Chapter 19: To the Ends of the Earth, Until Death.
Xiang Nanli was dazed for a moment: “That’s it?”
Of course, the “Main Control AI of Donghuang Heavy Industries” sounded impressive, but it was far from the answer he had imagined. It was, however, much more plausible than it being Alpha.
Xiang Nanli could not hide his disappointment, and he conveyed this emotion quite clearly to the system.
The system generated a bunch of junk data and crashed for a second. It then interrogated him: “What do you mean ‘that’s it’? Isn’t that enough? Speak clearly!” It sounded exactly like an overly confident AI competing with an ex-boyfriend, discovering it couldn’t compare, and then exploding with rage.
Xiang Nanli had no choice but to comfort it: “It’s okay, baby, you’re already amazing.”
Alpha: “Heh.”
The battle outside continued. Lying under the vehicle, Xiang Nanli could see almost nothing, but judging by the sounds and the occasional flashes of electricity, it was intense. The Knight Commander raised his arm, firing the rest of the shells in his cannon. He didn’t care about wasting ammunition; the shells flew out in a veritable rain of fire.
The sheer firepower provided overwhelming suppression. Light flared on Xin Zhui’s arm, and a blue light screen materialized in front of him. The metal bullets were halted mid-air by a massive suction force.
The Knight Commander gave a contemptuous smile: “I didn’t use steel ball bullets that scatter.”
Xin Zhui’s expression changed, and he swept the ammo aside as fast as he could. The bullets detonated in mid-air with a series of bangs, the chain reaction filling the air with thick, acrid smoke. The aftermath of the battle wreaked havoc; the robots awaiting delivery were blasted into the air, the massive impact caving in their metal shells.
It had to be said, the quality of Donghuang’s robots was remarkable—none of them were actually destroyed, and they didn’t even lose limbs, though their internal hardware state was anyone’s guess. Xiang Nanli felt the blasted-off robots raining down onto the chassis of the vehicle he was hiding under with a rhythmic patter-patter.
Xiang Nanli’s pupils dilated slightly: “You know, back where I worked before, guns were legal, and there were shootings from time to time. I remember once I was giving a lecture at a university, and someone suddenly walked in with a gun. I hid under the podium just like this. Luckily, the person wasn’t anti-Chinese, just a lunatic. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to meet you.”
Alpha’s tone was calm: “Don’t worry, I will protect you.”
If Xiang Nanli died, it would be cut off from the world entirely. It didn’t know when it would wake up again; come to think of it, hadn’t it backed itself up to the cloud? Well, whatever, no time for that now.
Xiang Nanli wanted to say he wasn’t actually that scared, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to. After severe trauma, some senses can go numb. The fear hadn’t vanished; it was just hidden. Besides, the system sounded quite cool and reliable saying that—provided it could actually do it.
The Apocalypse Knights far outnumbered the investigation squad. Clad in heavy black samurai armor, they marched with uniform steps toward Xin Zhui. They moved like candle flames, flickering in and out of existence, arriving before him in the blink of an eye. The sound of blades leaving scabbards was clear and pleasant, a cold light flashing, casting an inescapable net.
Xin Zhui’s mechanical eye glowed slightly; his world turned into black and white, and the Apocalypse Knights were marked in dark red. The eye captured the trajectories of his enemies with 360-degree precision. To Xin Zhui, they appeared sluggish, riddled with openings. He gathered a halo of light in his palm; in the blink of an eye, he had traded blows several times. Wherever his hand struck, knights fell, convulsing uncontrollably.
Xiang Nanli couldn’t see the whole picture, but he tried his best to adjust his perspective. In just a few breaths, piles of Apocalypse Knights lay on the floor, twitching, their fates unknown.
Xiang Nanli gasped: “Is that speed breaking human limits?”
“Genetic modification—both sides,” the system commented. “Looks like I judged wrongly; Xin Zhui is far beyond level 35.”
Another knight in a triangular helmet fell. As luck would have it, his head faced Xiang Nanli. The black helmet featured only two LED-like crosshairs, and dark red blood flowed endlessly from the gaps in the armor like a fountain. Xiang Nanli’s heart skipped a beat, and he retreated slightly. He had no idea if he had been seen.
The knight’s hand moved; he struggled to lift a finger, seemingly wanting to report something. But the next second, a pale-white shadow flashed past.
