Chapter 19: High-Risk Specimen

Chapter 19: High-Risk Specimen

The black horse carried a severely injured comrade forward at a rapid pace.

The group fell into formation, slowly following the path the horse had taken.

Jing Rong walked at the front of the group, with over a dozen pairs of eyes piercing into his back.

The youngest signalman in the group, only thirteen years old, still harbored suspicions. He quietly asked You Tier, “Can we take this chance to…”

You Tier smacked him on the head. “Are you stupid? Are we any match for him now? If we’re going to fight, we should wait until we follow him back to town and find the right opportunity…”

They still couldn’t bring themselves to fully trust Jing Rong.

The people of Olk were cunning, especially the Arbiters—those were a bunch of lunatics with overwhelming psychic energy. Once bitten, twice shy.

“But the cipher he brought was the exact encryption method the leader used to contact us!”

Jue’s message was written on a piece of rough fabric. They had already passed it around and deciphered it, which was one of the main reasons they had decided to follow Jing Rong.

Another reason was that Jing Rong had given them supplies.

The black-haired, black-eyed young man took off his cloak and wrapped it around the frostbitten men. All his medical supplies and rations were handed over to them.

Among them was an injured man who had been unconscious for two days. After a brief examination, Jing Rong said, “We can’t delay any longer. He needs to be rushed back for emergency amputation, or he won’t survive past sunset.”

That injured man was placed on the horse and sent ahead to Jieke Town.

“How bizarre…” You Tier laughed bitterly. “I was actually saved by an Arbiter…”

His gaze lingered on Jing Rong.

Jing Rong wore black clothes, so it wasn’t obvious.

But wherever he stepped, fresh blood still marked his path. Not much, just scattered droplets.

No. 626 returned from eavesdropping, somewhat annoyed. “I thought they’d show more gratitude. You could’ve walked away completely unharmed.”

Jing Rong still couldn’t see, but his voice was calm, showing his indifference. “They’ve just never been treated peacefully before. Warmth can dull the mind, but so can war and bitter cold.”

This world had twisted too many people beyond recognition—even wild wolves had been driven to desire, obsession, and hatred.

Jing Rong had never intended to interfere too much with such world lines.

“But since we’ve already taken the first step, ignoring the rest would only lead to worse consequences.”

No. 626 fell silent for a moment before saying, “Brother, let me treat your wounds.”

“No need. They’re just surface wounds.” Jing Rong took a deep breath of the icy air. “Just give me a cigarette.”

Eight hours later.

Jing Rong had escorted all the Olk troops and guerrilla fighters near the Fifth Frontline back to safety.

Medical tents and supply stations had already been set up at the town’s entrance. Thick canvas blocked out the wind and snow outside, and everyone was working frantically.

“You Tier! It’s You Tier’s squad! This is miraculous news. We have to tell the leader immediately!”

The child assigned to deliver soup ran excitedly through the snow. All the residents of Flaming Isle huddled together, overjoyed. “This is amazing… The guerrillas have spent three whole years living hand-to-mouth. Thank the heavens! Thank the heavens for bringing you back!”

Jing Rong held a cigarette between his lips, watching the red-haired people rushing about in the blizzard. Casually, he called out to a child, “Where’s your leader?”

The child clearly hadn’t expected to be addressed by him. He took a few steps back, then blushed and pointed toward the observation tower. “The leader just finished surveying the railway with the men and is in a meeting now! But since You Tier’s back, the leader will definitely come to see him!”

“Good.” Jing Rong searched through his pocket for a while before pulling out a piece of gingerbread he’d brought from the capital. “Thank you, soldier. You’ve served well.”

The child’s eyes instantly sparkled with delight. “Yes! You’ve worked hard too!”

News traveled fast. Soon, Jue emerged through the snowstorm.

The striking red-haired young man was surrounded by the crowd, striding forward. The moment he saw You Tier, he crushed him in a fierce hug.

