Extreme Cold Era: Shelter Don't Keep Waste-Chapter 898 - 126: The Trap Tightens
At the closing time, the tavern's door was tightly sealed, but the secret agent, bringing with him the garrison, kicked open the tavern's door with a powerful thrust.
The tavern, not yet in operation, was engulfed in silence. The morning light pierced through the colorful glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
The agent's sharp gaze swept across the immaculately cleaned bar, with liquor bottles neatly arranged on the shelves, reflecting a faint light.
He suddenly reached out and pulled out a bottle labeled "Highland Whiskey," and behind it on the oak wall panel, a crow pattern deliberately scratched with a fingernail faintly appeared in the dim light.
"Search!" he commanded succinctly, his voice as cold as ice.
The following garrison soldiers immediately sprang into action, their heavy boots thumping on the wooden floor with a dull sound.
Soon, they found something unusual in the wine cellar—a cleverly concealed secret door behind a loose brick wall.
Opening the door revealed a narrow five-square-meter hidden chamber in front of them.
The scene inside the secret room starkly contrasted the tidy tavern outside: a few hand-drawn circles were pinned to the walls, marked in red pen with key locations of Marsel City; on a simple wooden table lay several scattered pages of notes, the top page boldly reading "Marsel Hotel - Kitchen," the handwriting hurried yet clear.
"As expected, there's an insider," the agent sneered, a dangerous curve forming at the corner of his mouth.
He handed the note to the officer in charge, speaking in a low voice, "Immediately investigate these locations, especially the tavern owner's..."
His voice abruptly stopped, his hawk-like gaze locking onto the floor of the chamber's corner—where a tiny, nearly imperceptible trace of pale purple powder lay.
The agent crouched down, the fingertips of his black leather glove gently picking up a bit of the powder, bringing it to his nose to sniff.
His expression turned icy in an instant, like a blade dipped in poison: "Purple flower powder..."
"When specially concocted and mixed with beef bone broth, it becomes highly toxic," he slowly stood up and surveyed the chamber, a dangerous hint in his voice: "This formula isn't something ordinary resistance members can master."
When this piece of intelligence was presented to Perfikot, she was sitting at her desk, reviewing documents.
Hearing footsteps, she slowly raised her sharp eyes, using her slender fingers to take the report, rhythmically tapping on the notes on the desk, the parchment detailing the poison formula glinting in the candlelight.
"This poison requires professional pharmaceutical knowledge," she mused, her fingertips sliding over the formula's marked rare ingredients: "Check all pharmacists in Marsel City, especially..."
Before she could finish her sentence, the entire hotel suddenly shook violently, crystal chandeliers clashing with a harsh noise.
A series of deafening explosions resonated from afar, the scarlet flames illuminating half the night sky, dyeing the window glass a glaring red.
Perfikot's feather pen snapped at the sound, ink splattering onto her white sleeve.
"Report! The garrison's ammunition depot in the east of the city has been blown up!" an attendant hurriedly rushed in and shouted, his uniform dust-covered: "The warehouse is completely destroyed, the garrison is organizing firefighting!"
Perfikot quickly stepped to the floor-to-ceiling window, her silk skirt silently gliding over the carpet.
She looked at the billowing smoke rising distantly, a cold smile appearing at her lips, "Finally, they couldn't hold back..."
The window glass reflected the glint of cold light in her eyes.
She turned around to give orders to her deputy, her voice calm and resolute, every word infused with icy determination: "Immediately strengthen the city's alert, enforce a curfew at all city gates, and focus on protecting the areas surrounding the energy tower."
"Additionally, prepare a fake itinerary, claim that I'm going to personally inspect the operation of the energy tower in the city tomorrow."
The deputy was about to leave, but Perfikot added, "Wait, lock up and interrogate all guards involved in the munitions depot patrol today. Such a massive explosion couldn't have been achieved without an insider."
Her gaze turned towards the north, where the "Rust and Roses" inn was located.
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In the deep silence of the night, in the basement of a dilapidated inn named "Rust and Roses" in the northern part of the city, flickering candlelight cast wavering shadows on the damp walls.
Jiang Bo'Er cautiously surveyed the surroundings, confirming safety before taking out an oil paper package from his sleeve and handing it to the hunched-over old man in front of him.
"This is the last batch," he said hoarsely, his cracked lips seeping traces of blood, "Is it enough?"
The old man, trembling, took the package, carefully examining the purple powder under the candlelight, the powder shimmering with an eerie glow in the light.
"Enough to paralyze the entire city's energy towers for three days," his hoarse voice carried undeniable excitement, pouring the powder into a rusted copper distiller.
The distiller emitted a faint hum, its complex internal gears beginning to turn.
"Come tomorrow..." The old man's wrinkled face forming a sinister smile, his cloudy eyes flickering with madness in the candlelight.
Just at that moment, heavy footsteps suddenly echoed upstairs, interspersed with the crisp clang of metal armor clashing.
Jiang Bo'Er's face changed abruptly, his right hand unconsciously reaching for the dagger at his waist, "They've found us here!"
The old man moved with an agility uncharacteristic of his age, swiftly hiding the distiller in a concealed wall niche.
He grabbed Jiang Bo'Er's arm with a surprisingly strong grip, "Remember, tomorrow at noon, when the clock tower strikes twelve..."
As he spoke, he pushed Jiang Bo'Er toward the back door.
However, as soon as the back door was pushed open, a squad of fully armed Steam Knights was ready and waiting.
Their bulky steam-powered armor gleamed with cold light in the dim corridor, the leading knight raising his chain-saw sword, its teeth spinning at high speed, emitting a shrill hum: "By the command of the Regent..."
In the nick of time, the old man pulled out a delicate glass bottle from his ragged sleeve and smashed it to the ground.
As the glass shattered, a dense purple smoke billowed out like a tide, instantly filling the entire basement.
Amid the smoke, the angry shouts of the Steam Knights and the sound of the chain-saw sword cleaving the walls could be heard.
When the smoke finally cleared, the basement was empty, with only a concealed secret door on the back wall still slightly swaying, as if mocking the incompetence of the pursuers.
Soon after, within the administrative hall at the center of Marsel City, Perfikot sat at the Governor's desk, listening to the latest report from her subordinates.
Her slender fingers rhythmically tapped on the mahogany desktop, her nails making a crisp sound against the wood.
"So they're planning to act tomorrow at noon..." she said, looking out at the eastern horizon slowly turning white, the pre-dawn light outlining the massive silhouette of the city's energy tower.
A sliver of cold light flashed in her eyes and a slight upward curve graced her lips, "Perfect, we'll be waiting for them in the engine room to catch them in their own trap."
When she turned to give the final command to her deputy, her voice was chillingly calm, devoid of any emotional fluctuation: "Secretly deploy two teams of Steam Knights to ambush around the energy tower, and have another team disguised as repairmen."
She paused for a moment, her gaze growing sharper, "Remember, capture the masterminds alive. Especially that old man, I want to interrogate him personally."
After the deputy saluted and left, Perfikot stood alone by the window, watching the dawn rise, the carefully orchestrated game finally reaching the moment to close the net.
