Xilun walked down the steps, wearing a dark long trench coat with the collar buttoned up tightly, and his face was expressionless.

Rod immediately went to meet him and handed him a long, narrow black wooden box.

"Young master, here is what you requested."

Xilun took the wooden box, opened it, and took a look.

Inside were two small glass bottles: one containing a potion of tranquility, the other a bottle of concentrated elixir oil, and a special kind of talisman.

He glanced at it only once before closing the box.

"The medicine and incense should be given to the people in the outer circle; I don't need them."

Rhodes whispered, "You really don't want any?"

"No need."

Rena stood by the car, holding a map in her hand, rain streaming down her hat brim.

"The route is all set. The main road is too muddy and not suitable for large vehicles, so we'll take the old quarry road to the north and park at the bottom of the barren slope."

Kusso led the musketeers to guard the outer perimeter, Ferru led three men to block the south ditch, and the rest of us followed me to guard the abandoned cemetery east of the church.

Xilun nodded, then looked at Kusso and Feru.

"Remember, tonight is not the time to be reckless."

Whoever hears the song first, and first feels a hollowness in their chest and a heaviness in their head, must immediately take medicine, light incense, and move to the second lap. Do not try to push yourself.

Kuso gritted his teeth and said, "Understood."

Ferru replied in a deep voice, "Understood."

Xilun continued, "There are at least two Tier 2 opponents. One is a newbie, tough, fast, and suitable for close combat."

Another person who has been doing this kind of work for four or five years knows the occult, is good at pollution, and has hands that are more troublesome than knives.

If an ordinary person falls for his tricks, they'll either die or be crippled.

At this point, his gaze darkened slightly.

"If I hadn't mastered the Prayer Sprout beforehand, everyone who was near the church tonight would have had to prepare tranquility potions and incense, otherwise they wouldn't have been able to control their emotions."

Everyone felt a chill run down their spines.

Rena stared at him, then suddenly asked, "And what about you?"

Xilun looked up, and despite the torrential rain, his voice remained unusually calm.

"I've come to listen to them sing."

Upon hearing this, everyone in the courtyard fell silent for a moment.

The next moment, Xilun handed the black wooden box back to Rhodes, leaving only the Soul-Suppressing Nail, which he casually stuffed into the inner pocket of his trench coat.

Then, he raised his hand and touched his waist.

Golden threads hang down.

The nine-foot-long golden spear sank heavily into his palm, gleaming with a cold, dark golden light for a moment in the rainy night.

boom!

Lightning tore through the sky, illuminating everyone's eyes.

At that moment, even Kusso couldn't help but clench the butt of his gun.

This shot was heavier than the one fired a little over a month ago.

It's also colder now.

"Get in the car."

Without saying anything more, Xilun picked up his gun and sat in the back seat first.

The engine roared, but was quickly swallowed up by the torrential rain.

The convoy didn't keep its lights on for long. After leaving the main street, it deliberately dimmed its lights and slowly made its way south of the city, relying only on the occasional flashes of lightning.

The carriage was very quiet.

Rena sat in the back of the passenger seat, looking at the map under the dim light, occasionally mentioning a place name.

Kusuo's car followed behind, while Feilu led his men ahead to bury the entrance in Nangou.

Siren leaned back in his seat, his hand resting on the gun, his eyes half-closed.

The windshield wipers swung back and forth, making a monotonous and rapid rubbing sound.

For some reason, in this quiet moment, Lund's image suddenly flashed through the depths of his mind again.

There was no reply.

It's been over a month.

Like a stone sinking into the sea, it makes no sound.

Xilun opened his eyes, his gaze reflecting a cold glint in the car window.

He didn't like this feeling.

But tonight is not the time to be distracted.

"Five more minutes to the barren slope," Rena whispered.

Xilun hummed in agreement, and his echo chamber slowly opened deep within his throat.

The sound of the rain outside immediately changed.

It's no longer just chaos.

Instead, it poured in in layers, directions, and varying degrees of intensity—rain pelting leaves, rain beating against tombstones, wheels stuck in the mud, and the distant clock tower ruins exposed to the wind…

Go a little further.

He heard a very faint singing.

Like a prayer soaked by rain, seeping out in the deepest part of the night.

In the past, Xilun would have felt annoyed, annoyed, or even felt a strange tightness in his chest.

But now, as soon as those voices touched the edge of his mind, they were automatically separated by a thin but pure white layer.

It's not completely ineffective.

But it was enough for him to clearly "hear" it, rather than being dragged into it.

"stop."

Xilun suddenly spoke.

The car immediately slowed down and finally stopped behind a grove of wild pear trees that were swaying wildly in the wind.

When everyone got off the bus, the rain was pouring down as if someone were drenching buckets of water from the sky.

The muddy water quickly went up to the edges of the shoes.

Xilun stepped out of the car first, gripped the rifle firmly, and the raindrops hit the gun, quickly sliding down into a string of fine droplets.

