Hand Of God

Chapter 67 Civilians

Turns out, his current location was on the outskirts of Orienta. Somewhere in the perimeter zone, a crisis had erupted.

The message was vague—only that civilians had been “psychically influenced,” driven into frenzied states, and were now extremely difficult to contain.

Urgent backup needed—preferably Level-4 or higher.

Adam scratched his head. *Level-4? I’m Level-5—definitely qualified.* But wait… wasn’t this supposed to give credits and Simulated Training Chamber time? The post didn’t mention any rewards.

Hesitantly, he typed a reply:

“Are there credits and chamber hours for this? How does the reward system work?”

...

On a deserted street just outside Orienta University, a young woman stood tense and battle-worn.

She was from Campus Patrol, assigned to this sector today.

Before her, a crowd of civilians drooled uncontrollably, eyes clouded with chaos. Some were unnaturally strong; others fired crude energy blasts from their palms.

She gripped two energy pistols, retreating step by step, her uniform torn and disheveled.

These weren’t Acolytes or Deities—just ordinary people corrupted by some external psychic influence. And because they were still civilians, she couldn’t use lethal force.

It was a nightmare scenario.

*Dingling.*

Suddenly, her distress signal got a reply—already?!

What luck!

Heart leaping with hope, she opened the message…

And nearly choked on her own breath.

“??!!”

*Who the hell is this?! What kind of i***t—?!*

She fired back instantly: “Who are you?! This isn’t a joke! It’s an emergency! Get real help—teachers, Combat Division—NOW!”

Seconds later, another message popped up:

“Got it, it’s urgent. Don’t worry. But just to confirm—are there credits? How’s the reward calculated?”

That did it.

Fuming, she abandoned typing altogether and screamed into her phone:

“YES! CREDITS, CHAMBER TIME, BONUSES—WHATEVER YOU WANT! JUST SEND HELP BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE! YOU’LL BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE IF YOU DON’T!!!”

Adam read the message and grinned. *Perfect.* Time to see how this credit system actually worked.

He typed back without hesitation:

“Hold tight. I’m en route to the battlefield—ETA five minutes!”

As soon as Adam finished speaking, he shot off the ground like a missile, streaking toward the marked location at full speed.

“Get someone with non-lethal crowd-control abilities over here—fast! I suspect…”

Sapphire Blackwell of Campus Patrol shouted into her phone while desperately fending off the frenzied mob surging toward her.

But Adam didn’t reply. Not a word.

Her stomach twisted with anxiety. Was he even coming? What was happening on his end?

“Damn it… I might need to pull real backup,” she muttered to herself, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth. She fired a precise shot—just ahead of a man’s toes—as a warning.

But warnings meant nothing to the possessed.

Sapphire’s superpower was Precision Marksmanship—deadly in long-range combat or assassination. But this? This was different.

These weren’t enemies. They were ordinary civilians, their minds hijacked by Deity-level psychic influence. She had to stop them—*without hurting them*.

That single restriction tied her hands behind her back. She was being pushed back, step by step, with nowhere to go.

Crack! Clang!

A sickening crunch echoed through the empty street. Blood sprayed.

One of the possessed civilians had lunged at a streetlamp, clamping his jaws around the metal pole and biting down—shattering several teeth in the process.

But pain meant nothing to him now. Eyes wild, he wrenched the entire lamppost free—twenty centimeters thick—and swung it like a club.

“AAAAAHHHH!”

Foam and blood flew from his mouth as he raised the massive steel pipe overhead and *slammed* it down toward Sapphire.

This wasn’t just a weapon—it was a literal 20cm-thick steel beam.

Sapphire barely leapt aside in time. The impact cratered the pavement where she’d stood.

Now the man spun the lamppost like a windmill, swinging it in wide, chaotic arcs. Others followed instinctively—ripping more streetlights from the ground and charging at her with brutal, indiscriminate swings.

