The hum of the teleportation array died down, replaced by the sterile, cool air of the Bureau 15 central hub.
While Elena breathed heavily and Kunto cleaned the black ichor off his spear, Lu Chen simply stepped off the platform. His white coat remained as immaculate as the moment they had left. He didn't look like a man who had just gouged out the eye of a cosmic horror; he looked like a scholar returning from a quiet stroll in a garden.
"Sector 4 stabilized. Anomaly suppressed," the mechanical AI voice announced.
Lu Chen didn't wait for the debrief. He walked straight to his private quarters—a sanctuary of silence tucked away in the high-tech heart of the Bureau.
Inside, the smell of burnt ozone was replaced by something far more refined. He ignited a small piece of Agarwood (沉香). The thin, blue smoke coiled upward, instantly soothing the jagged edges of the reality-distorting headache that haunted the others.
He moved with rhythmic grace, boiling mountain spring water to brew a pot of Ancient Tree Puerh. As the dark, crimson liquid hit the porcelain cup, the "Qi" in the room began to harmonize. This was Lu Chen's way of "healing"—not with spells, but with the Art of Living.
He reached into his pocket and placed the glowing crystal shard on the table. The Fragment of Sight.
"You're not planning to keep it for yourself?"
Lu Chen didn't turn around. He knew the scent of Bai Su's fox-fire anywhere. The Shanghai medium was leaning against his doorframe, her eyes fixed on the pulsing shard with a mixture of desire and fear.
"A fragment of a diseased universe is like a wild beast," Lu Chen replied, his eyes focused on the tea. "It needs a leash."
He picked up his brush and, using a specialized gold-dust ink, wrote a miniature seal-script character for 『 观 』 (PERCEPTION) directly onto the surface of the crystal.
The shard hissed. The chaotic, blinding light inside it instantly transformed into a steady, warm golden glow. It was no longer a dangerous anomaly; it was a Grade-A Artifact.
Lu Chen tossed the shard casually behind him.
Elena, who had just entered the room, caught it in mid-air. She gasped as the warmth of the artifact cleared her blurred vision instantly.
"For your Tarot deck," Lu Chen said, taking a sip of his tea. "A witch without eyes is just a fortune teller. Now, you can see through the veils of the next world."
Elena clutched the shard to her chest, her pale face flushing with a rare emotion. "Thank you, Calligrapher. I... I owe you a debt."
CLAP. CLAP. CLAP.
"Fantastic! Absolutely tremendous! Nobody cures a universe like this team. Nobody!"
The refined atmosphere of the room was shattered by a loud, boisterous voice. A tall man in an incredibly bright, golden-tailored suit strode in. He had a coiffed mane of blonde hair and an expression of permanent, aggressive confidence.
This was Golden Sparrow, the Liaison Officer of Bureau 15.
"I told the Council! I said, 'Gentlemen, my team is going to win so much, they'll get tired of winning!'" Golden Sparrow grinned, gesturing wildly with his hands. "The media—well, the secret media—is going to love this. We're making the Universe Great Again!"
He walked over to Lu Chen, patting him on the shoulder with a heavy, forced familiarity.
"Great job, Lu. Really. But let's be honest," Golden Sparrow leaned in, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper that everyone could still hear. "The big guy, Kunto? His earth-magic... it's a bit messy, isn't it? Very low-energy. It's interfering with your beautiful calligraphy. You'd be much better off if you focused more on the Western elements. Trust me, I know these things. I'm the smartest guy in the room."
Kunto's knuckles whitened around his spear. Bai Su narrowed her eyes, the fox-fire in her hand flickering.
Lu Chen set his tea cup down. The sound was soft, but it made Golden Sparrow jump slightly.
"The team works because the ink needs the paper to hold its weight," Lu Chen said, his eyes cold and fixed on the Golden Liaison. "If you want to play politics, Sparrow, do it in the boardroom. Not in my tea room."
Golden Sparrow's smile faltered for a micro-second before snapping back into place. "Politics? Me? Never! I'm just looking out for the brand. Anyway, rest up! The next sector is opening soon. It's a bad one. A real disaster. But with my leadership and your... painting... we'll handle it!"
As Golden Sparrow strutted out, Lu Chen noticed a small, burnt folder tucked under the man's arm. On the corner of a stray page, he saw a faded stamp: [PROJECT SEVENTH - REDACTED].
Once the room was quiet again, Lu Chen picked up his brush. He didn't dip it in ink. He simply traced a character onto the empty air.
『 觉 』 (AWARENESS)
Outside the window, in the shifting shadows of the teleportation bay, a silhouette flickered. A man in ancient, tattered robes stood there for a heartbeat before vanishing into the folds of space.
The Seventh Person. The Sinner.
Lu Chen looked at his tea, the reflection of the golden character still shimmering in the dark liquid. The universe was sick, but the Bureau... the Bureau was infested.