"Disperse as originally planned."

"Yes."

Kuso led his men outwards, tucking the muskets under their raincoats, leaving only the muzzles visible.

Ferru led three experienced old knights, who knew the way well, along the path between abandoned graves and broken walls, heading south into the ditch.

Just as Rena was about to follow Xilun, he raised his hand to stop her.

"You lead the east side."

"You're going to the inner circle alone?"

"The people inside are listening to the music, not the footsteps. Too many people would only make it easier to be exposed."

Reina's brow furrowed: "Then you—"

"I'm fine."

Xilun glanced at her, his tone calm yet strangely reassuring.

"If I make a move, then you can press down on me."

Rena remained silent for a moment, then finally nodded: "Okay, be careful."

Without saying another word, Xilun picked up his gun, turned around, and walked alone into the darkest part of the rain.

The further you go, the clearer the singing becomes.

The outline of the church gradually emerged in the lightning's rays.

The collapsed spire, the crooked clock tower, the shattered stained glass windows, and the weeds blocking half of the stone steps—the entire building resembles an old beast soaked in mud, with only its skeleton remaining, not yet completely rotten.

Xilun did not go directly through the main entrance.

He walked along a section of broken wall, his footsteps so light they were almost silent. As the echoes reached their limit, the sounds and movements around the old church gradually took shape in his mind.

On the left side of the annex, there were five or six ordinary people, with an incense burner and a box.

On the west side of the broken corridor, there was a young man with vigorous energy, whose shoulder blades were used in a fierce way, clearly indicating that he had been engaged in close combat for many years.

And deeper—

At the foot of the clock tower, near the old well, stood another person.

The man's breathing was very light, and his heartbeat was not fast, but there was a very fine and viscous "sound" around him, as if many people were speaking in his ear with their voices lowered, but he forced it back into his chest.

This feeling was almost exactly the same as the lingering pollution on the postman's body during the day.

It's just more than ten times heavier.

Xilun's gaze turned slightly cold.

found it.

And indeed, they were two second-order units.

One is new, and one is old.

One was used to charge into battle, while the other was hidden behind to play the strings.

He didn't move immediately on the rainy night.

He simply squatted behind a section of half-collapsed tomb wall, slowly placed the spear across his knees, and with his other hand took out the Soul-Suppressing Nail from the inner pocket of his trench coat, gently holding it between his fingers.

The cold metal pressed against my skin.

From beneath the distant clock tower, the old man's voice was faintly carried by the wind.

"Don't rush... wait a little longer."

Xilun squinted, his whole being seemingly melting into the dark rain curtain.

and so on.

This is the one thing he has in abundance.

Tonight, the people in the church want to sing.

He then let them start playing the tune.

Wait until the perfect moment to fire, then unleash a devastating shot.

The oriole is unaware of the bird behind.

……

The rain is getting heavier.

Outside the Black Dove Church, the weeds were pressed low, and murky water flowed between the half-collapsed tomb walls, with mud seeping down the cracks in the rubble, as if this rotten land was also breathing.

Xilun crouched in the shadow of the tomb wall, his trench coat soaked through, but he remained motionless.

A slight tightness tightened deep in his throat.

Once the echo chamber opened up, the entire rainy night felt as if its outer layer had been peeled off.

The chaotic sound of rain was no longer just the sound of rain, but rather unfolded layer by layer into his mind:

The sound of the tombstone being struck, the weeds rubbing against each other, the dripping water from the broken eaves, the draft coming through the cracks in the attached door, and the slight trembling of the musketeer's Adam's apple as he suppressed his breath in the distance—all of these were so clear they were almost jarring.

The singing in the church was now even closer than before.

No, that's not right.

It's not that it's getting closer, it's that it's getting more urgent.

Xilun slowly raised his eyes and looked in the direction of the old well under the clock tower.

In that area, the sound of rain was chaotic.

It was as if there was an invisible mass nestled there, shattering the rain into pieces, the shattering sounds carrying a certain damp, cold stickiness.

He didn't rush to move.

With a slight turn of his wrist, a Soul-Suppressing Nail slid from between his fingers into his palm.

The pitch-black metal reflected no light in the rain, and was as cold as a dead man's bone.

The next moment, Xilun's body sank slightly, and he slid silently out along the broken wall, like a shadow torn apart by a rainstorm, instantly moving to the eastern cemetery.

Three steps.

Five steps.

He stopped next to a crooked bell post.

The stake was half-buried in the mud, with a small bell covered in green rust hanging from its top. When the wind blew, the bell's tongue didn't move, but a faint, humming sound could be heard seeping out from inside.

Xilun's gaze turned slightly cold as he raised his hand and pressed down.

puff!

The Soul-Suppressing Nail sank cleanly and decisively into the wooden stake.

The delicate singing suddenly stopped abruptly, as if someone had grabbed its neck, and then fell completely silent.

