Skinwalker Belle – Chapter 299 – The Ruthless Person

The space didn’t explode.

The moment Wang Shan crushed the pair of jade walnuts, there was no earth-shattering blaze of fire as one might imagine, nor was there a deafening roar.

The space of the entire conference room seemed to turn into a piece of crumpled waste paper.

Hum.

A ripple of decay spread through the air, as if an invisible black hole had instantly opened its maw.

Retreat!

Lin Fan’s reaction was incredibly fast.

Almost at the very instant that obscure fluctuation spilled out, the high heels on her feet violently shattered the solid wood tabletop, and her entire body transformed into a phantom imperceptible to the naked eye, retreating explosively.

Her level-seven physical body erupted with power, instantly passing through the not-yet-fully-sealed doorway.

Crack!

The very moment the tips of her hair floated past the doorframe, a crisp crack echoed from behind her.

It was the tragic cry of steel, concrete, and human bodies being instantly compressed to their absolute limit.

Lin Fan stopped at the end of the corridor and glanced back.

The once spacious and luxurious conference room had now completely vanished.

In its place was a perfectly spherical void with a diameter of fifty meters.

And at the center of the void, a fist-sized, dark-red ball of flesh levitated.

It was a product formed from the hard alloy conference table, the expensive flooring, the bulletproof glass, and the dozen or so high-ranking Federation officials who hadn’t had time to react, all forcibly kneaded together.

Blood dripped from the dense sphere, pattering onto the ground.

“What a move.”

Leaning against the cold metal wall, Lin Fan gazed at the bloody yet artistic scene before her and couldn’t help but pull out a cigarette and light it.

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That old bastard was truly ruthless.

That pair of walnuts was clearly some kind of single-use spatial artifact.

One was for spatial transfer, the other for spatial compression.

While escaping, he not only tried to take Lin Fan down with him but also intended to silence all his colleagues in the room who knew his secrets.

He didn’t even spare his own people, not even offering a single word of warning.

Such cold-blooded decision-making was truly befitting of a Federation tyrant who could raise living people like livestock.

Lin Fan’s Mental Strength instantly spread out like a giant net, radiating madly in all directions from her position.

Nothing.

The three auras had completely disappeared, not even leaving a trace behind.

“They sure run fast.”

Lin Fan retracted her Mental Strength, not too disappointed.

A cunning rabbit has three burrows.

Since Wang Shan dared to use this base as his stronghold, he must have prepared an escape route long ago.

Moreover, from the rough scan just now, although this underground base was quite large, the only real combat power it had was these three thousand-odd puppet soldiers.

For a high-ranking Federation official who aspired to continue the human race, or rather, rule it, this amount of military strength was far too shabby.

At best, this place was just a transit station. His real lair was surely hidden in a deeper, more concealed location.

“Still, it wasn’t a wasted trip.”

Lin Fan looked down at her palm.

Following that intense emotional fluctuation just now, the vortex within her body named “Faith Feedback” was spinning wildly.

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Although Wang Shan had escaped, the information he revealed before leaving was very interesting.

The capital’s die-hard faction.

Biological weapons.

Dragon Clan gene modification.

Connecting these keywords, one could guess what kind of anti-human schemes those old men in high positions were up to without even having to think hard.

In Wang Shan’s eyes, she, Lin Fan, was the so-called “secret weapon sent by the capital.”

This misunderstanding was simply wonderful.

Since he believed it, the capital was definitely taking the fall for this.

Once Wang Shan fled back, he would inevitably gather his forces to deal with his “sworn enemies” in the capital. And when the people in the capital faced the sudden attack, they would surely blame it on Wang Shan’s group of “surrenderists.”

When dogs bite dogs, you get a mouthful of fur.

Lin Fan loved watching this kind of drama the most.

As long as those high-ranking Federation officials were consumed by internal conflict, she, the true “fisherman,” could leisurely reap the rewards from behind the scenes.

“Time to go inspect my spoils of war.”

Lin Fan tidied her somewhat messy silver hair and turned to walk toward the living quarters.

There, three thousand newborn “believers” were waiting for her.

The doors to the living quarters were pushed open by an invisible force, letting out a dull rumble.

The underground hall, originally as noisy as a marketplace, seemed to have its mute button pressed the moment Lin Fan stepped inside.

Three thousand pairs of eyes, their clarity just restored, were all fixed on that figure.

The black leather jacket and pants, paired with high-heeled leather boots, seemed out of place in the cold, metallic base, yet possessed a beauty that made it hard to look directly at her.

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Her silver hair was scattered casually over her shoulders, and the Dragon horns on her forehead refracted the cold light at a heart-stopping angle.

There was no fear.

Not even confusion.

In those thousands of pairs of eyes, only one emotion was fermenting wildly—faith.

It was the desperation of a drowning person clutching the only piece of driftwood, the absolute devotion of a walking corpse that had rediscovered its soul.

The specially made Holy Water, enhanced by “Faith Feedback,” was not just an antidote but also a domineering brand on their minds.

Thud.

It was unclear who started it.

A burly man nearest to the door, the one who had previously taken the lead in giving his comrades water, Zhao Tiezhu, knelt as if a mountain of gold had toppled.

The crisp sound of his knees hitting the alloy floor became the final spark that lit the powder keg.

Immediately after, like reaping wheat.

Swarms of figures dropped to their knees.

There were no uniform shouts of “Greetings, My Lord,” nor any cathartic wails.

Only silence.

A deathly silence.

Several thousand soldiers, who had endured hellish torture and stained their hands with the blood of their compatriots, now groveled humbly at the feet of this seemingly delicate woman, even deliberately suppressing their breathing, afraid of disturbing a goddess.

Lin Fan stood on a raised platform, her gaze sweeping over the dark mass of people.

This feeling was very strange.

Back in Chuanxi, although the survivors’ faith in her was also fervent, it was based more on the desire for survival and power.

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But the souls of the people before her had once been shattered.

It was Lin Fan who had pieced those fragments back together, carving her own name onto every single one.

This was a bond even stronger than blood.

“All of you, rise.”

Lin Fan waved her hand casually and sat directly on a nearby ammunition box, crossing her long legs, completely devoid of any divine airs.

“I don’t like people kneeling when they talk to me. It’s tiring to look at.”

A stir went through the crowd below, but their execution was extremely efficient. Within seconds, they were all standing ramrod straight, though their slightly bowed heads still maintained absolute reverence.

Zhao Tiezhu mustered his courage and took a step forward, his voice hoarse and tinged with a tremor.

“May I be so bold as to ask… for Your Lordship’s revered name?”

This was the question in everyone’s heart.

Who was the divine being that had saved them from that damned old man?

The Dragon Clan?

No, the Dragon Clan didn’t save people; they only ate them.

Lin Fan raised an eyebrow, her fingers gently twirling a lock of silver hair.

“Lei Li.”

Lin Fan casually gave the name of her new main body, her tone lazy.

“Don’t call me ‘My Lord’ from now on. It sounds like those undying old geezers from the Federation.”

“Call me Lei Jie!”