With the intention set, the clones immediately sprang into action. Two convoys had already relayed their destinations: one headed for a hotel, the other for a mansion. Three more convoys were still en route, and the five clones following them swiftly launched their attack, flinging bolts of orange-yellow light toward their targets.

Within the Assassin Syndicate, only strength held sway. Though positioned within the administrative division of Shadow Blade, exempting them from direct assassination missions, these leading figures possessed at least the power of a mid-tier Level Two operative. Furthermore, they held an exceptionally profound understanding of how to defend against assassins.

As the orange-yellow light approached, all five leaders reacted in the first instant. Some attempted to call for backup from nearby bodyguards; others tried to project their thoughts, screaming that someone was attempting to seize control of their minds.

However, these actions proved futile. The mental control exerted by Yang Ying’s clones, amplified by mental power tens or hundreds of times greater than their own, was beyond their ability to resist. If they possessed Level Three mental strength, they might have attempted to burn or annihilate their souls. But trying to multitask with mental projection only hastened their subjugation.

Next came the systematic extermination of every bodyguard who had witnessed the orange-yellow light. The justification remained the same: framing them for attempting betrayal and assassination of the leadership.

“All the clones are engaged; I can’t lag behind either,” thought the clone situated within the Shadow Blade headquarters building, certain that the others had largely handled their tasks. Feeling emboldened, he glanced at the omnipresent surveillance feeds in the security control room and scoffed, “If you won’t hide, I’ll smash you all! Mind Storm!”

A mere two thousand units of mental power were sufficient to cast a Mind Storm, let alone Yang Ying’s current first-tier mental capacity, which peaked at five thousand. Thus, the entire room instantly erupted in dazzling electrical sparks. With sharp crackling sounds, instruments and monitors were utterly demolished, instantly rendered useless.

The violent current surged through all the on-duty personnel in the room, filling the space with agonizing cries. Although they were all Level One or Level Two mental practitioners, the Mind Storm remained fatal to them. It was akin to one person, strong enough to draw a bowstring dozens of times, being killed instantly by a single arrow shot by another person of equal strength.

After unleashing the Mind Storm, the clone made no pause. He instantly restored his power to the peak of Level Three and rushed upward. Approaching the top floor, the clone abruptly halted, sensing an invisible wall before him. He struck the wall with a fist, causing ripples to spread out, and muttered to himself, “A force field wall!”

At that moment, the entire building began to shake violently. The ground vibrated madly, cracks spiderwebbed across the walls, and waves surged across the exterior cladding as the structure began to shatter.

A saucer-shaped spacecraft burst free from the building and ascended rapidly into the sky!

Simultaneously, the other six leaders received news of the attack on headquarters. They were already under control, and the intelligence was intercepted by Yang Ying’s six clones. Communicating with the leaders via mental projection, they learned that the top floor of the building housed a spacecraft. If the attack reached a certain critical threshold beyond the President’s capacity to manage, the ship would be activated for escape.

This was the final layer of defense for the headquarters building, known only to the President himself and the other six top leaders—not even Tarlin had been informed, much less Klin.

The clone inside the collapsing building watched the vessel ascend and thought, “I expected to face sniping from that remaining Level Three assassin, but having gotten this far, they’re already trying to flee without even a shred of resistance?”

He pushed off the ground like a cannonball, rocketing skyward. Controlling his trajectory, he bypassed the force field wall, but as he neared the spacecraft, he was stopped by its protective shield.

Now in broad daylight, the clone knew that planetary police forces would soon be alerted. Seeing such a craft launch might even prompt the deployment of military units.

“No time to drag this out; it requires a swift conclusion,” he declared. Reaching out, he pressed his palm against the defense shield. Amidst a deafening roar, a brilliant electrical discharge erupted—the Lightning Technique of the Lumina Magistrate.

The chaotic thunder was nearly ear-splitting, causing a tingling numbness and a sense of electric shock even to those listening from a distance.

“President, we are under attack! The force is immense, likely from a Level Three peak expert proficient in lightning magic,” reported the Level Three assassin stationed at headquarters to the President in the flying saucer’s cockpit.

“Divert half the energy to the shield and charge the light-speed engine with the other half. We need to reach the conditions for entering subspace as quickly as possible!” commanded the President of Shadow Blade.

This President was not a Haisen person. He had a long face, resembling that of a donkey, with large nostrils and a tuft of beard on his chin. Most unsettling were his insect-like compound eyes, which fractured the view of any object into hundreds or thousands of images. He stared unblinkingly, chillingly cold.

“President, what about our headquarters? Many of our people are still there,” one crew member inquired.

