After Zhang Qifeng left, the laboratory returned to silence. The only sounds were the low humming of various pieces of equipment and the occasional hurried footsteps passing by.
Liu Wu was dead, along with the members of Team Three.
Qiu Shi still remembered the moment he informed Liu Wu that his partnership with Lin Sheng had been dissolved and that he was to return to Team Three. He remembered Liu Wu’s eyes and the silent turn of his body.
He suddenly felt a bit sad. Remembering all kinds of faces had become his habit—whether familiar or unfamiliar, liked or disliked, living or dead…
In times of chaos, many faces only flashed by briefly. Someone like Liu Wu, with whom he had interacted and shared emotions, could be considered familiar to him.
Now, Liu Wu and his teammates were dead—in a manner that had been entirely predictable.
He had known that if they set out, they would die. He had even known that no one could stop them from going.
This indescribable discomfort was different from anything he had felt before—different from the despair of facing starving refugees in the outer city, different from the brutal weather, different from the life-and-death uncertainty of the wastelands.
The deeper he sank into this new war that had already begun, the stronger this feeling became.
“Qiu Shi,” Xing Bi called out to him. “Hey, human.”
“Hmm?” Qiu Shi turned his head. “What is it, bioroid?”
“What are you thinking about?” Xing Bi asked. “I called you several times, but you didn’t hear me.”
“Did you?” Qiu Shi was momentarily stunned.
“Do not question a bioroid’s memory,” Xing Bi replied.
Qiu Shi laughed. “A human’s memory wouldn’t be so bad either.”
“I want to get out of bed and walk around,” Xing Bi said.
“You just had surgery. How long has it been?” Qiu Shi asked. “And you already want to move around?”
“Some activity will help with recovery,” Xing Bi replied.
“I need to ask Curator Wu,” Qiu Shi stood up. “You had a hole—a through-and-through hole—cut into your stomach. That’s not an ordinary wound.”
Xing Bi smiled but said nothing.
Qiu Shi walked out of the lab module. Finding no one outside, he headed toward Curator Wu’s office.
Curator Wu had just changed into casual clothes and was stepping out of his office. His originally calm expression turned wary the moment he saw Qiu Shi. “What is it?”
“When can Xing Bi get out of bed?” Qiu Shi asked.
“He can get out of bed as soon as he wants,” Curator Wu replied. “Bioroids don’t feel pain. As long as their biological functions are back to normal, they can move as soon as necessary. They were originally designed to have stronger bodies than humans and to recover from injuries in a shorter time—or even instantly.”
Qiu Shi couldn’t help but frown. “Won’t the wound tear open?”
“No,” Curator Wu said. “The repair materials and adhesives used are different from those for humans. Their body composition is also far stronger.”
“Got it,” Qiu Shi said.
“You don’t have to stay here,” Curator Wu added.
Qiu Shi looked at him.
“Deputy Director Li means that as long as you don’t leave the inner city, you’re free to walk around and explore,” Curator Wu said. “You can use the emergency dormitories of the Security Bureau. He left a keycard for you.”
“Oh.” Qiu Shi could sense that Curator Wu was quite eager for the two of them to leave the lab.
“Go ahead,” Curator Wu turned his head and called toward the room next to his office. “Xiao Chen, bring the keycard Deputy Director Li left for Qiu Shi.”
“One moment,” a voice answered from inside.
“What about the bioroids we brought? Sang Fan and Xiao Zuo, Xiao You?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Xiao Zuo, Xiao You?” Curator Wu hesitated for a moment. “You mean those two second-tier bioroids? Sang Fan finished repairs and is undergoing training. She’s a newly activated Bioroid, so she still has things to learn. As for… Xiao… Zuo… You, they’ve returned to the module.”
“They don’t need training?” Qiu Shi asked again.
Curator Wu clearly didn’t want to chat further, but when it came to his professional field, he seemed unable to resist answering. “Second-tier bioroids don’t have self-awareness. They’re more like the robots you’re used to—only receiving and executing commands.”
“Mm.” Qiu Shi responded.
Xiao Chen soon brought over the keycard left by Li Feng. Curator Wu took it and handed it to Qiu Shi. “I’ll mark the dormitory address on your map.”
“Thanks.” Qiu Shi nodded.