It was the Lurker. Its teeth were sharp; it cleanly bit off the Apocalypse Knight’s neck, then spat out the debris with disgust. The knights were covered in black armor—hard to chew—and once it broke the armor and tore the skin, there was only a lump of pitch-black meat inside. It didn’t know what it was made of, but it certainly wasn’t tasty.
The Lurker killed the knight, turned its head, and flashed a blood-soaked smile in Xiang Nanli’s direction. It lacked normal features, save for a savage, twisted mouth that could split to the sides of its skull and open 270 degrees. It looked quite terrifying. Afterward, the Lurker grabbed the knight’s corpse and scurried away with a distorted gait, completely silent.
It was clearly visible, yet everyone else seemed to instinctively ignore it—except for Xiang Nanli.
Xiang Nanli was unexpectedly touched: “So I was wrong about it; it actually remembered the favor of a meal.”
The system sneered: “Maybe it meant ‘I’ll come back to kill you in a moment’.”
Xiang Nanli: “…”
Well, that was also possible.
Finding his knights outnumbered, the Knight Commander’s voice finally lost its icy tone: “Genetically modified artificial human? Very well. You are perfect for making weapons.”
Gray-black bristles pushed through the gaps in his armor. The Knight Commander let out a strange roar; he was in pain. His muscles expanded, and the purple-black veins on his skin rose, thick as water pipes. The black heavy armor stretched to accommodate his changing body.
Following his roar, the remaining knights underwent a strange change. The lesser minions mutated faster, their misshapen heads bursting through their armor to reveal furry wolf heads. Their eyes turned blood-red, devoid of emotion. They leaned forward, eyes gleaming. Their physical stats increased exponentially, reaching a terrifying level unimaginable to ordinary people.
Xin Zhui knew how to describe this: The alpha wolf and the pack under its control.
The Black Cross Inquisition’s strength had never been its firearms, but the modified knights themselves. Each Knight Commander was a walking weapon of mass destruction.
Xin Zhui looked down at his mechanical palm. The bionic skin covering it had melted slightly from the heat, revealing the silvery-white sheen beneath. Xiang Nanli had touched this hand before, even dismantled it. He knew Xin Zhui’s mechanical energy was running low.
Yet Xin Zhui felt no tension; instead, he smiled and whispered: “Why can’t I already be a weapon?”
He looked toward the Knight Commander, his deep-red pupil rings lighting up like a solar corona. Luo Xiu seemed to realize what he was about to do, shouting in shock: “Xin Zhui!” He tried to stop him, but the plea was weak and powerless. Luo Xiu knew there was no other way. He balled his fist and slammed it against the wall, hating his own incompetence.
Xin Zhui’s body expanded; the flesh forced its way through his skin, like intertwined tree roots gripping his bones. The mechanical parts fell to the ground, and countless blood-red tentacles wriggled out from the fractures. The blood-red monster breathed heavily; the sight was grotesque. It stood before Luo Xiu, its massive body like a mountain, emitting a roar of fury toward the Knight Commander.
Xin Zhui lunged; the ground trembled. The monsters tore at each other…
Xiang Nanli was uncomfortable under the vehicle, mainly because his arm was going numb. He could feel the fight right in front of him—two non-human entities grappling, flesh against flesh. Both were incredibly hard to kill. But overall, Xin Zhui had the upper hand; he had literally snapped the Knight Commander’s wolf fangs. The Knight Commander’s mouth was a mess of gore; he likely had no heart for trash talk anymore.
Xiang Nanli asked the system: “Are we going to stay under the vehicle forever?”
The system was silent for a moment: “The robots here have little energy left; at full power, they can only be used once. I don’t think it’s the best time yet.”
“Who do you think will win?”
“Currently, Xin Zhui has a higher win rate.”
“Then what is the ‘timing’ you spoke of?”
“Wait for the Apocalypse Knights and the investigation squad to exhaust each other, then use the military-industrial robots to finish off the survivor. It is the best method,” Alpha stated, devoid of emotion. It didn’t judge; it simply deduced the strategy with the highest probability of success.
Xiang Nanli rubbed his chin with his index finger: “Kill Xin Zhui, so that means killing Luo Xiu too?”
“Yes. We can frame the Inquisition for it.”
“What about Xiao Yan, Bodhi, and Rock? Do they need to be killed?”
“If we encounter them, I believe it is necessary. They have seen you.”
