EDEH Chapter 38

Sang Jue was somewhat puzzled: “The ‘them’ in the notebook refers to those humanoid creatures?”

 

Huo Yanji hummed: “That’s how it appears for now.”

 

Sang Jue made a sound: “When Ivan died, his mental state seemed a bit off.”

 

This was normal. Anyone who had experienced the meteor season couldn’t possibly have good mental health. The underground city had once sent a suicide squad back to the surface during the meteor season to record the devastation above.

 

As Ivan had seen, the outside world was filled with thick fog, pitch black with outstretched hands invisible. You couldn’t see the surroundings clearly, but you could hear wails everywhere.

 

As you walked, people might suddenly appear, startling you—some covered in pustules, others with growths all over. They used their blister-filled mouths to make pleading sounds, not saying “save me,” but “kill me.”

 

Please, kill me.

 

They even grabbed your gun barrel with their festering hands, shoving it into their own mouths, begging with earnest eyes for you to pull the trigger.

 

Let me escape from this endless suffering!

 

Please.

 

The most terrifying thing wasn’t death, but eternal life in painful torment.

 

Perhaps because of this, Ivan had deified what ‘they’ did as salvation.

 

Twenty years after the meteor season ended, when humans returned to the surface, they indeed found that most people had vanished. Even if they’d all died, there should at least be corpses.

 

Those who had seen the footage recorded by the suicide squad had prepared themselves for gruesome scenes, but found the surface very clean, with few human remains. Instead, the contaminated creatures affected by radiation had become more numerous and stronger, occupying every piece of land, while they could only glimpse the former glorious civilization from ruins.

 

From that perspective, ‘they’ had indeed saved hundreds of millions of victims whose lives were worse than death.

 

Sang Jue had good memory. Recalling the text he’d just read, he found a problem: “The ‘them’ Ivan saw didn’t seem to have the habit of digesting corpses.”

 

Huo Yanji said casually: “Maybe they’re also ‘evolving.'”

 

The victims of the meteor season wouldn’t resist them, even welcomed their infection, but the survivors who returned to the surface from the underground city twenty years later would only see them as monsters, so they needed disguise and deception to gain more companions.

 

From this perspective, they weren’t so pure after all—they were somewhat cunning.

 

“Why are they so obsessed with the collective?” Sang Jue swished his tail. “And why are they only interested in humans?”

 

Sang Jue remembered Wu Ke, who had been eaten earlier.

 

That humanoid creature had been brought to the laboratory and kept calling Hill’s name with longing.

 

Could ‘they’ really have inherited part of human will? Or was it that humans had become them, losing humanity while their obsessions from life remained, deeply rooted and manipulating their behavior?

 

As Ivan had said, his 26 colleagues were all great researchers in history who had spent their lives pursuing the source, with the purpose of redeeming the billions of compatriots behind them.

 

In the early collapse period, the Court had deeply instilled the concept of collective unity. Everyone felt equal to each other, believing that everyone needed to work together to restore dawn.

 

They became ‘them’ with such expectations, their behavior singular and pure—wanting more companions, bringing them back to the nest, merging into one.

 

Sang Jue flicked his tail tip: “I don’t like them.”

 

Huo Yanji asked: “Why?”

 

Sang Jue said seriously: “What they do is without others’ consent. That’s not good.”

 

If one day he had to return to his home planet, he would definitely ask for Huo Yanji’s consent before eating him.

 

A faint smile flickered in Huo Yanji’s eyes.

 

Though it was a heavy topic, Sang Jue always managed to make it seem ordinary—he had a magical ability to calm people.

 

Perhaps the essence of Sang Jue’s character was calmness; no earth-shaking event could shock him.

 

Like Huo Yanji, Sang Jue wasn’t affected by the madness between the lines of the notebook.

 

Rather than other fragmented information that couldn’t be determined, Sang Jue was more curious about something else: “What body part is ‘the member’?”

 

Huo Yanji was used to Sang Jue’s ‘ignorance’ and asked flatly: “Your guardian didn’t give you physiology lessons?”

 

Sang Jue blinked: “No.”

 

But he understood the principles, just that this planet’s physiological knowledge was a bit beyond scope. For example, why could males be together? What parts did they use to mate? Or did they just kiss and hug without doing anything else?

