Hand Of God

Chapter 68 Was I too obvious?

“I’ve actually been meaning to ask,” Adam typed quickly, “what exactly is your identity? You’re definitely a superhuman—and a high-level one at that.”

“You always seem to know about things the moment they happen—sometimes even before I do.”

“Are you part of some special superhuman division?”

He hit send.

Across campus, Diana stood beneath the student dormitory, phone in hand. Her heart skipped a beat.

*Oh no. Was I too obvious?*

Just moments earlier, she’d received intel about widespread anomalies erupting around Orienta University. Years of field experience had honed her instincts—and this felt wrong.

It wasn’t just the recent turbulence across the global superhuman community. This felt… targeted. Like someone was deliberately probing Orienta’s defenses.

Worried Adam might go off solo again—like he did during that human trafficking case—she’d come to check on him. Finding his room empty, she’d sent a warning through her Icecream alias.

But in her urgency, she’d slipped. The message was *too* specific, *too* well-informed. Suspicion was inevitable.

Staring blankly at Adam’s message, Diana froze—unsure how to respond.

Then another notification popped up.

“What’s wrong? Is it hard to talk about? Are you in trouble?”

That jolted her back to reality. She typed fast:

“My identity… isn’t ordinary. Yes, I’m a superhuman.”

“It’s not that I want to hide things from you—it’s just… my position is complicated.”

“Can we talk about this later? I’ll explain everything—I promise.”

Adam read the reply and gave a small shrug. No big deal.

In his mind, it made sense. The world had to have covert divisions—shadow units operating beyond public view.

He’d always pictured Icecream as a quirky, bubbly, slightly goofy girl—full of energy and terrible jokes.

Never in a million years would he have guessed she was part of some classified operation.

*Guess people really aren’t what they seem.*

He’d deal with that later. Right now, something urgent demanded his attention.

“Are you really from PR?” a voice cut in.

Sapphire had stepped close, eyes intense. “Quit that department! Join Campus Patrol instead!”

Adam didn’t even hesitate. He just repeated firmly, “Just make sure my credits and chamber time are logged,” before launching straight into the air and vanishing toward campus.

Sapphire stood frozen, mouth slightly agape—not from makeup, but from the blood she’d coughed up earlier—staring at the sky in disbelief.

“Level-5…” she whispered.

“Sapphire! Are you alright?!”

Finally, the rest of Campus Patrol arrived, gaping at the forest of ice sculptures and their battered teammate slumped on the ground.

“Did someone help you? Was it that high-level senior? Or… the Ice Queen?!”

With her teammates’ support, Sapphire rose shakily to her feet, still dazed, as if waking from a dream.

“No… neither of them.”

“The one who helped me…” She paused, voice thick with disbelief. “...was from PR.”

“What?!” Her teammates’ jaws dropped in unison.

---

Thirty minutes later, dusk settled over Orienta University.

On the main athletic field, a tense gathering had formed: the heads of the university’s six elite departments, Vice President Smith, Diana, and several senior instructors.

PR members weren’t supposed to be here—but Adam, fresh off his first day in the department, had become the exception.

He’d barely joined… and already become PR’s public face.

Every face in the circle was grim. They all knew: when an incident spanned this wide, it was never random.

“Of all times, they had to strike at night—this is a nightmare!”

“If we mishandle this, the public fallout could be catastrophic. We’ve just welcomed freshmen—there’s so much on our plate, and now this?”

“Deploy teams immediately! Patrol’s already reporting casualties!”

“And remember—civilians must not be harmed!”

The department heads spoke with authority. In the superhuman world, the traditional student-teacher hierarchy didn’t apply.

Diana, for instance, hadn’t even graduated yet—but her power surpassed most faculty.

Similarly, these department leaders held more operational sway than many professors.

Here, disciples could surpass their masters. Masters didn’t need to outshine their disciples.

“What are we even waiting for?” snapped the head of Special Operations, visibly agitated. “We’re wasting time! We don’t even know where they’re hitting next—every second we delay, more people get hurt!”

His eyes then locked onto Adam, who’d been standing quietly with eyes closed.

“And you—PR? Never seen you before. Isn’t PR just the cleanup crew? What’s your take, huh?”

“Don’t disturb him,” Diana interjected coolly.

The Special Ops head blinked, caught off guard.

Silence fell. All eyes turned to Adam—still frowning, eyes shut tight.

Just as several leaders opened their mouths to issue orders, Adam’s eyes snapped open.

“Map!” he demanded, turning sharply to Smith. “A full aerial campus map—and a marker!”

Confused but compliant, Smith quickly produced a large schematic and handed it over.

Adam dropped to his knees, spread the map flat, and began drawing—fast, precise, relentless.

Within seconds, red circles bloomed across the entire layout—dozens, then *hundreds*.

“These locations,” he said, voice taut, “are where I’ve sensed possessed individuals. Send teams now.”

The group crowded around, stunned. What had been chaos now had structure. They hadn’t even imagined the scale—over a hundred hotspots!

It was like having a human satellite scanning the entire campus in real time.

“Bro, are you serious?!” someone blurted. “Are you psychic?!”

Adam ignored him. He stood, brushing dust off his pants, and asked Smith directly:

“Orienta University definitely has high-level psychic-type superhumans on staff, right?”

“Yes,” Smith replied curtly, sensing the gravity in his tone.

“Then here’s the thing,” Adam said, locking eyes with her, his gaze sharp and knowing.

“If I’m not mistaken… none of them are on campus tonight. Are they?”

The implication hung heavy in the air—deliberate, ominous, and unmistakable.

When Adam spoke, Smith’s mind went blank for a moment—she hadn’t even considered that possibility.

The emergency had just erupted. She’d only just received the alert and rushed out of her office.

It was already nighttime. Most students and faculty were asleep. The emergency calls had barely gone out, and many hadn’t even woken up yet.

So she’d assumed—naturally—that mobilizing personnel would simply take time.

But now, under Adam’s intense scrutiny, she mentally ran through the names of Orienta’s top-tier psychic superhumans—and her expression hardened with each one.

“Murphy,” she said slowly, “flew to UHG right after the last assessment-free admission trial to deliver the official recordings. He hasn’t returned yet.”

“Lee was assigned to the Dimotelin University Opening Ceremony—they needed a high-level psychic for the special event. He left two days ago.”

“Reed is still recovering in bed after overextending his mental energy during that last Acolyte engagement.”

“And Joel… she’s not on campus either, is she?”

Psychic-type superhumans were rare to begin with. High-level ones? Even rarer. It didn’t take long to recall all the key names.

And to Smith’s growing unease—every single one of them was absent.

“But… this has to be a coincidence,” she insisted, though her voice lacked conviction. “Just bad timing.”

“I know,” Adam replied evenly. “Of course it could be coincidence. But if this was engineered—if someone deliberately cleared the board—then the implications are terrifying. It would mean the rot goes all the way to the top.”

He paused, then added quietly, “And while I was scanning with my ability, I heard… other things.”

He met Smith’s eyes, his voice dropping lower. “If I’m being blunt—and I know you might not want to hear this—I believe there’s a traitor inside Orienta University. Or within the broader superhuman command structure. And whoever it is… they hold significant authority.”

The department heads, who had already begun dispatching teams toward Adam’s marked locations, froze mid-step. Every head turned toward him.

The word traitor hung in the air like a blade.

And “significant authority”?

In this circle, everyone held significant authority.

Silence fell—tense, heavy. Eyes flickered sideways, scanning neighbors with newfound suspicion.

It was Smith who broke the tension, stepping forward quickly.