CIATB Chapter 299 Brand!
Chapter 299 Brand!
The man in black remained silent for a few seconds.
Then the hood lifted slightly.
Ito only saw a pair of eyes.
It is not a human eye.
The pupils are vertical, and the irises are dark red, like solidified magma.
There was nothing in those eyes that belonged to any living being, but Ito read in them a very ancient hunger.
A chill ran down his spine.
You don't need to know too much.
"That's what the man in black said."
"All you need to know is... the whole world will be 'God's' pasture."
"And you are just the first animal in the pasture to come over and bow your head."
This statement, placed in any normal context, would have made Ito furious.
But looking at the two empty spots on the floor, he suppressed all his emotions.
Livestock is livestock.
Animals that live are better than people who die.
"I agree."
When Takehiko Ito uttered those three words, his voice was steady, and his gaze was fixed directly on the other person.
He never defined himself as a samurai, a believer, or a loyal subject.
Those were spiritual opium instilled in those below.
He only believes in one thing.
win.
A laugh came from under the hood of the man in black.
It was clearer and longer than the previous sound, like something vibrating in the throat.
"Accept the gifts from 'God'."
The man in black raised his right hand.
Ito noticed the hand.
Long and slender, unnaturally pale, with fine, dark red lines at the knuckles, like the blood vessels beneath the skin were hot.
Extend your index finger.
The fingertips pointed in Ito's direction.
"Don't move."
Ito didn't move.
The finger pointed at Ito from a distance of four meters—but the space seemed to be folded, and the fingertip appeared directly between Ito's eyebrows.
The moment they made contact, Ito's body tensed up.
It doesn't hurt.
It's cold.
An extreme cold seeped from the depths of his bone marrow, as if something had poured into his skull from the tip of his finger, then poured down his spine, flowing through his limbs and every blood vessel.
His heart rate plummeted from 72 to 41, then surged to 160, before dropping back to 50. The entire process took less than three seconds.
The finger was retracted.
Takehiko Ito lowered his head and looked at his hands.
The veins on the back of his hand were thicker than before. When he clenched his fist, he heard a cracking sound from his knuckles—not the creaking of aging, but the dull thud of metal colliding.
power.
He could feel a primal, raw power, unlike anything he had ever experienced, coursing through every corner of his body.
It wasn't just about strength. His five senses were also changing—he heard the phone ringing in the next office, the sound of a guard's rifle butt hitting the wall as he changed shifts at the end of the corridor, and the sound of a fish swimming across the water in the harbor 300 meters away.
This information flooded his brain at once, but he didn't feel confused. His thought processing speed also changed.
"Feel it well." The voice in black seemed to come from a great distance. "This is only a small part."
Ito looked up and walked to the full-length mirror next to the desk.
I didn't look much different in the mirror. A fifty-seven-year-old face, graying sideburns, and a crisp uniform.
Except for the area between the eyebrows.
There is a mark in the very center of my forehead.
It is dark red, about one centimeter long, and shaped like an upright eye. If you don't look closely, you might mistake it for a shallow scar.
But Ito knew it wasn't a scar. It was throbbing—its rhythm matching his heartbeat.
The man in black took a step back and stepped aside to make way for the doorway.
Two figures walked in silently.
Two people—or rather, two "things." They were human-shaped, dressed in black coats with their hoods pulled low. But Ito's newly acquired sensory abilities allowed him to perceive things that ordinary humans couldn't.
The oppressive aura emanating from these two figures was more than ten times stronger than that of the two bodyguards who had just been killed.
No.
More than a hundred times.
"These are your men," the man in black said.
Ito stared at the two silent, black figures. They stood there motionless, like two lifeless statues.
"They listen to me?"
"You bear the mark of 'God.' Before 'God' descended, they obeyed those who bore the mark."
Ito turned around, her gaze returning to the man in black. "What do you need me to do?"
"Find that man," the man in black said. "You know who I'm talking about."
Takehiko Ito's eyes darkened slightly.
Of course he knew.