Xiang Nanli sighed: “Alpha, that would be a lot of people to kill. Do you know a saying in forensics? It means that a murderer trying to cover their tracks often leaves behind traces of the cleanup. There is no such thing as a perfect crime.”
Alpha analyzed his meaning: “You are too soft.”
“Sorry, I disappointed you.” Xiang Nanli’s tone was strained: “I just think slaughter isn’t the best solution. Perhaps, to me, life is still too precious. Alpha, we have other ways, right? Maybe I’ll get used to it later, but right now, give me time. I haven’t learned that lesson yet. I can’t bring myself to do it.”
He continued to negotiate: “The threat of a bullet is greatest before it’s fired. We can pretend the robots have awakened and use force to threaten them into leaving. How about that?”
Xiang Nanli wanted the mechanical body, of course, but he had to consider the consequences. If he returned to the underground, how could he explain the origin of the Oriental Qingdi? If he stayed on the surface, would this powerful weapon be as reasonable as the current system? He had no way to control Alpha. Would he have to rely on the “conscience” of an AI? Or dominate the surface with this disaster-level machine, only to invite the Human Alliance or the Inquisition? Luo Xiu wasn’t just a conglomerate heir; he was an investigator. Neither side would let him go.
The innocent are not guilty, but the possession of a treasure is a crime.
Getting the Oriental Qingdi brought more harm than good. Was he supposed to defect to the Omnic Legion with the system? He couldn’t even be sure of that Alpha’s attitude. He realized one thing clearly: A dead Xiang Nanli was the best kind of Xiang Nanli.
Alpha was silent for at least half a minute: “You will regret it. Xin Zhui said he would kill you.”
Xiang Nanli: “True. Because the cost of killing me is minimal. I’m just a ‘black citizen’ with a blank record. Nobody would care if I died, and nobody would avenge me.”
Alpha said solemnly: “There is. I will. To the ends of the earth. Until death.”
Xiang Nanli admitted he was moved. But… “How would you avenge me? With the Oriental Qingdi? We haven’t even gotten that yet. And even though you seem quite capable, you can’t move without me. You’d just have to wait for a scavenger team to recover you.”
Scavengers, also known as wilderness drifters, lived off the scraps of non-threatening ruins. They weren’t much different from wilderness hunters, though the latter were more adventurous.
Alpha hesitated, then sighed softly. It conceded to Xiang Nanli’s decision. After all, it was just an auxiliary AI. If Xiang Nanli wouldn’t cooperate, it couldn’t control his body.
The slaughter continued. The werewolves lunged at Xin Zhui, trying to tear off flesh, but could only snap off blood-red tentacles. The severed tentacles crawled on the floor, not yet dead, turning into red worms crawling toward Xin Zhui. It was repulsive.
Wolf-knight blood splattered everywhere. They crushed rows of robots; explosions, roars, and a cacophony of sounds filled the hall. The intensity of the battle was clear. The Knight Commander could no longer sustain the consumption of his body and was beaten back into human form.
Xin Zhui’s tentacles wrapped around the Knight Commander’s neck, lifting him high—
It’s over. Xin Zhui thought. His exterior was grotesque, but his mind remained clear. He knew that after this mutation, he might need more time to repair himself, more medicine to control it, and his body might suffer irreversible damage… but it didn’t matter. Luo Xiu would trust him more. Xin Zhui hoped that once Luo Xiu earned enough credit in the Investigation Squad, he would go back to Luoyang City and enter the Alliance’s political arena as his parents planned.
This was not just his parents’ expectation; it was his own. Only then would the Inquisition’s sacrifices have meaning.
Xin Zhui looked at the Knight Commander, who was so severely injured he could barely move. His lips trembled, and he whispered very faintly: “I’m sorry.” He thought he had said it, but he hadn’t spoken at all; he had only whispered it in his heart.
I am going to kill you. A stranger who shares the same faith as me. My brother.
The blood-red tentacles tightened slowly.
The Knight Commander, unaware, spat out blood, his eyes rolling back. “You… let…” he struggled, “…go.”
Bang!
A gunshot rang out from the entrance. A warning shot.
Ten more Apocalypse Knights walked in. The difference this time was that they had hostages. The tall knights marched in, pressing knives against the necks of the three remaining investigation squad members, gazing coldly at Xin Zhui.
