chsdbacks Chapter 320 Intelligence and the Auction Site
Chapter 320 Intelligence and the Auction Site
Erzhuang's intelligence reports came in like snowflakes, one after another, almost without stopping.
The Sakura Ninja Association secretly dispatched more personnel, entering from Hokkaido disguised as a tour group, but in reality, all members were highly skilled. Erzhuang intercepted an internal communication that mentioned the "Susanoo Jar"—an ancient sealing artifact said to be able to imprison all "non-human beings." The thought of this thing being used on someone was chilling.
The "Snowfield Fangs" of the Bear Kingdom brazenly transported several large crates into Ussuriysk, using trucks without even covering them. Erzhuang analyzed the weight and material of the crates and deduced that they might contain heavy weapons, but could also contain an astonishing amount of "ransom"—rubles, gold, or some legendary Siberian treasure.
The movements of the "Freedom Vanguard" from the Eagle Nation were the most secretive. They didn't stay in hotels or rent houses; instead, they directly leased an abandoned Soviet-era military fortress outside Ussuriysk, making it difficult even for Er Zhuang to infiltrate. However, she caught some fragmented signals indicating that they had been in frequent contact with several international brokers and black market dealers, seemingly raising funds or special items—someone mentioned words like "Rod of God" and "Holy Nail," which made Nie Lingfeng frown.
Meanwhile, Bald Bear, besides reinforcing the factory's defenses—erecting barbed wire, adding sentries, and even somehow acquiring two anti-aircraft guns—was also actively "preparing" for the auction. He even sent rudimentary "invitations" to several major factions, printed on A4 paper with the time and location scrawled crookedly, and a bear paw print at the bottom—actually made with a bear paw dipped in ink. When Zhang Chulan saw the photos Er Zhuang sent back, he couldn't help but complain, "Is this guy serious? Using invitations like this for an auction?"
The calm before the storm is oppressive and suffocating.
Finally, on the evening of the third day, night fell.
Abandoned chemical plant west of Ussuriysk.
Unlike the quiet and guarded atmosphere three days ago, the factory area was much more "lively" tonight. The factory gate was unusually wide open, and all kinds of vehicles were parked at the entrance, ranging from luxury SUVs to dilapidated pickup trucks, and there were even two armored vehicles—those were vehicles from the "Snowfield Fang" of the Bear Kingdom, with white wolf head logos painted on the sides, which were particularly eye-catching under the headlights.
Men dressed in various outfits, their expressions wary, and clearly carrying bulging weapons at their waists or on their backs, silently walked towards the five-story office building, led by several of Bald Bear's henchmen. No one spoke; only the crunching of boots on the snow and the distant howling of the night wind filled the air. A strange stench, a mixture of engine oil, the smell of snow, tobacco, and a faint trace of gunpowder, permeated the air, instinctively instilling unease.
Nie Lingfeng and his group were also among them.
Nie Lingfeng changed into an inconspicuous black coat, holding Xiaoyun, who was wrapped tightly in a small blanket with only her eyes showing, in his arms. Xiaoyun slept peacefully, her eyelashes fluttering slightly, her little mouth occasionally smacking, completely unaware of the dangerous situation she was in. Chen Duo followed beside him, wearing a simple cotton-padded jacket, carrying a small cloth bag, her head down, like an ordinary young mother. Zhang Chulan and Daoist Wang Ye were both wearing thick down jackets and woolen hats, wrapping themselves up like balls, inconspicuous in the crowd—Wang Ye even wore black-rimmed glasses, looking like a refined university lecturer. Feng Baobao, on the other hand, wore her ever-present All-Trade uniform, with a military overcoat over it, carrying her ninja sword wrapped in cloth strips, walking at the back expressionlessly, her gaze fixed straight ahead, as if she were strolling through a market.
Their appearance attracted some attention, but it was quickly looked away. After all, the people who came here tonight were all sorts of people, from all walks of life. While it was rare to see people with women and children, it wasn't uncommon. However, a few particularly sharp gazes lingered on them for a moment—
The young ninja came from behind the elderly man in the kimono from Japan. The young man looked to be no more than twenty-five years old, with delicate features, but his eyes were as cold as knives. His gaze swept over Nie Lingfeng, then landed on the knife on Feng Baobao's back, and his brows furrowed slightly.
Among the "Snowfield Fang" team from the Bear Kingdom was a tall, thin man with a sinister gaze. He wore dark camouflage clothing, and a strangely shaped curved knife was tucked into his waistband. A red gemstone was inlaid on the hilt, which looked like a bloodshot eye under the light. He looked at Nie Lingfeng as if he were looking at prey, and the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned, revealing an ambiguous smile.
And next to the suited elite from the "Freedom Vanguard" in the United States was a blonde woman wearing gold-rimmed glasses who looked like a secretary. She was dressed in a smart women's suit, her blonde hair was tied up behind her head, and she looked harmless, but Nie Lingfeng noticed that there were thick calluses on the web of her right hand - marks left from holding knives or firing guns for a long time.
Nie Lingfeng seemed oblivious to the stares he was receiving. Holding Xiaoyun, he steadily followed the crowd into the office building, descended the familiar stairs, and once again arrived at the heavy alloy door.
The gate was wide open, and the inside was brightly lit.
The once empty hall has been simply furnished. The missile in the center still stands, cold and intimidating. The red countdown timer welded to the missile is still ticking, with approximately 72 hours remaining until it reaches zero. But the countdown seems to have been adjusted, ticking faster than before? Or is it just his imagination?