That young man from China possessed mechanical technology far ahead of his time, had sunk three warships, created a combat mech in the form of a tiger, and was accompanied by the most powerful woman in all of East Asia.
The Tanaka exchange group was humiliated by this person.
The "samurai" agents he sent out were all wiped out by this man.
His fleet turned tail and fled at the sight of any suspected signal at sea.
Zhang Yan.
"Find him."
"That's what the man in black said."
"Apart from that ancient thing in his hand, what do you humans call it again?"
His dark red vertical pupils, hidden beneath the hood, narrowed slightly.
"The heart of nature's craftsmanship".
Takehiko Ito clenched his fist. The metallic clanging of his knuckles was particularly clear in the quiet office.
The last time he tried to eliminate Zhang Yan, he used intelligence warfare and espionage. The result was a complete failure.
But it's different now.
He looked down at his hands. Dark red lines stretched from his wrists to his fingertips, like circuit diagrams buried beneath his skin.
"I see."
The man in black fell silent. His figure faded away like a wisp of smoke, from outline to shadow to the last trace of presence. Three seconds later, only Ito Takehiko and the two silent black figures remained in the office.
Ito stood in front of the mirror, watching the dark red mark between his eyebrows slowly pulsate.
Outside the window, the waters of Yokosuka Naval Base shimmered, and warships were quietly lined up in their berths.
He turned around, sat back down behind his desk, and picked up the phone.
"The intelligence department?"
"I need the latest heading data for that underwater target."
"All of them."
……
At this moment, the underwater depth is 150 meters.
The sea-devouring shark glided silently through the icy water. Zhang Yan leaned against the cockpit, his eyes closed.
The flight path map on the holographic screen showed that there were still 900 kilometers to go before reaching the target landing point.
My phone vibrated.
Nie Qingcheng: "Twelve hours have passed."
Zhang Yan opened his eyes and glanced at the time. Two minutes to go.
"Everything is normal, we're almost there."
"What's the temperature there now?"
"Constant underwater temperature"
I said outside.
"I haven't gone up yet, so I don't know."
Nie Qingcheng posted an emoji—a round cat shivering from the cold.
Then she posted another one.
"Zhang Yan".
"Um."
There's something I haven't told you.
"What?"
"My intelligence team intercepted a message today. The northern patrol formation of the Japanese Navy sent an urgent report to headquarters—reporting the detection of a suspected unidentified underwater target."
Zhang Yan's fingers paused for a moment.
"The formation did not pursue, but withdrew directly. However, the report was sent back to Yokosuka."
"Takehiko Ito will see it."
Zhang Yan typed: "I know."
Aren't you worried?
"What are you worried about? Last time he sent an entire squadron to chase me, and I outmaneuvered him for hours and he came back empty-handed. This time, he was scared away by the sonar echoes from more than 30 kilometers away."
"Fear makes people do stupid things," Nie Qingcheng posted another message. "The more afraid he is of you, the more likely he is to take risks."
Zhang Yan looked at the message but didn't reply immediately.
She's right.
People who are terrified to the extreme have two reactions.
One option is to completely back down and stop provoking others.
Another approach is to seek any means to turn the tide, driven by fear—whatever those means may be.
Takehiko Ito is the latter.
"I will be careful."
Zhang Yan types.
"You be careful too, take her with you when you go out."
"She" refers to that mechanical doll.
"I've already brought it."
"The board members had very interesting expressions when they saw the two of me walk in today's board meeting."
Zhang Yan imagined the scene and a slight smile appeared on his lips.
"Go ahead and get busy, I'll contact you next time."
"Um."
Nie Qingcheng posted one last message.
"Five days, I'm counting down."
Zhang Yan put down his phone.
The only sound in the cockpit was the low-frequency hum of the power unit.
The countdown in the corner of the holographic screen: seven months and twenty-eight days.
The sea-devouring shark continued its silent advance at a depth of 150 meters, like a black blade slicing through the icy seawater, cutting towards Siberia.
Nine hundred kilometers.
He was on his way.
Everyone is on their way.