 

Huo Yanji pinched Sang Jue’s chin, his fingertip gently brushing over his lips: “Do you know what this action represents?”

 

Sang Jue obediently let him hold his chin, tilting his head slightly: “Does it mean you want to hit me?”

 

Huo Yanji said: “This level represents flirting.”

 

Sang Jue widened his eyes: “Why do you want to flirt with me?”

 

“…I’m demonstrating.” Huo Yanji said, “The fingertip is a very special location—exposed yet private, the most sensitive part of human touch. When it touches anywhere on your body, it means this person is feeling you, flirting with you with different intentions. Understand?”

 

Sang Jue blinked.

 

“Someone who wants to fight would only throw a punch, not touch you with their fingertip.”

 

Huo Yanji said flatly: “The place that should never be touched by others is the ‘member’—it’s your most private part as a male. Except for your partner, no one should see it or touch it. Even if someone just touches your lips, you should refuse or stop them. Otherwise, you’ll only encourage others to bully you more excessively.”

 

Sang Jue thought privately that Huo Yanji had seen every part of his body.

 

Last time when he got drunk from bathing, it was Huo Yanji who carried him back to bed.

 

Huo Yanji glanced at him and asked: “Remember?”

 

Sang Jue nodded obediently: “I remember.”

 

The soldier’s appearance ended this physiology lesson. They looked tense: “General! Those things are back.”

 

Having experienced what just happened, they could no longer treat those things as humanoid ‘creatures’—now they truly felt like they were facing demons.

 

From a scientific perspective, this was a group of non-organic life forms, humanoid in shape, purposeful in behavior, immortal substances much more powerful than humans.

 

Their existence had already exceeded human understanding of life.

 

Sang Jue put down the notebook and immediately jumped off the bed: “I can drive them away.”

 

The word ‘drive’ was very subtle.

 

Huo Yanji only had time to grab his tail: “Sang Jue—”

 

“Don’t be afraid, Ji Ji.” Sang Jue said seriously, “I can protect you.”

 

“…”

 

The flexible tail slipped from his palm.

 

For Sang Jue, the current Huo Yanji was really too fragile—if not protected well, he would truly die.

 

Even the strongest humans were still bound by their physical bodies.

 

Outside the base remained dim, with the faceless liquid creatures standing there, stopping in their tracks due to Sang Jue’s sudden appearance.

 

Sang Jue looked at them, thinking—if his friends became ‘them,’ they wouldn’t die.

 

But after becoming ‘them,’ would old Karl still be able to teach him to play games? Would Huo Yanji still be able to touch his tail and prepare delicious sandwiches for him? Would the doctor still tell him stories?

 

It seemed none of that would be possible.

 

‘They’ had no emotions, were very boring, and wouldn’t be good to him.

 

For the first time, Sang Jue realized that although humans were fragile, they were a special and unique form of life that couldn’t be replaced.

 

“Can you change your nest?” Sang Jue asked diplomatically, “My friends need to rest here, and they don’t like you.”

 

The humanoid creatures ‘stared’ at him, their entire liquid bodies rippling backward, as if they would flee the moment he took a step forward.

 

“Why are you afraid of me? I won’t eat you.” Sang Jue was troubled—he was just a harmless little evil dragon.

 

…

 

Huo Yanji wasn’t worried about Sang Jue getting into trouble.

 

The scene on the stone cliff earlier had once again proven that humanoid creatures had no interest in individual humans. As Ivan’s diary had said, they were only obsessed with the ‘collective.’

 

He picked up the notebook Sang Jue had left behind and stared at the last line Ivan had written.

 

‘Those not of my race are all monsters.’

 

Huo Yanji let out a faint, mocking laugh. The soldier standing guard beside him looked straight ahead as if he hadn’t heard anything.

 

Just as he was about to close the notebook, he inadvertently glimpsed some scattered writing at the back.

 

He turned to the last page and saw a familiar signature—

 

Huo Feng.

 

[Luce, Ivan, these hundreds of researchers sent to study various rifts were ultimately erased from history, only briefly recorded in classified files.

 

We are all pawns, only for dawn.

 

No descendants remember them. Perhaps one day, my name will also disappear in the river of history.

