EDEH Chapter 31

【007 Diary Thirteen】

 

[Attempting to search for the keyword “People’s Trial.” No results.

 

But unexpectedly, a destroyed classified file titled “Dawn” was detected. Attempting data recovery.]

 

.

 

 

After a long, dead silence, Huo Yanji’s cold voice finally broke the air: “You’re quite self-aware.”

 

The Governor leaned back, his whole body suddenly relaxing.

 

If he had another chance, he would never have returned to the community after escaping prison.

 

“Isn’t it strange? Bo Qing, exiled from the main city, ended up wandering into my territory. After being infected by spores, not only did he survive, he became one of the lucky thousandths, and helped me build up the community.”

 

Shui Ming frowned. “Deviants with fungal contamination genes are very strong—how did you kill him?”

 

The Governor started laughing, rocking back and forth.

 

“Killing him should have been as simple as a bullet, but he just had to be Huo Jiangmian’s lover, the one exiled by the People’s Trial! Hahahahaha…”

 

He couldn’t stop laughing: “It’s all karma, all karma, hahahaha…”

 

He laughed like a madman, trying to hide the fear in his eyes.

 

Sang Jue felt an itch in his heart—these people never finished their stories. Why did the People’s Trial happen? What was the trial process? No one explained.

 

So annoying.

 

He really wanted to kick the Governor again.

 

After realizing Bo Qing was the exile, the Governor naturally didn’t want him to die too quickly.

 

Fungal deviants are indeed powerful, but spores scattered through the air attack indiscriminately… Only systematic training can bring them under control.

 

“I just kept a few community members by my side, and he didn’t dare make a move.”

 

The Governor sneered, lowered his head, and after a long pause, said simply, “I raped him… then told him that the ‘innocent’ residents I’d kidnapped to force his hand were once the best ‘hunters’.”

 

A wound to the heart.

 

Huo Yanji, adjusting his gloves, asked blandly, “So you didn’t kill him?”

 

“You know about those special inhibitors for calming deviants, right? I kept him locked up for a while.”

 

The Governor closed his eyes, looking like a capricious lunatic, his body starting to tremble again. “He killed himself… the night Huo Jiangmian came looking for him.”

 

A once wild and brilliant youth, after being betrayed by everyone, maybe just couldn’t take it anymore—or maybe he’d lost all hope in this ruined world, and ended his own life.

 

But if he’d waited just one minute longer, he would have seen Huo Jiangmian arrive.

 

The Governor would never forget that night—how Huo Jiangmian, expressionless, looked at Bo Qing’s corpse, even touching some of Bo Qing’s blood to his own dry lips.

 

The Governor hadn’t realized what was about to happen and continued to taunt from behind: “If you hadn’t gotten me locked up for three years, I could have given him a quick death.”

 

…

 

A fist wrapped in a black glove smashed hard into the Governor’s face. Huo Yanji wore a smile eerily similar to Huo Jiangmian’s, but his eyes were ice-cold.

 

He grabbed the Governor by the neck and slammed him into the back of the vehicle—once, twice—denting the metal and sending blood streaming down, soaking the Governor’s hair.

 

The Governor let out broken, incoherent howls of pain.

 

No one stopped it. No one dared.

 

Just as Huo Yanji had said, his methods of torment were much more direct and brutal than Huo Jiangmian’s.

 

The Governor’s hands were tied behind his back; he was powerless to resist. Blood spread across the back of his head as he slid down the wall of the vehicle.

 

But it wasn’t over.

 

Huo Yanji tore away the bandage on the Governor’s knee and cruelly dug into the wound, pressing and twisting hard.

 

“AAAHHHH!” The Governor threw his head back, veins bulging all over his body, howling in agony.

 

It was the first time Sang Jue had seen this side of Huo Yanji, and he was stunned.

 

Huo Yanji let go of the Governor and, turning to see Sang Jue watching, his Adam’s apple bobbed.

 

He pressed his earpiece. “Stop the car!”

 

The convoy slowed to a halt. Hearing the commotion, Colin poked his head out: “General, what’s wrong?”

 

“Send a doctor to this vehicle.” Huo Yanji, soaked through by the rain, peeled off his gloves and reached out to Sang Jue. “Come down.”

 

Sang Jue was startled. “For what?”

 

Huo Yanji said coolly, “Don’t you like talking to Colin? Go to his car.”

 

Colin’s heart pounded in confusion. What is this—some kind of living hell? Did the General misunderstand something!?

 

Sang Jue pursed his lips. “I don’t really like him—he’s not even my friend yet.”

 

Colin: “…??”

 

Sang Jue asked quietly, “Can I refuse?”

 

“Sang Jue.” Huo Yanji’s voice mixed with the rain, “No.”