“Forget the headquarters for now. We have a peak master among the attackers; they possess an overwhelming advantage. Those left behind in the heartland are doomed,” the President’s tone was utterly flat, as if those in his inner circle were already dead.

Seeing the lightning bolt fail to penetrate the shield, the clone outside the saucer had an idea. He summoned his main soul to possess him, flashed golden light, and called forth three more clones!

The four clones raised their hands simultaneously, and four dazzling electrical currents slammed into the flying saucer’s shield. The shield immediately began to flicker violently.

“President, trouble! The attacker’s power has quadrupled! There are four Level Three peak combatants outside the ship!” the Level Three assassin reported hastily.

“What?!” The Shadow Blade President slapped his armrest, leaping to his feet. “How much longer for the light-speed engine?”

“Ten seconds!” replied the Level Three assassin.

“Not enough time! Quickly divert all remaining energy to the shield! Suspend the light-speed engine for now!” the President roared.

“Yes!” Several crew members immediately began operating the controls. Suddenly, one cried out in alarm, “No! It’s too late! The shield is collapsing!”

At that moment, the four clones struck again. The brilliant currents exploded against the defense shield. The shield flickered erratically a few more times, then vanished altogether, and the electricity shot directly into the saucer.

In the cockpit, the control panels before the crew members short-circuited, spewing electrical sparks. They too were affected; currents as thick as a grown man’s arm coiled around them, causing their bodies to jerk violently. Wisps of smoke curled from their heads, and flames danced rapidly, consuming their clothing. In the flashes of light, one could almost discern their skeletal structures.

“System overload! The saucer is going to explode!” the Level Three assassin bellowed, drawing a silver light-saber and slashing it down onto the floor, instantly cutting a deep hole. “President, run!”

“Run? Don’t even dream about it!” A voice echoed from the opening, followed immediately by four Blade Emperors swarming through the hole. They were completely invisible and each held two hidden light-sabers. Without a word, they split into pairs, closing in on the President and the Level Three assassin, respectively.

In just two exchanges, both the President and the Level Three assassin had their light-sabers knocked away, and the orange-yellow light symbolizing mental control enveloped them.

The assassin, to his credit, was fiercely loyal. He annihilated his own soul before the mental subjugation could be completed. The clone gleaned only the assassin’s unwavering devotion to the Shadow Blade President and his absolute refusal to serve a second master.

The Shadow Blade President’s reaction, however, was far less noble. Though he had the opportunity to extinguish his own soul, he chose not to. The clone sensed his thought process: If I survive, I can always rise again. He intended to feign compliance temporarily, waiting for a chance to strike back later. The clone inwardly sneered, “If I let you counterattack, would it still be called mental control?”

With a casual gesture, the clone deleted the entire retaliatory thought from the President’s mind, leaving only the imperative to obey his commands.

Moments later, the flying saucer exploded in mid-air. The four clones burst out carrying the President, and with a few quick movements, they vanished into stealth.

Klin, waiting outside the building, received the mental message from the clone, confirming the matter had been resolved perfectly. Overjoyed, he immediately drove away to the pre-arranged rendezvous point to meet the clones.

Not long after, city police arrived at the scene. After inspecting the remaining wreckage of the building and the half-destroyed saucer wreckage not far away, they assigned some unknown charges and took everyone left in the building to the precinct for questioning.

Any surviving Shadow Blade assassins still at the site had already withdrawn to secret assembly points, awaiting the organization's summons. Wounded members were also evacuated, and even crucial documents were either taken or destroyed if they could not be moved, leaving the scene impeccably clean with not a single piece of evidence for the police.

As for what remained, it was the periphery members of the front organizations used as decoys. What could they possibly know? They were released from the police station shortly after being brought in.

By this time, all the leaders of Shadow Blade’s Dagger Council were under Yang Ying’s control. The operations planned for the other two routes were consequently canceled. Their original targets were two major sub-divisions, each overseen by a leading figure. However, since all the leaders were now gathered at headquarters and taken in one sweep, there was no need to waste effort attacking the sub-divisions.

That evening, the seven leaders reconvened in a secret location within the city and issued a recall order to the assassins scattered after the headquarters incident, instructing them to return under the command of the Dagger Council. Shadow Blade had operated for years and possessed backup command centers; the damage from the destruction of headquarters was quickly rectified.

However, the regrouped assassins were unaware that Shadow Blade was no longer the organization it once was, having become a vassal entity of the Terran Mercenary Group. Yet, in a sense, submitting under Yang Ying’s banner marked a new chapter in Shadow Blade’s history. To learn what happens next, please log on to [website/platform name], where more chapters are available to support the author and enjoy legitimate reading!