101: His butler? His executioner!

"Open up."

Chen Mo's voice, transmitted through Li Ke's encrypted line, plunged into the pond named "World Order."

No response.

The black transport plane, like a solitary iron bird, hovered above the roaring, icy sea.

The gale, carrying salty spray, fiercely lashed against the fuselage.

"Damn it... Is he ignoring us?"

Zhao Dahai pressed his face almost against the porthole, looking at the distant fortresses that resembled the skeletons of prehistoric behemoths.

"There won't be any traps, will there?"

"He doesn't need traps."

Chen Mo's voice was flat.

"He just needs to... display."

As soon as he finished speaking.

Buzz—

A low hum, as if from the depths of the earth's core, pierced through the roar of the wind and waves.

In the distance, the largest fortress, located in the very center.

Its steel dome, covered in rust and seabird droppings, slowly slid open to both sides with a grating metallic sound that made one's teeth ache.

A beam of pure white light, as if capable of piercing heaven, shot up from inside the fortress!

Illuminating the gloomy, cloud-shrouded sky as bright as day.

"What is that?!"

Zhao Dahai's eyes stung from the intense light.

That wasn't a light.

That was a... landing pad.

A landing pad made of an unknown metal, smooth as a mirror, and full of futuristic sci-fi aesthetic, was slowly rising from inside the fortress.

"He is... welcoming us."

Su Qingxue looked at the landing pad, which still emitted a sacred glow in the storm, and felt a chill shoot from her tailbone straight to the crown of her head.

This was not a welcome.

This was... a provocation.

The most arrogant, most disdainful provocation.

"Go down."

Chen Mo's voice carried no emotion.

The black transport plane slowly descended.

When the landing gear touched the mirror-smooth landing pad, there was no sound.

The cabin door opened.

A cold air, mixed with the smell of ozone and disinfectant, rushed in.

Chen Mo was the first to walk down the gangway.

Behind him were Su Qingxue, Zhao Dahai, and Nightingale, like a black shadow.

The landing pad was spotless.

It formed a stark contrast with the weather-beaten decay of the fortress's exterior.

As if two completely different worlds.

At the end of the landing pad, a large door made of pure white alloy silently slid open to both sides.

Behind the door was a corridor, equally white, even somewhat dazzling.

At the end of the corridor stood a person.

An old man, dressed in a crisp, wrinkle-free English tailcoat.

His hair and beard were white, meticulously groomed.

On his face, he wore a humble and proper smile.

A monocle rested on the bridge of his nose.

He looked like the most perfect noble butler, stepped out of a medieval painting.

"Mr. Chen."

The old man spoke, his voice gentle, magnetic, with a pure London accent.

"My master has been waiting for you for a long time."

He bowed slightly, performing an impeccable butler's bow.

His gaze swept over Su Qingxue and Zhao Dahai behind Chen Mo, and the look in his eye beneath the monocle showed no ripple of emotion.

"But the master didn't expect."

"You would bring... so much luggage."

"Who are you calling luggage?!"

Zhao Dahai's temper flared instantly!

He felt an unprecedented insult!

The old man ignored him.

He just looked at Chen Mo, his humble smile unchanged.

"Please, Mr. Chen."

"The master has prepared... the last supper for you in the 'Throne Room'."

Chen Mo looked at him.

There was no anger, no surprise in his god-like eyes.

"You are not a butler."

He spoke, his voice very flat.

The smile on the old man's face froze for a moment.

"You are... an executioner."

As soon as he finished speaking!

Nightingale moved!

She shot out from Chen Mo's shadow like a black lightning bolt, silently!

The blue dagger in her hand turned into a streak of light tearing through the darkness, stabbing directly at the old man's throat!

Fast!

Faster than the limits of human ability!

However.

Clang—!

A loud clang of metal!

The dagger, capable of severing vengeful spirits, was firmly clamped by a hand that appeared out of nowhere, just a centimeter from the old man's throat!

A hand wearing a white silk glove.

The old man still maintained his smile, as if the deadly blade was merely an insignificant feather.

Nightingale's pupils suddenly contracted!

She tried to pull out the dagger!

But found that the dagger was welded between the opponent's fingers, unmoving!

"Bang!"

Su Qingxue's gun fired!

