Chapter 90: A Secret Too Dangerous to Hear

“What… the hell is going on?!”

Inside the vast, cavernous underground drainage system, a werewolf Stellar Envoy—first to charge toward Tian Dao—immediately sensed something was terribly wrong. His roar of disbelief was raw, shaken.

His claws, sharp enough to rip through steel, froze mid-air.

The towering, two-meter frame that had just moments ago been charging forward now twisted unnaturally, suspended like a puppet toy in the hands of some unseen god. In defiance of every law of physics, he was flung upward—straight toward the ceiling of the drainage tunnel.

“Aaargh!”

Mid-flight, the werewolf roared—anger and terror warring in his voice. But trained by the power of his Stellar Source: Gray Wolf, he twisted his body mid-fall with inhuman agility, landing gracefully atop the ceiling above the stunned crowd.

Now on all fours, his thick black fur stood on end like electrified wires—his entire body rigid, every muscle taut. He looked like a lone wolf, cornered and facing a threat it could not comprehend.

His blood-red eyes narrowed into slits, fixed on the slender figure above him.

What the hell…? When did Vector Control gain this kind of range at First-Rank level?

Or… is this even Vector Control at all? Could it be… the legendary Stellar Source—Gravitational Manipulation?

His mind reeled. Logic shattered. He couldn’t make sense of it.

And he wasn’t alone.

Others—other First-Rank Stellar Envoys near Tian Dao, and the Dimensional Audience members watching from Station 13—were equally stunned.

> Reverse gravity? No way… I remember Vector Control only affects objects within 9 millimeters of the user. This range is nearly ten meters. That’s not normal!

>

> He’s opened it! It’s definitely open!

>

> Open? He never even closed it in the first place!

>

> Could it be that device on his forehead?

>

> Yeah… I think so too.

As the audience speculated, trying to decipher the impossible, the werewolf on the ceiling made his decision.

He lifted his head, eyes blazing with fury, locking onto Tian Dao—now standing directly beneath him, as if the two were locked in a world turned upside down.

The composition was surreal—an eerie, inverted symmetry.

“Die!”

With a surge of power from his legs, the werewolf launched himself forward—intent on ending this.

But just as he left the ceiling, his gaze caught the faint, mocking smile spreading across Tian Dao’s face.

Then, a voice—calm, soft, like the whisper of death—slithered into his ear.

“Vector… Reverse.”

Boom!

No warning. No time to react.

The sudden shift in gravity tore through him like a storm. His world flipped.

The momentum he’d built up to leap upward now collided with the new downward pull.

His body betrayed him.

The sensation was worse than before—more violent, more deadly.

CRASH!

Forced back by the impossible gravity and his own leap, the werewolf slammed headfirst into the ground—right at Tian Dao’s feet.

The impact was catastrophic. The concrete floor—hardened, reinforced—shattered under the force, cracking open into a crater nearly five meters wide.

Pain flared through his body. His organs churned violently.

Spitting blood, the werewolf collapsed into the pit, coughing crimson droplets.

Red liquid sprayed from between his fangs, splashing into the puddles on the ground—blooming into grotesque, vivid red flowers.

But he hadn’t even begun to recover.

A single finger, pointed straight at him, caught his eye.

And at the tip of that finger—hovering in midair—was a dark, pulsing energy orb.

Stellar Energy Technique — Black Azure!

Tian Dao didn’t blink.

With cold precision, the orb shot forward—

And pierced the werewolf’s skull.

The moment of impact was silent.

But inside the orb’s core, the immense centripetal force tore the head apart—shredding flesh, bone, and brain into a storm of red dust.

The fragments mixed with the falling raindrops, swirling in the air like a macabre, blood-stained rain.

Thud.

The headless body collapsed, limbs splayed. Blood poured across the floor, forming a red stream like a river of death.

Silence.

Absolute, suffocating silence.

One minute.

That was all it took—from Tian Dao’s first strike to the second Stellar Envoy’s death.

