Chapter 42: Ezekiel, the Holy Spirit, and the Mutants
Sirius panted heavily. Blood slid down his temple; it ought to taste salty.
He could barely see the path in front of him, yet he could still instinctively feel the positions of his opponents.
Only three people remained on the field. Aside from him, the other two were former boxing champions.
“Hey, how about we take out this kid first?”
Who was speaking? It didn’t matter.
The fierce wind from a heavy punch tore through the air. Sirius could only dodge one. He felt his chest cave inward, the metallic taste of rust filling his throat.
At nineteen, Sirius had been bought by the club. The city lord had said he was a failed bio-soldier, and if the club didn’t mind, they could take him away for 200,000 credits.
Lhein had certainly minded. He was a businessman, a buyer for the club. He was there to buy promising talent, not pick up a dying invalid.
At nineteen, Sirius was as thin as a bamboo pole, skin sticking to his skeletal frame without a trace of meat. His body couldn’t handle the strain of unlocking his genetic limiter, and the city lord clearly had no intention of curing him.
Lhein turned to leave, but Sirius grabbed his ankle—hard, as if his life depended on it.
Kneeling on the ground, his head pressed against the floor, Sirius said: Buy me. I won’t disappoint you.
Sirius knew all too well that if Lhein hadn’t bought him, his only end would have been death.
He would have been dumped into a vat to dissolve, turning into nutrient fluid for monsters.
The Wasteland didn’t keep useless mouths. He was just a bio-soldier; as long as people kept pumping out children, there would always be fresh disposable material.
Lhein was, after all, an undergrounder. Looking at Sirius like that, a flicker of pity stirred within him.
It turned out to be his best investment.
Sirius was his codename, his stage name; he had never revealed his original name.
And Sirius truly hadn’t disappointed Lhein. His ranking climbed higher and higher, and his fame in the underground ring surged. He brought in substantial revenue for the club every year, yet his monthly salary remained a mere 5,000 credits.
Riding on his success, Lhein was promoted from a regular employee to the general manager of the club.
Sirius had never asked for a raise. His only condition was that he didn’t want to enter the Advanced Lifeform Selection Tournament.
“It’s too dangerous. I want to live,” Sirius had said. “I can handle Gusu City, but not the Selection Tournament.”
When he wasn’t working, Sirius drank on the first floor. It was usually around three or four in the afternoon or ten in the morning, before the bar opened to the public. He would sit at the innermost spot of the bar counter and drink only the cheapest “Wolf Liquor.” He claimed its taste was the closest to what he used to drink on the surface.
The bar’s spotlights cast light over his mottled skin. Sirius only let himself get half-drunk, afraid he wouldn’t wake up if he got totally smashed. He was terrified of sleep, too.
When he was first brought to the underground, Sirius would stay on guard all night. The slightest whisper of wind would snap him awake from light slumber. It took years before he could sleep peacefully until dawn in his quarters.
Sirius didn’t date, didn’t spend money, and didn’t even have many hobbies; he was completely different from those underground fighters riddled with vices.
The trace he left on the world was so faint, it was as if he were ready to die at any moment.
Yet this time, Sirius had actually requested to enter the Selection Tournament on his own.
Lhein had asked him why. Sirius leaned against the doorframe, smoking as he looked out the window, and said, “I’m twenty-four, Lhein.”
Bio-soldiers rarely lived past twenty-five.
Lhein and the club executives were deeply moved, assuming he wanted to secure a final ranking for the club in the last moments of his life.
…Of course, that wasn’t the reason.
“Now, with five minutes left in the match, only three contestants remain on the field! As we can see, the Ape-Man and the Python have reached a consensus—they want to team up and eliminate Sirius first! This dark horse broke out of nowhere to stand here at the end. I’m sure the audience is just as surprised as I am, but it seems his luck ends here!” The announcer gave a dutiful commentary.
Outnumbered, Sirius was sandwiched between the two. Hard fists slammed into him continuously. He couldn’t move, pinned down like a punching bag. People could almost hear the sound of his bones fracturing.
Compared to the other heavily built contestants, Sirius was far too lean. He was 180 centimeters tall but weighed only 65 kilograms, with only a thin layer of muscle over his frame. Rather than a boxer, he looked far more suited to being an office clerk.
Only one of Sirius’s arms remained exposed. He gripped the arm of the opponent in front of him tightly, seemingly trying to push him away.
All it earned him was a more forceful crush. Blood and unidentifiable bits of flesh oozed from the gap between the two mountain-like bodies.
A sudden silence fell over the spectator stands. No one was cheering or shouting.
The contestants on the stage had turned into irrational monsters due to the injected drugs.
The crowd had been excited, but after the adrenaline waned, they still realized one thing: the contestants on the stage were human beings just like them. They were kin. Their own kind. It was Sirius up there now, but it could be any one of them in the audience tomorrow.
He was being brutally slaughtered by the other two.
“Sirius! Sirius!” Lhein roared from the stands, leaning forward dangerously. Held back by staff members beside him, his face was flushed red, veins bulging across his forehead. “Stop fighting! Get off the stage! Get off! We’re forfeiting! Andrew! Xiang Nanli! What are you two doing standing there?! Come help me!!”
Sirius could actually hear him. Suspended in mid-air with his vision bathed in deep red, his mind was clearer than it had ever been, his hearing sharpening dramatically.
Sirius heard Lhein’s cries, but he couldn’t forfeit.
He was already twenty-four.
[“Do you want revenge?”]
[“Pity that with your current level, you don’t even have the right to meet the city lord.”]
