I knew what he intended—to use instantaneous transfer to yank us both out.

But strangely, the moment he seized my hand, his body flickered into an afterimage, only to snap back to solid form just as they were about to vanish.

This entire event unfolded in less than a thousandth of a second; I barely registered it.

Yet, at that moment, Yang Zhifeng’s face was stark white as he told me, "My ability is sealed!"

My heart plummeted entirely. A fierce will to survive erupted, and without knowing where it came from, a surge of psychokinetic energy shot out in all directions.

I forcefully stabilized the entire elevator, commanding it to slow its drop until it finally halted.

Without Shen’s aid, summoning such immense psychokinetic power was agonizingly taxing. So, while maintaining control over the elevator, I urged Yang Zhifeng, "Hurry, find a way out! I can’t hold this much longer."

Unexpectedly, Yang Zhifeng offered a slight smile, grasped my arm, and announced, "Alright, the test is over. You performed excellently."

Then, he slowly walked over to the alarm button beside the elevator door, pressed it gently, and stated, "Let us out now."

As he finished speaking, the elevator doors hissed open. Outside, the light was dazzlingly brilliant, a crimson carpet unrolled down the center of the hall, ending at an extended conference table where about fifteen or sixteen people were seated on either side.

Seeing that I still hadn't relaxed my hold, Yang Zhifeng chuckled, "Okay, okay, that’s enough. Perhaps I pushed it a little too far, but it was just a test, hahaha."

Hearing his assurance, I slowly let out a breath.

When I withdrew all my psychokinetic force, a wave of profound exhaustion washed over me.

Yang Zhifeng immediately supported me, saying, "As expected, ten tons is still too much for you to manage comfortably."

I jumped, startled, and asked, "What ten tons?"

Yang Zhifeng gestured toward the elevator and explained, "We loaded ten tons of cargo onto this elevator specifically to measure your maximum burst capability—how much weight you could control. I reported some details about your status to the higher-ups, so they arranged this trial. Everyone had bet you wouldn't manage to hold it, so I made a fortune this time, because I always believed in you; I bet you could handle it."

A small surge of annoyance bubbled up inside me. What if I couldn't bear the strain and had died? These people were truly irresponsible.

Yang Zhifeng seemed to sense my thoughts, patting my shoulder reassuringly. "The attendant who brought us up is an X-level officer capable of instantly freezing all objects. With him here, if it seemed you couldn’t cope, he would have intervened to save you. And me—my power wasn't sealed at all. With both of us guarding you, there was virtually no chance of real harm."

Since he had put it that way, I couldn't really argue further, managing only a wry smile.

He helped me out of the elevator, and the people at the distant conference table all turned to look.

At that moment, a woman in professional attire, who had been waiting by the elevator, stepped forward to meet us.

She glanced at the file on her clipboard and asked in a low, raspy voice, "You are the newly ascended Number 10? Hu… Hu Erwan, 24 years old, Han ethnicity, graduated from Beijing XX University, Biology Department. However, we couldn’t locate any records of you at the school."

A shock went through me. How could they have pulled my school records in such a short time?

I had previously given Yang Zhifeng the history of Nie Chuan; naturally, there was no person named Hu Erwan at our university. Her direct question left me momentarily speechless.

Just then, Yang Zhifeng interjected, "Hey, hey, Eight, did we ever stipulate that our new recruits must reveal their real resumes? This doesn't affect his standing as one of us."

I mused that this thirty-something woman with blunt bangs and a mole on her lip must be Number Eight. Her glasses looked remarkably like those worn by a chief surgeon—did her ability involve dissecting humans by hand?

While my mind was racing, Eight replied, "That’s right. In our bureau, we can find everything anyway, so asking is irrelevant. No secret can truly evade us."

I managed a helpless smile, unsure of what to say next.

Suddenly, the usually severe Eight broke into a slight smile, extended her hand toward me, and said, "In that case, welcome to the fold, Number 10, Yu. Everyone has witnessed your power; you are a very strong comrade. Keep it up."

Although I was somewhat drained, given her friendly demeanor, I extended my hand politely.

The instant my hand met hers, a warm current flowed from her touch.

My body instantly felt enveloped in a pleasant warmth, indescribably comfortable. The preceding exhaustion seemed to vanish within seconds.

While astonished, I had a good idea of Number Eight’s capability—she must be a healer!

Suddenly remembering Yang Zhifeng’s words—that my strength surpassed that of Seven and Eight—it made perfect sense. How could I possibly struggle against a mere healer?

