Southeast of Begonia Alley, inside a secret observation point converted from an abandoned signal tower.
Two high-level executives from the headquarters, dressed in plain clothes, watched the absurd slaughter that had suddenly erupted in Begonia Alley from a distance.
The expressions on their faces shifted from cold, analytical scrutiny to stunned gravity.
“We were just ambushing an S-rank fugitive. How did it trigger such a massive commotion?”
One of them muttered to himself, finding the situation utterly ridiculous and hard to believe.
Their plan was to use Bai Wanyang as bait, setting an inescapable net to wait for Yue Shi to appear before suppressing him with overwhelming force.
Their contingencies had accounted for spatial raids, hidden assassinations, large-scale curses, or even heavy bombardment. They had even considered the possibility that the target might not show up at all.
But those plans definitely didn't include the scene before them: the sun and moon sharing the sky, duplicates fighting their originals, and a total internal collapse of their forces.
The moon, rivaling the sun in brilliance, emitted a radiance that now struck these executives with a heart-palpitating sense of unnatural existence.
It defied the laws of celestial movement; it looked more like a collective hallucination forcibly embedded into the real world.
Those duplicates appearing out of thin air, identical to their originals, were beyond the scope of conventional supernatural powers.
There were precedents for abilities like clones, illusions, or mental control.
But the precise, rapid, and mass creation of duplicates was unheard of.
“They’re targeting us.”
“Only the headquarters' people have been duplicated. The original residents of Begonia Alley haven't been copied, though they're being caught in the crossfire,” the other executive said with certainty.
They quickly observed more details.
“The appearance of the duplicates has specific conditions—they need contact with moonlight.”
“Everyone who has a duplicate had some part of their body exposed to the new moonlight the moment the anomalous celestial phenomenon occurred.”
“Those within the shadows of buildings haven't been duplicated.”
“The duplicates have a simple behavioral pattern: they only attack their corresponding original and ignore other targets. They seem to lack self-awareness but are extremely aggressive.”
“We must stop the chaos immediately!”
After observing the characteristics of these duplicates, the executives took action.
A ripple swept through Begonia Alley.
The effect was immediate.
The duplicates, who had been frantically attacking their originals, all froze simultaneously.
The well-trained headquarters elites immediately seized the opportunity to launch a counterattack.
The battle didn't last much longer.
All the duplicates were soon cleared away, and Begonia Alley finally regained its peace.
Many wounded lay on the ground—some hurt by the duplicates, others accidentally injured during the process of clearing them out.
A faint scent of blood hung in the air.
Jiang Cifei, Dr. Luo, and the roast ducks of Begonia Alley, who had been under centralized guard, had long since escaped during the chaos. Only those too injured to move or those who had lost their lives in the turmoil remained.
The commander in charge of the scene had an ashen face as he directed the treatment of the wounded and the collection of the bodies.
“All units, attention! Immediately follow the predetermined emergency evacuation plan. Everyone is to return to headquarters!”
“Repeat, evacuate and return immediately.”
The Minister’s direct order came through the highest-priority channel, his tone urgent and brook no argument.
The high-level executives and captains lying in ambush immediately stood up and retreated.
The commander on the scene froze for a moment, looking up at the sky.
The sun had begun to dip toward the west, the dim yellow sunlight coating the earth in the colors of twilight.
Yet that eerie moon remained suspended in its original position, motionless, as if nailed to the sky.
As the sunlight faded, the moonlight didn't grow stronger, but the malice seeping from it became increasingly clear and bone-chilling.
On the internet, things had already exploded.
Photos and videos of the sun and moon together, taken from various angles, spread rapidly.
Astronomical agencies issued emergency debunking statements, claiming it might be a special optical phenomenon.
But professional conspiracy theorists and ordinary people who had experienced supernatural incidents sensed an unusual aura.
The intensity of the discussion climbed exponentially, though mass panic hadn't broken out yet.
To most people, the moon still symbolized something positive.
Cloud Whale Headquarters.
Piercing alarms of different frequencies rang out in a cacophony, nearly drowning out the headquarters building.
On the intelligence department's main screen, a shocking red warning zone had formed.
Every supernatural detector connected to the system, regardless of model or location, was alarming frantically; some even burned out from overload.
“Preliminary judgment: the source of contamination is the anomalous moon in the sky.”
“Nature of contamination: unknown. Scope of influence... the entire world!”
