68: Chapter 68 The Secret of the Locked Room

"Alright, let me see what treasures you've hidden."

The moment the door was pushed open, a cold current rushed towards him, carrying a scent similar to ancient wood burning slowly in a fire—dry, pungent, stinging the nasal cavity like inhaling a puff of cold smoke.

Yan Zheng narrowed his eyes and turned on his flashlight.

The beam swept across the interior of the secret room, illuminating a space completely different from what he had expected.

There were no weapon racks, no training grounds, and no ninja camping facilities.

There were only three things in the entire secret room.

Dense inscriptions covered the walls, extending from the floor to the ceiling, with dark red light flowing through the stone crevices like blood vessels.

In the center of the floor was a stone altar, roughly two meters square, with a black iron spike inserted into each of its four corners, wrapped in some kind of withered vine.

Suspended above the altar was a black crystal the size of a fist.

The surface of the crystal was as smooth as a mirror, with dark red light spots slowly swimming inside, like a pulsing heart sealed within amber.

The buzzing sound came from here.

He stood at the doorway without rushing in, opening his system panel to scan the crystal.

The data on the system panel flickered for a long time, longer than any previous scan.

The final result that popped up caused his fingers to tighten on the handle of his scalpel.

[Unknown occult item. Energy level: Far exceeds the system's current analytical capabilities; a complete assessment cannot be provided. Preliminary judgment: Concentrated Dark Energy crystal, quasi-artifact level. The total energy content is over three hundred times that of The Hand's ritual bone materials. Warning: Direct contact may lead to unpredictable energy backlash.]

"Quasi-artifact level."

Yan Zheng chewed on these four words.

"Three hundred times."

"If I bring this thing back, my inscription shielding array will be more than just capable of blocking Stark sensors."

"I could build a complete Dark Energy circulation system throughout the entire Underground Room, and the recovery speed of Undead Creation inside would double, or even triple."

"This isn't just a piece of material."

"This is infrastructure."

He stepped into the secret room, the sound of his rubber boot soles hitting the stone floor echoing in the spacious room.

When he was five meters away from the altar, he stopped.

"Something's wrong."

His nose twitched, and he smelled another scent besides the burning ancient wood.

The smell of sweat.

The smell of a living person's sweat.

It was faint, but exceptionally abrupt in this secret room where the temperature was near zero.

The beam of the flashlight slowly moved towards the rear right of the secret room.

There was a recessed area he hadn't noticed when entering, where the inscriptions on the wall formed an arched outline.

Another entrance.

"That's far enough."

The voice came from that arched shadow, flat and restrained, every syllable sounding like the back of a knife scraping against a cutting board.

English with a Japanese accent.

Yan Zheng's feet were nailed to the spot, and he shone the flashlight beam over.

A figure walked out from the shadows.

It completely didn't match the image of the ninja leader in his mind.

No black ninja outfit, no mask, no leaking killing intent.

The person in front of him was wearing a pure white kimono, with dark patterns embroidered on the lapels, originating from the same source as the inscriptions on the walls of the secret room.

He looked young, no more than thirty, but his skin was so pale it lacked the blood color a living person should have, and there was a sickly look between his brows from long-term lack of sunlight.

His hands were crossed over his chest, his posture as relaxed as a homeowner seeing an uninvited guest in his own living room.

Yan Zheng opened the system panel.

The data on the panel popped up even faster than when he scanned the crystal, so fast it was like something was chasing it from behind.

[Warning. Target combat power assessment: A-level or above. Black Sky Ritual complete form. Non-human level modified body. Suggestion: Retreat immediately.]

Yan Zheng looked at the red text on the panel.

A-level.

Knight is B-level upper limit.

Brute is B-level mid-range.

A-level or above meant that the Photon Ray from Knight, which could pierce three walls, might not even burn his clothes if it hit him.

"You are Nogami?"

His voice sounded much steadier than his actual heartbeat.

The other party's gaze shifted from Yan Zheng's face to the doorway behind him, where the stairs were, and up the stairs were Knight and Brute who couldn't enter.

"Your puppets cannot enter."

Nogami's mouth corners twitched, a very small arc, not quite a smile.

"In this room, it is only you and me."

He lowered his right hand from his chest, fingers splayed, palm facing down.

Black energy surged from his palm, condensing, rotating, and elongating in the air, forming a solid 1.2-meter long blade within three seconds, the dark patterns on the blade pulsing in sync with the inscriptions on the walls.

Yan Zheng looked at the blade, then at the 14-centimeter scalpel in his own hand.

The size difference was a bit hurtful.

"Necromancer."

Nogami hung the long blade at his side, his tone similar to reading a menu.

"You killed thirty-seven of my subordinates."

"Thirty-seven lives, thirty-seven years of training, thirty-seven complete sets of Black Sky Ritual modifications."

"You took their bones."

"You turned them into your puppets."

Yan Zheng did not deny it, nor did he nod.

He turned off the flashlight and stuffed it into his pocket; the light from the secret room's inscriptions was enough to illuminate the distance between the two.

Six meters.

"Sir, the accurate number is fourteen."

Yan Zheng pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, his tone in his usual gentle manner.

"There were only fourteen tonight, not thirty-seven."

"If there were any other misunderstandings on the street earlier, I might have missed a few entries when keeping accounts, and for that, I really must apologize."

Nogami's eyelid twitched.

"Are you playing word games with me?"

"I am verifying the data with you, sir."

Yan Zheng's scalpel spun half a circle between his fingers, blade pointing down, his posture relaxed.

"After all, clear accounts make things easier for both parties."

Nogami looked at him for three seconds.

In those three seconds, the buzzing sound of the secret room grew heavier, and the dark red light spots inside the crystal above the altar visibly accelerated their swimming speed.

"Accounts?"

Nogami's voice dropped half a degree.

"You broke into my sanctuary, killed my people, touched things you shouldn't have, and now you're standing here reconciling accounts with me?"

"If you put it that way, the nature of tonight is indeed quite serious."

Yan Zheng took half a step back, his heel lightly touching the edge of the door frame behind him, confirming the location of his retreat path.

"But I would like to point out a fact, sir."

"Your thirty-seven subordinates—fine, let's go with your number—if their bones and ritual modification materials fell into The Hands of any other faction outside, guess what would happen?"

"Kingpin would sell them for money, S.H.I.E.L.D. would use them for experiments, and HYDRA would use them to make weapons."

"But I am different."

Yan Zheng put the scalpel back into his tool kit, freeing up both hands.

"I will let them continue to stand."

"In a different way, but still standing."

Nogami's expression did not change, but his right hand holding the Dark Energy long blade tightened a notch.

"Pay with your life."

He slid one foot across the stone floor, his body's center of gravity shifted forward by two inches, and the tip of the blade lifted, pointing at Yan Zheng's Adam's apple.

Yan Zheng stood by the door frame with empty hands.

A distance of six meters.

An A-level or above non-human modified body.

An secret room where Undead Creation could not enter.

A scalpel put back in the bag.

The corners of his mouth curved into an arc, very small, but indeed curving.

"Sir, before you make a move, I have a purely academic question I would like to ask."

Nogami did not speak, the tip of the blade steadily pointing in Yan Zheng's direction.

Yan Zheng gestured with his chin toward the black crystal floating above the altar.

"Is that thing your heart, or your battery?"