69: Stop talking nonsense, you are the most important.

All the sounds of the world vanished in this instant.

He could only see Chen Mo's pale lips moving, and the raging sea of fire and collapsing cities reflected in his eyes.

"What did you say?"

Bureau Chief Zhou's voice was dry, like sandpaper rubbing together.

"'doomsday clock' is a person... He has been activated..."

Every breath Chen Mo took carried the metallic sweetness of bloody foam.

His body was trembling, not from the cold, but from the searing pain transmitted by his nerve endings after extreme exhaustion.

"He is not carrying a bomb... He... he is the bomb..."

"A... bio-signal... fuse..."

"What damn fuse are you talking about?!"

Zhao Dahai grabbed the collar of a nearby Norwegian doctor, his eyes red as he roared, "What the hell is he saying?!"

The doctor was scared out of his wits and could only shake his head frantically.

Beep—

A sharp, prolonged buzzing sound pierced everyone's eardrums.

Inside the ward.

On the vital signs monitor connected to "Shadow," the steady heartbeat curve had become a flat line, signifying death.

"Shadow" was dead.

After using his last reserves of strength to transmit this top-secret intelligence through his heartbeat, his heart stopped beating.

He had completed his atonement.

"Damn it!"

Zhao Dahai punched the wall, and plaster dust scattered down.

The only live witness was gone.

"Chen Mo!"

Su Qingxue cried out in alarm.

She watched Chen Mo's eyes slowly close.

His entire body slumped down limply, like a ragdoll whose spine had been removed.

She swiftly caught him; his skin felt burning hot to the touch.

He was running a high fever.

His body was protesting the frantic exertion of his brain in the most violent way possible.

Woo—Woo—

Outside the window, dense police sirens approached from a distance.

They were shrill and piercing.

The Oslo police had finally arrived.

"Director Zhou!" Zhao Dahai said, his face ashen, "We are surrounded!"

Inside the ward: the corpse of a "special police officer" brought by the Interpol director.

A Chinese police pistol that was still hot.

A group of disarmed Norwegian SWAT officers.

And an Interpol director suffering a nervous breakdown.

This scene.

No matter how it was explained, it was an absolute disaster.

"Petersen!"

Bureau Chief Zhou spun around abruptly, like a provoked lion, rushing to the front of the slumped Petersen and grabbing his collar.

"Make the call! Tell the people outside that a top-level counter-terrorism drill is taking place here!"

His eyes were bloodshot, and his voice carried an undeniable command.

"Tell them that anyone attempting to approach this ward will be considered an accomplice to terrorists and shot on sight!"

"I... I..." Petersen trembled like a falling leaf in the wind.

"No 'I'!"

Bureau Chief Zhou roared, "Do you want 'The Emperor' to sink you and your entire family into the Atlantic, or do you want to live? Choose one!"

The instinct for survival overcame his fear.

Petersen, trembling, snatched the phone from Hansen and dialed a number.

He repeated Bureau Chief Zhou's words in Norwegian, his voice hoarse with exhaustion.

The sirens abruptly stopped downstairs at the hospital.

But everyone knew this was only temporary.

They had ten minutes, at most.

"Director Zhou, what do we do now? How do we get back? Should we take him?" Zhao Dahai pointed at the unconscious Chen Mo, sweating anxiously.

Bureau Chief Zhou did not answer.

He looked at Chen Mo, who was in a deep coma, and then at the unfamiliar sky outside the window.

An unprecedented sense of powerlessness washed over him like a tide.

project heavens condemnation had already been initiated.

Yet his "heavens punishment," his sharpest sword, had broken here.

Bang!

The ward door was pushed open once again.

This time.

There was no impact, no violence.

A woman stood outside the door.

A tall, cold, and beautiful Oriental woman wearing a long black trench coat.

Her gaze was colder than the ice and snow of Oslo.

Behind her were four operatives wearing identical black combat uniforms, but they were better equipped and had a more composed aura.

They bore no national or military insignia.

Only a chilling killing intent, the kind that crawls out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

The woman ignored the tense atmosphere in the room and did not spare a glance for the corpse on the floor.

Her gaze swept across the entire scene like a scanner.

Finally, it landed on Bureau Chief Zhou's face.

"Bureau Chief Zhou?"

Her voice, like her eyes, was devoid of warmth.

Bureau Chief Zhou's pupils contracted.

"Who are you?"

"My codename is 'Nightingale.'"

The woman pulled a tablet encased in a black metal shell from her trench coat pocket and handed it to Bureau Chief Zhou.

On the screen.

There was only one bright red, countdown number.

71:58:34

"project heavens condemnation, highest execution sequence."

"Effective immediately, I am taking over all command authority at this location."

Bureau Chief Zhou looked at the countdown, his heart sinking violently.

Seventy-two hours.

This was the countdown until the doomsday clock launched its attack!

Nightingale retrieved the tablet, her gaze finally moving away from Bureau Chief Zhou, passing over him, and landing on the unconscious young man in Su Qingxue's arms.

"Is he 'The Listener'?"

"The Listener"?

Was this Chen Mo's codename?

Before Bureau Chief Zhou could react, Nightingale had already walked up to Su Qingxue.

She reached out, felt Chen Mo's forehead, and then lifted his eyelid for a look.

"Mental exhaustion. The brain has forcibly initiated sleep protection."

Her diagnosis was concise and accurate.

"We need to take him immediately."

"Take him?"

Zhao Dahai couldn't help but interject, "What about 'Shadow's' body? What about the mess here?"

Nightingale's gaze finally landed on Zhao Dahai for the first time.

It was the look one gives an irrelevant object.

"The body will be processed."

"Everything here will disappear from everyone's memory within fifteen minutes."

"As for him," Nightingale's gaze returned to Chen Mo, and a hint of emotion appeared in her voice for the first time, "Stop wasting time. He is the most important asset right now."

Having said that, she gestured to the operatives behind her.

Two operatives immediately stepped forward and retrieved a foldable, portable medical stretcher from behind them.

Carefully, they prepared to take Chen Mo from Su Qingxue's arms.

Su Qingxue's body instinctively tensed up.

Like a she-wolf protecting her cub, she watched the two strangers warily.

Nightingale saw through her thoughts.

"Officer Su Qingxue," she said coldly, "Your mission is to be his gun."

"Right now, your mission is to protect this 'asset.'"

"We will provide him with the best medical care in the world to ensure his swift recovery."

"Because only he can find that damned 'doomsday clock' within the heartbeats of millions in that city."

She finished speaking deliberately, then turned and walked toward the door.

"Evacuate."

The order was given.

Everything began to operate efficiently and ruthlessly.

One operative quickly injected a certain drug into the necks of Petersen and Hansen.

Both men's eyelids fluttered, and they immediately passed out.

Another operative began dealing with the corpse and bloodstains on the floor.

Su Qingxue hesitated for a moment, but ultimately cooperated with the two operatives, carefully moving Chen Mo onto the stretcher.

Just as they lifted the stretcher, preparing to leave.

Chen Mo, who had been in a deep coma, suddenly twitched his fingers.

He abruptly grabbed Su Qingxue's wrist.

His eyes remained closed, but his lips were moving unconsciously.

Su Qingxue immediately leaned down, putting her ear close to his mouth.

A faint yet incredibly clear word entered her ear.

"Mag... netic... levitation..."