PCJ – Chapter 694 Counterattack

Julia turned into a bolt of lightning and fled with lightning speed back the way she came. She knew her comrades would never return—they had sacrificed themselves to delay the powerful enemy and give her a sliver of hope. So, she didn’t hesitate at all—she ran for her life.

Zhang Yuanbao also picked up speed. He had a whole handful of talismans in hand. Unlike before, when only Zhang Jiaohua could make talismans and no one had much stock, now Meishan Sect had a dedicated talisman-making division in the city. Cultivators on missions all carried large bundles of talismans. Especially Zhang Yuanbao and a few others, being close to Zhang Jiaohua, often enjoyed special treatment within the sect.

It was his first time carrying out a major sect mission, and Zhang Yuanbao didn’t want even the slightest mistake. This female psychic had to be taken down. This was only Meishan Sect’s first step. Cultivators couldn’t just passively endure and let enemies walk all over them again and again. Without a proper response, it wouldn’t be in their nature. So the Meishan Sect would undoubtedly carry out retaliatory actions against some American departments.

Zhang Yuanbao wanted to be part of those future plans. That’s why he wanted this mission to go flawlessly.

He waved his hand, and his magical sword flew from his hand, transforming into a dazzling beam of light that shot toward Julia. She suddenly had a gut-wrenching sense of danger and instinctively dodged sideways. The sword barely missed her but suddenly boomeranged back and attacked again. This unexpected change caught her completely off guard. She quickly released a bolt of lightning the width of her wrist at the sword, but it didn’t harm it—it only slightly slowed its momentum. The sword continued its assault.

Julia rolled on the ground to barely evade the attack. Though she avoided a fatal hit, the sword still struck her foot.

“Ahhh!” Julia screamed miserably as her entire left leg was severed by Zhang Yuanbao’s sword, tumbling away. Yet, even after losing a leg, she continued to flee rapidly, supported by her lightning powers.

Zhang Yuanbao pressed his advantage mercilessly, throwing talismans like a storm toward her. Julia looked back and was terrified. She had reached her limit. She tried to summon another lightning bolt for defense, but her power was exhausted. Realizing she could no longer escape, she simply closed her eyes and awaited death.

BOOM!

A deafening explosion followed. All that remained was a massive crater—no trace left behind. Julia didn’t escape. She had already turned to ash, scattered completely by the wind.

Zhang Yuanbao approached, scanned the area, confirmed that Julia couldn’t have survived, and then turned and left.

On the other side, Mute, Qi Xia, and Nie Tong were still locked in battle with Tony and the others. But Mute and the rest no longer engaged directly with the psychics. They began throwing talismans as if they were free. Tony had been relying on brute force to confront Nie Tong. At first, it was an even match. But once Nie Tong started using talismans, Tony was overwhelmed while Nie Tong grew increasingly relaxed, tossing talisman after talisman at the psychics, watching them scramble in panic.

He muttered bitterly, “If I had brought these out earlier, I wouldn’t have been such a mess and embarrassed myself in front of the guys.”

Qi Xia seized the opportunity, combining magical sword strikes with talismans. The heavily injured Gillis couldn’t dodge anymore. Qi Xia bombarded him with talismans, leaving him covered in wounds, then stepped in and cleanly decapitated him. Gillis’s head flew into the air. As he watched the world spin, everything went dark—completely over.

Mute was entangled with Damien, Galahad, Dave, and others. Initially, he was overwhelmed. But once he used talismans, the tide turned. These psychics couldn’t defend against talisman attacks, and before long, they were all battered and bloodied.

Damien, the strength-based psychic, became Mute’s main target. As Damien was struggling with the barrage of talismans, Mute took the chance to ambush him with his magical sword. This time, Damien failed to defend in time—the sword pierced his chest. Staring at the blade in disbelief, Damien realized he was finished. His trip to China had turned into a journey of death.

“Cultivator… he’s a Chinese cultivator!” Damien finally believed the words of a senior: Psychics should never step foot into this mysterious land called China. Now, he understood. Chinese cultivators and psychics were simply not on the same level.

By the time Zhang Yuanbao returned, the battle was already over.

“Do we keep any of these people alive?” Nie Tong asked.

“Screw that! Just finish them. You think they’ll tell us anything?” Zhang Yuanbao stepped forward to execute the captured psychics.

“Wait! Take them back first. Jiaohua definitely has ways of getting them to talk. This can’t be the end of it. If we don’t teach them a lesson, they’ll just keep sending people,” Qi Xia quickly said.

Mute also stopped Zhang Yuanbao. “Haven’t you killed enough? You’re so bloodthirsty. Just wait until Jiaohua deals with you.”

“They already came to our doorstep! What, we’re just supposed to let them slaughter us? If we’d retaliated directly the first two times, they wouldn’t have dared come again and again. Meishan Sect is not that easy to bully!” Zhang Yuanbao replied indifferently.

