Reid withdrew back behind the counter, took off his shirt, and wrapped it around his wrist, barely stopping the bleeding.
The sound of steel clashing was incessant, dense and thick with the scent of blood, filling the entire room.
Reid no longer wanted to look outside; it must be filled with brutal scenes. He looked up and spotted a brass button beneath the counter. Without thinking, he pressed it, then stretched out his hand, straining to pry open the wooden plank, revealing a pitch-black hidden passage.
Seizing the moment while others occupied Bologue, he crawled into the passage in disgrace. Before closing the hatch, more harrowing screams echoed, as if a massacre was happening inside the clinic.
Who exactly is this guy?
The question stormed through Reid's mind, but he lacked the courage to ask Bologue. From the very first moment of the conflict, Reid, relying on his years of life-and-death experiences, realized that Bologue was different from ordinary people, beyond what they could handle.
This suffocating oppressive force, terrifying yet extremely familiar.
Having roamed the Wandering Crossroads for so long, Reid instantly realized who the opponent was.
The Great Rift is a chaotic land, but within the chaos lies a basic understanding, or perhaps a form of order.
It might sound ridiculous, a land of chaos having order, but that's reality. Even the most chaotic "ecology" has an absolute powerhouse to establish necessary rules.
Reid paid taxes to the "Tyrant," so generally speaking, no one would trouble him in the Wandering Crossroads. Therefore, there's a high chance Bologue came from outside.
But few outsiders would come here to execute justice; to have such leisure and be so fearsome, it could only be those people.
"Order Bureau's lackeys."
Reid cursed with pain, moving awkwardly through the narrow hidden passage, hugging the walls closely.
"Have I been noticed after all?"
He muttered to himself. As a member of this clinic, Reid was very aware of the kind of business being conducted here. He had considered being targeted by the Order Bureau, and although he was mentally prepared, the reality of such a nightmare was still deeply unsettling.
This was beyond what Reid could handle; for the moment, only that guy could resist even slightly.
"Open up! Norm! People from the Order Bureau are here!"
The passage reached its end, blocked by a heavy, specially-made iron door. A second or two later, the iron door swung open, a sturdy arm reached out, grabbing Reid, pulling him in.
"Stop shouting, I received the alarm."
Such a sound echoed in the dark. When Reid pressed the alarm beneath the counter, the signal had already been received here.
Reid fell onto the ground, the heavy iron door shut tight again. After a few crisp clicks, multiple locks tightly secured it, making the door solid.
This measure was prepared early on. The specially reinforced iron door could withstand a lot of firepower, and the narrow passage further restricted the invader's actions.
Even those Order Bureau guys would need some time to break through such a specially made iron door.
"Norm, time to escape!" Reid struggled to stand up, gasping for breath.
The Order Bureau, that mysterious organization akin to an urban legend, couldn't even be compared to shadows like Wandering Crossroads, let alone their bunch trying to sneak and survive in the shadows.
Reid's first thought was to run; he never thought about resisting anything, not even having the courage to fight back.
A contemptuous voice sounded, and Reid looked toward the direction of the voice, seeing Norm emerging from the darkness.
Just like the photo, Norm was a burly bald man, his exposed skin covered in complex tattoos.
"How many people are there on the opposite side?"
"One person, only one!" Reid answered hurriedly.
Norm dragged him into the depths of darkness, where curtains hung down everywhere, rows of beds placed in the dim light, the air filled with the heavy scent of disinfectant and a slight decaying stench.
Norm's eyes sparkled with strange light, and he continued to ask.
"Does he have anything unusual? For instance, does he have glowing patterns on his body?"
"What... what is that?" Reid couldn't understand.
"So there's none?" Seeing Reid's reaction, Norm stated directly, but soon he hesitated, mumbling.
"Maybe those guys are too weak, not forcing him to use 'Secret Energy.'
"'Secret Energy'? What's that?"
Reid heard the unfamiliar term and couldn't resist asking.
Ultimately, Reid was just one of Norm's employees, helping maintain the clinic's facade business. He was aware of the Demon's existence and knew Norm was dealing with Condensed Philosopher's Stone business, but Reid didn't know much more information. His knowledge of the Extraordinary World came from Norm; Reid wasn't a Demon but a complete ordinary person.
Initially participating in such business terrified Reid. He never imagined that demons existing only in stories could be real, but as business thrived, he perhaps got used to it or became numb, becoming part of the madness.
"No... this isn't right. This style of doing things doesn't resemble the Order Bureau," Norm didn't respond to Reid's question, fully immersed in his own thoughts. "The Order Bureau is always secretive and lethal, while this guy seems like a rising murderer."