The area was shrouded in a damp mist. The pure silver crosses atop dozens of churches of various sizes cast a brilliant, silvery glow—the only discernible sight in the 'Chuan' through the naked eye.

Perched atop the tallest bell tower of St. Mark's Cathedral in central London, Gu Xichen surveyed the surroundings through a high-powered telescope. Beside him, a silent-mode light-screen television was broadcasting a talent show from "Mei Angel Workshop," an entertainment subsidiary of Earth Telecom. Dozens of young women in revealing short tops were vigorously dancing their youth under the neon lights, while several hosts stood before the stage, exchanging what looked like playful banter.

Holm was prone next to Gu Xichen, a customized twenty-millimeter caliber sniper rifle laid out before him.

Xin Jia lay beside Holm, his weapon a customized fifty-millimeter caliber sniper cannon!

Holm’s eye twitched, turning to glare at Xin Jia every so often. This towering behemoth, easily three meters tall, was an insult to the very concept of a "sniper"!

On the highest vantage points of dozens of city blocks surrounding central London, sharpshooters dispatched by the Hardwood Company had established positions; nearly a thousand heavy-caliber sniper rifles were enough to effectively lock down the majority of London. In the district where Gu Xichen’s St. Mark's Cathedral stood, three hundred snipers personally commanded by Holm lay in silent wait.

Through the telescope, less than a thousand meters ahead at a street corner, was London's most famous establishment, the "Copper Oak Club." This club enjoyed considerable prestige in certain circles of the Federation and served as the headquarters for the largest underground bank in all of Europe. Countless treasures flowed in and out daily, and vast sums of cash were transported either in or out every day.

The shadowy boss controlling the Copper Oak Club was the head of the "Oak Forest," the most formidable gang across the British Isles. It was rumored this man possessed noble blood, making his backing implicit and undeniable.

Across the street from the main entrance of the Cathedral, in an unpretentious, classically furnished coffee shop, dozens of young men and women were holding a gathering. Their laughter and chatter even pierced through the rain and mist, reaching the tower.

Gu Xichen swept the telescope across the coffee shop's panoramic window. General Tartarus, hidden quietly behind the white sheer curtains, subtly raised his head as if sensing a gaze, and his eyes met Gu Xichen’s. Tartarus offered an elegant toast with his coffee cup; Gu Xichen smiled, grabbed the gold-leafed brandy bottle beside him, and took a long swig.

A dozen mounted police officers paraded ostentatiously down the street on tall horses, perfectly embodying the elegant demeanor of Old English gentlemen. These meticulously selected, handsome officers were dressed immaculately. They wore tall, round metal helmets, magnificent black police cloaks, and carried short cavalry lances whose symbolic value far outweighed their practical use strapped to their backs.

Each officer sported a red rose pinned to their collar, further accentuating their dashing, imposing appearance. At least a few girls walking by with umbrellas were utterly captivated, pulling out cameras and snapping pictures of the mounted patrol incessantly.

A balding priest, carrying an incense burner and accompanied by a contingent of seminary students chanting verses from the Old Testament of the Bible, proceeded slowly along the sidewalk. Every time they passed a shop door, the priest made the sign of the cross on his chest, and the two students following closely behind loudly invoked the Holy Name of God.

There were few vehicles on the road. Modern London was no longer the financial powerhouse it once was; nowadays, it served more as a retirement haven for many high-ranking officials of the Federation and a memorial ground where traditional nobility reflected on their past glory. Thus, everything here possessed an air of elegance and unique charm. The headquarters of many ancient groups—such as the activity center for the Federation Noble Faction or the headquarters of the Non-Human Races Council—were located here.

A high-precision mechanical watch rested before Gu Xichen, its second hand ticking briskly, the time steadily approaching noon.

In space, twelve Roman warships silently traversed the vast void, stealthily closing in on Earth. At a distance of nearly 400,000 kilometers from the planet, they began releasing a massive swarm of communication satellites. Extremely powerful satellites flew one after another into orbit; a total of over two thousand potent satellites deployed in a fan shape, all aimed at Earth.

Holm brought his eye to the scope and muttered, "Chief, does the Special Service Bureau really have that much authority? They managed to cover up something as massive as the incident in South Africa?"

Taking another sip of brandy, Gu Xichen looked toward the main entrance of the Copper Oak Club in the distance and chuckled faintly. "Covering it up is true, but filling a lava lake that large, silencing so many witnesses, and managing all the necessary payoffs—that involves a hefty sum. Poor Uriah, where is he supposed to find that much hard currency?"

