Chapter 775: Chapter 646: The Disruptor

"What are you standing there for?" Harding’s voice pierced through the wind and rain, "Move!"

The capture team immediately snapped into action.

They each intensified their control over the Array, and the strength of the Sealing Array was elevated to another level.

With Harding’s expertise combined with the entire capture team, bolstered by the Sealing Array and lighting setup, they unleashed their full firepower.

The Shadow Thief started to be suppressed.

Its Shadow Film continuously shrank under the impact of the Storm, retreating from the walls, from the machines, bit by bit compressing back to a small area in the center of the factory floor.

The unending rainfall of lightning formed a sealed "wall" around it, preventing any further expansion.

"Prepare to close the Sealing Array!" Deke shouted.

The members of the capture team swiftly adjusted the position of the Runes, and the glow of the Array began to retract inward, further compressing the Shadow Thief’s space for movement.

Everything was progressing in a favorable direction.

If nothing unexpected happened, it should soon be suppressed and sealed.

If nothing unexpected happened...

The east side of the factory bordered the edge of the abandoned industrial zone, leading out to a dirt road toward the old town.

Suddenly, small points of light appeared on the dirt road.

The captain of the capture team’s alert unit squinted, trying to make out the source of those lights.

His night vision was significantly better than an average person’s, but the lights were shrouded in thick mist, only faint outlines visible.

As they drew closer, the outlines became somewhat clearer.

People.

A lot of people.

They wore long black robes, hoods covering their heads and faces, leaving only their chins and mouths exposed.

Each person held an oil lamp, the flame inside flickering softly in the night wind, casting dim halos in the thick fog.

They walked in a line, unhurried and silent, heading toward the direction of the abandoned factory.

Gunfire erupted on the eastern road of the abandoned industrial zone.

The capture team’s alert group, poised behind barricades, eyes glued to their scopes, spotted the line of dim lamplight through the fog.

"Stop! This is a restricted area, cease your advance immediately!"

The shout reverberated through the night sky.

No one replied.

The line of Black-robed People did not halt.

Those figures holding oil lamps continued their unhurried approach, faces under their hoods hidden in the shadows, only the chin and mouth visible, lips pressed tightly, expressionless.

The leader of the alert group, a man in his early thirties, seeing their response, did not issue a second warning.

"Fire!"

Five rifles spit fire simultaneously.

Bullets tore through the fog, shredding the air, aiming precisely at the foremost Black-robed People.

The alert group members are all field agents of the association, though not elite-level Spiritualists, shooting practice is fundamental.

At this distance, under these lighting conditions, the hit rate shouldn’t fall below ninety percent.

Yet the outcome was less than satisfactory.

The five central Black-robed People didn’t even flinch.

When the bullets reached about half a meter before them, it was as if they hit an invisible wall.

Air rippled, bullets deflected, clattering onto the cobblestones.

The other Black-robed People quickly dispersed.

Their movements were swift, unnaturally so for ordinary people.

Some flipped sideways, taking cover behind abandoned vehicles on the roadside, others dashed into the shadows of buildings, some even took bullets head-on, the projectiles thudding dully off their robes before dropping weakly to the ground.

Reaction speed far exceeded that of ordinary people.

Injected with gene-enhancing potions, and not the low-grade kind.

And the five in the center, untouchable by bullets... were Spiritualists!

The alert group leader, relying on experience, immediately assessed the enemy, pupils contracting briefly.

He didn’t hesitate, pressing the communication device button immediately, "Encounter with hostiles on the east side! At least five Spiritualists, more than ten armed individuals! Requesting backup!"

Just as he finished speaking, a shadow shot out from the center of the Black-robed People’s formation.

It was a mass of swirling dark dense mist, shapeless like some amorphous creature.

It surged from the palm of one Black-robed Person, expanding in the air, lunging toward the alert group.

The alert group leader instinctively squeezed the trigger, but bullets passed through the dark mist with no effect.

The dark mist kept advancing, its "body" stretching wide, as if to engulf everyone on the road.

Then, the dark mist shattered.

A silver-white light shot in from the side, precisely penetrating the core of the dark mist.

The moment light touched mist, it was as if torn from within by a certain force, emitting a shriek devoid of sound, rapidly dissipating into nothing.

Two figures with a fluorescent glow stepped out from roadside cover.

Dark blue uniforms, collars and cuffs trimmed with silver, a star-shaped emblem embroidered on the left chest.

They were from another elite team Harding had seen earlier, a man and a woman, both appearing in their early thirties, with stern expressions and confident strides.

The man walked in front, his right hand still extended, fingertips lingering with a hint of silver-white light.

His expression was calm, as if handling a mundane task.

The woman followed behind, her gaze scanning the scattered Black-robed People, a slight cold smile on her lips.

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