 

As it should be.

 

Who made me join those people in telling a monstrous lie to all humanity.

 

I am a despicable ‘deity,’ deceiving believers into sacrificing their flesh and souls.

 

Perhaps thirty years ago, after experiencing everything underground, the me who still crawled out of the rift was not me.

 

Did a monster wear my human skin to come to the world, or did I become a follower of monsters?

 

I don’t know. I often can’t recognize myself.

 

I have ‘killed’ as many humans as monsters.

 

Is all this really right?

 

Was this a decision made by my own will? Am I saving everything, or destroying everything? Will what we welcome be dawn, or eternal night?

 

My followers will never know that their ‘deity’ is so confused, fearful, like a madman.

 

I often suspect that all this is just my own mad fantasy. Perhaps I’ve been there all along, never escaping.

 

…

 

The ‘deity’s’ end is near, but he cannot fall before his followers, as this would cause faith to collapse. They must use the residual warmth of ‘divinity’ to continue sacrificing new followers.

 

I will completely lose my footing and become a new monster.

 

So I returned… back to where the nightmare began, to see with my eyes and hear with my ears what is real and what is illusion.

 

I must see Him once more.

 

May He grant me rest.

 

—Huo Feng]

 

This was the last text Huo Feng had left when he disappeared sixty years ago.

 

Huo Yanji’s gaze lingered on the line ‘We are all pawns, only for dawn’ for a long time before closing the notebook and looking at the flint that had been smashed to clean wounds.

 

He held the notebook, hovering it over the flint. A faint sizzling sound arose, and light smoke began to rise from the bottom of the notebook.

 

The moment before sparks ignited, Huo Yanji reached out and crushed them.

 

He maintained this position for a long time, as if he couldn’t feel the heat, until noisy sounds came from outside.

 

He threw down the notebook and got up to leave. The soldier beside him moved to help: “Sir!”

 

Huo Yanji raised his hand to indicate it wasn’t necessary. Just looking at his walking posture, you couldn’t tell his leg was severely injured.

 

The humanoid creatures outside were gone, leaving only Sang Jue standing at the cliff’s edge and a head clinging to the stone cliff edge.

 

Sang Jue was having a conversation with that head: “You’re still alive?”

 

The other replied: “Why do you sound disappointed?”

 

Sang Jue put his hands behind his back: “I’m not.”

 

“What were you eating just now? Give me some, I’m starving to death.”

 

“I wasn’t… wasn’t eating anything.”

 

“Really?”

 

Sang Jue said uncertainly: “Really…”

 

He really! Didn’t! Want to eat them!!

 

It was just that when driving away the humanoid creatures, he accidentally tore off a small piece from them, and his stomach happened to growl at the right time, so…

 

They were somewhat like gemstones, both could provide the energy he needed, and even provided more energy than gemstones.

 

Sang Jue bit his lip, once again confirming that he might be like ‘them,’ not belonging to the category of living beings.

 

All living beings ate meat or plants for energy to sustain activity, only he was different.

 

A familiar scent reached his nose, and Huo Yanji’s body heat approached his back.

 

 

Sang Jue turned around and looked up at Huo Yanji, protesting with the guilty conscience of someone trying to cover up: “I really didn’t steal anything to eat.”

 

“Mm.”

 

Huo Yanji put his hand on Sang Jue’s shoulder and said to the head at the cliff’s edge: “If you like clinging so much, don’t come up.”

 

The other person quickly grabbed the protrusions on the cliff wall, supported his body and climbed up, then performed a difficult salute: “Sir, Colin reporting for duty!”

 

Then he fell backward and collapsed on the ground.

 

His hands and legs were trembling, with safety ropes on his body, all his strength completely drained.

 

He wanted to stand up, but his body wouldn’t allow it: “Sorry, sir, I…”

 

Huo Yanji threw him a bottle of water and compressed crackers: “Sit down and rest.”

 

“Yes…” Colin couldn’t care less about military bearing and wolfed down several bites of crackers, only to choke. His hands shook so badly he couldn’t even unscrew the bottle cap.

 

Sang Jue kindly opened it for him.

 

Colin: “…”

 

He tilted his head back and poured directly down his throat. For a moment, the only sound on the dim cliff was the gurgling of water being drunk.