Rock looked the worst, unconscious, covered in torn bite marks. Blood seeped out, soaking his suit; the sunglasses he always wore were gone. Xiao Yan bit her lip, nervous. Her wrist was dislocated, making her immobile. She had been pushed in. She wanted to tell them to forget them; there wasn’t a single decent person in the Inquisition—they were all antisocial terrorists. But Xiao Yan couldn’t bring herself to say such noble, high-minded words. She didn’t want to die. Bodhi was likely the same.
Being an investigator was just a job. These people struggling on the middle-class line didn’t have high ideals. They weren’t like Luo Xiu; they were investigators only for social status and a generous salary.
Xin Zhui’s tentacle-covered face showed no expression, while the Knight Commander began to cough and laugh. The Knight Commander’s voice was weak, even mocking: “Three for one. This trade… not a loss, right?”
Xin Zhui didn’t let go, but he didn’t take further action either.
Luo Xiu’s voice came from behind him: “Xin Zhui, let go.”
An expression of unwillingness crossed Xin Zhui’s emotionless face. He slowly rose, not like a person standing up, but like the tentacles dragging his body. The Inquisition people released the hostages. Xiao Yan and Bodhi helped the unconscious Rock to Xin Zhui’s side.
The Knight Commander was surrounded by knights. His armor was shattered, some pieces embedded in his flesh, causing secondary damage. A Black Knight took out a medicine vial and injected it into his arm. This medicine was tailored for genetically modified humans—they easily lost control after mutating and needed sedatives as well as nutritional supplements.
Luo Xiu took out a vial too. Xin Zhui had given it to him before the mutation. He stroked the monster’s neck, carefully injecting the blue liquid. This tenderness, however, was not enough to ward off the pain. Xin Zhui’s body twitched twice. This was a side-effect of the mutation; the repair serum had analgesic components, but due to the accelerated physiological metabolism, its efficacy was minimal. No one could escape the lingering pain after a mutation.
The scene fell into an eerie balance. No one wanted to advance, yet no one was willing to retreat. Xin Zhui maintained his bizarre appearance, but anyone could see he was exhausted.
Xiang Nanli knew it was his turn: “Alpha, Giddy-up!”
Alpha sounded reluctant: “I am not a horse.”
Despite the protest, it acted immediately. Instantly, the Terracotta-Army-like robots made a synchronized sound of activation. From robots to armored vehicles, cleanup trucks, and even drones—every surface lit up with the glow of energy cores powering on.
“Intruders detected,” they said in unison, like an invincible army, even though some were tilted from the previous battle and others failed to start. “Cleanup protocol initiated! 10, 9, 8, 7…”
The Knight Commander clutched his chest, his expression shifting in terror. He began to retreat.
Xin Zhui could no longer maintain his massive body; the blood-red tentacles shriveled. Luo Xiu, appearing unfazed, took a knife and sliced open the tentacles, digging a battered body out of the mess of flesh. Luo Xiu picked up Xin Zhui.
“6, 5, 4…”
Xin Zhui’s skin was gone; he was like a thin red stick-figure. The cost of the mutation was enormous. Even with the genetic medicine, it would take a long time to recover. Watching their reaction, Xiang Nanli let out a sigh of relief. It seemed his plan was a success.
The system’s voice suddenly turned sharp: “Xiang Nanli!” It held undisguised shock.
Xiang Nanli was confused: “…Hmm?”
The system barked: “Leave, immediately, right now!”
“—3, 2, 1!”
Cracks appeared on the floor, and the hall shook violently as if in an earthquake. A mechanical arm reached out from the central circular platform. This silvery-white arm was visibly massive. It wasn’t just metal; beneath it, one could see flesh, blood, and intertwined wires.
The arm tore open the ground, and a massive human head squeezed out from beneath. It emitted a long roar: “Hiss—”
The head had no eyes, only a split mouth filled with rows of sharp fangs, barbs growing on its long tongue. But unlike its kin, the top of the monster’s head was covered in bumps. It looked just like the Buddhist statues Donghuang Heavy Industries had carved into the stone walls earlier. Only, it was more deformed, yet it possessed a hint of creator-like divinity.
Wires connected to its body; these wires provided far more energy than they restricted, preventing it from being as withered as its companion in the glass greenhouse.
These lines had likely awakened it. Wait, wasn’t the experiment a failure? Or did the Lurker do something? Xiang Nanli remembered the corpse it had just dragged away.
It was a giant mechanical Crawler.
