News of the plane crash couldn't be suppressed, but the Japanese zaibatsu wielded truly formidable power.
Under the Teai-kai's covert manipulation, the corporations pressured the government.
Politicians weren't known for their integrity. Under pressure, they could only fall back on their specialty: playing dumb and deflecting reporters' questions from all sides.
"Plane crash? Rumors. Pure rumors."
"Plane crash? We haven't received any confirmed reports. Further verification is needed."
"Plane crash? The investigation is still ongoing!"
The deflection continued without end. Though the politicians felt this situation was extremely dangerous, they still refused requests from several countries to assist with the investigation.
This included their American allies.
Charlie and Samantha were worried sick. After the plane went missing, the Japanese side had suppressed the news for over a day. By the time it reached America and was confirmed, two full days had already passed.
The two of them ignored Japan's protests entirely. To hell with Japan—they didn't care what anyone thought! They were going to find their daughter, and anyone who tried to stop them could go to hell.
Charlie contacted an old war buddy stationed at the U.S. military base in Okinawa. Without a second thought, he was ready to fly to Japan to search for his daughter.
Natasha was worried too—deeply worried. But she knew Bella's capabilities better than anyone. Her bargain-bin big sister had real skills.
She figured a mere plane crash probably couldn't stop Bella. But then again... what if?
The whole family rushed to the airport, ready to fly to Japan for a rescue mission. Fortunately, at the critical moment, Bella's call came through.
Natasha's expression shifted from worry to relief, then to playful teasing. The corner of her mouth quirked up as she signaled Charlie and Samantha to pull over.
"Hello? You really are—" Natasha glanced at her parents and swallowed the words "a walking disaster."
"You're okay now? Where are you? Do you need us to come see you?"
The sisters exchanged a few teasing jabs. Between them, this kind of small talk was unnecessary—knowing the other was safe was enough.
The phone quickly passed to Charlie. Bella reassured her father she was fine, then said a few words to Samantha.
She explained she was already at the embassy and completely safe.
It took considerable effort to convince them not to come. Now was definitely not the time to visit Japan—it was dangerous here! Someone might get blood splattered on them!
After watching Charlie and Samantha head home, Natasha called Bella again. This time her expression was far less relaxed.
She lowered her voice: "What the hell happened? Where were you these past three days? Don't tell me you were on a date with some fangirl."
"What are you talking about? I got ambushed by a bunch of bastards! Ruthless too—indiscriminate attack! I'm going to kill them!"
The embassy story was a lie. Bella was currently dressed like a tourist, strolling through the streets of Chiba Prefecture instead.
After she and the Divine Dragon entered the real world, they'd mass-wiped the survivors' memories. Then she'd had Root forge her flight records. According to official data, she'd arrived in Tokyo a week ago. Consumption records and all were verifiable—she had no connection whatsoever to the crashed flight.
The Flying Dutchman had deposited all the survivors on an unnamed island off the coast of Japan. Bella stayed hidden in the shadows, observing.
Soon she spotted the Teai-kai's main force. They swarmed the island, working in pairs to carry away every unconscious survivor.
The Divine Dragon had extracted all the immortality-related energy from these people's bodies—whether they'd been exposed for one year or two—solving the problem at its root.
But the Shura's influence couldn't be fully eliminated. Unless these people all became monks, devoting themselves to Buddhist practice and using the dharma to temper the violence in their hearts, anyone who'd spent a year there would likely become mentally unstable upon returning to society. Those who'd spent two years—and had experienced the killing of the battlefield—had a high probability of becoming murderers.
Bella couldn't remove these effects, but she figured the Teai-kai shinobi should have a way.
Leaving Doujun locked up on the ship under Jason's watch, she'd barely rested at all, spending the entire time tracking these Teai-kai shinobi.
"I need you to look something up," Bella said.
"Go ahead."
"Help me investigate the Japanese Teai-kai. Where's their headquarters? How strong is their military force? And... well, just find whatever information you can. The more detailed, the better." Bella scratched her head. Her intelligence capabilities were seriously lacking.
The Teai-kai weren't stupid either. The hundred-plus survivors had been split among ten speedboats, which then scattered in all directions. She was alone—how was she supposed to track them all?
Natasha's response was crisp and efficient: "The Japanese Teai-kai? Got it. I'm on it."
Bella walked with her hands in her pockets, looking no different from any other pedestrian on the street.
Unable to clone herself, she could only pick one group to follow.
This was a refrigerated truck transporting meat. The Teai-kai shinobi had loaded cargo, unloaded cargo, switched vehicles, gone into warehouses, come out of warehouses—putting on a dizzying display of counter-surveillance techniques right before her eyes.
If she hadn't sensed no supernatural detection and found no trackers on herself, Bella would have thought she'd been made. These people were ridiculously cautious.
The group she was tailing should have a base in Chiba Prefecture, but for now they were circling the outskirts.
Before long, Natasha called back.
"We've identified nineteen Teai-kai bases. Eleven of them are in Japan."
Bella thought for a moment: "How many in Chiba Prefecture?"
"One."
"Give me the address."
...
Madame Gao was over four hundred years old. She'd been properly cultivating her chi for nearly four centuries.
Calling her martial arts invincible would be an exaggeration. The old woman was already ancient. Even with her profound chi nourishing every cell in her body, she was approaching her limit. Fifty years at most—her current body would reach its breaking point, and no amount of training would help.
Four hundred years was no short span. Many unified dynasties hadn't lasted that long.
Thor, the God of Thunder, was only fifteen hundred years old. The Ancient One, that peerless genius, had just recently broken through the seven-hundred-year barrier.
Madame Gao wasn't as powerful as them, but in her era, she'd been someone with talent, flair, and determination.
Unfortunately, chi ultimately couldn't compare to magic. Mages could borrow external forces, leverage certain rules, or sign contracts with devils to extend their lifespans without much difficulty.
For a martial artist, extending one's life was incredibly difficult.
Everything had to be excavated from within. You slowly extracted life force from your cells, extended the number of times they could divide, carefully maintaining yourself every day, terrified that any sudden movement might kill you.
Madame Gao lived with extreme caution. Sometimes she even had to play the submissive role. Despite her profound cultivation, she adhered to the principle of enduring whatever could be endured. She hadn't fought anyone in over eighty years.