Jue’s fingertips trembled slightly.

This was one of the few comrades who had survived after working tirelessly to contact and assist him.

“Thank the heavens. Fate has spared us,” Jue murmured. “How are the others?”

You Tier replied, “Allen’s frostbite requires amputation. An Arbiter—well, a black-haired, black-eyed man brought us back. He carried your message.”

Jue gripped his hand. “He’s with me. You can trust him completely… Where is he?”

His gaze swept outward until it landed on Jing Rong, leaning against a tent and smoking.

Jing Rong quirked his lips slightly in his direction.

The wind carried Jue’s scent.

You Tier was overwhelmed with guilt and struggled to speak. “Leader, we initially thought he was… an enemy. He took a psychic blast for me.”

Jue’s expression shifted instantly. His steps quickened, growing more urgent. Ignoring the onlookers, he asked directly, “Brother, are you hurt?”

Jing Rong never made much of injuries—especially since this one would surely heal by tomorrow. “It’s nothing. You know I don’t have psychic energy, so these things don’t affect me much.”

He took a slow drag from his cigarette, his eyes calm and steady with quiet humor. “How’s the status of the railway tracks?”

Seeing that he really did seem fine, Jue relaxed slightly and allowed himself to be diverted. “Our people have already set up nearby. The armored train runs every half hour, and there are two supply trains per day. The next one’s at nine.”

Jing Rong asked, “What time is it now?”

He rarely asked for the time.

Jue detected something amiss but answered, “Eight, brother.”

He detected no visible injury on Jing Rong, but his instincts as a leader told him something was off.

Jue said, “Brother, stay in the tent and rest. You’ve been through enough today.”

Jing Rong shook his head. “I’ll go with you.”

Jue glanced at him but didn’t press further. Instead, he stepped forward and briefly leaned against him. “Thank you, brother.”

Jing Rong replied, “Don’t mention it, dear.”

Jue, who had never been called that in his life, felt blood rush to his head, leaving him momentarily speechless. “You—”

Jing Rong just kept smiling at him, taking advantage of Jue’s momentary shock to stand and follow the recon team out.

Their plan was to gather all the hydraulic braking systems and forcibly stop the incoming supply train, but the rest of the group were unaware of the next phase.

Jing Rong stood in the snowstorm, watching as everyone made their preparations amidst the wind and snow, timing their actions as they switched to hydraulic buffers.

The train whistled in the distance, bearing down on them.

"It's coming!"

Everyone surged forward, dressed in station uniforms, stepping onto the platform.

Jue stood right in the middle of the tracks, watching as the train inched past the buffers, lurching violently with each one it rolled over.

The train swayed violently, and the soldiers and officers aboard shouted, "What's going on?"

"It's the Crimson Islanders!"

The engineer was the first to spot Jue at the end of the tracks. Jue stood in the wind, his red hair fluttering like a specter.

The engineer hit the alarm: "Speed up! Speed up! Damn it, push through! The Crimson Islanders have taken the station!"

The boiler burned fiercely, the train accelerating inch by inch, only to be slowed down again.

Jue raised his hand, and the resonance of his mental energy instantly white-hotted the rails ahead, causing them to melt and soften. The carriages behind the locomotive collapsed with a cataclysmic impact.

Meanwhile, Jing Rong stood at the far end of the platform, hauling himself up into the locomotive and hurling the engineer clear before disengaging the couplings between the engine and the rest of the train.

Youtier, standing beside Jue, shouted, "Chief, that Ork went alone! Should we back him up?"

Jue had already coordinated their moves with Jing Rong. After a moment's thought, he smiled. "You can go after him—help me keep him safe."

Youtier, receiving the order, took off at a run, though he gave Jue a sidelong look at the ambiguous phrasing.

Jue's eyes shone with exhilaration and dark amusement.

They quickly overpowered the crew on the supply train.