 

Though his tone was as cold as ever, Sang Jue could sense Huo Yanji’s displeasure—a heavy, suppressed pressure radiated from him.

 

People have emotions… even someone as calm as Ji Ji.

 

“Alright then. When you’re not angry anymore, remember to come get me.”

 

Huo Yanji took the backpack and umbrella from the driver, opened the umbrella, and escorted Sang Jue to the next vehicle. He handed him the bag: “There’s water and food inside. If you’re tired, get some sleep.”

 

“Okay.” Sang Jue climbed in, then grabbed Huo Yanji’s sleeve, saying, “Don’t get angry over what that disgusting man says. He’s not worth it.”

 

“…Alright.”

 

The convoy moved on. On the rain-soaked road between forest and city, raindrops battered the solemn line of vehicles. Aside from the occasional screams that even the storm couldn’t drown out, there was no other sound.

 

Fine powder was sprinkled onto the Governor’s bleeding wounds; he looked as if he’d been caught in the rain, drenched in sweat, his face deathly pale.

 

The doctor said, “General, the bleeding from his fingers and the back of his head has stopped, but his skull is fractured.”

 

Huo Yanji replied coolly, “He won’t die.”

 

The supervisor beside him kept his eyes down; his pen had long since stopped moving.

 

Meticulous as ever, Huo Yanji undid a shirt button and signaled, “Continue.”

 

The Governor hesitated for a long time before weakly saying, “That night, he took Bo Qing’s body away… and took me too.”

 

That was when the nightmare began.

 

Huo Jiangmian built him a special prison, scalded half his body with boiling water—leaving only his hideous face and body, and the place that represented his dignity.

 

Not once or twice, but every single day he was locked up there.

 

He was chained in a pitch-black room, forced to live like a dog, eating food meant for animals.

 

But whenever he was near death, a doctor would come to treat him, keeping him sane.

 

“How did you escape later?”

 

“Escape? How could I possibly escape?” The Governor laughed manically. “Huo Jiangmian let me go—he let me go!!”

 

The best way to destroy someone isn’t to lock them in darkness for life, but to break them until they have no hope left, then let them see the sunlight—make them think it’s over—then drag them back and crush their hope again.

 

“He’s a devil—no, worse than a devil!!”

 

Why only ruin half his body? To keep him wandering between hell and the human world, never fully lost to either.

 

Just as Ah Qin had said, the Governor disappeared for a month every year.

 

The second time he was captured, he was stripped naked and locked in a pitch-black room about thirty square meters, with no light or sound, so every sensation was magnified.

 

He felt something writhing beside him… cold, slimy things.

 

He froze, not daring to move.

 

Another cold, slimy thing crawled up his right leg, coiling around his waist, his neck, his arms.

 

Snakes—non-venomous, non-contaminated snakes, a whole group of them.

 

All they had was a cold touch and two sharp fangs. In the darkness, you never knew when one would bite, anywhere.

 

He didn’t dare sleep, nerves taut. If he finally passed out, he’d be bitten awake by those fangs.

 

After a whole month, he was released again—not for any other reason, but because any more and he’d die. Huo Jiangmian wanted him to recover for the next round of torment.

 

And every day before the next time, he woke from nightmares, wondering what new torture awaited him.

 

He’d endured the rustling of rats in the dark, burrowing everywhere; swarms of primitive cockroaches slowly covering his body, gnawing his skin and hair when they got hungry…

 

Although they all felt the Governor deserved his fate, the three others—aside from Huo Yanji—couldn’t help but feel a chill run down their spines.

 

“After you were released, did you just stay in the community and wait for him to come catch you again?”

 

“He implanted a tracking chip in my brain.” The Governor was in so much pain that his voice trembled. “At first, I didn’t know about it. I ran off to the southwest, to the territory of the wanderers, hoping to hide… but he wiped them all out.”

 

A long silence followed.

 

Maybe they were still processing all this, or maybe learning General Huo Jiangmian’s secret suddenly made them feel as if their own days were numbered.

 

Huo Yanji still looked calm, but the bloodstains on his white shirt betrayed his earlier loss of control.

 

He gestured for Shui Ming to take over.

 

Shui Ming immediately straightened up. “You weren’t the ones who dug the underground tunnel in the Seventh Security District, were you?”

 

The Governor replied, “You saw for yourself—counting all my subordinates and the community residents, there are only about two hundred people. How could we have the resources to dig a tunnel?”

 

Huo Yanji closed his eyes and tapped the armrest. “Tell us about the list.”

 

After being tormented, the Governor had lost all his fight. “The list was given to me by your people.”

 

Shui Ming asked, “Our people?”

 

“If not your people, then who else?” The Governor hung his head, voice weak. “What would outlaws like us want with so many people—are we supposed to eat them?”

