I Was Written as Cannon Fodder, Now I'm Rewriting the Genre

Chapter 71: Chapter 67: Healer! Is It You?

The streetlights in the old industrial district were few and far between, casting a weak glow over row after row of abandoned factories. Ivy crawled across the red brick walls, the windows were cracked and weathered, and the iron gates were eaten through with rust.

The tactical unit had already fanned out. Black armored vehicles blocked every exit, snipers held the high ground, and a drone swarm formed an aerial surveillance net that sealed off the entire area like a sealed drum.

Nan Jiamu sat inside the command vehicle, a row of surveillance monitors spread out before her.

She wore a camouflage Combat Uniform, her hair pulled back in a low ponytail, her face unreadable.

On one of the screens, a cat darted through the weeds. Nan Jiamu didn’t give it a second thought — stray cats were everywhere in this abandoned factory district, and several had already shown up on the infrared feeds.

”All exits are sealed. No sign of the target.”

”Are we certain the Blood Clan member fled here??”

”Positive. Special ops had eyes on him the whole time. This is where he vanished, and there’s no indication he slipped out anywhere else.”

Nan Jiamu said nothing. Her gaze settled on the center screen, where a drone was streaming live footage.

”Hold all entry and exit points. Wait for my order.”

Nan Jiamu leaned back in her chair and pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, then opened a private message to Heavenly Dao Rewards Diligence.

[Winter Night Fire]: I’ve got him cornered. So what’s the next step? You can finally tell me now, can’t you — exactly what needs to be done to stop this Blood Clan member from opening the gateway between the two worlds?

[Heavenly Dao Rewards Diligence]: Leave the rest to me. Keep your people on the perimeter and hold position. Don’t make any rash moves — we don’t need unnecessary casualties.

Nan Jiamu felt a vague, unsettled feeling she couldn’t quite name. Heavenly Dao Rewards Diligence had been stringing her along this whole time, trying to convince her that only he could stop the entrance to the Ancient Abyss from being opened — that no one else could do it.

She didn’t buy it for a second.

Nan Jiamu focused inward and reached out mentally. ”Hey, Troublesome — what’s your status?”

The voice of Naming is Too Troublesome came through directly in her mind. He was Cole from the Red Corpse World, operating under his nickname as a callsign within Nan Jiamu’s squad.

”I’m sweeping Zone B with Mao Xuewang and Xian Yu. No target yet. Ye Se and Signal are in Zone A — nothing on their end either, no target and no one who looks like Heavenly Dao Rewards Diligence.”

”Copy. Stay low. I’m heading to link up with Ye Se and the others.”

Nan Jiamu stood and took the pistol and magazine from Wang.

”This Blood Clan member almost certainly has an Extraordinary Ability. Tell everyone to be careful — no unnecessary heroics. Nobody moves until they hear from me.”

”Please stay safe yourself, ma’am!”

Nan Jiamu allowed herself a small smile. ”Relax. I’m not that easy to kill.”

...

Yin Zhen pushed her way out of the weeds and shook the bits of grass and dust off her fur.

A cat’s body sat too low to the ground. Her field of vision was limited — she couldn’t see very far — but she could hear plenty of footsteps.

”Quite the party.”

She crouched behind a crumbled low wall and poked half her head out to survey the area.

Something felt off to Yin Zhen. This had all gone too smoothly. Even accounting for Nan Jiamu mobilizing every available resource in Guan City, it was still too easy.

Would a Blood Clan member really let himself get cornered this easily?

With the Council backing him, he’d have at least one Extraordinary Ability. Why not use it to break through the perimeter? Why just sit here and walk straight into a death trap?

Yin Zhen decided to hold back and observe first.

The mission mattered, sure — but so did her own hide. Her dog life — no, cat life — was equally important.

Yin Zhen pressed herself against the base of the wall and crept deeper into the factory complex, using the weeds and broken bricks for cover.

The further in she went, the more a metallic, bloody smell seeped into the air. Yin Zhen’s cat nose twitched. She followed the scent and slipped inside a warehouse that had half-collapsed in on itself.

The sheet-metal door had a deep dent in it — kicked open by brute force. Inside was nearly pitch black, with only pale moonlight filtering down through a few holes in the roof.

Yin Zhen’s paw froze mid-step. Everywhere she looked — blood.

Not random smears or scrawls. It was a single massive, complete image, painted entirely in blood.

The lines twisted and coiled in unsettling ways, like some ancient incantation, or the work of a deranged abstract artist.

But Yin Zhen recognized the pattern immediately. It was identical to the markings on the two great doors inside that Gothic space she passed through every time before crossing over.

At the center of the pattern lay a male corpse, his abdomen torn open in a massive wound, completely drained of blood.

Swallowing back her revulsion, Yin Zhen moved closer and licked at the edge of the half-dried blood.

A flicker of images flooded her mind — from the perspective of the victim in his final moments.

A man in a dark jacket, both hands soaked in blood, smearing the wall over and over, muttering something under his breath.