As a professional in handling such matters, Crow had also experienced a period like Zhou Ming's. At that time, she was solely focused on resolving the anomalies to save those afflicted and harmed by them.
But as years passed and she experienced more and more, and her companions on adventures left one by one, her mindset gradually shifted… She became cold-blooded, indifferent, and numb.
After witnessing many inexplicable strange occurrences, she finally understood that the Hidden Ones were not saving people, but preventing deaths.
If the police shooting a robber who had kidnapped hostages was considered a rescue operation, then the Hidden Ones' work was closer to killing a murderer who hadn't yet killed anyone, a form of crime prevention, which is morally completely wrong.
For the Hidden Ones, making the anomaly disappear was more important than anything else. For this outcome, Crow was willing to make the necessary sacrifices, including an indelible sense of guilt.
After giving Zhou Ming a month to investigate, Crow contacted her liaison.
A day later, someone brought her what she wanted from outside—miniature trackers.
These specially made miniature trackers were once used in spy warfare. In the era when anomalies showed signs but had not yet erupted, various countries did not treat them as a disaster, but rather as a revolution of the times.
During that period, countries extensively captured and hunted various anomalies for research. Every country established numerous research projects, and to compete for research data related to anomalies, intense spy warfare emerged. Some miscellaneous scientific technologies also experienced explosive growth during that time.
But now, these technological products have become small tools for the Relevant Department.
"I really don't want to waste these. It will lower the rating of this mission," Crow muttered to herself.
Crow walked down the street, scattering miniature trackers at the entrance of every household.
These trackers were spherical, earthy yellow, and only the size of mouse droppings, making them almost invisible when dropped in sand.
But as soon as pressure was applied to this delicate high-tech product, its surface would crack and ooze a highly viscous liquid that would adhere to the object rolling over it, while the soft hooks under the broken shell would prevent it from sticking to the ground, instead adhering to a shoe sole or a wheel.
Each of these 'mouse droppings' had a simple structure, but their cost was not commendable; they were very expensive consumable tools.
Crow walked through the entire town, scattering several bags of satellite trackers, finally completing the overall deployment.
Finally, she returned to the hotel, opened her satellite computer, logged into the official website, and after a series of operations, pulled up the tracking map.
On the computer screen, dense red dots covered every corner of the town. A small portion of the red dots were slowly moving, while most were stationary. The moving red dots indicated that the trackers had found their targets and were closely adhering to the targets' shoe soles, tracking them, while the stationary red dots meant they had not yet functioned.
Her tracking investigation method was, without a doubt, the most direct and effective. With this method, she could pinpoint the location of almost everyone in town. As long as an anomalous phenomenon occurred again, she could detect and pinpoint it immediately.
Moreover, the missing target's route before disappearing would also be recorded on the computer. She could infer where the missing person had been and who they had contacted based on the red dots' intersection times and movement trajectories.
After a brief analysis and a few more street "interviews," a pattern could be found.
At that time, the true pattern of the anomaly would be revealed.
"I wonder how that kid is progressing?" Crow muttered to herself.
As soon as she finished speaking, three knocks sounded. Before Crow could get up to open the door, it opened by itself.
A person wearing a silver mask and a loose camouflage coat walked in, holding a strangely shaped lock-picking tool.
"Silver?" Crow turned to look at the person, puzzled. "I'm nowhere near losing control, am I?"
"If I were here to kill you, it wouldn't be me."
"Then why are you here? You're not here to see me train a new person, are you?"
Silver avoided Crow's question and retorted, "Why don't you join the Undertakers? You're too talented for this kind of mission."
"I want to live a few more years," Crow said softly, a hint of sadness in her voice.
Silver: "Not many years left. If you really want to do something, the Undertakers is your best bet. Recently, an Special A-level lost control, and no one but those half-crazed lunatics can kill him. I think if it were you, maybe you could."
The air fell silent, one side pondering, the other waiting.
This silence lasted for a long time, finally broken by Crow.
"I don't want to do this kind of thing anymore. The Undertakers are gambling; your approach is like drinking poison to quench thirst."
"There's no better way. Those who lose control cannot be left unchecked, you know that."
"But the current approach isn't right either. Until I figure out the correct way, I plan to be a normal person for a while longer."
Silver was slightly startled, then couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"Hey, you don't actually think you're still normal, do you! To say something like that… Can I assume you've gone mad?"
"..." Crow remained silent.
"Alright… If you don't want to do this job, fine. I didn't have much hope anyway. Let's talk about something else. How's that new person you're training?"
Crow shook her head gently, her long breath fogging the glass lenses on her mask.
She turned to look at her familiar old friend, letting out a very strange laugh: "What do you mean 'how'? Does the level of talent matter? Everyone else is dead. Aren't you and I, the weakest, the ones who lived to the end?"
At this moment, Crow's voice underwent a very distinct change. A rough male voice was added to her cool female voice, as if another man inside her was synchronously repeating what she had just said.
Almost the instant Crow spoke, Silver leaped back like a startled wildcat, immediately putting several meters of distance between them, retreating from up close to the doorway.
She arched her back and bent her waist, reaching behind her while a metallic scraping sound came from the box hanging at her waist. The side of the box sprang open, and an extraordinary silver short sword popped out, which she gripped in her hand.
Silver took a combat stance, exuding an extremely intense killing aura. The air in the room became as heavy as mercury, as if she would immediately strike if Crow in front of her made the slightest move.
"Hey! That's not funny!" Silver said seriously.
"Hahaha, don't be so tense, look." Crow pulled open her black cloak, showing the other person the pendant she wore beneath it—a necklace with a gray coin attached.
Seeing the necklace, Silver sighed in relief, flicked her hand, and plunged the short sword back into the box behind her, closing it.
"Was that fun?" Silver said angrily.
"Haha, very amusing, your idiotic expression made me laugh," Crow let out a hearty laugh.
"You idiot! If you don't want to join the Undertakers, don't waste such precious relic."
"Those are my things, I'll use them however I want."
"Yes, the captain gave them to you, but you don't deserve them," Silver said coldly, turning to walk towards the door. "Goodbye, and you should change your terrible personality. Even I can't stand you sometimes."
As she reached the door, Crow called out to her again from behind: "Wait, Silver."
"What?"
"Don't worry… Before I lose control, I'll kill myself, so don't worry about me."