Zhang Yuanbao’s team brought back the near-dead Tony, Dave, and Galahad into the hidden realm. The three of them had already passed out upon entry and had no idea where they’d been taken.

“Jiaohua, a dozen of them came. These are the last few left. But things got kind of loud outside,” Zhang Yuanbao said casually.

“No problem. Someone will handle it,” Zhang Jiaohua said calmly.

Before Meishan Sect could send anyone, the matter had already been handled—by none other than Xu Falin’s group, who had been secretly observing. Xu Falin and his team were stunned by the chaos at the Xiyun Reservoir. Previously arrogant in front of Zhang Jiaohua, Xu was now filled with fear after witnessing a true cultivator battle. So this is what real cultivators are! Compared to them, the special ability users from his association were like ants.

Grateful he hadn’t antagonized them, Xu Falin quickly decided to earn favor with Meishan Sect by taking responsibility for cleaning up the aftermath.

“Just tell people we arrived to find it like this. Say grave robbers must’ve caused the chaos at the reservoir,” Xu told his team.

Cao Minghai, who had previously argued with Xu, wasn’t surprised by this sudden change in attitude. Xu was always good at going with the wind. Now that he’d seen Meishan Sect’s true power, of course he wanted to build a relationship with them.

In fact, Meishan Sect had already noticed Xu’s group but let them go, since they posed no threat. Had they shown hostility, they’d have been eliminated instantly.

Tony, Dave, and Galahad were no ordinary captives. Torture was useless against them. But in the hands of cultivators, they had no way to resist. Cultivators had countless methods to extract information—even the things the captives had forgotten themselves.

Zhang Jiaohua never went soft on enemies. He didn’t waste time interrogating. Instead, he used Soul Searching Technique to rip every last memory from their minds—even the ones they didn’t know they had.

“The Americans are disgusting! Jiaohua, let’s go to the U.S. and make them pay! Otherwise, they’ll think we’re weak!” Zhang Yuanbao shouted.

“We will go. But we need a perfect plan,” Zhang Jiaohua replied.

“Will it be just us again?” Zhang Yuanbao asked.

Zhang Jiaohua shook his head. “None of you have been there. You wouldn’t even know where to find our target.”

Zhang Yuanbao scratched his head. “True… that’s a problem.”

“And we can’t make a scene this time. If it gets out of hand, we won’t be able to retreat easily,” Jiaohua added.

“So what do we do?” Zhang Yuanbao asked.

“We’ll discuss it thoroughly first,” Zhang Jiaohua said.

That very night, an entire team of psychics went missing without a trace. Mortimer knew they were done for. It was a major incident. There were only a few psychic squads—each one was precious.

“Director, a whole team gone? Who’s going to take responsibility?” Pierre asked worriedly.

“Someone will have to. I warned them this mission was risky, but the President insisted—and had me contact the corporations. Now, they’ll have to take the fall.” Mortimer wasn’t as confident as he looked. Those corporations would ditch him the moment trouble came. He’d end up taking the blame. He was devastated but had no choice.

Mortimer reported the incident to Bush immediately. Bush didn’t say a single word—he was already distancing himself.

“Mortimer, someone has to be held accountable. You were in charge of this mission. It failed—shows you didn’t assess the enemy properly,” Bush said coldly, already planning to pin everything on him.

Mortimer was shocked by how ruthless Bush was—completely throwing him under the bus.

“Mr. President, I told you this was high risk. You insisted! I’ve left a trail—don’t make me expose it,” Mortimer warned.

The call ended abruptly. Mortimer nearly smashed his phone in anger. He knew Bush would shift the blame but never expected him to go this far.

“Don’t forget what I do for a living. What I know is enough to drag you down from the top,” Mortimer muttered grimly.

The corporations that backed him all denied any involvement. They had never supported the operation—allegedly.

Before Mortimer could respond, he was abruptly dismissed. Soon after, agents Pierre and Mottola came to arrest him.

But Mortimer was too experienced. He disguised himself and escaped the U.S. under a new identity—heading straight to Russia. There, he pulled a WikiLeaks move and exposed classified secrets, shocking the world—and scaring Bush senseless.

“What do we do now?” Zhang Yuanbao asked.

The Meishan Sect had been preparing to head to America’s neighbor, Maple Leaf Country (Canada). But before they even departed, the explosive news arrived.

“Whatever’s happening over there—it’s none of our business. But since they came to us first, we must respond!” Zhang Jiaohua said firmly.

As the world reeled from Mortimer’s revelations, mysterious deaths began to occur in the U.S. Key figures exposed by Mortimer suddenly died of “illness.” Pierre, the new intel chief, was found dead in his office—no wounds, just eyes wide in horror, as if scared to death. His deputy Mottola died the exact same way.

Had it only been one of them, people might believe it was natural. But two? No one believed that.

Soon, a terrorist group claimed responsibility.

That very night, the remaining four U.S. psychic squads—after the one lost at Xiyun Reservoir—were all completely wiped out.