Nine Impostors!

"I... I!"Wang Daniu stood frozen, his mouth half-open, struggling to find words.

"Yeah... how did I not notice?"He mumbled to himself, confusion clouding his face.

Snap!

A sudden grip tightened around his wrist. It was the commander.

"Commander..."Wang Daniu looked up in shock. Half of Mike's face remained hidden in the dim stairwell, only one cold, piercing eye staring at him.

"Are you really Wang Daniu?"

The commander's voice was eerily soft, yet it sent a shiver down Wang Daniu's spine. His expression twisted in an instant.

Mike saw it clearly—Wang Daniu's face was contorting, but not out of fear or anxiety. No, it was literally twisting. His entire face compressed, his features warping into a grotesque knot.

In mere seconds, his eyes, nose, and mouth were no longer distinguishable, merging together like a lump of kneaded dough.

"You're not human."

Mike's eyes narrowed. A chill crawled up his spine, but he did not loosen his grip. Instead, he tightened his hold on the creature's wrist, his other hand lunging toward its neck.

"Mike!!"

A raspy, gurgling scream tore through the air, seeping from the cracks of its misshapen face. A damp, putrid stench accompanied the sound.

Its head jerked violently, neck stretching unnaturally like a serpent, its jaw unhinging to snap at Mike's hand.

Slap!

Mike's palm struck with the force of a hammer, his instincts overriding hesitation. He knew—this thing wasn't Wang Daniu.

The impact was brutal.

With a sickening crack, its head exploded into a thick, black sludge, spraying outward in defiance of gravity, as though the liquid itself had a will. It surged toward Mike's face.

"Mike!"

A sharp wail echoed—not just from the stairwell, but from within the writhing black mass. There was something familiar in that scream.

Mike didn't dare take the hit. With a flicker of thought, he activated Instant Relocation, shifting his body a meter to the side.

The inky substance splattered against the wall.

Silence.

Mike turned his gaze to the point of impact—yet the wall remained pristine, as if the black liquid had never existed. No stains. No trace.

"This is the anomaly?"

He muttered, glancing at his own hands.

The weight in his grip had vanished.

Mike looked down—what had once been Wang Daniu was now nothing more than an empty, withered husk of human skin. The hollow shell crumpled, flaking away into fine dust, carried off by the still air.

In less than ten seconds, a man had completely ceased to exist.

And the real Wang Daniu?

Mike had no idea where he was.

"This isn't exactly life-threatening," he murmured, flexing his fingers, "but it's definitely... unnatural."

His mind raced.

The transformation had only occurred after he exposed the imposter. Until then, it had been flawlessly blending in.

What if I hadn't called it out?

Would it have revealed more information?

And that voice in the liquid—was it really just an illusion? Or was it one of the former residents?

Was this a case of resurrected souls, twisted by death?

Mike didn't have the answers. He needed to hear what the old man had to say.

But right now, there were still more fakes to deal with.

Nine, to be exact.

He turned sharply and strode toward the staircase.

"Form up!"

His voice rang out, crisp and commanding.

A dozen armed soldiers snapped to attention in an instant, their movements precise and disciplined. Each of them was an elite—A-rank warriors, the equivalent of battlefield kings.

If the enemy was something tangible, something with flesh and blood, they would have no problem eliminating it.

The sudden mobilization drew the attention of the civilians in the lobby. The once lively space fell into a hushed silence as eight men and women turned their wary eyes toward Mike and his soldiers.

"Arrest them all."

Mike gestured toward the gathered civilians with a nod.

"Yes, sir!"

The squad leader gave a crisp reply, leading his men into the crowd. Within seconds, every civilian was restrained at gunpoint.

"Hands on your heads! Get down!"

"Against the wall! No sudden movements!"

The soldiers executed their orders flawlessly—swift, professional, without unnecessary aggression.

Mike remained silent, observing the group while activating his Detection skill repeatedly.

These were his own soldiers. They couldn't be fakes.

So why hadn't the impostors infiltrated them?

Were talent units immune to being copied?

Or... had the impostors deliberately avoided replacing them, knowing they wouldn't blend in?

Mike's thoughts churned as the civilians began to react.

"Commander, what's going on?"

"We haven't done anything wrong!"

"Someone must be the culprit—whoever you are, just come forward already!"

"Dammit! I just came down for some fresh air, and now there's a damn impostor among us?"

"This is insane!"

Despite their complaints, no one directed their anger at Mike.

If anything, their loyalty was absolute.

Mike was their leader, their protector.

If he said someone here was a threat, then there was a threat. No questions asked.

Mike's eyes scanned their faces, scrutinizing every expression, every flicker of movement.

Three more rounds of Detection—no anomalies.

"That means the problem is upstairs."

Nine intruders had infiltrated his building.

Nine impostors.

And the chaos had only just begun.