“I haven’t seen it either. I haven’t met many humans wearing bulletproof vests either. You’re really damn delicate,” Qiu Shi said as he bent down and ran over to Xing Bi’s side, grabbing his left arm to take a look.
“I’m fine,” Xing Bi said.
The bullet had slanted through Xing Bi’s left arm without hitting any bones. Saying he was fine was just tough talk — but for a bioroid, this kind of injury was within their tolerable design limits.
“Did he really wear a bulletproof vest?” Qiu Shi took a hemostatic patch out of his waterproof pouch and pressed it onto Xing Bi’s wound, at least to speed up recovery.
“He did. You could tell when he was shot,” Xing Bi said.
“We need to change our strategy,” Deng Yeye said quietly. “We can’t wait for them to come block us.”
“Mm.” Xing Bi nodded.
“Just rush,” Deng Yeye pulled open the belt wrapped around her waist, which neatly held a row of small grenades. “As long as we’re not dead, rush forward. When we get there, blow it up.”
“You still carry these?” Qiu Shi was a bit surprised. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll weigh you down?”
“I always carry them,” Deng Yeye said. “Who knows if something unexpected will happen. I just want to die cleanly if it comes to that.”
Qiu Shi said nothing more and started taking the small grenades out from her belt one by one.
“Picking fruits? Give me two,” Bai Zhan suddenly appeared beside him, reaching out to grab two.
Xing Bi glanced at him and smiled, “Eat them to replenish.”
Bai Zhan was stunned for a moment. “I thought you’d never smile at me in this lifetime.”
“What’s that?” Qiu Shi looked at him.
“A useless guy’s casual sigh for not getting recognition,” Bai Zhan tossed the grenades in his hand and stood up, heading toward the direction Zheng Ting and the others had escaped, checking the surroundings. “No one here.”
“He just doesn’t smile in front of you,” Qiu Shi said.
“Thanks,” Bai Zhan said.
Qiu Shi barely remembered the route on the map they saw in the leisure area. He thought the drawing was a bit sloppy, not as detailed as what he saw, and there were too many twists and turns. Given his refugee school education, it was normal he couldn’t remember it.
Xing Bi and Bai Zhan definitely could remember it—and not only that, they could find the shortest route without communicating.
When leaving this open office area, Qiu Shi glanced at the plaque at the entrance. It said something like “Zone 5.”
That meant there were at least four more open office zones of this scale. Given the current situation, Qiu Shi felt these places were just like damn trenches.
Outside Zone 5 was a straight corridor—not really a corridor, more like a large open space without doors on either side. Some places held instruments; others had long tables.
Running swiftly behind Xing Bi, Qiu Shi saw meeting rooms marked A, B, C, and D, plus two restrooms. The restrooms looked ten times more luxurious than Li Feng’s office.
When this research institute was first built, it probably could support ten Yun Cities. A base, a research institute—humans had paid an enormous price for these things he could never understand. They probably never imagined that two hundred years later, their “hard work” would appear in this state before these apocalypse survivors.
They quickly passed through the corridor and entered another area resembling a reception zone. It didn’t have as many recreational facilities as the leisure area but had many small tables and sofas.
A shadow flickered again. Without thinking, Qiu Shi dove behind a sofa, pulling out a small grenade. But before he could settle into his position on the ground, gunshots rang out.
The sofa back behind which he hid was pierced. With a muffled “bang,” a blasted hole appeared right by his face, debris splattered all over him, and tiny feathers even floated past his eyes.
The sofa’s stuffing was actually some kind of feathers—no wonder it felt so soft when he sat in the leisure area earlier.
Immediately following the gunfire was a huge explosion.
The blast was so strong Qiu Shi’s eardrums hurt, and several pieces of the ceiling fell.
He quickly peeked out from behind the sofa but saw no one.
“Qiu Shi!” Xing Bi called.
“I’m fine!” Qiu Shi replied. “Where are they?”
“They ran,” Deng Yeye said. “Did you see the other person clearly?”
“It was Lin Sheng,” Bai Zhan said. “He’s the one who shot me earlier too.”
Qiu Shi was stunned for a moment—there was another Lin Sheng? 249 really didn’t make a new covert ops team, did they…
“Any injuries?” Xing Bi jumped over from the sofa, crouched in front of him, pinching his face and looking it over, then scanning down from his neck.
“No,” Qiu Shi said, “The bullet passed right next to my head. Who fired that shot?”
“Lin Sheng,” Xing Bi replied.