 

Shui Ming frowned. “You don’t know who it was?”

 

The Governor closed his eyes. “No… Three months ago, he suddenly showed up in my community, wrapped up tight, paid well, and said that as long as I completed the deal, he’d make sure Huo Jiangmian would never torment me again.”

 

Someone who knew what Huo Jiangmian was doing behind the scenes… could only be someone high up.

 

The Governor continued, “There are more than three thousand names on the list. He told me to pick as I liked—the first batch needed only two hundred. The delivery was due at the end of this month.”

 

Shui Ming asked, “Was there anything special about the people on the list?”

 

The Governor said sarcastically, “I’m just a pawn—do you think he’d tell me that much?”

 

Shui Ming pressed, “Then why did you change your mind a few days ago and try to use them to threaten the General for contaminated genes?”

 

“You really think we’d go to all this trouble just for contaminated genes? Sure, they’re expensive, but you can buy them on the black market.”

 

The real reason the Governor held his position was because he was the only deviant in the community—the strongest one. If he lost that uniqueness, how could he stay in charge?

 

“At that point, they found me again and told me to use the hostages to kidnap Huo Yanji’s little lover. The bigger the mess, the better—to draw you out.”

 

Shui Ming glanced at Huo Yanji’s expression, ignoring the “little lover” remark, and asked, “They?”

 

The Governor grunted, “The person who gave me the list and the one who contacted me later weren’t the same. Both wore protective masks and were bundled up, but the first one was left-handed.”

 

Huo Yanji’s eyes snapped open, and he signaled the doctor.

 

The doctor immediately injected the exhausted Governor with a sedative, and within seconds, he was unconscious.

 

Shui Ming couldn’t help but ask, “Sir, as soon as you left, the Council tried to seize the aircraft—could it have been them?”

 

Huo Yanji: “What would their motive be?”

 

Shui Ming was at a loss—indeed, the initial hostage-taking wasn’t meant to lure Huo Yanji away, so what was the original purpose?

 

Even Colin was on that list—what was the meaning behind it?

 

Huo Yanji said calmly, “Do you know what Bo Qing and Colin have in common?”

 

Shui Ming shook his head hesitantly.

 

He was a deviant, and his impression of Bo Qing was only from others’ stories. After the People’s Trial, that name had become taboo—no one mentioned it anymore.

 

As for Colin and Bo Qing, they were from completely different backgrounds and generations.

 

Colin was several years younger than Bo Qing and didn’t come up from the underground at the same time.

 

Shui Ming ventured, “They’re both men?”

 

Huo Yanji gave him a look.

 

Shui Ming fell silent, realizing how foolish that sounded.

 

Huo Yanji continued slowly, “Their only two shared traits are that they’re both ordinary people—neither passed genetic screening, neither could fuse with contaminated genes.”

 

Shui Ming asked, “Only two… so what’s the other trait?”

 

Huo Yanji didn’t answer, but instead brought up something else: “Three months ago, something happened at the research institute that’s also somewhat related to Sang Jue.”

 

“What…” Shui Ming was confused—wasn’t Sang Jue just a newly approved resident from ten days ago?

 

The doctor nearby suddenly looked up. “We’ve never managed to fuse non-fungal plant genes with humans, but this year a supervisor was accidentally infected with forget-worry vine during a mission. Not only did he retain his sanity, he successfully fused with it… Even though he lost control after two months and died, it was still a miracle.”

 

That jogged Shui Ming’s memory. “So after that supervisor died, the military immediately sent a team to the ruins to collect young forget-worry vines for research!”

 

He remembered the team leader was named Si Fu, a devoted follower of Commander Huo Feng—Shui Ming had even had drinks with him.

 

But with mature forget-worry vines, you couldn’t even get close—step into their range and you’d die before you knew what happened. All you could do was wait for the seedlings to grow.

 

So Si Fu’s team waited over two months… and in the end, the whole team was wiped out.

 

Huo Yanji said calmly, “When Si Fu was dying, he met Sang Jue and asked him to bring the forget-worry vine back to the city.”

 

Shui Ming suddenly realized, “That supervisor who was accidentally infected and survived two months was also someone who failed the genetic screening!”

 

Huo Yanji lowered his eyes, his tone icy. “That supervisor, Colin, and Bo Qing—their greatest commonality is that none of them passed genetic screening, yet after being infected by wild contaminated genes, they became the one-in-a-thousand lucky ones who survived.”

 

That probability—calling it a coincidence feels a little too far-fetched.

 

Shui Ming sensed a whiff of conspiracy in the air…

 

“So you mean, the more than three thousand people on that list are also those who failed genetic screening and can’t become deviants?”

 

A chill ran down Shui Ming’s spine. “But someone discovered that among people who failed genetic screening, the chance of retaining sanity after being infected by wild species genes is much higher than one in a thousand?”