The lab had prepared clothes for the two of them. After changing, Qiu Shi felt a bit uncomfortable—perhaps because the clothes were too new, giving him a stiff, restrained feeling.
Xing Bi looked far more at ease in his outfit. After all, he had even worn suits in the past. In this world now, finding a suit probably meant searching through the ruins of some long-abandoned human city.
“Let’s go,” Xing Bi said.
Qiu Shi picked up his scarf and noticed that while it was the same color, this one was new. The original had been stained with dirt and blood—Li Feng had likely ordered someone to bring him a fresh one.
He wrapped the scarf around his neck and glanced at Xing Bi. “Does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t have to,” Xing Bi replied.
“Take it slow anyway,” Qiu Shi frowned. “Curator Wu made it sound like you could go straight into a fight without any problem.”
“That’s entirely possible,” Xing Bi said.
Qiu Shi clicked his tongue.
Curator Wu marked the dormitory’s location on the map—a mining cave on the third level of a hill near the Security Bureau. It seemed to be a place with windows.
Since many of the inner city’s buildings were constructed into the mountains, either above or below tunnels, not all of them had windows. Only those with a certain status in the inner city could live in places with windows.
The Security Bureau, which managed the production and supply of essential goods in the inner city, appeared much more low-key than corporate management or the City Defense Bureau responsible for security. However, in reality, it held significant hidden power.
Deputy Director Li Feng had more real authority than many department heads.
“Are we heading straight there, or should we take a look around first?” Qiu Shi asked Xing Bi.
“Let’s take a look around,” Xing Bi replied. “Have you ever explored the inner city?”
“I haven’t even wandered the outer city much. Normally, I just go from the tavern to the refugee market,” Qiu Shi said. “Even after coming to the inner city, I don’t have clearance to roam freely—just fixed routes from the checkpoint to the Security Bureau warehouse.”
“I’ll show you around,” Xing Bi said.
“You know this place well, huh?” Qiu Shi glanced at him.
“Mm.” Xing Bi smiled. “Come on, I’ll give you a one-day tour of Yun City.”
“Alright,” Qiu Shi nodded.
Their first stop was the Exhibition Hall.
“Could we have picked a more convenient place?” Qiu Shi muttered, glancing back at the lab they had just walked out of.
“This is Yun City’s historical archive,” Xing Bi introduced solemnly. “Inside, there are pictures and videos documenting major events from the city’s founding to… the present.”
“Is that so?” Qiu Shi remarked.
“Humans only,” Xing Bi added.
“Well, this site’s boring,” Qiu Shi said. “Next one.”
“Please follow your tour guide,” Xing Bi raised his arm and started walking ahead. “Now, we’re heading to Yun City’s latest—”
“F*ck,” Qiu Shi quickly caught up and pushed his arm down. “What the hell are you doing?”
A few passersby had already turned to look in their direction.
Luckily, both of them had scarves covering their faces.
“Tour guides do this,” Xing Bi explained.
“What tour guides?” Qiu Shi asked.
“The ones who lead people around on sightseeing tours,” Xing Bi said. “When you took me to Dushi, you were a tour guide too.”
“The old relics sure had a colorful life,” Qiu Shi commented. “A lot of job variety.”
“Mm,” Xing Bi nodded. “But not long after I was manufactured, things started falling apart. Cities lost contact with each other.”
Qiu Shi didn’t say anything, walking forward slowly with Xing Bi.
The inner city had a lower population density than the outer city, but there were still plenty of people. However, because living spaces were more abundant, it wasn’t as chaotic as the outer city.
Most roads were narrow, flanked by mountain walls. Looking up, one could see various signboards and illuminated billboards stretching all the way to the mountain’s peak. At ground level, the city might feel a bit desolate, but looking up revealed a stark contrast—a vibrant, bustling city carved into the mountains and caves, distinctly different from the outer city.
“Up ahead is Valley Plaza,” Xing Bi said. “The hospital used to be here, and so was the biggest shopping mall.”
“They’re still here,” Qiu Shi said. “Is this our next stop?”
“Our next stop is indeed in Valley Plaza, but it’s more interesting from a distance,” Xing Bi said, leading him up a side path along the mountain. “Tourists, please follow me.”
