Resolution

Translator: CinderTL

Looking at the scattered wood shavings on the ground, Chen Ran couldn't help but frown. He turned around, seemingly intending to clean it up himself.

"Ahem..." Wei Jinting paused, "Wait a moment, I have something to say to you." His previously playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a serious expression.

"The Night Watchers have planted a mole among us," Chen Ran said casually.

"Heh," Wei Jinting grinned, "Little Ran Ran, you're like a worm in my stomach. You always know what I'm thinking."

"Whoever injured you must have come prepared," Chen Ran tilted his head, looking at Wei Jinting on the bed. "Who do you suspect?"

"Not many people have access to information at this level," Wei Jinting turned his neck, giving Chen Ran a strange look as he spoke slowly, "Only those of us."

"If we want to, we should be able to dig out this mole quickly. It just depends on what the master thinks."

After a moment of contemplation, Chen Ran asked, "Was it the same kind of weapon that attacked you?"

"Yes," Wei Jinting's expression turned grave after a pause, "But this time they're even more insane. They've started modifying Class A individuals, making them sign blood contracts on the Lifeline Note, then using them as weapons against us."

"Whether they succeed or not, it's almost impossible for them not to be corrupted by the will behind the Gate. This is essentially a suicide attack," Wei Jinting said, "Once awakened, their bodies simply can't handle the forbidden power."

As if suddenly remembering something, Chen Ran immediately looked at his teammate on the bed, a flash of unprecedented emotion in his eyes, "You brought her out because you wanted to..."

"My ability is crucial for what we need to do," Wei Jinting withdrew his gaze, looking up at the ceiling, ripples appearing in his eyes, "Someone needs... to inherit my Gate."

After a long silence, "Why her?" Chen Ran asked.

"I don't know either. Maybe it was her eyes. When she met me, she never expected to survive. The only thing on her mind was dragging me down to hell with her."

"Such stubbornness..." Wei Jinting suddenly laughed, a glimmer of light appearing in his eyes, "Doesn't it remind you of us back then? Also deceived by those people with grand ideals, willing to throw ourselves to death for righteousness. And what was the result?"

"It was them who betrayed us! It was them who betrayed us!" Wei Jinting was in tears, "They raised the monsters themselves, but then refused to acknowledge them."

"Everyone must learn to pay the price for their actions, and they are no exception," Wei Jinting grinned, "They would never imagine what kind of monster I've released from the Gate this time."

Recalling Wei Jinting's description of Wu, Chen Ran's expression gradually became peculiar.

"Two monsters, actually."

A voice came from outside the door. Both Chen Ran and Wei Jinting turned to look at the door, where a figure stood as if they had been there for some time.

An empty rectangular room.

Solemnly decorated.

The space was vast, easily accommodating over a hundred people. An ancient, decaying aura permeated the air, lingering indefinitely.

This was a massive conference room. A pure black long table stood in the center, flanked by two rows of high-backed chairs on either side.

The armrests of the chairs were engraved with bizarre patterns. Staring at them too long made one feel as if their eyes were being drawn in.

On the table stood a candlestick, with a pale candle burning dimly, emitting a half-dead light.

Just like the attendees, most of them had already turned gray-haired, their faces, revealed beneath black cloaks, etched with the marks of time.

It was hard to imagine that most of these people had already passed the century mark.

Some had even lived through both World Wars, participating bravely in each, their homes adorned with countless medals.

But the light in their eyes was not that of ordinary elderly people.

Each of them stood tall, with a steady breath, their robust muscles bulging beneath the loose cloaks.

They were not old; in fact, they were in excellent condition.

Hidden beneath their cloaks were their weapons, mostly cold steel, including seemingly ordinary daggers with blood grooves on both sides.

There were also ancient, Persian-style curved knives embedded with cat's eye stones.

And some firearms, like revolvers with alarmingly large calibers.

The ivory gun handles were severely worn, likely relics from the era of the Wild West.

Each weapon had its own history, and its own honor, having felled countless bloodthirsty, out-of-control individuals eroded by darkness.

But they, and their owners, could not see the light.

They could only hide in the shadows of the city.

Withdrawing silently before the first light of dawn.

Their name.

Was the Night Watchers.

This was the highest meeting of the Night Watchers' executive department.

Very few were qualified to attend.

There were 12 people present, all members of the Night Watchers' council.

They came from the 12 founding families of the Night Watchers.

A black wooden gavel tapped twice on the table, and the man at the end of the long table lifted his heavy eyelids, his hoarse voice like a death knell, "Let the vote begin."

From the darkness on the left emerged a young man, dressed in a suit, with gold-rimmed glasses and a pure white tie, holding a black wooden tray.

The young man began to walk along the seats, pausing briefly at each chair, as every attendee looked on with grave expressions.

"Thud."

Someone removed the ring from their left pinky finger and solemnly placed it on the tray.

The ring was large, with the family crest of the bearer embossed and engraved on the surface.

This signified his authority to represent his family and make a promise.

One by one, these century-old relics hesitated over the matter.

Someone rubbed their signet ring for a long time before finally shaking their head slightly.

The young man holding the tray nodded slightly, then walked away expressionlessly to the next person.

After making a round, the young man returned to the starting point.

Everyone was staring at the tray in his hands, a sense of tension spreading through the crowd for the first time, ripples appearing in those once calm eyes.

This decision would change many, many things.

It could even be said to concern the lives of countless people.

Seven rings.

This meant that seven people supported the resolution.

No, it was the seven families behind them.

The council stipulated that a resolution could only be enacted with the approval of two-thirds of its members.

One more was needed.

At this moment, everyone looked towards the man at the end of the long table, only he had yet to express his stance.

Beads of sweat the size of beans rolled down his temples as he slowly rubbed the large emerald ring on his little finger, the atmosphere in the entire meeting room growing tense.

Finally, he removed the ring and placed it heavily on the tray.

(End of the Chapter)

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