In the pitch-black farm, Faustus and several of his subordinates hid in a shadowy corner, sweat pouring down their faces. The freezing winter wind came from nowhere, slipping down the backs of their necks, and only then did they realize their backs were already soaked with sweat.
They had encountered attacks from all kinds of monsters. It was hard to say what those things were—perhaps enraged old farmers.
Yet their enemies appeared and vanished like ghosts, were impervious to blades and bullets, moved with incredible speed, and were occasionally accompanied by eerie, frantic piano music.
This was how it happened.
Faustus had originally been patiently drinking coffee in the small building, listening to classical music from the gramophone as he waited for good news. Montgomery had carried out a comprehensive cover-up plan, and no one here knew what was happening outside. He had plenty of time.
But before his people returned, every light on the farm suddenly went out. Only faint moonlight filtered through the gaps in the windows. Clouds drifting in from somewhere veiled the moon at that very moment, and darkness swallowed heaven and earth.
Faustus did not panic. He rose to his feet, approached the window, and listened closely.
All the generators had stopped running. The sound of their engines turning was gone.
Though he did not know what had caused every generator to go offline, repairing them and restoring the lights was necessary. Without their eyesight, his elite subordinates might not even be able to beat a hunting grizzly bear.
"Send a few people to repair the generators."
His men were not ordinary soldiers. They were basically all elite Hydra spies, and repairing generators was something every one of them could do.
Upon receiving the order, a squad immediately dispersed across the farm to solve the