The absolute destruction of the Tier-1 Abyssal Dread-Hound left the subterranean combat pit of the North Training Grounds in a state of suspended reality. The blinding column of violet light had entirely collapsed inward, snapping shut like a dynamic aperture and leaving only thin, static arcs of residual energy dancing across the scorched granite bedrock.
Lin Feng stood perfectly unyielding at the center of the three-meter-deep impact crater. He calmly reached down, pulled his worn utility backpack out of the dust, and slung it over his shoulder with an unremarkable, practiced motion. His breath was shallow, perfectly flat, and completely synchronized with the circulating currents of his
Ren Channel
.
High above the crater floor, on the heavily warped observation balcony, Director-General Sun dropped his prototype firearm. The weapon clattered loudly against the reinforced steel railing, but the old general didn't even register the sound. His wide, bloodshot eyes were fixed entirely on the smooth, unblemished skin of the youth below.
"General..." a senior communications technician stammered from the shattered command vehicle, his voice breaking through the localized audio frequencies. "The... the regional tracking satellites logged a zero-point energy spike. The spatial distortion baseline didn't just normalize... it was forcibly grounded by a localized physical mass. We... we don't have a mathematical template for this."
"Cancel the transmission to the Capital Core," Director-General Sun commanded, his gravelly baritone cracking slightly as he recovered his military posture. He wiped a mixture of ash and freezing drizzle from his face. "Seal this sector under Code Black. If a single byte of this telemetry leaks to the legacy clans or the shadow brokers before noon, I will personally sign the execution warrants for this entire tactical unit."
Beside him, Zhao Ming was still kneeling flat in the mud. His knuckles were bloodied where they had dug into the broken clay, his aristocratic composure utterly vaporized. The raw, primeval terror of the dread-hound had broken his psychological center, but watching Lin Feng dissolve that very same trans-dimensional nightmare with a single three-inch punch had shattered his entire understanding of existence.
A common commoner from the mud pits...
Zhao Mingās mind spun into a chaotic vortex of denial.
Old Tang spent forty years refining his pulmonary paths to reach Stage 7 Flesh Refinement... yet this monster just shattered a Tier-1 Abyssal construct with his bare hands. He didn't even deploy a traditional lineage stance. He didn't even use a weapon.
Lin Feng slowly walked up the fractured stone incline of the pit, his sneakers crunching softly against the pulverized granite dust. He stopped at the baseline of the observation stairs, looking up at Director-General Sun with a vacant, bottomless gaze that seemed completely older than the state itself.
"The dimensional tear was an accelerated variable, Director-General," Lin Feng said softly, his smooth voice cutting through the mechanical thrum of the emergency vehicles like a cold blade. "The Western fault line anchors collapsed because your engineering squads used traditional harmonic dampeners instead of high-density mineral matrices. If you don't swap out the anchors in Sector 04 by midnight, the second tear won't be a single houndāit will be a full vanguard swarm."
Director-General Sun descended the steel steps, his heavy leather trench coat swishing over the wet grates. He stopped exactly three paces from Lin Feng, his sharp, weathered eyes attempting to scrutinize the youthās internal energy cycle. But his senses found nothingāLin Fengās
Dantian
was running on a flawless, self-contained loop that completely swallowed any external tracking signatures.
"You knew the exact timing of the breach, Student Lin," Sun said, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous whisper meant only for the two of them. "The data drive you left at the Southern well saved our regional defense columns from total annihilation tonight. Who are you? No independent lineage in the five provinces possesses future geological mapping of this tier."
"I am a representative of the Jiangnan registry, General," Lin Feng replied, a cold, undefeated smile playing at the edge of his lips. "The playbooks of your Bureau are built on historical observation. My blueprint is built on the fallout. If you want to keep the capital from turning into an ash pit before the winter solstice, make sure my placement in the Advanced Special Section remains uninterrupted by the legacy clan audits."
He didn't wait for the Director-Generalās verbal confirmation. Lin Feng turned on his heel, his shadow instantly blending into the dark pine forest line as he walked back toward Dormitory Block D.
High up on the ridge, the electronic alarms of the Imperial Academy continued to blare against the gray morning fog. The local mishap of the premature spatial collapse had been thoroughly weaponized into an absolute administrative shield. The Central Bureau was now completely dependent on his telemetry, the legacy clans were hunting a ghost, and the undefeated apex of modern Huaxia had just claimed his first true foothold in the capital's grand arena.