"Amitabha, please do not jest with this poor monk. Sinful, sinful." Number Two walked toward his seat, head bowed, glancing at me with a slight smile.

Seeing his build, yet his somewhat shy demeanor struck me as odd, but I returned the smile out of politeness.

Number Two walked straight to the seat across from the main seat, settling down opposite Number One.

Then I watched him mumble to the bamboo basket on his back, "Master, I've arrived. Let me set you down first."

I instantly froze, whispering to myself, "Master? What Master? Is there a person in that bamboo basket?"

I examined the basket on his back closely. The holes were exceptionally small, and it was covered with a thick layer of padding; if someone were inside, it seemed uncertain if they could breathe.

If one insisted on stuffing a person in there, a smaller frame wouldn't be an issue.

However, given Number Two's tone of deep respect for his 'Master,' I was certain he wouldn't treat his mentor in such a manner.

Unable to fathom the situation, I could only look toward Number Eight beside me, hoping she might offer some insight.

Number Eight merely shrugged and replied, "None of us here have ever seen what’s in that basket. Number Two has never allowed us to touch it. Even that annoying worm, Number Three, pleaded countless times, but he wouldn’t even let him touch it, which resulted in them fighting—Number Three was severely injured that time."

I nodded, my curiosity about the contents of the basket intensifying.

By this time, Number Two had placed his basket in the corner. The black-furred monkey on his shoulder obediently hopped onto the lid of the basket, crouching there as a guardian, preventing any outsiders from approaching.

Number Two sat down, looking utterly exhausted. He picked up the coffee cup before him and downed a large gulp, as if drinking plain water, then told Number Eight, "Another one!"

I thought to myself, drinking coffee like that, wasn't he afraid of being awake for nights?

Just as Number Eight was about to rise, Number Two stopped her. "Oh, forget it. I'll get it myself. This time I want plain water."

Then he strode purposefully towards the water dispenser.

At that moment, Number Eight turned to me and said, "But I’ve heard the one in the basket is incredibly powerful. Every time Number Two opens the lid, something unusual happens. As for what happens, it depends on the situation. I once saw him in battle; the moment he opened the basket, his enemy froze as if bewitched, rooted to the spot. Furthermore, whenever Number Two consults his Master in the basket, he receives precognitive insights—like foretelling an event two hours before it happens—and he’s never been wrong."

She paused, then added, "Oh, right. Number Two is primarily responsible for Incident 6, because it's rumored that the one in the basket can accurately distinguish spiritual entities."

I recalled that Incident 6 referred to paranormal events; meaning this monk was a ghost-catching specialist.

Seeing him like this, he also resembled some kind of charlatan.

Number Two returned with a cup of plain water, sat down, took another large swallow, and exclaimed, "Alright, when does the meeting start? This poor monk has urgent business!"

Number One, opposite him, retorted, "What's the rush? You're always frantic, in a hurry to reincarnate? Aren't there still two more people coming?"

Number Two’s eyes widened, and after struggling for a long moment, he couldn't utter a word—truly guileless.

Number One seemed amused by this and continued, "If you rush any more, I’ll drag what’s in your basket out and roast it. Others might not know what it is, but I certainly do—it’s a..."

"Slap!" Suddenly, someone slammed a hand down on the table, making the coffee cups resting on the long table jump.

I was startled. Number Two’s palm had struck the solid wood table, leaving a deep imprint. That sheer palm force was astonishing. If that struck someone's head, it would instantly turn them into sludge.

The man in the main seat spoke up, "Enough! I am here, what are you doing? Everyone sit down, especially One, shut your foul mouth."

Number One, who had stood up glaring at Number Two, now pouted and sat down when the man in the main seat spoke, looking thoroughly disdainful.

I broke out in a cold sweat, once again deeply understanding what Yang Zhifeng meant by 'eccentrics.'

If I got involved with them, I could be facing mortal danger at any moment.

Just as the atmosphere settled into another stalemate, the elevator finally chimed again.

I watched three people emerge.

One was the young attendant who had accompanied us up—the rumored X-Class official.

The other two were a woman who looked like a butcher from the market, wearing a floral dress, thick legs, and a pair of sandals; her legs were almost as large as an elephant's. Upon exiting, she immediately exclaimed, "Oh my goodness, what a bright hall this is! This table must be worth a fortune, look at that chandelier, shimmering gold, absolutely magnificent!"