“Did the old relic tour guides talk this much?” Qiu Shi asked.
“This is called a tour script,” Xing Bi said. “You apocalypse folks wouldn’t understand.”
“F*ck.” Qiu Shi was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing. “What the hell were you learning back then? I’d love to meet your teacher—”
The moment he said it, his chest tightened with unease, and he quickly shut his mouth. But he couldn’t take back what had already been said.
Xing Bi didn’t seem too affected by the mention of a teacher. He just paused briefly before saying softly, “I’d like to as well.”
Qiu Shi remained silent.
“It’s fine,” Xing Bi said. “Remembering suddenly can hurt, but if you keep remembering, it won’t be as painful.”
“Mm,” Qiu Shi murmured.
They followed the zigzagging path up the mountainside for a while until they reached a vantage point directly facing Valley Plaza.
“Look,” Xing Bi pointed to the opposite side. “That’s Yun City’s newest Hero Monument.”
“What the—” Qiu Shi turned his head.
As he made out the enormous electronic billboard, he heard a familiar phrase.
“For Yun City!”
“F*ck your ancestors.” He stared at the billboard in shock.
It was a short clip recorded before their departure—one that Minister Liu had arranged to be filmed. In the video, Qiu Shi stood stiffly in front of a vehicle, looking expressionless, while the members of Team Two stood beside him, raising their guns and shouting.
“For Yun City!”
Because the clip was so short, it played on a loop.
“For Yun City!”
After repeating seven or eight times, the screen switched to a scene of Yun City’s troops standing in formation. An impassioned voice declared, “Salute to the heroes defending Yun City!”
“F*ck.” Qiu Shi was at a loss for words.
“When the truck passed by yesterday, I heard it,” Xing Bi said.
“Your hearing’s pretty sharp,” Qiu Shi remarked.
“Far beyond what you could achieve, even enhanced,” Xing Bi replied.
Qiu Shi glanced at him.
Xing Bi grinned back. “How do you like this sightseeing spot?”
“Who the hell put this up?” Qiu Shi turned back to stare at the billboard. Though he could see that most people passing through the plaza barely paid attention to it—probably because it had been up for a while—he still felt a deep sense of embarrassment. “I thought it was just a recording for the archives, in case we died…”
“Yun City needs heroes,” Xing Bi said. “They’ve lived in peace for too long. These people have never left the inner city. They know the outside is dangerous, but they don’t know how dangerous. When a crisis comes, their panic could be just as much of a threat to Yun City as the dangers outside.”
“So they need to be told that heroes are protecting them,” Qiu Shi sighed. “Like soothing children.”
“Even Colonel Xu doesn’t fully understand the situation outside,” Xing Bi said. “Let alone these people. They will believe it—because they are afraid.”
“Colonel Xu…” Qiu Shi trailed off, not finishing his sentence.
“They’d be afraid too, wouldn’t they?” Xing Bi said. “Not everyone can accept reality once they see what it’s really like outside. Humanity is the strongest, humanity must be the strongest, humanity must be able to overcome those dangers—if they don’t believe this, they’ll have to face the reality that humanity could be wiped out.”
Qiu Shi suddenly felt a heavy weight settle on him. He had lived outside the city for so many years, but he had never thought about things this much.
The days spent in the bunker with his brothers had been tough, but at least he didn’t have to think about life and death.
Now, looking back, that life was still fresh in his mind, but he could never return to it.
Yun City was working hard to manufacture its heroes. Besides the billboards everywhere, there were also numerous holographic propaganda posters lined up in the air. Luckily, they were silent—otherwise, the effect on Qiu Shi would have been just as unbearable as those infected shouting at Xing Bi in unison.
He and Xing Bi stood at the bus stop. Qiu Shi had never taken public transportation before, but the keycard Li Feng had given him could be used for the buses, so Xing Bi planned to take him for a ride.
“The old relics’ public transport must’ve been similar to this, right?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Yeah, but they carried way more passengers,” Xing Bi replied.
“Kind of funny,” Qiu Shi said. “The inner city has fewer people, while the outer city has more, but it’s chaotic. That kind of real prosperity—humanity will never have it again, will we?”
“Survival itself is prosperity,” Xing Bi said.
“F*ck,” Qiu Shi shot him a look.