The bullet spun, roared, and accurately shot towards the old man's glabella!

The old man did not dodge.

He merely tilted his head slightly.

The bullet, capable of piercing steel plates, flew past his temple.

Leaving a shallow, insignificant red mark on his face.

The next second.

That red mark disappeared at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Beneath the skin, a cold, metallic sheen flashed.

"A cyborg?"

Zhao Dahai's eyes widened like brass bells!

"No."

Chen Mo shook his head.

"He is no longer... human."

The old man released the hand clamping the dagger.

He glanced at the dagger, which glowed with a faint blue light, and for the first time, a hint of approval appeared in his eyes beneath the monocle.

"A good weapon."

"What a pity."

He suddenly lifted his leg!

Fast!

So fast that only an afterimage remained!

Nightingale's body, like a sandbag hit by a truck, grunted and flew backward!

Hitting the alloy wall behind her with a dull thud!

"Nightingale!"

Su Qingxue gasped!

The old man did not stop.

His body, like a weightless fallen leaf, silently drifted towards Su Qingxue!

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Su Qingxue fired frantically!

But the old man merely swayed left and right, as if strolling leisurely through the dense hail of bullets.

All the bullets brushed past the hem of his clothes!

"Your marksmanship is terrible, miss."

His voice was still gentle and polite.

But the hand reaching for Su Qingxue's throat was as cold as the Grim Reaper's scythe!

And it was at this moment!

"Hah!"

Zhao Dahai, like an enraged bull, charged from the side!

He poured all his weight and strength into this savage collision!

However.

The old man merely extended a finger.

A slender index finger, wearing a white glove.

Gently, he touched Zhao Dahai's forehead.

"Bang!"

Zhao Dahai's massive body, as if hitting an invisible wall, suddenly halted!

Then, his eyes rolled back, and he fell straight down.

"So noisy."

The old man frowned, seemingly displeased that his elegant movements had been disturbed.

He turned his head, his gentle eyes once again falling upon Chen Mo.

His gaze was like looking at an annoying piece of trash about to be disposed of.

"Now."

"It's your turn, Mr. Chen."

He slowly walked towards Chen Mo.

Each step was as if measured with a ruler, not a single fraction off.

Su Qingxue stood in front of Chen Mo, and on her usually cold face, an expression named "despair" appeared.

Too strong.

This monster was simply not something humans could defeat.

Chen Mo did not move.

He merely looked at the approaching, perfect "work of art."

His "Eye of Judgment" had long since pierced through that perfect skin.

Seeing beneath the skin, muscles composed of countless nanofibers, bones made of titanium alloy, and a heart driven by a miniature nuclear reactor.

"Arthur modified you well."

Chen Mo spoke, no emotion discernible in his voice.

"What a pity."

"He forgot to install one thing for you."

"What?"

The old man stopped, seemingly showing a hint of interest in his words.

"A soul."

Chen Mo shook his head.

"A weapon without a soul, no matter how perfect, is merely... a pile of scrap metal."

"Is that so?"

The old man smiled.

For the first time, his humble smile carried a cold mockery.

"Then."

"Please use your 'soul' to see if you can stop this pile of... 'scrap metal' of mine."

He suddenly took a step forward!

The entire alloy floor shook!

His hand, wearing a white glove, shot out like a white lightning bolt, straight at Chen Mo's heart!

Fast!

So fast that even Su Qingxue didn't have time to react!

However.

Chen Mo did not dodge.

He didn't even look at the hand capable of piercing armor.

He merely raised his right hand.

Towards that pristine, spotless corridor.

Towards those walls made of cold steel and circuits.

Gently, he spoke one word.

"Collapse."

Boom—!!!

A tremendous roar!

The entire fortress, as if squeezed by an invisible giant hand, was violently crushed!

The old man's lightning-fast figure suddenly froze!

He looked up in horror!

Only to see the alloy ceiling, several meters thick, instantly crack into pieces like paper!

Countless circuits exploded, sparks flying everywhere!

Huge steel beams twisted and groaned, like dying pythons.

Crashing down upon him!

Friendly reminder: The website is about to be revised, which may result in the loss of reading progress. Please save your "Bookshelf" and "Reading History" in time (screenshot saving is recommended). We apologize for any inconvenience caused!