The analyst's voice trembled.
The high-level executives and captains who had been in ambush near Begonia Alley not long ago had all rushed back.
Not just them, but every major action department, strategic support unit, and elite team stationed elsewhere was being recalled at maximum speed, conditions permitting.
The order came directly from the Minister's office.
The core conference room, capable of holding hundreds, was now packed to capacity.
All headquarters executives, administrative heads of various departments, chief researchers, and strategic consultants were present.
The atmosphere was heavy, and everyone looked grim.
The Minister sat at the end of the long table, his face more serious than usual, his eyes filled with gloom.
The head of the intelligence department was giving an emergency report:
“It has been less than twenty-four hours since the anomalous celestial phenomenon appeared. None of our observation methods can penetrate the lunar surface or analyze its composition.”
“At present, we can only confirm two things. First, the anomalous moon is a global phenomenon, appearing simultaneously over all continents and oceans, ignoring time zones.”
“Second, the moonlight it emits possesses unknown contamination properties. Conventional physical means and most known supernatural methods cannot affect the moon.”
As the words fell, a heavy weight settled on everyone's heart in the conference room.
The Minister went straight to the point. “Emergency plan.”
The head of the action department immediately stood up. “I suggest deploying all controllable meteorological devices to create cloud cover over cities to isolate the moonlight as much as possible.”
“However, resources are limited. We can only prioritize covering major cities. Furthermore, maintaining the cloud cover requires a continuous consumption of energy.”
“And the public?” another executive asked.
“We’ve issued emergency notices through all channels, instructing everyone not to look at the moon, to avoid outdoor activities, to close their doors and windows, and to pull their blackout curtains.”
With the headquarters' response being so pale and powerless, the meeting fell into silence.
The Minister’s brow was tightly knit. Because his Authority of Oblivion could manipulate memory, he actually knew a bit more than everyone else present.
This world seemingly had no moon originally.
But that was the extent of it; he didn't know any more secrets.
This wasn't the first time the moon had shown an anomaly.
The last time an anomaly occurred, the Minister had only vaguely sensed something was wrong with the moon, but he had quickly ignored it.
This realization made his blood run cold. He wielded the Authority of Oblivion—how could he have ignored such a thing?
What exactly was this malice-radiating moon?
He couldn't speak this truth. Once made public, it might cause even greater panic.
Until they found a way to deal with it, they had to maintain the appearance of stability, even if it was just a fragile illusion.
The Minister finally spoke, his voice decisive.
“Concentrate all forces. At any cost, find a way to block or counter the moon.”
“Activate all hidden intelligence lines to find any related clues to this incident. Strengthen internal control to prevent the spread of panic.”
His gaze swept the room. “Everyone, we must prepare for the worst. From this moment on, headquarters is in a state of highest combat readiness. Dismissed.”
With heavy faces, the crowd began to leave.
The conference room became empty again.
The Minister sat alone at the long table, slowly leaning back into his chair as he reached out to rub his aching temples.
...
Amber City.
As night fell, the sky was pitch black.
Since noon, the city's sky had been completely covered by dark clouds.
Not a single bit of light filtered through. By sunset, the entire city was plunged into darkness.
Only the streetlights remained on, illuminating the roads.
Furthermore, when the clouds had gathered in the afternoon, cell signals had suddenly vanished, internet connections were cut, TV screens turned to static, and radio channels were left with nothing but white noise.
At first, people complained; some tried restarting their routers, and others guessed it was a temporary service outage from the providers.
For the vast majority of Amber City's citizens, this was just a winter day without internet or signal, meaning they needed to go home early.
Though inconvenient, it wasn't enough to disrupt their lives.
Children played indoors under limited lighting. No one knew about the strange moon in the sky, nor did they know about the warnings issued by headquarters.
To them, this was just an ordinary day.
Residents pulled their curtains at night, turned on their indoor lights, played offline games, read cached novels, or went to bed early.
...
Over major cities like Yujing, man-made clouds shielded the sky.
Though some moonlight still leaked through the edges of the clouds, it at least provided sanctuary for the city centers.
But many smaller cities didn't receive such treatment.
The Chaos Zones, in particular, had long been completely exposed to the moon's gaze.
Headquarters' resources were limited, so they had to make choices.
...
In a certain Chaos Zone, inside a small attic.