The fingers hooked around the Ape-Man’s arm suddenly tightened, digging violently into his flesh.
Lhein… Do you know how many dead people I’ve seen since I was little? They were my family, my playmates. One by one, right before my eyes, they turned into monsters. I’m twenty-four this year.
If he didn’t return here now, how was he supposed to seek revenge against the Eternal City—against that bodiless, monstrous entity made of systems, power, and nobility?
[“I’ll tell you a secret: the city lord is a follower of the Holy See. And right now, you have two ways to kill him.”]
[“First, kill Xiang Chenxi during the finals of the Selection Tournament. He’ll come to watch. As long as Sariel isn’t by his side, the enraged Holy See won’t let the city lord off the hook.”]
[“Second, become the winner of the Selection Tournament. That way, you might get to become the actual operator of the ‘Holy Spirit.’ Then you can rip him apart with your own hands.”]
Blood-red masses of flesh expanded, tearing open Sirius’s scar-covered skin.
“ARRRRGH—” he roared, feeling himself expand like a swelling balloon.
The men who had previously towered half a head over him now had to look up at him. The two former champions showed expressions of terror.
[“Pity you can’t achieve either. Still, I can give you a chance.”]
Coated in bright red, Sirius lunged forward. He was at least three meters tall now, almost matching the size of a small Mutant. He looked like a skinless, humanoid monster.
He snarled, biting into the Ape-Man’s face.
So hungry… Mom… I’m so hungry.
[“My poor child, you blame everything on the city lord. But the city lord was merely following orders too. He isn’t the only one at fault—it’s everyone from top to bottom.”]
[“Who am I?”]
[“Ah, good question,” Luoyang said nonchalantly while manipulating the tournament committee’s service robot, handing over the vial in his hand. “Remember, my name is the Gospel.”]
So hungry… but I can’t eat them. This is wrong.
Amid the dead silence, Sirius slowly let go.
The bloodied Ape-Man and Python were carried away by emergency medical robots, looking completely defenseless.
A few seconds later, the announcer’s dry voice rang out: “Ah… looking at the scoreboard, the final winner… turns out to be contestant Sirius! Let us congratulate him—congratulations to Sirius, and congratulations to the Fighting Club!”
Xiang Chenxi’s gentle voice drifted from up ahead: “Contestant Sirius, can you still stand? Come over to me. This is the podium.”
Xiang Nanli gripped the railing tightly. His brow furrowed slightly as the sense of unease reached a near crescendo.
Earlier, to ensure the smooth running of the finals, the committee had dispatched aircraft to disperse the cloud layer above. But now, it was snowing again.
Sirius dragged his body forward, taking step after step. He had not reverted to his human state. Like all bio-modified individuals who unlocked their genetic limiters, reverting to human form would leave him conscious but completely paralyzed.
Just a little bit more. Sirius refused to collapse at a moment like this, holding on purely through sheer willpower.
Great. Xiang Chenxi was right in front of him. Sariel wasn’t around… Though Sirius didn’t actually know who Sariel was either.
Looking at the muscular monster approaching him, Xiang Chenxi felt a flicker of hesitation. However, he sensed no killing intent coming from Sirius.
If only Sariel were here, Xiang Chenxi admitted to himself.
Still, the automated defensive mechanical equipment he wore was more than enough to riddle Sirius with holes.
Thus, a warm smile remained fixed on Xiang Chenxi’s face.
Watching Sirius approach, he raised the championship wreath—which was actually a mind-control device.
“Just one final step.”
Both Sirius and Xiang Chenxi repeated the same sentence in their minds.
In the next second, the lights across the arena went out.
The earth trembled violently—complete darkness enveloped the surroundings as loose rocks tumbled down from the cliffs. Screams erupted, and Xiang Nanli’s ears were filled with deafening chaos.
“Xiang Nanli!” Andrew grabbed his waist, yelling loudly, “Watch out! Over here!!”
His high degree of mechanical modification meant his eyes possessed infrared scanning capabilities alongside basic video capture, making them far more useful than simple night vision in a moment like this.
The ground split open to both sides. The Roman pillars of the arena tilted, and spectators on the cliffs tumbled into the deep subterranean abyss one after another.
Andrew was shouting at him, and Dongfang Qingdi was shouting at him too. Xiang Nanli could barely distinguish who was speaking amidst the universal chorus of screams and panicked cries.
“Damn it all!”
Xiang Nanli gritted his teeth. Before the walkway collapsed beneath him, he opened the briefcase at maximum speed.
In the dark, relying on memory and touch, he strapped the exoskeleton intended for his boss onto himself.
Sorry, Boss. Survival comes first.
If you’re still alive after this, I’ll definitely buy you a brand new set.
Xiang Nanli had never used an exoskeleton before, having at most tested it with sensors during maintenance.
It was an upper-body suit, and the exoskeleton activated instantly.
Xiang Nanli heard the AI’s voice inside his mind: “Exoskeleton connecting…”
“Mechanical compatibility: 100%.”
Holy shit, it works directly!
Xiang Nanli had assumed he’d need to hack the user permissions first!
As the floor beneath his feet caved in, Xiang Nanli grabbed Andrew’s mechanical hand. The spider-leg-like appendages of the exoskeleton unfolded, its metallic limbs slamming deeply into the cliff face in front of him.
From the mountain above came a roar: “SKRRR—”
From the deep underground came a roar: “ROAAAR—”
From outside the city came a roar: “SKRRR-SKRRR—”
It was Ezekiel, the Holy Spirit, and the Mutants.
