Lâm Minh returned to the secure ASEAN intelligence facility where Hạnh, Cường, and Tuấn were undergoing their initial Qi Refining training.
The atmosphere in the dedicated training chamber was thick with the smell of sweat, exertion, and the faint, metallic tang of low-grade Spirit Stones being consumed.
He found his crew in varying states of exhaustion and concentration.
Cường, his burly frame glistening with perspiration, was gritting his teeth, his face contorted as he struggled to guide a wispy strand of Qi through his meridians.
Tuấn, leaner and more naturally attuned, seemed to be having slightly more success, a faint warmth emanating from his Dantian, though his brow was furrowed in deep focus.
Hạnh, her expression a mixture of fierce determination and frustration, sat cross-legged, her breathing ragged as she attempted the initial Qi absorption.
Overseeing them was a stern-faced, older operative from Trinh's department, a man named Bao, who possessed a solid late-stage Qi Refining cultivation himself – likely one of the few who had achieved it through the military's older, less efficient, and often dangerous experimental programs.
He was there to ensure safety protocols were followed and to provide basic guidance when Lâm Minh wasn't present.
"Operative Minh," Bao greeted with a respectful nod as Lâm Minh entered.
"Your… students… are showing remarkable diligence, if varied aptitude."
Lâm Minh nodded, his gaze sweeping over his crew.
He could see the struggle, the immense effort it took for them, ordinary humans with no inherent spiritual roots like his, to take these first steps on the path of cultivation.
It was a stark reminder of the advantages his System and rebirth had granted him.
"How are they progressing?" Lâm Minh asked Bao.
"Operative Hạnh is tenacious, but her initial Qi absorption is slow. Operative Cường possesses surprising internal fortitude, but his control is crude. Operative Tuấn shows the most natural affinity; his Dantian has already accumulated a discernible amount of Qi," Bao reported, his tone professional.
"They have consumed the allocated Spirit Stones as per your initial guidance. The primary challenge for all of them is maintaining focus and enduring the discomfort of initial meridian sensitization."
Lâm Minh approached his crew.
They looked up, their faces tired but lighting up with a mixture of respect and hope upon seeing him.
"Minh! You're back!" Cường grunted, wiping sweat from his brow.
"This… this Qi stuff is harder than wrestling a Deathclaw Wasp!"
"Nothing worth having comes easy, Cường," Lâm Minh replied, a faint smile on his lips.
He addressed all of them. "How do you feel?"
"Like my insides are being twisted by gremlins," Hạnh admitted, though her eye still held that familiar, unyielding glint.
"But… I felt something. A flicker. Just for a second."
"That flicker is the beginning, Hạnh," Lâm Minh encouraged.
"Hold onto it. Nurture it."
Tuấn nodded, his expression serious.
"The warmth in my belly… it's real. Faint, but real. It's… different from anything I've ever felt."
Lâm Minh spent the next few hours with them, personally guiding their meditation, correcting their postures, and offering advice on Qi circulation based on his own (albeit System-accelerated) experiences.
He explained the importance of patience, of not forcing the Qi, but gently coaxing it.
He used his own Foundation Establishment Qi to subtly demonstrate the flow, allowing them to sense its pathways.
His guidance, more intuitive and nuanced than Bao's by-the-book instructions, seemed to help.
Cường managed to achieve a more stable internal circulation, a look of dawning comprehension on his face.
Hạnh finally managed to sustain a small, continuous absorption of Spirit Essence. Tuấn even managed to guide his nascent Qi in a full, albeit wobbly, cycle through his primary meridians.
"You're doing well," Lâm Minh told them genuinely.
"Better than many would. This path is not for the faint of heart. Keep at it. The strength you gain will be your own, earned through effort and will."
He left them with a fresh supply of Low-Grade Spirit Stones and a renewed sense of determination.
Seeing their progress, however slow, was gratifying.
They were his first true allies on this new path, and their growing strength would be an asset.
Later, he met with Yan to report on his "personal leave" and to get an update.
"Your parents are well?" Yan inquired, a rare hint of personal interest in his voice.
"They are," Lâm Minh confirmed. "The resources provided were… appreciated."
"Good. Familial ties, even for operatives like us, can be a source of stability. Or a vulnerability. Manage them wisely." Yan then turned to official matters.
"Commander Trinh's analysts have made some progress with the Skulls' ledger and the data chips. The ledger has given us a clearer map of their street-level network and identified several more corrupt Enforcers. They are being… dealt with discreetly."
"And the encrypted chips? The shipping manifests?" Lâm Minh asked.
"The manifests are proving more difficult," Yan admitted.