The attic's environment was decent, far better than most buildings in the Chaos Zone.
It had a small window that could be tightly closed, a clean bed, and piles of biscuit tins and bottled water in the corner.
A faint scent of citrus lingered in the air.
The owner of the room, Zhong Mo, was curled up on the bed, huddled under a blanket. His body was slightly tensed, like a cat ready to spring at any moment.
His face was covered in a crisscross of scars, making him look quite terrifying.
Only his eyes remained bright. If one looked closely at his features, they could vaguely see that he had been quite handsome before his disfigurement.
He had carved up his own face.
As one of the first people to break free from the Supernatural Game Show, he had never thought about going back to save his so-called companions.
Surviving—surviving peacefully at all costs—was his only goal.
But not long ago, he discovered that his supernatural power had vanished, and the Supernatural Game Show was gone too.
He guessed that his power had probably been granted by the Supernatural Game Show; now that the show was gone, his power had disappeared as well.
He didn't know what had happened to the show, nor was he in the mood to consider it, as he was facing a crisis of his own.
Having lost his supernatural power in the Chaos Zone, he was little more than a prime piece of meat.
Even when he had his powers, people would harass him from time to time. Once it was known he had become an ordinary human, he would surely meet a miserable end!
To protect himself, he had made many preparations. Disfiguring himself was one of the necessary steps; he didn't want to become a plucked rose.
Fortunately, he still had a few supernatural objects on him, so he wasn't completely defenseless.
These past few days, he had tried his best to minimize going outside. He didn't know how long he could hold on; every day felt like walking a tightrope.
During the day, he slept under his blanket. He had learned about the news of the anomalous moon through his phone after waking up.
He had seen the viral photos and videos, and he had seen the warnings later issued by headquarters.
“Whatever you do, don't look at the moon!”
Without needing the reminder, Zhong Mo had already drawn his curtains even tighter.
He wouldn't look, and he wouldn't be curious; avoiding all risks was his creed for survival.
As night fell, he extinguished the only small nightlight in the room, letting himself be fully immersed in the darkness. He leaned against the wall, pricking up his ears to listen to the sounds outside.
At first, it was no different from usual.
Until just after midnight on January 1st, as the New Year began.
Sudden shouting and noise erupted outside, sounding like people were arguing and fighting.
Zhong Mo looked out through a gap in the curtains; indeed, a fight had broken out.
It wasn't just a clash between one or two people, but many people in many places, fighting each other and venting their malice without restraint.
The sounds came from all directions, merging into a single roar.
Zhong Mo held his breath. This was too abnormal.
The nights in the Chaos Zone were dangerous; those without strength wouldn't easily venture out at night.
Why were there suddenly so many people fighting outside tonight?
Even more terrifyingly, as Zhong Mo observed closely, he realized that those people seemed to be gaining strength through the slaughter.
They had originally been malnourished ordinary people, but as they fought, their strength and speed far exceeded that of normal humans, and they even grew stronger as the fight continued.
Commotion also came from within the building below the attic.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the stairwell.
Zhong Mo heard the door of the room next door being kicked open, followed by the sounds of rummaging and smashing.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The small door to his attic was also heavily struck twice.
The wooden door wasn't sturdy. Zhong Mo immediately hid under the bed; he was unwilling to have any contact with these clearly abnormal people.
After crawling under the bed, he prayed silently in his heart—praying that the door would hold a little longer, praying that this sudden madness would pass quickly.
“Please let the sun come up soon,” he kept chanting in his mind.
When the sun came out, the moon would surely disappear, and everything would return to normal, right?
Time passed bit by bit. The sounds of slaughter outside rose and fell, but they never stopped.
The attic door was eventually broken open. Fortunately, no one discovered Zhong Mo, but they stole his food and water!
For the sake of the food and water, the people who had broken in started beating each other up.
Even if they had originally been on good terms, they now fought as if they were sworn enemies, locked in a struggle to the death.
“Out with the old, in with the new,” Zhong Mo thought philosophically. If the supplies were gone, they were gone, as long as he wasn't hurt.
An unknown amount of time passed—perhaps several hours, perhaps longer.
Zhong Mo stayed hidden under the bed. He checked the time; it should be nearly dawn.
But the sky outside the window hadn't changed at all.
The patches of light filtering through the curtain gaps were still moonlight.
An extremely ominous premonition rose in Zhong Mo's heart.
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