Though part of the military rail network, the supply train was lightly guarded.

Jue immediately disabled all comms, and the remaining personnel were rounded up while the supplies were hauled to Jieke Town's warehouse.

"Chief, their next war train arrives in half an hour. What do we do then?" asked a sentry beside him. "We've intercepted the supply train, but the war train transports a full brigade. We don't have the manpower."

Jue replied, "The war train won't be coming."

The others looked at him in confusion.

Jue placed a finger to his lips, then pointed at the wall clock.

Only ten minutes remained until the war train's scheduled arrival, yet there was no trace of it—no sound, no signal.

Instead, the sky and earth seemed to echo with thunder.

"Is that thunder?" The group looked at each other in confusion. "How can there be thunder in a blizzard?"

Only Youtier, who had followed Jing Rong, knew what was happening.

*

He watched as Jing Rong handled the controls like a veteran, driving the locomotive over the diverging rails, heading straight toward the oncoming war train.

Twenty minutes later, they reached a deserted cliffside.

Youtier blurted out, "Where is this?"

"A section of the war train's elevated track. Twelve hundred meters long," Jing Rong answered.

He didn't mind the guerrilla leader's sudden presence. After stopping the locomotive, Jing Rong planted his boots in the snow.

The ground quaked as the vibrations from the train's wheels rolled forward. Youtier could already see the war train's lights.

Then, the tracks ahead vanished.

Youtier saw a weapon gleaming with a liquid silver glow—something that seemed not of this earth.

The next moment, the mountain across the ravine was sliced clean through midair, its fragile iron rails collapsing with an earth-shaking crash. Like an avalanche of steel, the entire track tilted toward the slope, dragging the approaching train off the rails and sending it crashing into the ground.

Jing Rong had, with brutal efficiency, severed the mountain.

Severed the only path the enemy had into Jieke Town for the entire winter.

"The war train is the linchpin of the Ork Empire's war machine. It delivers Justicars, soldiers, and supplies deep into enemy territory, hammering the people of Ember Isle into retreat—even losing their capital."

*

"In the past, we tried to stop the war train, but destroying the tracks only led to quick repairs. Attacking the train only drew immediate reprisals..."

Jue stood on the platform, waiting for Jing Rong's return, speaking softly to his comrades. "But that man... he has a way."

The time came.

The war train never arrived.

Only the snowstorm grew fiercer, visibility vanishing.

Jue waved a hand. "Everyone, go rest for today. I'll wait here for him."

The others obeyed, gradually leaving the station.

Visibility was so poor that not even train lights could be seen.

Jue waited with his hands in his pockets until, finally, he heard a short whistle. His eyes lit up as he made for the train door.

The door opened, steam geysering forth as Youtier stumbled off first—

Now, he was certain: this Justicar wasn't human.

This man was a supernatural being, wielding power only a supernatural being could possess.

626 announced, "We've arrived. Slowing down... yes, yes."

Jing Rong asked, "Where's Jue?"

"Outside. He's waiting for you."

Jing Rong nodded, groping blindly with his hands before seizing the doorframe and jumping out.

Swirling snow obscured the space between him and Jue.

Jue immediately closed the distance. "Brother."

Jing Rong stood still, turning toward his voice but neither moving nor speaking.

Compared to before, his gaze was even more distant, resting calmly near Jue's collar. "I'm back."

He opened his arms to him, but Jue didn’t nestle into his arms as usual.

Jing Rong heard Jue’s breathing grow rapid. After a few seconds of silence, his voice rang out urgently, “Brother, what’s wrong with your eyes?”

Jing Rong replied calmly, “I can’t see for the time being.”

After the psychic detonation, the bloody haze in his vision had never faded. Using his powers tonight had made it worse.

Jing Rong’s hearing, sense of smell, and intuition far surpassed that of ordinary people, so no one would normally notice his state.

He extended a hand toward Jue. “Will you take me back, my leader?”