 

After draining the bottle, he threw it aside and gasped: “Sir, I have a major discovery.”

 

“What?”

 

Colin was probably the one who fell deepest. At the critical moment, he had woven a green fungal net to catch his body, thus avoiding death.

 

Everything around was pitch black. Fortunately, there was a military backpack nearby containing equipment like flashlights and safety rope hooks. He had originally tried to walk up through the caves, but found they were completely irregular like a maze and nearly died from oxygen deprivation.

 

By coincidence, he returned to the cliff where he had fallen and decided to climb up layer by layer. Now his limbs were shaking like noodles.

 

By rough estimate, he should have climbed four to five hundred meters.

 

The flashlight had fallen when he was halfway up. The backpack was too heavy and a burden for climbing, so he abandoned it early. Only one thing had been firmly grasped until now, even wearing blood marks into his palm.

 

—A maple leaf medal.

 

Colin instinctively reached out to hand it to Huo Yanji, but suddenly realized he was now a deviant, and the medal was stained with his blood, so he couldn’t have direct contact with Huo Yanji as an ordinary person.

 

“Sir, your gloves…”

 

Sang Jue helped take it.

 

He still remembered when he went to the lighthouse to register medals last time, the staff member told him that everyone’s medal was unique, with each person’s name initials on the side.

 

“Huo… Huo Feng?”

 

Sang Jue turned around again, looking at Huo Yanji.

 

Colin took a deep breath: “That’s right! This is General Huo Feng’s medal!”

 

After sixty years, they had found the first clue about Huo Feng.

 

Huo Feng might never know how turbulent and unstable the safe zones were in the twenty years before his disappearance.

 

At that time, a large-scale contamination assault had just ended. Due to Huo Feng’s disappearance, that battle resulted in heavy casualties, with one-third of humanity falling into eternal sleep.

 

The more difficult the times, the more a spiritual pillar was needed. When this spiritual pillar suddenly disappeared, everyone fell into confusion and bewilderment.

 

The survivors prayed like mad, even cursed, spending years searching for traces of Huo Feng, but there was no news.

 

Perhaps it was suddenly losing the direction of faith, or perhaps people had lost too much in that battle. In any case, during that period, order collapsed and chaos arose… They vented their suppressed and collapsed emotions freely, with the entire population going mad.

 

Some even directly broke away from safe zone jurisdiction. More and more rebel organizations wandered in ruins and relics, causing trouble and blood debts one after another.

 

The path ahead was pitch black.

 

It took a full sixty years for humanity to barely stabilize to today’s situation. But there were still only a few large safe zones with decent security, while other distant and remote small safe zones remained chaotic.

 

Colin wanted to say something more when Shui Ming’s group returned.

 

Sang Jue looked puzzledly toward the cave direction—it seemed four were missing.

 

But he wasn’t good at math, so he recounted uncertainly. Indeed, four people were missing.

 

They had eighteen survivors in total. He had stayed at the base with Huo Yanji, plus two soldiers left behind just in case. The other fourteen people had all been taken out by Shui Ming, but only ten returned.

 

Nine soldiers, one Ah Qin, and four community residents were missing.

 

Were they dead?

 

Sang Jue asked: “Did you encounter danger?”

 

Shui Ming nodded unnaturally. Seeing Colin alive, genuine joy flashed in his eyes.

 

But there was no time for greetings. He reported: “Sir, we’ve started the generator. As long as we find the elevator’s location, we can return to the surface!”

 

Huo Yanji said flatly: “Starting the elevator requires a key. Just having the generator is useless.”

 

Shui Ming was stunned: “A key?”

 

Sang Jue felt Huo Yanji’s mood was a bit off. Although he didn’t know why, he still thoughtfully helped answer: “We found a notebook written by a man named Ivan who had ball pain. It mentioned that starting the elevator requires a key code, but the engineer who knew the key is already dead.”

 

Shui Ming opened his mouth, looked at Huo Yanji, but couldn’t say a word.

 

Struggle and confusion flashed in his eyes. Would the general really be lost here…

 

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the reflective object in Sang Jue’s hand and was startled: “What is that?”

