MCL CH11

Chapter 11: The Century Funeral

With a new identity secured, the very first thing Lin Xi did was go to a large mobile phone store and purchase the latest model phone, along with a new SIM card.

Compared to an ordinary ID, an ability-user’s independent authentication code was far more convenient. The process was completed quickly.

Leaving the phone store, he dropped by a neighboring shopping mall and afterward checked into a decent-looking hotel nearby.

[Now I finally understand why you borrowed money. Honestly, even the twenty thousand you borrowed feels like it won’t last you long.]

As soon as he entered the room, the contemptuous voice in his head sounded: [Booking the best room possible—even if this hotel isn’t that high of a star rating, you still nearly blew all the cash you had left.]

“Although I possess the fine qualities of diligence and endurance, I’ve never been one to wrong myself.” Lin Xi picked up the new clothes he had just bought and walked into the bathroom. Soon after, the sound of running water echoed out. “Don’t peek.”

[I have no interest in you humans’ flesh… Besides, I’ve shut my eyes. Well, that’s if I had eyes, hee hee hee.]

Lin Xi: “…”

[Alright, that was a pretty bad joke.]

[See you later.]

Lin Xi quickly showered. Standing in front of the mirror while changing clothes, he stopped for a moment, lowering his eyes to examine the smooth body reflected back at him.

Not a single trace of his wounds remained—hard to even imagine the shocking state he had been in when he left the quarantine zone not long ago.

This body’s healing speed was definitely something far beyond human common sense.

After standing still for a while, Lin Xi raised his hand, lightly stroking the side of his neck.

Freshly showered, his fingertips still carried warmth—not like that day with Yan Xingzhou, when the touch had been chilling, like an icy blade pressed to his throat at the ready.

Slipping on his clothes, Lin Xi stepped out of the bathroom.

Only after he sprawled comfortably onto the sofa, lounging in utter ease, did the voice in his scalp resurface: [It’s so late, aren’t you going to sleep? Early to bed and early to rise is good for the health—and with proper rest you can hurry and get me… cough, get us those crystal cores.]

“No hurry.” Lin Xi picked up his phone.

He typed into the search bar: “Yan Xingzhou.”

To this day, he still couldn’t figure out why Yan Xingzhou had shown up here.

The Chief of the Ninth Administration of the United Twelve Administrations—his place should have been at headquarters.

Soon, pages upon pages of results appeared.

A few minutes later—

[Eh, why’d you exit out?]

Lin Xi frowned with irritation. “No need to keep reading, the information online has been scrubbed.”

Every search result related to Yan Xingzhou was filled with “Wanyuan Corporation.” It was as if his ties to the Ninth Administration had never existed.

Clearly the handiwork of the United Administration.

Lin Xi switched to another website, a bare, simple login screen appearing.

He entered his account and password and confirmed.

On the user interface, the Level 1 Access marker was clear.

[Whoa, this is the legendary Black Tide Forum?]

[So the infamous underworld hub where ability-users trade information—it’s actually being secretly run by the United Administration, huh?]

[Tell me, is there any force in the world you haven’t had your fingers in?]

“I’ve simply always had a habit of pulling dangerous things under my own control.” Lin Xi keyed in another search.

Moments later, the results made his heterochromatic eyes narrow sharply, his expression dimming, opaque and unreadable.

A blank page: “No Results Found.”

On Black Tide, information of every sort could be bought and sold. If even here, nothing showed up, it meant the intel he wanted was categorized as S-Class Confidential.

After a moment of thought, Lin Xi altered the keyword: “Ninth Administration.”

Finally, information popped up.

Entries were sorted chronologically.

The top results were records of the Ninth Administration’s missions in recent years. By page five, news appeared of Su Muye taking office as the Ninth Administration’s chief.

Tapping further down, a headline immediately grabbed his eyes—

“United Administration Infighting: Ninth Administration Storms Headquarters!”

The post had clearly been edited and muddled in places, but even so, Lin Xi knew—there was only one person who could have led the Ninth Administration to storm headquarters.

Yan Xingzhou.

Though he hadn’t witnessed that day with his own eyes, the words painted enough of a picture. Such an action wasn’t just breaking with the Administration—it was outright defying its supreme authority.

That man had deliberately pulled all hostility onto himself, dragging his name right into the eye of the storm.

As for why—

The date of the clash was three days after his own death.

At that time, the news of the former Chief Executor’s “heroic fall” would have just spread across the globe, stirring worldwide grief.

The story was nearly obvious.

Lin Xi pressed his fingers to his forehead, face buried in one hand, shaking his head with a weary chuckle. “Really… someone like you, how could you do something so foolish?”

[Tsk, tsk, tsk, I think I believe your judgment now.]

[So touching. You die in pieces, and he wages war in rage for beauty. This could be a grand, tragic romance novel already!.]

[Granted, I don’t know about… reproductive compatibility, but hey, interspecies love isn’t impossible.]

Lin Xi: “…Your imagination is a little too much.”

[Oh? Because aside from being blinded by lust, I can’t think of any other reason you wouldn’t use him.]