After doing all this, he didn't stop, but turned around and reached towards the base of the clock tower.

He had already figured it out before he came tonight.

Since the other side dared to choose the Black Dove Church as the location and even sent a warning message in advance, it shows that this is definitely not a simple ambush point.

This is the venue, and also the root of the problem.

If you rush in without first understanding the situation, you'll only be dragged into a quagmire by others taking advantage of the terrain.

He doesn't like being led by the nose.

I dislike even more going to the side of an old well of unknown depth and trying to outdo a seasoned polluter in a battle of wits to see who goes crazy first.

So he waited.

Wait for the other party to turn their cards over.

Suddenly, voices came from the other side of the rain curtain.

It was very light, but it couldn't escape the echoing sound.

"Still waiting?"

The voice was young and low, yet it carried an barely suppressed anger.

"If we wait any longer, those two little brats in the side room won't be able to hold on."

It's Edwin.

Xilun stopped and pressed himself against the crack in the clock tower, as if he were nailed to the wall.

A moment later, another, older, hoarser voice rang out.

"Even if we can't hold on, we have to."

Samuel coughed, as if swallowing back some bloody smell, his voice muffled:

"The rain hasn't been enough, the thunder hasn't struck Zhongtai yet, and the gas down in the well hasn't been properly compressed. Opening the well now isn't about retrieving anything; it's about releasing all that disease down there."

Edwin gritted his teeth: "But didn't you say that a downpour is the best time?"

"That's the best—"

Samuelton paused, then said in a low voice, "That's also when you're most likely to die."

After a brief silence, only the soft crackling of the medicine furnace could be heard in the church.

Xilun tilted his head slightly, and the echoing sound probed into the crack in the stone.

Inside the annex, it turned out they weren't all thugs.

There are seven people.

Two children, three adults, an old woman, and a boy whose breath was so weak he was almost gone.

They were all very quiet, abnormally quiet.

She's not asleep.

It was more like being forcibly suppressed by the medicine and incense, unable to even groan.

Xilun's gaze slowly darkened.

This old man and young boy aren't setting up an incense table and chanting scriptures here.

They brought a patient with them.

"You still want to save them?"

Edwin's voice was filled with barely suppressed agitation: "You yourself said that place down there isn't clean. If you really opened the door, not only them, but even you and I might not be able to get out."

Even if you can't get out, you still have to try.

Samuel spoke slowly, his voice muffled by the rain, yet calmer than ever before: "Have you counted how many people have died in those rows of shacks in East Alley in the last six months?"

"Coughing up blood, having rotten lungs, having growths in their throats, still able to speak during the day, but starting to hear singing at night—"

"The pharmacy had no medicine, the parish didn't recognize people, and the security team only cared about the dead, not the sick."

There's a well beneath the old church, and beneath the well are old seals. Since these seals were used to suppress illness, it means that even under something rotten, there must be something life-saving hidden.

Edwin muttered under his breath, "You're gambling."

"In this world, for ordinary people, survival is a gamble."

As soon as those words were spoken, even the sound of rain outside seemed to pause for a moment.

Xilun lowered his eyes and remained silent.

He suddenly remembered the townspeople kneeling in the mud in Scamay, the little girl by the flower field who asked him if the flowers would sing again, and the overwhelming despair and fear that Felix felt when he confessed about Mother Gully.

The path this group has chosen is filthy.

But what they're after isn't necessarily all money.

Beneath the clock tower, Samuel spoke again.

"I am not working for the choir."

"They only gave me pages and old pictures, and told me that there was a side of the remains of life under the Black Dove Church."

"I searched for thirteen years, turning over mines and digging old canals, before I finally found this place..."

At this point, he suddenly chuckled.

The laugh was dry and cold, like a rag rubbing against rust.

"Originally, I only wanted to take a small piece of white slurry root from the well throat, or a little bit of clean liquid seeping out from the old seal, enough for me to try once."

Who knew that as time went on, more and more people fell ill, and more and more people eyed the well.

Edwin said in a deep voice, "You mean, the one outside has arrived too?"

Samuel did not answer immediately.

But the next moment, Xilun clearly felt a very light "listening" sweep outwards from the well.

It relies neither on the eyes nor the ears.

It's more like some kind of instinct after being polluted, tentatively exploring the surroundings in the damp, cold rainy night.

Xilun didn't move an inch, not even his breathing changed.

After a moment, Samuel said slowly, "Whether he is or not, I don't know."

"But if he really understood pollution, he would definitely have come to tonight's event."

Edwin sneered, "It's better that he's here. I'll tear him apart to save him from ruining things."

"Don't be stupid."

Samuel's voice suddenly turned cold. "If you really think of him as one of those sheriffs who just carry guns and surround people, you'll be the first one to die tonight."

"He can untie the postman's clothes."

"He even dared to sneak here alone."

"This kind of person isn't just quick with a knife. He's calmer than you think."