"The origin points are deliberately vague. 'Outer Sector Warehousing' covers a vast, largely unregulated industrial sprawl. 'Zone 11 Undisclosed' is even more problematic, as Zone 11 is almost entirely under Madakaros control, a veritable no-man's-land for our forces."
Lâm Minh frowned.
Zone 11.
If the raw materials for Crimson Dream, or the drug itself, were coming from an area controlled by the Madakaros, it strengthened the theory of direct alien involvement.
"However," Yan continued, "the encrypted chips yielded a small breakthrough. One of them contained fragmented logistical data, heavily coded. After days of work, our cryptographers managed to isolate a recurring alphanumeric sequence that doesn't match any known ASEAN or black market coding. They suspect it might be a unique identifier, perhaps for a specific transport company or a clandestine handler."
He slid a small data card across the table. "This is the sequence: XR-7734."
Lâm Minh memorized it instantly. "Have you cross-referenced it with any known transport guilds or smuggling operations?"
"Extensively," Yan said.
"No direct matches. Which suggests it's either a very new, very discreet operation, or it's not human-run at all. Or, at least, not entirely."
He paused, his gaze sharpening.
"There's one more thing, Minh. One of Trinh's deep-cover informants within the more… technologically advanced scavenger guilds reported something unusual a few days ago, around the time of your raid on the Skulls. A brief, powerful, and highly localized energy surge was detected emanating from the deeper, more hazardous levels of the old Sumitomo Industrial Complex in the Outer Sector. The complex is vast, mostly abandoned, and known to have deep, unmapped subterranean levels. The energy signature was… peculiar. Not Madakaros tech, not standard ASEAN. Something else. And it vanished as quickly as it appeared."
Sumitomo Industrial Complex.
Outer Sector.
An unknown energy surge.
Lâm Minh's mind connected the dots. "Could this XR-7734 sequence be linked to whatever is happening at Sumitomo?"
"It's a long shot," Yan conceded.
"But the Outer Sector Warehousing was mentioned in the manifests. And Sumitomo is the largest, most notorious 'unregulated' warehousing and salvage operation in that entire zone. If someone wanted to set up a clandestine manufacturing or transport hub for something like Crimson Dream, using advanced or alien tech, Sumitomo's deeper, forgotten levels would be an ideal location – shielded, difficult to access, and already a hive of illicit activity."
A new lead.
A dangerous one.
The Sumitomo Complex was a legend among scavengers, a place of both incredible riches and sudden death, rumored to be haunted by rogue machines, mutated creatures, and even leftover Madakaros war drones.
"Commander Trinh wants this investigated," Yan stated.
"She believes the Sumitomo Complex might be the missing link – the place where the raw materials are processed, or where Crimson Dream is manufactured, before being handed off to gangs like the Skulls. And this XR-7734 might be a key to unlocking that."
"What's the plan?" Lâm Minh asked.
"Infiltration and reconnaissance," Yan said.
"You, with your Foundation Establishment abilities and stealth skills, are best suited for this. We need you to get into Sumitomo, specifically its deeper, less-explored levels. Look for any signs of advanced technology, unusual manufacturing processes, or any presence matching the description of the cloaked figure. And see if this XR-7734 identifier appears anywhere – on equipment, containers, personnel."
"Sumitomo is a death trap, Yan," Lâm Minh stated bluntly.
"Even for a Foundation Establishment cultivator."
"We are aware of the risks," Yan replied, his tone unwavering.
"You will be provided with schematics – though most are outdated and unreliable for the deeper levels. You will have access to any specialized equipment you deem necessary, within reason. And Hạnh's crew, if their initial training permits, can provide peripheral support, perhaps creating a diversion or securing an exfiltration route in the upper levels. But the deep penetration will be on you."
He looked directly at Lâm Minh. "This could be it, Minh. The chance to uncover the heart of the Crimson Dream operation and, perhaps, confront the Maka Legion's influence directly. The risk is immense. But the potential intelligence gain is incalculable."
Lâm Minh felt a familiar thrill of anticipation mixed with a cold dread.
Sumitomo.
It was a name whispered with fear and awe.
Now, he was being tasked with plumbing its darkest depths.
"When do I start?"
"As soon as you are ready," Yan replied.
"Familiarize yourself with the schematics. Requisition your equipment. Your window of opportunity may be closing. The supplier, after the Skulls' recent disruption, will be on high alert. They may already be moving or changing their operations."
Lâm Minh nodded.
His path was clear, leading him into one of the most dangerous, forgotten corners of the besieged city.
The shadows were calling, and within them, he hoped to find the answers that could save Hanoi, and perhaps, give humanity a fighting chance.