Two elite First-Rank Envoys—respected, feared, powerful—had been killed like children.

And the one who did it… was a silver-haired boy.

No older than fourteen.

The sheer contrast sent a chill through every heart in the chamber.

Only Benjamin remained unaffected.

Having undergone emotional severance surgery as a child, he no longer knew fear. Only cold logic, flawless calculation.

His mechanical eyes flickered with data streams, processing every piece of intel on Tian Dao.

Within seconds, he had the answer.

“Stellar Energy Magnetic Field, I see. So that device on your head really is an excellent amplifier for your Stellar Source.”

Two Envoys dead.

Yet Benjamin’s voice remained flat. Unmoved.

As if they’d never existed.

And he was right.

Tian Dao’s ability to break the normal range limit of Vector Control came not from raw power—but from the Portable Quantum Core he wore on his head.

A device capable of generating a Stellar Energy Magnetic Field—a rare, powerful field that fused Stellar Energy with quantum magnetic resonance.

[Stellar Energy Magnetic Field: A unique field that combines Stellar Energy with mechanized quantum magnetic fields. It extends the range of a Stellar Source, but at the cost of significant power efficiency. (Current maximum range: 10 meters)]

A device worth 500,000 Popularity Points.

Expensive? Yes.

But justified.

Tian Dao didn’t seem surprised by Benjamin’s revelation.

He hadn’t expected to win with just gravity reversal—not against someone like Benjamin, a Stellar Envoy from the Ironcrown Family, representing the Central Council.

This man was far stronger than anyone had imagined.

“Go,” Benjamin said, his voice like ice. “His gravity field no longer affects you.”

He issued the command to the remaining four Envoys.

But not one moved.

Because they remembered how the first one died.

One palm. One strike.

And he was gone.

And now? Even without the gravity field, Tian Dao was still a monster.

Who would dare get close?

Not even the most skilled close-combat specialist—like the werewolf—had managed it.

How could they, with their Trait Class and Control-based abilities?

Tian Dao saw their hesitation.

And with a sudden, almost kind smile, he offered them a warning.

“Actually… you should do what he said.”

“Because if you don’t… you might not even die by my hand.”

A pause.

Then, with a quiet, chilling tone:

“Because from the moment you stepped into this place… he never intended for any of you to leave.”

Benjamin’s eyes narrowed.

Tian Dao’s smile deepened.

“Because of Miracle Stone · Kong… even a one-in-ten-thousand chance of exposure… is one too many.”

“After all… the only person who can truly keep a secret… is a dead one.”

The air froze.

The four remaining Envoys turned to Benjamin, eyes wide with dawning horror.

They knew.

They knew exactly what the Miracle Stone was.

Benjamin said nothing.

But his expression—cold, still—was no longer blank.

The killing intent in his gaze was undeniable.

They had heard the truth.

And now, they were no longer allies.

They were targets.

“Run!”

One of them snapped into action—fleeing toward the back exit, desperation burning in his eyes.

Justice?

No.

Benjamin had never cared about justice.

He’d used the word to manipulate them—lure them into serving his own hidden purpose.

But now, the truth was clear.

Too late.

As the Envoy took just one step—

BOOM!

An explosion erupted in his chest.

No warning.

No chance.

The blast tore through him, ending his life in an instant.

Dying, he turned back—his last sight: Benjamin, standing motionless, face expressionless.

The explosive device?

His own association badge.

Benjamin had rigged it.

The symbol of honor.

The emblem of loyalty.

Now, the blade of death.

Thud.

The body hit the flooded ground.

The other three Envoys froze—brain paralyzed by betrayal.

Watching the scene, Tian Dao’s smile grew wider.

“You call yourselves righteous. Yet you couldn’t even trust your own allies with your back.”

“And we—the ones you branded as monsters? We trust each other without question.”

“So tell me… what is justice?”

“Because honestly? I’m quite curious to hear your answer.”

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end