On the desolate street, half a dozen seven-meter-long steel poles rained down on Sapphire from all sides. She dodged, rolled, ducked—but the space was closing in.

Then—thud.

One lamppost caught her square in the chest.

The blow hit like a freight train—compounding an already unfortunate anatomical reality.

BOOM!

She went flying backward and *embedded* herself in the brick wall behind her.

“Ugh!” She coughed up a mouthful of blood, ignoring the searing pain in her ribs and organs—because another lamppost was already arcing toward her.

CRASH!

The second strike smashed through the wall, sending her hurtling through the debris like a ragdoll.

She hit the ground hard, struggling to lift her head. Her fingers clutched her twin energy pistols, knuckles white.

*Don’t kill them. Don’t kill them.*

These were innocent people—victims of Deity-corrupted influence. Their minds weren’t their own. With proper treatment, they could recover.

They’re not the enemy. They’re hostages of a force beyond their control.

That belief had always anchored her. Without it, she could’ve ended this in seconds—headshots, clean and efficient.

But if she killed them, their bodies might still be puppeteered by the Deity’s energy… and their souls would be lost forever.

Now, a third lamppost came crashing down toward her skull.

She gritted her teeth, raised her arms to block, and squeezed her eyes shut—ready to take the hit.

But just then—a rush of wind.

She felt herself lifted off the ground as if carried by clouds, then gently set back on her feet.

She opened her eyes.

The lamppost shattered *inches* from where she’d been standing.

Beside her stood a lean young man, swaying slightly but standing tall.

Adam had arrived.

“You’re finally here!” Sapphire gasped in exhausted relief—then scanned the area, eyes widening in alarm. “Where’s the rest of your team? You came alone? Watch out!”

She saw another lamppost swinging down toward Adam’s back—but he didn’t even flinch.

At the last second, he sidestepped with effortless grace, moving just one meter to the side. The steel pole slammed into the pavement right beside his foot—*as if by sheer luck*.

“It’s just me,” Adam said casually. “What’s wrong? You okay? Are these Acolytes really that tough?”

“They’re not Acolytes!” Sapphire snapped. “They’re civilians! You can’t hurt them!” She grabbed his arm. “Which department are you even from, kid?”

“Me? I’m from PR.”

???

The relief on Sapphire’s face froze—then curdled into outright fury.

She yanked him out of the danger zone, shoving him behind cover.

“Are you insane?! A PR member showing up alone?! You’ll get yourself killed!”

“Get out of here now! These people have no control—they’ll tear you apart! This isn’t a joke!”

“Go get real help! I can hold on a little longer—but bring someone with control-type powers!”

She shoved him backward and turned to re-engage, pistols raised.

Adam rubbed his nose, bemused.

*Guess PR really has a reputation around here…*

Then again, with a department head like Kenny, it made sense.

“You said you need to restrain them—without causing serious harm, right?” Adam called out, stepping forward again.

“Just go! I can’t protect you, you—”

She stopped mid-sentence.

Because in the blink of an eye, the entire street had turned white.

Frost bloomed across the air. The raging mob—still mid-scream, mid-swing—froze solid.

Not dead. Not injured. Just… encased in elegant, glistening ice sculptures, lampposts and all.

“I kept the temperature as low as possible without causing lethal damage,” Adam explained with a shrug. “They’ll probably get frostbite, but they’ll live. It’s the best I can do for non-lethal control.”

Sapphire stood utterly still. Minutes passed before she whispered, dazed:

“Since when did PR have this kind of firepower?”

“Am I… dreaming?”

Just then, Adam’s phone buzzed—multiple notifications at once.

Several new distress calls. And one message from Icecream.

> Icecream: Did you hear? Something’s happening near Orienta University—mass civilian possession by Deity-level influence.

>

> Suspected coordinated attack. Likely Acolyte-backed.

>

> But don’t go chasing leads alone this time. If you get involved, stick with university personnel. This reeks of a trap.

Adam’s brow furrowed as he read it.

Honestly… he’d long suspected Icecream's identity.