“Zheng Ting just shot your arm, Lin Sheng shot at Bai Zhan’s chest,” Qiu Shi frowned, “and now they’re aiming at my head…”
“That Lin Sheng is ruthless,” Deng Yeye said.
“He’s always been ruthless,” Bai Zhan said, “He’s the toughest in the team.”
Qiu Shi glanced at Xing Bi. He was momentarily stunned when Bai Zhan described Lin Sheng as “ruthless,” until he recalled the first time he saw Lin Sheng — far colder and more mechanical than Xing Bi.
These “others” had no signs of living in this harsh world, still maintaining their original base-state.
“Where’s Xing Bi?” Deng Yeye asked.
“He’s over there, all lovey-dovey,” Bai Zhan said.
“…I meant is Xing Bi ruthless or not,” Deng Yeye said.
“He’s lovey-dovey right now,” Qiu Shi said, “Not ruthless.”
“Forget I asked,” Deng Yeye said.
“There won’t be another Xing Bi,” Bai Zhan said, “I believe there are only these two — Zheng Ting and Lin Sheng.”
“And Lin Sheng was just… activated,” Xing Bi said, “Before there was only Zheng Ting.”
“Why?” Deng Yeye asked.
“Zheng Ting never went for the kill, just wanted to stop us from coming over,” Qiu Shi looked at Xing Bi, “Right? That means he might have other intentions, maybe he’s been here for quite some time.”
“Sharp observation,” Xing Bi nodded.
“Flattery,” Qiu Shi nodded back.
“Lin Sheng was probably activated after discovering we were approaching the research institute. As for Xing Bi,” Bai Zhan glanced at Xing Bi, “249 wouldn’t choose to send him out, neither then nor now. It might have been only Zheng Ting all along, and only when forced did they activate Lin Sheng, because Lin Sheng is ruthless enough.”
“Keep moving,” Xing Bi glanced at the spot where the explosion had been, then looked at Deng Yeye, “Where did you get that grenade?”
“What?” Deng Yeye asked.
“Not weak power, but…” Xing Bi said, “Not very stable, almost blew me up.”
“Having it is better than nothing,” Deng Yeye said, “Don’t be picky, just throw it fast and it’s fine.”
The open office area was better for fighting for them; although unfamiliar with the terrain, the open sightlines were disadvantageous to both sides, but at least easier to spot the enemy.
The area they had entered now was made up of partitions of glass and metal, independent yet connected. The numerous corridors between partitions looked like a maze to Qiu Shi.
Xing Bi raised his hand and tossed a grenade down a corridor.
With the explosion, the glass in nearby partitions shattered crisply. Before the shards could fall, Xing Bi charged in, Bai Zhan following behind, throwing another grenade to the right front.
Deng Yeye’s grenade was indeed unstable; Xing Bi’s detonated two seconds after being thrown, and Bai Zhan’s would have exploded on his hand if he hadn’t thrown it sooner.
“Fuck,” Bai Zhan cursed, vaulted over the metal partition, running alongside Xing Bi in two parallel corridors.
Qiu Shi raised his gun but didn’t follow closely. The bioroids moved too fast; following too close made him vulnerable.
Deng Yeye was used to jungle warfare, now crouching low in the corridor, unable to see anyone.
The two explosions worked well — Zheng Ting burst out from a corridor that had never been bombed, and they spotted him immediately.
Zheng Ting aimed for Xing Bi, jumping from the partition toward him.
But Xing Bi didn’t confront head-on, instead rolling between partitions and rushing behind Zheng Ting.
Bai Zhan leapt out from the side, crashing heavily into the left side of Zheng Ting’s body while Xing Bi swung his knife at Lin Sheng, who had just come out of another corridor.
With muffled thuds of impact, all four fell to the ground.
Qiu Shi heard metal scraping, the sound of the knife piercing Xing Bi’s suit, and chaotic footsteps in the corridor.
“Lao Deng, throw a grenade!” He threw himself down between two partitions, aiming his gun at the source of the footsteps.
Deng Yeye tossed a grenade from somewhere above, exploding in the corridor, blasting two bioroids out of the corridor amid shattered glass.
Qiu Shi didn’t move, watching behind them. When a shadow flashed on the low wall, he estimated the height and fired.
Two other bioroids were shot in the neck right after bursting out.
Qiu Shi’s gun was out of ammo, no time to reload. He threw his gun aside, drew the knife from his leg, and charged at a bioroid who had been knocked down but wasn’t dead.
These bioroids were all second-level operatives, without first-level adaptability and coordination, but still formidable.