At precisely twelve o'clock noon, the main gate of the Copper Oak Club suddenly opened. Three stretched limousines, flanked by twelve large black SUVs, slowly proceeded toward the front entrance of St. Mark's Cathedral. At the three-way intersection before the church, the road leading east went toward London Airport, while the road to the west led to the docks on the Thames.

The sound of laughter from the young people in the coffee shop suddenly peaked. Some ice-filled beer mugs were thrown out the window, narrowly missing the passing motorcade.

The twelve mounted police officers, having barely moved out of the way, suddenly shouted. They wheeled their horses around and accelerated sharply toward the convoy, drawing their cavalry lances from their backs and pulling the trigger toward the last black SUV. The small cavalry lances discharged incredibly powerful high-energy particle streams. Twelve streams, thick as bowls, rolled up plasma clouds several meters in diameter, shrieking strangely as they hurtled forward. Seven figures suddenly burst from the black SUV, throwing themselves desperately to the ground and tumbling repeatedly.

The high-energy particle streams hit their target. The SUV was blasted skyward, exploding into a blinding fireball dozens of meters above the ground.

Before the figures emerging from the vehicle could scramble to their feet, the young women who had been fanatically photographing the police officers moments before silently unleashed a sudden barrage of attacks upon them. Blasts of fire, wind blades, and ice spikes whizzed toward the seven figures. A dark cloud in the sky suddenly pressed down, and several thin bolts of lightning struck one man precisely. In the intense electric flash, his clothes were incinerated, his body charred black, and he collapsed onto the ground.

The other six, caught off guard, cried out in agony as they fell amidst the flames, wind blades, and ice spikes.

The motorcade suddenly accelerated, quickly turning and charging down the road heading west.

However, a heavy truck had somehow appeared from that direction, and its driver sharply angled the vehicle to block the road, cutting off the convoy's path. The side of the truck bed suddenly lowered, revealing a line of four high-energy rapid-fire cannons inside. The convoy braked hard, but the cannons had already begun their low thrum, spitting out high-energy shells like raindrops that blasted the front two SUVs into the air, where they exploded; the occupants inside never had a chance to escape.

Another heavy truck barreled recklessly from the eastern road, smashing directly into the last SUV in the convoy and sending it tumbling several dozen meters. The twelve mounted officers were already galloping furiously toward the scene, unleashing another twelve high-energy particle streams. The crashed SUV and the other two were simultaneously pulverized into dust.

The wheels on the three large limousines suddenly retracted, revealing plasma nozzles underneath. Pale blue flames erupted from the nozzles, and the three limos slowly lifted into the air.

Dozens of figures scrambled out of the remaining SUVs, unleashing a counterattack with various assault rifles and firearms. Among them, twelve individuals who were clearly Innate-level fighters shouted fiercely, drawing afterimages as they lunged toward the charging mounted police, the girls constantly spewing various energy attacks, and the four high-energy rapid-fire cannons firing wildly.

Windows in several roadside buildings suddenly exploded outward, and nearly a hundred dark figures leaped down from above, accompanied by torrents of wind, rain, lightning, and fireballs.

The ground cracked open with deep fissures, and over a dozen sturdy men and women, coated in thick earth energy, erupted from underground. They met the twelve fighters head-on, clashing together with loud ping-pong sounds. These sturdy individuals moved slowly with sluggish footwork, but their strength was immense; no matter how many times the fighters struck their bodies, they seemed incapable of inflicting any substantial damage.

The twelve mounted police officers abandoned their lances, leaping dozens of meters high from their horses and clearing nearly a hundred meters in the air before landing directly on the three airborne limousines. These officers blasted intense beams of multicolored light from their hands, relentlessly bombarding the roofs of the limos, causing them to sway violently.

Three of the four high-energy rapid-fire cannons suddenly raised their barrels, and dozens of high-energy rounds struck the plasma nozzles of the three limousines. The three vehicles plummeted to the ground trailing thick smoke.

More than a dozen armed robots, clutching laser cutters, rushed out of the heavy truck positioned behind them. They swept the area with incessant fire while closing in on the three crashed limousines. The high-energy laser cutters hissed with a chzzzt sound as they sliced large holes into the limo bodies. Dozens of mechanical arms reached into the cabins, snatching the passengers out and tossing them onto the ground, smashing them instantly into pulp.

Eighteen alloy crates, each nine feet square, were brought out by these armed robots. Several magnetic levitation sedans swooped down from the roof of a nearby high-rise. The doors of the cars sprang open, and several burly men leaned out halfway, reaching for the alloy crates held by the robots from a distance.

Reminding you to take a break during the intermission—

Where are the monthly votes? Where are the monthly votes?

Only a few days left; don't hold back the monthly votes you have! (To be continued)