As my vitality fully returned, Eight released my hand with a subtle, satisfied smile, clearly pleased with my recovery. "Alright, everyone is waiting to see you. Let's not keep them waiting any longer."

I nodded to Yang Zhifeng and followed Eight, walking toward the conference table.

I surveyed the surroundings: all European-style floor-to-ceiling windows let in the lights from other buildings outside and the moonlight. A massive crystal chandelier illuminated the hall, yet the light still felt somewhat dim.

From a distance, I couldn't even make out the faces of those seated around the table.

Many of them remained silent, occasionally glancing toward me over the rims of their coffee cups, stirring a strange feeling within me.

The black high-backed chairs, the crimson carpet, the subdued lighting, the silent atmosphere, and the cunning moonlight filtering through the windows—this was the exact ambiance of a vampire gathering...

Frankly, the less these people spoke, the more nervous I became. My eyes darted across each face. I couldn't discern features clearly, but I noticed most of them were quite young, including a girl who looked no older than fifteen or sixteen.

Next, I settled into a chair positioned near the outer edge.

Yang Zhifeng walked further ahead and took a seat near the head position—Number Four certainly received preferential treatment.

The person occupying the head seat was dressed in a suit, legs crossed, holding a newspaper, seemingly oblivious to my presence.

I noticed smoke curling up from behind the newspaper, indicating he was smoking.

Counting those present, there were seven people in total.

The two seats adjacent to the head position were empty, as was the seat directly opposite me.

This suggested that Numbers One, Two, and Nine had not yet arrived. The man in the head seat was clearly not one of the Nine, and his exact status remained a mystery.

At that point, Eight brought me a cup of coffee and sat down beside me, remarking, "We just need to wait a bit. Considering everyone showed up just to see you, the attendance is quite full today. Those two fellows, One and Two, genuinely didn't believe you could handle ten tons. They told me to contact them only if you succeeded in holding the weight, so they’ll be a bit late. As for Nine, that person has always been highly solitary and never attends group meetings. Furthermore, we have eleven, twelve, and thirteen arriving today. Our Group Nine is certainly getting lively."

Hearing her mention that everyone was there to see me first, only to follow up by saying three newcomers were coming, I thought she was very diplomatic. She must be the one specifically in charge of Ninth Group external affairs?

The people seated nearer the front had initially watched me with interest, but now they had turned away to attend to their own affairs, making me wonder what they were thinking.

The atmosphere felt cool and somewhat awkward, so I nervously lifted my coffee and took a sip.

Looking at the others, they seemed completely accustomed to this environment, showing no sign of discomfort.

I sighed inwardly. These people were weirder than the last; Yang Zhifeng hadn't been wrong.

However, Yang Zhifeng had also lied to me earlier, saying I wouldn't have the chance to meet ability users from other Groups—yet here they all were.

Just as I was thinking this, the elevator dinged again, and the doors slowly began to open.

Strangely, there was no one inside.

I was wondering about this when the person in the head seat suddenly lowered his newspaper.

This occupant of the head seat was entirely white-haired, yet he didn't look like an old man—perhaps around fifty—and he was chewing on a cigar.

His hair was slicked back, shining white. He had thick eyebrows, large eyes, and a square jaw, radiating an aura of imposing righteousness. If he were in a film, he’d certainly play a principled gang leader or a grand master of martial arts.

Yet, this 'master' frowned when he saw the elevator open to reveal no one.

At that moment, the person seated across from Yang Zhifeng spoke up, "Boss, please sit down. That guy always does this; you’ll get used to it."

The man opposite Yang Zhifeng was Number Three, the colleague Yang Zhifeng had mentioned sharing a mission with previously.

But Yang Zhifeng’s description of that mission focused mainly on Number One and himself; he hadn't mentioned what Three actually accomplished.

Now, looking at Three, he appeared utterly ordinary—around thirty, scruffy beard, small frame, with a squeaky voice. He was sitting cross-legged, instantly evoking the image of a standard, bargain-hunting neighborhood uncle.

Despite wearing a designer suit, Three lacked any corresponding air of distinction; in fact, he looked rather comical.

The heavy 'vampiric' atmosphere that had settled over the room was entirely shattered by his single utterance.

I envisioned Three arguing with a market vendor over a few cents.

Just then, the floor vibrated slightly, causing the tableware on the table to clatter loudly.

Some coffee sloshed out of my cup, making me flinch as it burned my hand.

Then, a series of successive thuds followed, seeming to originate from the elevator area—they sounded like footsteps, one after the other.

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