Starting from the Planetary Governor

Given the current situation, even teammates needed to be silenced, used to attract the enemy at the very last moment of their lives, and Wente himself had to risk his life to execute diversion tactics. Why would Bird saddle himself with a burden unless absolutely necessary?

The reason was precisely that Cisney wasn't a burden.

Cisney was obedient. His body had undergone initial mechanical modifications, making him more agile than the average child. The main purpose of having him was to serve as a cover for their identities when necessary. Cisney was a bona fide resident of Blackbird City, as was his father, and Bird had brought their genuine documents with him.

In even worse circumstances, Cisney could be deceived into going out to draw the target's attention, giving Bird a chance to see if he could fight for a glimmer of hope at a critical moment...

Hopefully, that last scenario would never materialize.

With Cisney in tow, Bird crouched down and approached a black car.

Through the car window, he saw a driver inside, craning his neck out of the opposite window to look around, focused on the battle situation between the two nearby buildings.

The drivers used in these 'pickup' operations by the Blackbirds were generally not machine servants extensively modified with cybernetic enhancements, but rather more normal humans. Otherwise, when recruiting people from the outside, it could easily lead to trouble.

Bird didn't hesitate. He pulled out his pistol and, through the car window, fired a shot that went through the driver's head.

Immediately afterward, he reached through the broken window, pulled open the car door, and dragged the corpse to lie under the driver's seat.

Cisney hurried into the car as well and, sitting beside him, helped Bird strip off the driver's coat so Bird could change more quickly.

While Bird was changing, Cisney started to clean the bloodstains, but Bird pushed his hand down.

The sounds of battle outside had ceased.

It seemed likely that Wente was already dead.

After a while, the guards gradually returned.

The car convoy was ready to set out again.

Before leaving, however, the guards checked each car.

This was Bird's greatest test.

What was so difficult about assassinating a driver amidst chaos when no one was watching and donning his clothes?

The challenge lay in how to assume the driver's identity convincingly.

There were too many holes in his disguise.

The bullet hole in the car window could be explained away as a misfire during the recent fight; but what about the bloodstained work clothes? Claim to be injured? If the guards asked him to leave the vehicle for inspection, the body couldn't be hidden. And if the guards recognized the original driver's face, Bird's facade would be pierced immediately...

In other words, these were not just holes in the disguise; anyone with a functioning brain would realize there were problems.

To cover all this up, he needed to rely on his talent for mental manipulation.

But... he was a Demon Hunter, not a Spiritual Energy user.

If he had the mighty powers of the legendary governor, what would be so hard about it? It wouldn't just be about covering a few discrepancies; he could entirely manipulate minds, turning people into his most loyal followers, making them brave fire and water or even commit suicide at his whim.

But Ilan Bird was far from that level.

The more intact and strong-willed the person's mind, the greater the chance of mental manipulation failure; the bigger the discrepancy between the manipulation and the person's perception, the more likely the manipulation would fail by multiple folds...

Everything he was doing now, pretending to be the driver, wearing the driver's clothes, erasing the bloodstains as much as possible, was meant to reduce resistance during the mental manipulation process.

It could be successful.

But the fewer the discrepancies, the better.

He couldn't let anyone see the body; manipulating a person to overlook a corpse was impossible; he had to pray they wouldn't recognize his face, or the manipulation might also fail; he had to use his language during manipulation, be as error-free as possible, and explain away abnormal situations like bloodstains and bullet holes convincingly—the more plausible the excuse, the higher the chance they'd believe it and not investigate further...

He pondered all this as the inspector guards got closer and closer.

Suddenly, Bird's forehead was beaded with cold sweat.

The approaching guard... wasn't human!

Underneath the hat, the face was a mechanical skull with no human brain tissue left.

What to do?

Mental manipulations worked on living beings, but Bird couldn't ensure their effectiveness on machine servants, let alone now facing what might be a cyborg even more advanced than a machine servant!

At least machine servants, who had part of their brain removed and altered to maximize instinctual motor functions, still counted as part of 'humanity'; a pure mechanical being...

Well...

Would mind manipulation still be effective?

But what other choice did he have?

He could only grit his teeth and continue with the original plan.

Approaching the car window, the guard's steps halted as he indeed took notice of the bullet hole on the window.

Bird's deliberately relaxed voice rang out, "Did you catch the person just now? They've damaged my car window!"

With his words, the ability to manipulate minds quietly activated.

He tapped into the other's mind.

Do mechanical beings even have minds? This question he couldn't be sure of before now had an answer:

They indeed do.

But it feels utterly different from 'humans'.

That icy touch was as though he had been plunged into ice water, causing him to shiver.

And in this icy sea of mind, Bird could find no traces of human 'emotions'. All he encountered were the chilly 'commands' and 'logic'.

Was this good news or bad news?

The bad news was that much of Bird's past experience with mind manipulation was now useless.

HIs experience was mostly in extracting intelligence during interrogations. The most effective tactic was to enhance certain emotions, such as panic, pain, or fear, in conjunction with standard interrogation techniques to shatter the subject's resilience.

That trick was no longer useful.

Mechanical creatures do not have emotions. What's there to amplify?

But the good news was that mind manipulation was still possible. Only now, instead of altering emotions or memories, he had to twist commands and logic.

The former was impossible; at least he didn't have the skill to twist instructions hardcoded into a mechanical being's processing chip.

But distorting logic was feasible.

And surprisingly easy.

The guard's eyes flickered red for a moment.

Seeing the bullet hole, its logic was twisted to perceive it as incidental damage from earlier strife, logical;

Seeing the bloodstains on the window and the driver's clothes, its logic was twisted to attribute them to wounds from incoming bullets, logical;

The direction of the blood splatter was from inside out, inconsistent with the bullet's entry, illogical... disregard, deemed logical. Read exclusive chapters at empire

The face was unfamiliar, but because of the blood smearing from the driver's injuries it appeared different from recorded footage, illogical... disregard, deemed logical.

Everything is normal, no need for a thorough check.

The guard walked away.

Only after Bird saw in the rearview mirror that the guard's gaze was no longer on them did he allow the smile to fall from his face.

He leaned on the steering wheel with both hands, breathing heavily. His head was splitting; his arms were trembling...

It wasn't just from the tension, but also due to the immense consumption of Spiritual Energy.

Yet on his face, there still lingered a faint smile.

At least, the most challenging part at the beginning was over.

Instructions to depart came from the car's radio. Bird started the vehicle.

There were still many difficulties ahead.

The method of driving the vehicle, the feel of it was different from the Alliance's vehicles; the corpse underfoot was extremely bothersome, lying on top of his feet, making it hard to control.

Fortunately, he wasn't required to race, nor did he have to show off too much skill. All he had to do was do his best to keep the vehicle stable and moving forward.