The other person resembled a shut-in college student: stooped back, so thin he looked like a heavy drug user, with eye bags nearly reaching his lips.

As soon as he stepped out, he scanned the room, finally fixing his gaze on Number Eight’s chest. He stole a quick glance before hastily looking at the floor, as if he’d seen something he shouldn't have.

I knew that there was no way this big sister and this shut-in would be here without reason; they must be Number Eleven and Number Twelve.

Indeed, Number Eight stood up and led these two to sit in the two seats behind me.

The older woman kept chattering on, praising the beautiful decor and the good coffee, while the shut-in remained silent, looking extremely constrained.

After the two were seated, the man in the main seat cleared his throat lightly, signaling everyone to quiet down.

When the chatter ceased, the man spoke, "Our Group Nine is truly the liveliest it's ever been. For the first time, we have reached a total of twelve members. It seems the glorious age is rich in talent."

"First, I will state my identity. I am Long Yan, the Chief Director appointed by the National Security Bureau for Superpower Management. In other words, I am your highest-ranking officer, responsible for assigning your tasks and supervising your conduct. Naturally, I am also an X-Class ability user myself."

He cleared his throat again. "The reason for gathering all members of Group Nine this time is twofold: first, we have three new arrivals who need to be introduced to foster better camaraderie within the organization. More importantly, however, is the frequent occurrence of Incident 6 lately, which has reached a critical state, requiring us to devise countermeasures together."

At this, Number One slumped onto the table, yawned as if about to fall asleep, and muttered, "Whatever, I’m not interested. Just handle that guy casually. Let's wrap this up quickly; I want to test the newcomers' strength."

Number Two, opposite him, opened his eyes wide, adopting the look of an attentive student, and said, "How can you say that? Incident 6 is an extremely serious matter; it could threaten our very existence. We cannot approach it with such a flippant attitude!"

Long Yan on the platform coughed again, signaling them to stop arguing.

Then he pressed the button on the slide remote, and a projection immediately appeared on the wall.

I was stunned when I saw the image: a headless corpse lying on the floor, while a dark, shadowy head emerged from the severed neck.

The chaotic debris of furniture and thick, sticky human blood filled the scene, creating a terrifyingly vivid spectacle.

At this point, Long Yan spoke, "Do you see? This is an unknown life form parasitic within a human body, an alien species not belonging to our world. It is currently attempting to escape from the person's spinal column."

"From this image, we can deduce that this creature can alter its form, compressing itself to survive within the human spine, which indicates their shapeshifting ability is quite strong."

"In fact, through sample analysis and eyewitness reports, we've discovered that this life form is composed of a certain type of gas. However, how gas can materialize into a humanoid form with fully developed limbs is something we have no lead on yet."

"In summary, once a human body is parasitized by this thing, there are two manifestations. The first is amnesia: the host forgets their name and everything else. The second is the activation of undeveloped potential within the human brain, causing the host to awaken superpowers."

"As we all should know, ordinary humans utilize only 5-6% of their brain capacity in a lifetime. Superpowered individuals generally utilize a percentage higher than that, so superpowers are not mutations, but rather a human awakening, just like all of you present."

"We suspect that this alien entity, composed of gas, must possess some ability to forcibly awaken humans, and upon completely controlling the brain, it seeks to destroy our society."

"Although we don't know their purpose for coming here, they must have a mission. For now, we call them 'Emissaries.'"

"We have currently identified two types of Emissaries. The Type 1 Emissary is parasitic within the human nervous system; they can control human consciousness, allowing the host to instantly awaken tremendous power."

"The Type 2 Emissary, after occupying a human body, completely releases itself into all the host's blood vessels and muscles to achieve total control. However, in some occupied hosts, the consciousness manages to maintain itself."

"Simply put, Type 1 focuses on seizing the spirit, retaining the host's original mobility, while Type 2 seizes the flesh, resulting in stronger explosive power. Crucially, Type 2 can also continuously evolve, enhancing its abilities by the number of bodies it occupies—they are formidable opponents."

"The number of Emissary sightings has now exceeded ten, reaching a very serious stage. Therefore, our task moving forward is to locate these Emissaries through eyewitness reports, and ideally, capture live specimens."