“Get on,” Xing Bi gestured toward the approaching bus.
Qiu Shi was just about to step forward when he caught sight of a massive image on the bus’s exterior—himself and his team, raising their guns.
The driver, dressed in a Security Bureau uniform, sat behind the wheel. On the front panel of the bus was a photo of Qiu Shi’s cold, expressionless face.
“…I’m not getting on,” Qiu Shi said. “I can’t take this.”
Xing Bi chuckled. “Be brave, hero.”
The bus doors opened, and a few people got off. The first few just walked away, but the last to disembark—a man in his thirties—was carrying a cloth bag. And on that bag was yet another image of Qiu Shi’s face.
Before Qiu Shi could turn and walk away, the man suddenly pointed at him. “Captain Qiu!”
Qiu Shi froze, instinctively pulling his scarf higher up his nose.
“It’s you, right?! Hero Squad Two! Hero Captain Qiu Shi!” The man’s voice was loud.
The people who had just gotten off the bus turned back to look.
“I… am not,” Qiu Shi took two steps back. He didn’t even check if Xing Bi was following—he just turned and left.
“It’s Captain Qiu!” Someone shouted behind him.
“It’s really him! The captain is back!”
“For Yun City!”
“For Yun City!”
“For Yun City!” Xing Bi joined in, even raising his arm.
“Xing Bi, F*ck your ancestors, shut the hell up!” Qiu Shi shot him a shocked look.
Xing Bi’s lips curled slightly.
“No more sightseeing,” Qiu Shi muttered as he jogged forward, pulling up his map to check the route. “We’re taking a shortcut to the Security Bureau dorms.”
“Embarrassed?” Xing Bi followed behind him.
“I don’t know,” Qiu Shi said. “I just don’t feel comfortable.”
It wasn’t about people recognizing him. It wasn’t about being surrounded by onlookers. After all, when corpse collectors moved through the outer city, everyone knew them, and people stared at them all the time. Some even cursed at them if they weren’t afraid of dying.
What unsettled him was that all these people were calling him a hero.
Placing expectations on him that he had never even considered.
The hero who would save Yun City.
This was Li Feng’s plan. Qiu Shi was sure he had done this to protect both him and Xing Bi by making them indispensable.
But he had no doubt that Li Feng had deeper schemes at play. Li Feng had placed him on a pedestal. Now, he had to do something for Yun City, for these people.
Damn bureaucrat.
Always the same insidious, scheming bureaucrat.
The Security Bureau’s dormitory was undoubtedly one of the most comfortable residences in the area. All the rooms were on the outer side of the mountain, with carved-out windows and balconies. The unit they had been given was on the top floor, offering a view of the distant forest.
Qiu Shi stood on the balcony. “This is even higher than the peak I always go to outside the city.”
“Feeling better?” Xing Bi stood beside him.
“Better, my ass,” Qiu Shi said. “I wasn’t panicked in the first place. Just came back to the dorm to rest, like normal.”
“You ran the whole way here and completely forgot about my injury,” Xing Bi pointed out.
“Shit, I really did…” Qiu Shi froze, suddenly panicking. He clumsily lifted Xing Bi’s shirt. “Let me check—damn it, you don’t even act like an injured person. It’s not just that I forgot just now, I’ve forgotten the whole time—”
Halfway through lifting the shirt, a gust of wind blew past. Qiu Shi quickly shoved Xing Bi back inside. “Get inside, it’s too windy.”
“I’m fine,” Xing Bi said. “I was messing with you.”
Qiu Shi didn’t respond. He insisted on pulling up Xing Bi’s shirt again, peeling back the bandages slightly. When he saw the neat, circular rows of small metal staples along the smooth, tightly sealed wound on Xing Bi’s left abdomen, he finally let out a breath.
“Really is…” He adjusted the bandages, then reached behind Xing Bi to check the back side of the wound. “Bioroids’ recovery speed.”
“Mm.” Xing Bi watched him.
Qiu Shi didn’t say anything. He withdrew his hand from Xing Bi’s lower back but didn’t move it completely away. It hovered at Xing Bi’s waist.
Lean, firm muscle.
Qiu Shi squeezed it slightly.
Xing Bi didn’t move. The corners of his mouth barely curved upward.
The suspension bridge effect.