Qiu Shi’s right hand swung the knife backward but was blocked; then a hand grabbed his neck. He ignored the hand choking him, loosened his right hand’s grip on the knife, caught the falling knife with his left hand, and stabbed fiercely into the opponent’s throat.
The choking hand lost strength, and Qiu Shi kicked hard, pushing the second-level enemy away.
Just as he was about to turn, he heard movement behind him. Turning, he saw a second-level bioroid lunging at him caught by Xing Bi grabbing its shoulder, then delivering a powerful blow to the back of the neck. The immense force shattered small fragments that pierced the throat, spraying blood on Qiu Shi’s face.
“Fu-ck,” he wiped his face.
Gunshots rang out behind him.
When he turned back, he only saw Zheng Ting kicking Bai Zhan aside and quickly disappearing into the corridor.
The shots were fired by Deng Yeye. She raised her gun, ready to chase, but Xing Bi stopped her:
“Lao Deng.”
“Almost got him!” Deng Yeye said.
“Almost got me?” Bai Zhan struggled to stand from the ground.
“Hit your arm! Almost hit your head!” Deng Yeye said.
“Injured?” Qiu Shi felt uneasy seeing Bai Zhan’s condition.
“Not serious.” Bai Zhan touched his collar, one hand covered in blood.
“Artery?” Deng Yeye was startled.
“Shoulder.” Bai Zhan pulled at his collar, looking at Xing Bi, “Bandage him.”
Xing Bi’s palm strike earlier made Qiu Shi overlook the knife piercing the suit. Now he saw Xing Bi’s chest was torn, blood seeping through.
“Let me see.” Qiu Shi felt his voice tremble.
“No vital organs hit,” Xing Bi opened his jacket, revealing a deep but not very large cut on his chest, “Just need to stop the bleeding and seal it.”
Qiu Shi’s hands trembled badly as he tried to pull medicine from the waterproof pouch but couldn’t get it out.
Bai Zhan came over, grabbed his hand, pulled out a tube of ointment, squeezed the entire tube on Xing Bi’s wound, then pressed a bandage over it.
“Your blood,” he whispered, “Has it always been this color?”
“That depends on whether the info we find later has a cure.” Xing Bi said.
“Mm.” Bai Zhan nodded.
“What about your wound…” Qiu Shi asked.
“No need,” Bai Zhan waved, turning forward, “We need to hurry, don’t give them time to recover; both of them are injured too.”
“His rib is broken,” Xing Bi said.
“Who?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Me!” Bai Zhan said somewhat annoyed, “What’s there to say? We can’t deal with it now anyway.”
“Just remember to protect yourself later,” Xing Bi said.
“Yeah.” Bai Zhan responded.
They were nearing the equipment room, which 249 would have fiercely guarded to prevent their entry.
Qiu Shi didn’t know what awaited them. Xing Bi and Bai Zhan were injured, and badly at that. The enemy, though injured too, still had an unknown number of second-level operatives…
But there was no time to think about that. No matter what was ahead, their only option was to charge through.
So talk of backup plans was useless. There simply was no second plan.
Deng Yeye was in the middle of the group. At every intersection or obstacle blocking vision ahead, she threw out a grenade in advance.
This research institute, silent and submerged in the sea for a long time, neat and cold, became unbearably noisy amid explosions — as if dragged from the past into the present.
“We’re here,” Xing Bi said quietly.
Ahead was a bright corridor, looking ordinary with no ambush spots. At the end was a closed door.
Restricted area, no entry allowed.
Deng Yeye didn’t care about anything — she swung her arm in a big arc and threw two grenades one after another.
The corridor immediately echoed with explosions; smoke and dust billowed, and the floor trembled beneath their feet.
Xing Bi and Bai Zhan took advantage of the lingering smoke and rushed into the corridor.
Qiu Shi and Deng Yeye didn’t follow right away but raised their guns to cover the rear — in this kind of passage, it would be dangerous if they got trapped from both ends.
Before Xing Bi and Bai Zhan could reach the door at the end, music suddenly started playing in the corridor.
After a few ding-dong sounds, a screen appeared on one side of the wall — it looked like a surveillance feed.
Qiu Shi took a couple of steps back slowly and glanced at the screen, realizing it was indeed a monitor, with white words in the upper right corner reading “Inspection Area.”
What made his heart tighten was that the inspection area on the screen was flooded with seawater; the camera was submerged underwater.
The seawater was murky with floating debris, but he could still clearly see people under the water — Xu Jie and Ji Sui, along with three human soldiers. Their only air source was a small ventilation hole above. If the water rose above that tiny opening… the bioroids might hold on a little longer, but the soldiers were doomed.