 

Sang Jue handed it directly to him, then grabbed Huo Yanji’s clothes—after thinking, he still crouched down and wiped the blood on Colin.

 

Colin couldn’t be bothered with speechlessness and eagerly anticipated Shui Ming’s reaction: “Look at the name on the side!”

 

Shui Ming slowly held up the medal, his pupils sharply contracting.

 

“Huo… General Huo Feng?” He looked at Huo Yanji in disbelief, seeking confirmation, but only met Huo Yanji’s calm gaze.

 

Shui Ming had thought he didn’t regard anyone as faith, but until the moment he saw Huo Feng’s medal, his hands were trembling. Only then did he realize how deeply the name Huo Feng was ingrained in the bones of survivors in today’s spiritually impoverished world, from his birth until now.

 

He spoke incoherently: “Sir, it’s General Huo Feng’s medal! Really, look at the side, this can’t be a fake! The general’s name initials are clearly engraved here, and there’s a lot of grime—you can tell it’s been many years. You and General Huo Jiangmin’s father, Huo Feng, very likely disappeared in the rift, maybe he got lost here, he—”

 

Shui Ming’s breathing was rapid, his chest heaving violently, his face and neck flushed red.

 

“Colin.”

 

“Here.”

 

“Cover his mouth.”

 

“Ah…” Colin glanced at Shui Ming’s expression and immediately understood, “Yes!”

 

He struggled to get up, cupping his palm like a mask and covering Shui Ming’s mouth.

 

Shui Ming’s mind was like it was fogged over. He wanted to struggle, but his numb limbs wouldn’t allow it, his body and brain both seeming frozen.

 

Colin sternly commanded: “Colonel, breathe!”

 

After breathing carbon dioxide through Colin’s hand for a while, Shui Ming gradually calmed down and regained consciousness.

 

—He had actually developed respiratory alkalosis from hyperventilation in the oxygen-deprived depths 2,000 meters underground.

 

Huo Yanji’s gaze was ice-cold: “Colonel, you took almost everyone with you, made no emergency contingency plans, didn’t even leave a route map. Did you think about the consequences of not being able to bring others back safely if you encountered danger!?”

 

Shui Ming lowered his head: “Sir, I was too reckless.”

 

So fierce.

 

Sang Jue stood behind Huo Yanji, peeking at Shui Ming. From when he returned until now, Shui Ming hadn’t made eye contact with any of them.

 

Both Shui Ming and Colin were people Huo Yanji had personally selected and gradually promoted since the year he became colonel.

 

Looking at this subordinate who had followed him for nearly ten years, he sternly demanded: “Do you know you’re in serious violation of discipline? Colonel.”

 

Like having a bucket of cold water poured over his head, Shui Ming knelt down, his excitement at discovering clues about General Huo Feng completely vanishing.

 

After stammering for a long time, he trembled and spoke words that only he and Huo Yanji understood: “I would sacrifice everything for your reputation—”

 

Through fire and water, without hesitation.

 

The tragedy of the People’s Trial must not be repeated. He was not only doing this for the general, but also for the millions of residents in the safe zones. They absolutely could not let tragedy create a second person like the current Huo Jiangmin, or humanity would truly be finished.

 

The soldiers wouldn’t leak the fact that Sang Jue was a deviant, but others might not be so reliable.

 

Was it because the blood splattered on his face wasn’t wiped clean, allowing the general to see through it?

 

Perhaps no flaws were needed—the general could guess anyway. Huo Yanji was always like this, able to see through all disguises effortlessly.

 

Shui Ming’s face was pale, his pupils gradually dilating.

 

He had told a lie… when he woke up after falling into the rift, he had told the general that he had tested their contamination levels and none of them were infected.

 

But that wasn’t true.

 

He had been infected.

 

It wasn’t because he was afraid of death that he concealed it—he just wanted to protect the general for one more stretch.

 

Kneeling there, Shui Ming saw Sang Jue standing behind the general with a calm expression, lips slightly pursed, and suddenly realized something.

 

So you saw through it.

 

He forced a smile at Sang Jue, showing his last smile, then powerlessly lowered his head and mumbled a request: “Please… grant me rest.”

 

He was on the verge of losing order.

 

He had thought there was still time to escort the general and his lover to the elevator.

 

**

 

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