My Talent’s Name Is Generator - Chapter 961 Level 50 Commander

I hit the ground on the other side and rolled through the momentum, coming up low and ready, my grip tightening as I took in the space around me.

I could hear voices and shouts. There were lot of humans rushing toward the breach. I recognised this were the same alien humans who I had fought in the previous safe zone, their white robes and sword emblem gave them away.

I didn’t wait for them to surround me.

The puppets were already pushing through behind me, drawing attention, engaging the guards above and those arriving from within, but I didn’t stay to control them further. They had served their purpose.

I turned and ran into one of the streets.

The layout opened in front of me, houses lining both sides, narrow paths branching off in different directions, and I chose one without slowing, my pace fast as I moved deeper into the city. Behind me, the sound of pursuit followed quickly, footsteps and voices closing in as they tracked the direction I had taken.

I cut left. Then right.

Adjusted again. Let them follow. Then broke away.

A final turn took me out of their direct line, and I slipped toward one of the nearby houses, pushing the door open just enough to slide inside before closing it quietly behind me. The interior was dim, empty, the air still, and I moved further in, staying low, my breathing shallow as the noise outside passed by.

Footsteps rushed past and soon the voices faded.

I looked around in the house. It was old, its structure entirely wooden, the planks beneath my feet worn smooth with age and use, the faint scent of dry timber lingering in the air as I moved deeper inside.

The furniture was simple and functional—a low table pushed to one side, a few chairs that had seen better days, shelves fixed against the wall holding scattered items that had long since lost any sense of order. Nothing about the place felt abandoned, just hurriedly left behind.

I moved quietly, placing each step with care as I made my way toward the narrow staircase at the back. The wood creaked slightly under my weight, but not enough to carry beyond the walls, and I climbed to the first floor without rushing, my grip steady on the axe as I reached the upper level.

A small window overlooked the street.

I stepped toward it slowly and leaned just enough to see outside without exposing myself fully.

The city was already in motion.

Believers moved through the streets in groups, their white robes easy to pick out even from a distance as they spread out, checking houses one by one. Some stopped at doors, others moved ahead, calling out to each other as they swept through the area, tightening their search pattern with every passing moment.

“They’re not wasting time…” I murmured quietly, pulling back from the window.

Staying here for too long wasn’t an option.

I turned and headed back down the stairs, returning to the ground floor and positioning myself near the door. I stood to the side, close enough to react but far enough to remain hidden from immediate view, my focus fixed on the faint sounds coming from outside.

Soon I heard approaching footsteps but it was just a single set of steps. A lone believer.

I waited.

The moment the shadow passed by the gap in the door, I moved.

The door opened just enough for me to slip through, my hand already reaching out as I stepped behind him. He barely had time to react before I closed the distance, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other struck cleanly at the side of his neck.

The impact landed precisely. His body went limp instantly.

I caught him before he hit the ground, dragging him back inside and closing the door behind us without a sound. His weight shifted as I pulled him further in, then lifted just enough to carry him toward the staircase again, moving quickly but carefully as I took him up to the first floor.

I laid him down near the wall and looked around briefly.

I needed some ropes or cloth. I could not find the ropes but clothes were enough. I grabbed a strip from one of the coverings nearby and bound his hands first, tightening it firmly before moving to his legs, securing them just as tightly. Another piece went across his mouth, pulled and tied in place to keep him from making noise the moment he woke.

Once done, I stepped back slightly, studying him for a second.

[Believer Human – Level 22]

“Wake up…” I said quietly, then crouched down and slapped him across the face once.

His head jerked slightly but he did not wake up.

Then I hit him again. The second hit landed harder.

This time there was reaction. His eyes snapped fully open, confusion flashing for a brief moment before awareness followed, his body tensing instinctively against the bindings as he tried to move and failed.

I didn’t give him time to struggle. I crouched in front of him, reached down, and took hold of two of his fingers, pressing them lightly between my grip, not enough to break, but enough for him to understand exactly how little effort it would take.

“I want to know everything about this place,” I said, my voice calm. “How many of your people are here, what their levels are, who’s in charge… everything.”

I tightened my grip just a fraction, enough for him to feel it.

“If you don’t answer,” I continued, meeting his eyes directly, “there will be pain.”

His reaction was immediate. He began nodding, fast, almost frantic, his eyes wide as he tried to speak through the cloth.

I paused for a moment, looking at him with a hint of surprise.

“You want to answer?” I asked.

He nodded again, even faster this time.

I shrugged slightly and reached forward, pulling the cloth free from his mouth.

The moment it came off, he spoke.

“No need to hurt me, I’ll answer everything,” he said quickly, his words tumbling out without pause. “There are fifty of us in this city. It’s not an important location, so only a small group was assigned here.”

I watched him closely.

“Levels range from fifteen to fifty,” he continued, swallowing slightly before going on. “Most are mid-range, but the stronger ones stay closer to the center.”

“Who’s in charge?” I asked.

“Our commander…” he said, his voice tightening slightly, “his name is Dent.”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second.

Then finished.

“Level fifty.”