Qiu Shi saw blood seeping from Ji Sui’s waist as he moved.
A figure suddenly turned out from the corridor; Qiu Shi caught it in his peripheral vision and fired without even turning his head.
But before his bullets flew, the figure reached him — it was Lin Sheng.
Lin Sheng kicked the hand holding the gun, causing the bullets to hit the ceiling.
Another kick followed, hitting Deng Yeye, who flew back into the wall and collapsed onto the floor.
Xing Bi saw Lin Sheng’s shadow and turned to rush over, but it was too late. Lin Sheng punched Qiu Shi in the shoulder, knocking him down, and stepped on Qiu Shi’s chest.
The gun barrel drooped, aimed at Qiu Shi’s head.
Xing Bi halted.
Qiu Shi could feel his ribs screaming in pain, making it nearly impossible to breathe; he gritted his teeth and took shallow breaths.
Damn ruthless… That surveillance footage had distracted every one of them in that instant.
“He wants to talk to you,” Lin Sheng said.
“No,” Qiu Shi spat through clenched teeth.
Lin Sheng looked down at him.
“Get lost,” Qiu Shi mouthed, unable to speak.
Lin Sheng didn’t reply, just looked back at Xing Bi.
The equipment room door opened.
Out came a child in a wheelchair.
Qiu Shi turned his face aside, feeling a chill down his spine. It looked like a child because of the small frame — but when he looked closer, the “child” had no facial features, like a crudely made doll.
This was the physical form of 249. Qiu Shi had never expected that when 249 chose bodies mimicking different voices, this would be the style.
Behind the wheelchair was Zheng Ting, who didn’t look toward Xing Bi’s group but focused on the surveillance screen.
“Xing Bi,” 249 spoke.
The voice came from nowhere — a clear, youthful tone, hard to tell if boy or girl, but for Qiu Shi, who had rarely seen children, it was painfully pure.
“I didn’t come here to negotiate,” Xing Bi said. “No matter what it costs today, you have to die.”
“I know,” 249 said softly.
Xing Bi said nothing, glancing at Qiu Shi.
“Let me live,” 249 pleaded. “I want to live. Just here. I won’t go out again…”
249 lowered their head.
Beneath the wheelchair was a large black box lying horizontally. Qiu Shi, distracted by 249’s eerie presence earlier, only now realized this was the box from the old video — where 249’s data was stored.
“There’s no one left for me outside. I’ve given up,” 249 said. “I’m just here. Humans are still so terrifying… Please don’t kill me over and over again.”
“No one is killing you,” Xing Bi said. “You’re the one killing others repeatedly — doing the same terrible things you hate humans for. You copied Zheng Ting, copied Lin Sheng…”
“I didn’t,” 249’s voice trembled with anxious sobbing. “I didn’t. They’re the real Zheng Ting and Lin Sheng. They’re the originals…”
“Cut the crap,” Bai Zhan said.
“Zheng Ting was long ago used by you, turned into a super symbiote,” Xing Bi looked at Zheng Ting. “Wrapped in fungus, controlled by you, killing and using his own kind, dragging them into hell.”
“But,” 249 raised their head, “that one outside isn’t the real Zheng Ting. He’s here, always here.”
Zheng Ting frowned slightly.
“Do you believe that?” Bai Zhan asked Zheng Ting. “What do you remember? That day you almost killed me, then what? Where did you go? Did you come here? No! You drove away from the base.”
“I didn’t drive away,” Zheng Ting said.
“There’s no clone of me here, right?” Bai Zhan said. “So I wasn’t cloned, right? So what I remember is the truth! Isn’t it?”
“Why have you never left here,” Xing Bi said, “Because once you leave, you’ll find out you’re living in 249’s lie. He wants a world only for himself. Even that small box — you’re just puppets guarding his lie.”
“Don’t kill me,” 249 said. “If you kill me, everything here will be destroyed. This place holds everyone’s hard work, technology, medicine. You’ll be stuck forever in that terrifying world… You can drown me, flood this place — I want to live…”
“That terrifying world is at least a world where I am me,” Xing Bi said.
Zheng Ting was silent.
“Shut up,” Lin Sheng said, pressing his foot down.
Qiu Shi heard a muffled crisp sound — his strengthened but still useless ribs.
But Zheng Ting was already shaken.
Someone had to break the deadlock. Xing Bi and Bai Zhan were restrained by him, so…
Qiu Shi moved the hand that had been pressed against his leg. When Lin Sheng looked over, Qiu Shi released it — in his palm was a small grenade with the pin pulled.
“Fuck your ancestors,” Qiu Shi said.