In front of the missile, there was a heavy, long wooden table, which served as the "auction table." The table was welded from steel plates and covered with a dirty red cloth, on which was printed a menacing bear—the "personal mark" of Bald Bear.
Behind the table, Bald Bear sat imposingly in an extravagant chair covered in bearskin. The chair was made of genuine brown bear skin, the bear's head still intact, its gaping mouth revealing sharp fangs, facing directly towards the auction stage, as if intimidating all bidders. A cigar dangled from his lips, his leather jacket open, revealing a menacing tattoo on his chest—a black bear and a python intertwined, crudely drawn but visually striking. Behind him stood four burly men, heavily armed, their eyes fiercely scanning everyone entering the hall, fingers on triggers, ready to fire at any moment.
People from various factions stood scattered around the hall.
The members of the Sakura Ninja Association gathered on the left, about seven or eight people. Apart from the elderly man in a kimono at the head, the rest were dressed in dark, close-fitting clothing, expressionless, and exuding a restrained aura. They stood in a loose formation, maintaining a just-right distance from each other—not hindering each other's attacks, yet able to support one another immediately. The elderly man in the kimono had his eyes closed and his hands tucked into his sleeves, as if dozing, but Nie Lingfeng noticed that his ears were twitching slightly, clearly catching every sound in the hall.
On the right, the "Snowfield Fang" of the Xiong Kingdom stood, numbering about ten. Most were dressed in clothing a mix of military and ethnic elements, their eyes arrogant as they openly scrutinized Fei Dan and the others. The scarred, bald, burly man stood at the front, arms crossed, his bulging chest muscles threatening to burst through his clothes. Behind him stood a younger, tall, thin man with sinister eyes—the same one who had sized up Nie Lingfeng at the entrance earlier.
The members of the "Freedom Vanguard" from the United States stood near the entrance, only five people in total. The man in the suit stood at the front, hands in his pockets, his expression calm, as if attending a regular business reception. Behind him, a woman with wire-rimmed glasses held a tablet computer, its screen displaying dense data. The other three burly men, who appeared to be bodyguards or technicians, wore tactical vests, were well-equipped, and had communicators in their ears; their coordination was clearly the result of rigorous training.
In addition, there were two or three other groups of people in the hall, not many in number, who looked like local gang leaders or international brokers. They were accompanied by bodyguards, their expressions wary and greedy, their eyes scanning back and forth between the missiles and various forces, like a group of sharks that had smelled blood.
Nie Lingfeng and the others found a secluded corner at the back to stand. This spot had their backs to the wall, offering a wide view and allowing them to see the movement throughout the hall. It was also only fifteen steps away from the nearest exit—Master Wang Ye had silently counted when he entered, and Zhang Chulan had personally seen his lips move.
Zhang Chulan secretly observed the people present, inwardly clicking his tongue in amazement: Good heavens, this is truly a chaotic mess. Just by sensing their auras, he knew none of them were to be trifled with. The old man from the Sakura Kingdom possessed an aura as deep and unfathomable as an abyss beneath his kimono, indicating he was at least a master of the Transformation Realm. The scarred, burly man from the Bear Kingdom had such vigorous blood and qi that it was almost tangible; his external martial arts training had probably reached the point of invulnerability. The woman with the gold-rimmed glasses from the Eagle Kingdom seemed the most harmless, but Zhang Chulan noticed that the air temperature within a meter of her was several degrees lower than elsewhere—a sign of an overflowing supernatural ability, and a very high-level one at that.
Today's auction is probably going to turn into a battlefield.
He subconsciously touched the talismans given to him by Daoist Wang Ye, which he had hidden in his pocket, along with a small signal repeater—specially made by Er Zhuang, only the size of a matchbox, yet capable of establishing a stable data link within a one-kilometer range. A small bear sticker was affixed to the repeater's surface, supposedly Er Zhuang's personal hobby; Zhang Chulan felt this sticker might be their downfall.
Soon, almost everyone who was supposed to arrive had arrived. At least fifty people had gathered in the hall, standing clearly divided, talking in hushed tones, the air thick with an unspoken tension. Every now and then, someone would glance in the direction of the missile, their eyes filled with greed, fear, and something else entirely indescribable.
Bald Bear glanced at an old-fashioned wall clock; the time was exactly eight o'clock in the evening. He took a deep drag on his cigar, exhaling thick smoke that swirled in the lamplight like an invisible monster. Then he coughed loudly and stood up.
"Ahem! Everyone, quiet down!"
His rough, hoarse voice echoed in the hall, drowning out the hushed conversations and the faint sound of the wind in the distance. All eyes were on him.
"I don't like nonsense!" Bald Bear cut to the chase, pointing to the missile behind him, "You've all seen it, it's the real deal! The power... hehe, enough to send Ussuriysk, along with the small town on the other side of the border, flying into the sky!"
He was pleased to see the fear and greed on some people's faces. Some people's pupils contracted for a moment, some people's Adam's apples bobbed up and down, and some people pretended not to care, but their fingers clenched unconsciously.
"This thing, along with some 'bonus items' I found down there—" He paused deliberately, whetting everyone's appetite, his gaze sweeping over the crowd's faces, "Today, the highest bidder wins! The rules are simple: you can use money, or you can use valuable 'hard goods'—like cultivation manuals, magic weapons and pills, rare materials, or… valuable intelligence and lives! There's no upper limit, and as for the lower limit—" He grinned, revealing a set of yellow teeth, "there's no reserve price either! Who will bid first?"
The hall fell silent for a moment.
It was so quiet that you could hear the faint hum of the overhead light bulb, the deliberately hushed breathing of some people, and even the soft rustling of snow falling on the roof.