Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!

The squad leader's face twisted in anger at Old Man Carter's words.

"How the hell could this be suicide? You're telling me eight men all decided, at the exact same time, to hang themselves?" he barked.

Old Man Carter snorted. "And you're telling me this bunch of old folks, women, and kids managed to take down eight trained soldiers in one go?"

The squad leader clenched his jaw.

He hated to admit it, but the old man had a point.

Looking at the villagers, he saw mostly elders and women. Only a handful of younger men stood among them, none of them looking remotely capable of overpowering his men.

He knew what his soldiers were capable of.

Even if someone had tried to take them by surprise, there was no way they'd all go down without a fight—without making a sound.

And then there was the boy.

The soldier who had sounded the alarm earlier had mentioned something strange, there had been nine of them in the room that night. He had fallen asleep, and when he woke up, the other eight were hanging from the rafters.

If this had been murder, why was he left alive?

Before the squad leader could process this further, a man wearing glasses stepped out from the courtyard. He was older than most of the soldiers, his expression calm but serious.

Seeing the squad leader still gripping the village chief by the collar, he quickly intervened, pulling them apart.

"Easy, Hayes," he said. "This isn't what you think."

The squad leader scowled but loosened his grip.

This man was Instructor Ross, the unit's political officer. His family had been coroners for generations, and though he had never formally trained in the field, he had spent years studying old forensic manuscripts left behind by his ancestors.

He had been inside the courtyard, examining the bodies.

Now, standing before the squad leader, he spoke carefully.

"They weren't killed," he said.

The squad leader stiffened. "You're saying… it really was suicide?"

Instructor Ross hesitated, glancing at Old Man Carter before replying, "I'm only saying they weren't murdered."

The squad leader's stomach twisted.

Not murdered…?

Then how—?

His thoughts screeched to a halt.

Ghosts.

The word crawled up his spine like a whisper. For a moment, he found himself staring at Old Man Carter.

Those seven marks on the rafters… could they really mean something?

Before he could say anything, the men he had sent to check the well came running back. They were carrying eight uniforms.

The same uniforms that belonged to the eight dead soldiers.

The squad leader's blood ran cold. "Where did you find these?"

One of the men swallowed hard. "In the well, sir. Buried deep in the mud."

"Someone tossed them down there?"

"No, sir," the soldier said. "They weren't tossed. We dug them out. And the dirt around them… it hadn't been disturbed."

The squad leader felt his breath hitch. That made no sense. How could their uniforms have been buried under untouched earth?

And yet, there they were. Eight bodies hanging, stripped to the waist. Their uniforms buried beneath layers of dirt, as if they had been underground for years.

And worse…The eight men who had died? They were the same eight who had gone down into the well.

The same eight who had screamed. The same eight who had clawed their way back up, confused and unable to remember.

The squad leader felt his stomach churn. This wasn't just unnatural. It was impossible.

But the horror didn't end there, because whatever happened next—no one ever found out.

Doe's translucent figure paused in midair, her voice trailing off.

Ethan and the others exchanged glances, confused.

"What do you mean, 'no one found out'?" Ethan asked.

Doe crossed her arms, her usually playful expression completely serious.

"I mean exactly that," she said. "Nobody knows what happened after this."

And that was somehow even more unsettling.

Doe seemed to know exactly what they were thinking.

"The memories of the witnesses end here," she said. "Beyond this point… nothing."

Ethan frowned. "What do you mean?"

Doe crossed her arms. "I mean, no one remembers what happened next.

"The only reason we know as much as we do is because we spent years piecing together fragments from the only survivor—Old Man Carter's daughter."

Leo's eyes narrowed. "Only survivor? Everyone else… died?"

Doe nodded.

"At the time, I was still just a field agent for Ninth Division, working with Vaughn," she said. "We were given orders to investigate an abandoned village and conduct a rescue mission.

"But when we arrived, there was only one person left—Lillian Carter.

"The original village population was 126. Add in the soldiers and drill team, that's 47 more people.

Every single one of them was gone."

Silence fell over the group.

Doe continued, "We searched the ruins for three days, but there were no clues. In the end, all we found was a broken woman, half-mad from whatever she had been through.

"We brought her back to Ninth Division for treatment. Over time, in scattered, broken pieces, we managed to get this much of the story from her."

She trailed off, her expression unreadable.

No one spoke for a long time.

Finally, Ethan broke the silence. "Then… why call it the Shadow Lynx Incident?"

Doe tilted her head. "Because, during the three days Vaughn and I spent in that abandoned village, something strange happened.

Every single night, a lynx appeared."

Leo raised a brow. "A lynx?"

Doe nodded. "A dark one, like a shadow. It showed up every night, just outside our camp.

"We tried to catch it.

"Every single time we got close, it vanished.

"The next night, it reappeared.

"When we returned, we reported everything, and the higher-ups officially labeled it The Shadow Lynx Incident.

"The village itself, since it had no official name, was renamed Shadow Lynx Village.

"Even after all these years, Vaughn and I have always believed that whatever happened back then… that lynx was the key."

She turned to Ethan, her gaze sharp.

"And before you ask—no, our Soul Sense couldn't detect it."

Ethan stiffened. That was exactly what he had been about to say.

Doe smirked. "That's probably why Celeste brought you here.

"Vaughn and I aren't strong enough. My Soul Strength is 13.2, and his is only 5.1. Neither of us has reached the level where we can extend our Soul Sense outward."

She leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"But you… I heard you can use Soul Sense already.

"I'm really curious, kid. Wanna show me?"

She giggled, stretching her arms lazily. "Well, that's enough talk for one night.

"I'm old, and old people get tired easily. Time for bed."

With that, her translucent form flickered—then slowly faded away.

Leo swallowed and shrank back. "Ghosts need sleep?"

Whoosh!

A thin branch shot through the air like a bullet, stabbing deep into the rock in front of him.

Leo yelped and fell backward, his legs giving out beneath him. The brittle branch, no thicker than a pencil, had embedded itself two inches into solid stone.

Celeste chuckled. "One of these days, that mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble."

Leo stared at the branch, sweat trickling down his temple. If that had hit a person… it'd be like taking a sniper round to the chest.

Ethan was just as stunned. Soul-Wielders… could control objects like that? As he was still processing what he'd seen, a soft voice whispered in his ear.

"Telekinesis is just the basics for a Soul-Wielder, kid. Want to learn?"

Ethan stiffened. That voice, It was Doe. But she had disappeared.

His eyes darted around, scanning his surroundings.

A playful giggle echoed in his mind.

"Relax. Soul-Wielders can also use telepathy~" she teased.

"Think it over, kid. If you take me as your teacher, I'll teach you everything.

"But for now… I'm going to sleep."

Just as her voice faded, something rustled behind Celeste. The group turned just in time to see the zipper of a tent slowly closing

But no one was there.