Profound Heaven Street appeared chaotic, but in truth, every step fell upon a prearranged beat. The moment the gray-clad man struck at the patrolling disciples, the news had already been passed along without a sound.
When Lan Jingqi received the report, the teacup in his hand did not even tremble. He merely nodded lightly, set it down, and said, "Understood. Proceed according to the plan."
The order spread outward like ripples. The captains of every squad accepted it silently and returned to their positions.
Alert, evacuation, communication, support—someone was responsible for every line, and someone watched over every area. No one panicked, and no one hesitated. This had all been rehearsed thousands upon thousands of times.
That was why, when the Demonic Cultivators revealed themselves from within the crowd and began attacking indiscriminately, the patrol squads reacted so swiftly—they had been waiting for this moment all along.
The explosions of sword light colliding with demonic qi rang out through the streets and alleys. The patrolling disciples seemed hard-pressed, forced back step by step by the Demonic Cultivators. Yet if someone stood high above and surveyed the whole scene, they would discover a subtle fact—their "retreat" had a direction.
One group held the front line, confronting the Demonic Cultivators head-on and pinning them firmly in place. Their goal was not to kill the enemy, but to contain them. As long as the Demonic Cultivators could not spare a hand to pursue the scattered, fleeing crowds, half their task was complete.
The other half weaved through the chaos, guiding helpless passersby along safe routes and evacuating them from the battlefield in an orderly fashion.
Everything proceeded in perfect order, like a precision machine, each gear turning quietly in its proper place.
When Profound Heaven Street had been renovated, relevant emergency plans had