Qiu Shi was starting to understand what that felt like.
They had just survived a harrowing battle—one that had nearly wiped them all out. It was just one of many they would have to face in the future. They had no other choice.
On the surface, they seemed to be leisurely strolling through the peaceful inner city, surrounded by vibrant lights. They could laugh, joke, and pretend.
But Li Feng’s words—”Don’t leave the inner city”—were a clear reminder. This was all temporary.
At any moment, Li Feng could walk through that door and order them to kill Mr. Long.
Chaos, fear, death, despair—through every pulse-pounding moment, this person was always by his side.
“This isn’t a suspension bridge,” Qiu Shi looked at Xing Bi. “This is a damn broken bridge—we’ve already fallen into the water.”
Xing Bi didn’t say anything. He suddenly leaned in slowly, his lips brushing lightly against the corner of Qiu Shi’s mouth.
Just as he was about to pull away, Qiu Shi grabbed him by the collar, yanked him back, and kissed him hard.
Xing Bi met him head-on, his hand cradling the back of Qiu Shi’s neck.
Neither of them let go, gripping onto each other as if preventing the other from escaping.
Qiu Shi felt weightless, an indescribable sensation overtaking him.
If he had to compare it to something, the only thing that came to mind was that moment just before passing out—on the brink of death.
Weightless, disoriented, spinning, flying.
Time blurred.
One second, two seconds. Or maybe a minute, two minutes.
Or perhaps a long time—since the past, into the future.
The door clicked open.
Someone strode into the room.
Qiu Shi and Xing Bi pulled apart instantly, their guns already drawn, both aiming at the intruder.
“I’ll come back in one minute,” Li Feng said, then stepped out and shut the door behind him.
“I…” Qiu Shi held up his gun. “F*ck…”
Xing Bi didn’t say anything, just smiled.
Qiu Shi put his gun away.
Like hell it was just one minute. Even knowing that Li Feng was standing right outside, there was no way the moment could pick up where it had left off.
But Qiu Shi didn’t move, and Xing Bi didn’t speak. They both leaned against the window, watching the door.
Exactly one minute later, Li Feng re-entered the room.
“Precise,” Xing Bi noted.
“You had a timer running?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Let’s go,” Li Feng jerked his head toward the door. “The car’s waiting below.”
“Where to?” Qiu Shi asked.
“The Eighteenth Level of Hell,” Li Feng said. “Xing Bi needs to help me pick some people.”
“What kind of people?” Xing Bi asked.
“People you think are reliable,” Li Feng answered.
This must have been the “assistance” Li Feng had mentioned earlier. Normally, Li Feng wouldn’t use his own vehicle for something like this, but today, the car waiting for them was unmistakably his—a Security Bureau director’s official car that everyone would recognize.
No one else was inside. Li Feng drove them directly to the Exhibition Hall.
They hadn’t even stayed in the dormitory for half an hour before being dragged back to their first stop of the day.
In the underground parking lot, two other vehicles were already waiting—both black. One had the Yun City Mining Corporation’s logo, clearly a company car. The other two were large military vehicles.
As soon as they got out, the people in those vehicles stepped out as well.
From the company car emerged Minister Liu. The people stepping out of the military vehicles were unfamiliar to Qiu Shi, but alongside them were a dozen fully armed soldiers.
No one spoke. They all entered the Exhibition Hall together, taking the freight transport tunnel down into the laboratory.
Curator Wu and several lab assistants stood in the center of the room, flanked by two soldiers.
“Let’s go, Lao Wu,” Li Feng said.
Curator Wu let out a soft sigh and turned to lead them inside.
Another transport capsule—descending even deeper.
No one spoke inside the capsule. It was so silent that even breathing sounds disappeared, leaving only the faint mechanical hum outside.
When the doors opened, they stepped into a vast underground chamber. In front of them were two massive metal doors.
The soldiers remained outside while the others followed Curator Wu through the doors.
It was a warehouse.
Rows upon rows of shelves.
Glass pods, each containing a motionless figure.
Robotic arms busily adjusted the pods’ positions, working tirelessly in the dimly lit space.
Inside each pod, a Bioroid lay in deep slumber.
“Welcome to Bioroid Hell,” Li Feng said.
Thank you for the chapter!