“Yan Xingzhou was the sharpest blade I’ve ever wielded.” Lin Xi’s voice was quiet. “But this blade shouldn’t be wielded on this path.”

[Wow, truly befitting the cold, ruthless Exe~cu~tor~ Lord.]

[Though thinking about it, what you just said still sounds like lust muddling your wisdom.]

“…” Lin Xi shut his eyes and ignored the noisy pest. He glanced over the post one last time before closing it—but just then, a headline notification popped up.

He had intended to dismiss it casually. But a glance froze him stiff.

#Shocking! After Three Years, Chief Executor Lin’s Century Funeral About to be Held

Lin Xi: “…”

Whose funeral?

United Administration Headquarters, Top-Level Conference Room.

The jet-black night was kept at bay by bright lights. In the center, the trending headline was projected dazzlingly bright.

Around an immense conference table sat over a dozen figures, their forms flickering faintly with the static of holographic projections.

The heads of every department hadn’t gathered like this in over half a year. Now, an emergency session had been called—because of one sudden, viral headline.

And the atmosphere in the room was utterly suffocating.

“We cannot let Yan Xingzhou keep running wild any longer. I’ve said before, lenience only empowers him to repeatedly trample the Administration’s authority.”

The head of the Fifth Administration, Ji Po, sat in his pristinely neat office, wearing a pressed suit. Polished and gentlemanly in every gesture, only the perpetual mist about his smiling face left others feeling as if he were always just out of reach.

“I know many of you once worked with him. But forgive me for being blunt—Yan Xingzhou is nothing but a saboteur to the Administration. Left unchecked, he’ll drag headquarters down with him sooner or later.”

He didn’t wait for feedback. Raising his head, he shifted his holographic gaze to the center figure of the table, asking smoothly: “And what do you think, Executor?”

Instantly, every gaze turned toward the man in a white uniform.

The current Chief Executor, Gu Beiqiu, merely smiled under the focus. “I understand everyone’s fury. But no matter what, he is currently the only dual-ability X-coder in our nation.”

An ability user with the X designation.

That was why—even if they despised his methods—the United Administration still maintained superficial amity with him.

“Just because he’s an X-code, we must let him run rampant?” someone challenged.

“I’m sorry, but that’s how reality is.” Gu Beiqiu showed no displeasure. “In recent years, fissure activity has only intensified. S-class fissures… the stress is mounting. When another S-class eruption comes, an X-code ability user is humanity’s final bulwark. And even if we set aside that ‘paranoid worry,’ on the geopolitical stage, an X-coded individual is the highest bargaining chip imaginable.”

He swept his gaze around the table. “If you’re dissatisfied, I look forward to seeing which of you can awaken with an X designation. If the nation has another, I’d gladly remove Yan Xingzhou as the thorn in our side immediately.”

Silence fell like a curtain. The only sound: a faint, rhythmic click-clack.

All along, Su Muye—the head of the Ninth—had been slouched at the table, bored, fiddling with a lighter. Sensing the tense mood now, he raised his head, caught their hostile glances, and gave a sheepish grin, shoving the lighter away. “Don’t mind me, carry on, carry on.”

Unruffled by the distraction, Gu Beiqiu looked at another. “Still can’t take the headline down?”

The staffer finally looked up, face strained. “This one… must have cost a fortune. We’ve erased the original source, but the spread was too explosive. The reach is vast—we simply can’t intercept it in time!”

A roundabout answer, but clear enough.

Even over hologram, everyone’s faces looked equally unsightly.

Wanyuan Corporation.

So rich you think you can buy the narrative, huh?

“Forget it. It’s too late now. The story’s already gone viral. Even if we take the headline down, it won’t help.” Ji Po blew a thin cloud of smoke, his narrow eyes squinting in the fog. “Yan Xingzhou waited all these years just to throw the late Executor’s death on the table. The ‘Century Funeral’—since the news is out, we can’t exactly avoid sending someone to represent us, can we?”

He eyed Gu Beiqiu with faint interest. “Executor Gu, as the late Executor’s handpicked protégé, will you be attending personally?”

Gu Beiqiu: “Of course. I’m considering it.”

Ji Po raised a brow.

The silence that followed was heavily meaningful.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

A knock sounded. Someone hurried in, handing a file to Gu Beiqiu.

After glancing through it, Gu Beiqiu frowned slightly. Lifting his gaze, he looked around and smiled wryly. “Actually, I had already drafted a list of attendees. But now, it seems the roster must change.”

Before anyone could ask, he continued: “We’ve just received word from the Ability Administration of Country A. Upon hearing the news of Executor Lin’s funeral, they’ve decided to send a delegation to China, to pay respects.”

Someone questioned, “Wouldn’t every country send delegates for an event of this scale?”

“The point isn’t whether—but who.”

Gu Beiqiu’s fingers tapped lightly on the file. “In this delegation, there will be — an X-coded dual-ability user.”

The room fell silent.

X-coded ability users were all considered national treasures. And now, one would travel across the sea for no more than a funeral?

Clearly, their aim was not so simple.

In the whispers that followed, a shrill whistle cut across—Su Muye’s, full of mischief. “Whoa, look at that! Now this is what you call pomp. N City is about to get lively!”