Unholy Player-Chapter 218: Emergency Call

"It’s always good to have others handle the tedious work for you," Adyr murmured, his tone calm and distant.

He sat comfortably in a clean chair placed at the edge of the battlefield, sipping from a steaming cup of bitter coffee as he watched the workers move through the carnage. Overhead, the steady sound of rain echoed softly, drops tapping against the tarp stretched above him.

All around, the blood-soaked earth and scattered body parts painted a grim landscape, yet dozens of workers moved methodically through the carnage.

Dressed in bright yellow utility vests, they moved like worker ants across the blood-soaked field, each carrying heavy-duty equipment—electric saws, industrial drills, and reinforced tools designed specifically to handle hardened materials. After all, the mutants’ bones and armored hides weren’t something ordinary tools could cut through. Even armor-piercing rounds struggled to breach their defenses. Only these specialized instruments, crafted for dealing with such unnatural resilience, were capable of splitting open their skulls to reach the crystals buried inside.

One by one, they opened every skull they found, carefully extracting the purple crystals buried within the brain matter. After wiping the crystals clean until they gleamed, they dropped them into small pouches strapped at their waists before moving on to the next corpse.

Unlike them, Adyr’s appearance betrayed no trace of battle. His clothes were fresh, his skin clean, and not a drop of blood clung to his hair or face. The portable shower and change of clothing brought from Shelter City 8’s Player Headquarters had resolved those inconveniences long ago.

"Mr. Adyr, your uniform and equipment have been cleaned," a woman said quietly as she approached him, wearing the same yellow vest as the others. She carried a sealed box in both hands, her posture respectful but visibly tense.

"Thank you for the trouble. Just leave it there," Adyr replied softly, offering a polite smile.

But his attempt at courtesy only seemed to heighten the woman’s unease. Without another word, she set the box down and retreated in hurried steps, as if his smile itself had unsettled her.

Adyr didn’t find it strange anymore. He had already checked the public forums and the surveillance footage recorded during his earlier battle. Even he had been surprised by what he saw. He hadn’t expected the influence of Presence and Malice to extend so far, nor affect people so deeply.

Fear, he thought, taking another slow sip of his coffee, is primitive... but still one of the most effective tools for controlling people.

The only thought that lingered in his mind was how all of this might affect Marielle and Niva’s lives because of him, but even that didn’t trouble him much. He understood how societies like this worked all too well.

As long as he remained alive and power stayed in his hands, his infamous name would only open more doors for them. Their lives would become easier, more comfortable than ever before. In the end, that was all it would lead to.

While Adyr sat in silence, lost in thought and content to enjoy the moment, another figure approached him—a man in an STF uniform, holding a military-grade tablet.

"Sir, you have a call." The soldier gave a sharp salute, the kind reserved for higher ranks, before extending the tablet toward him.

"Thanks." Setting his coffee down on the small table beside him, Adyr accepted the device, his gaze shifting to the screen. The face that appeared drew a faint smile from him.

"Yo, Victor. What’s going on?"

Victor’s face appeared pale and sickly on the screen. His usually sharp red eyes looked uneasy, flickering nervously in the dim artificial light that illuminated his features. The darkness surrounding him suggested he was somewhere underground. His face and blond ponytail looked dirtied, as if he’d been crawling through mud.

"Shh, keep your voice down," Victor hissed tensely. "Do you even know where we are? If they find us here, we’re finished."

Adyr’s expression hardened at those words. "Where are you?" Though deep down, he already had a strong suspicion.

Victor hesitated for half a second, then answered—his tone laced with pride and a strange sense of accomplishment, even as his appearance told the opposite story. "We’re in the underground headquarters of the Painter and the Manipulator."

His words carried pride, but his dirt-smeared face made the entire situation look unintentionally absurd.

"Send me the location," Adyr said as he stood up and moved toward the supply box containing his uniform.

"I already did. Just take your time. The station is still under our control," Victor replied, though his words were interrupted by a sudden sharp cry, as if something had struck him. The screen jolted, and the feed shifted to another face.

Dalin.

She appeared just as disheveled, her red hair streaked with mud and her crimson eyes flashing with irritation. Her tone was urgent as she spoke. "Hey, don’t listen to this idiot. Get here as fast as you can. Thanks to him, we’re trapped here, and at any moment—"

Before she could finish, the sound of low growls and heavy footsteps echoed from the device’s speakers, cutting through her voice. The feed flickered, then went dark.

Adyr stared at the call-ended screen for a full second, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he set the tablet aside and calmly began changing into his uniform from the supply box.

"Sir, a hoverjet is ready to take you to the target zone," the STF soldier reported as he stood nearby, maintaining a professional posture as he watched him prepare.

But Adyr shook his head once. "No need. I’ll go on my own. Just hand me a navigation device." He paused briefly, then added, "And bring the purple crystals you’ve collected."

Leaving with only 20 energy wasn’t a risk worth taking.

"Yes, sir." The STF soldier snapped another sharp salute, then turned to carry out the order without hesitation, his footsteps fading as he moved quickly to comply.

"Painter and Manipulator? Sounds interesting." His voice was calm, but something darker stirred beneath it.

His cold gaze drifted upward, lingering on the heavy rain falling through the thick, oppressive clouds above. For a moment, a flash of lightning split the sky, casting a fleeting light across his eyes—briefly illuminating the darkness hidden within them.