 

It’s a widely accepted fact: the lucky few who survive infection by wild contaminated genes are far stronger than ordinary deviants.

 

The problem is, the chance of surviving infection is so low—only one in a thousand—so it’s not worth the risk.

 

But what if there were a group whose odds could be raised? What if it could be increased to one percent, ten percent, even fifty percent?

 

Huo Yanji’s tone was calm: “Let me tell you another little secret.”

 

“I-I-I’m not sure I want to know…” Shui Ming stammered. “Maybe you shouldn’t say it?”

 

The more secrets you know, the faster you tend to die.

 

Catching a glance, Shui Ming quickly corrected himself: “Please, go ahead.”

 

Huo Yanji dropped a bombshell: “Huo Feng didn’t pass his genetic screening either.”

 

“…!!” Shui Ming was stunned. “Marshal Huo Feng, the one who disappeared?”

 

“Wasn’t—wasn’t Marshal Huo Feng supposed to be the first evolved human after gene fusion technology matured? How could he have failed genetic screening?”

 

“So how did the Marshal become a deviant—was it also an accidental infection in the wild?”

 

“To be precise, he was accidentally infected beneath Rift No. 2.”

 

That’s why Huo Feng was so powerful, able to single-handedly hold back legions of contaminated creatures.

 

It was like a thunderbolt in Shui Ming’s heart—so much for a “little” secret.

 

Anyone who chose to become a deviant had grown up in the underground city hearing about Huo Feng’s legendary achievements, and many felt a sense of admiration and devotion.

 

History books described Huo Feng like this: “He was a pioneer, a hero, the first to dare to stake his life and carve open a new world.”

 

But now, someone was saying that Marshal Huo Feng became a deviant by accident—not as the first brave pioneer to try it.

 

Shui Ming scratched his head… He was losing his mind.

 

He really shouldn’t have gotten in this car today. He should have swapped with Colin.

 

A beep sounded as Huo Yanji pressed his communicator, and Colin’s grave voice came through: “Sir, Colonel Saiya’s convoy escorting the hostages has gone completely missing!”

 

Huo Yanji’s face turned cold, but before he could reply, a huge explosion sounded in his ear. The vehicle jolted violently, swaying and lurching as if drunk.

 

Clutching his ears against the ringing, Huo Yanji pressed his communicator: “Everyone, jump out of the vehicles—now!”

 

But it was too late.

 

The vehicles immediately tipped down the right-side slope, rolling over and over. Everyone inside was thrown around; even seatbelts couldn’t restrain bodies that had lost gravity.

 

First the headlights shattered, then the doors, bumpers, and hood were all smashed.

 

After about five minutes, the vehicle finally stopped rolling. Some people had been thrown out; others were knocked unconscious by the impacts.

 

Huo Yanji, his arm trapped by the guardrail, pushed himself up and checked the doctor beside him… already dead.

 

His Adam’s apple bobbed a few times.

 

He was just about to pull his arm free… when the car moved again.

 

It felt like it was perched on the edge of a cliff, half the cabin dangling precariously.

 

A massive rift yawned beneath the sky, like a giant wound on the planet’s surface.

 

Torrential rain poured down, vanishing into the abyss.

 

The convoy that had tumbled down the slope was a complete mess—some vehicles had already fallen into the rift, some were stuck on the edge, but within seconds, even those were swept down by the howling wind.

 

……

 

“Drip… drip…”

 

“Huo Yanji!! Wake up!!” A long-missed, noisy voice sounded in his ear.

 

With difficulty, Huo Yanji opened his eyes to see the disheveled, youthful figure of Huo Jiangmian.

 

Huo Jiangmian tried to help him up: “Don’t sleep, get up—this place is too dangerous!”

 

But Huo Yanji’s left leg was pinned by a heavy log, and blood was pooling rapidly.

 

He weakly pushed Huo Jiangmian away, his voice hoarse: “Go find Bo Qing. He should be nearby; he fell down with me…”

 

“Huo Yanji, what the hell is wrong with you!?” Huo Jiangmian frowned, then forcefully lifted the heavy log and helped the weakened Huo Yanji to his feet.

 

But the distant howling of wolves stopped them—mutated wolves were still pack animals, extremely sensitive to the scent of blood.

 

Frowning, Huo Jiangmian hid the semi-conscious Huo Yanji in a nearby cave, tore off a clean undershirt to bandage Huo Yanji’s leg, and smeared the blood from the wound onto himself.

 

Just as he was about to leave, a hand grabbed his wrist.

 

Huo Yanji’s voice was icy and calm: “Huo Jiangmian… don’t do anything pointless.”

 

“Your brain really did get knocked loose,” Huo Jiangmian sighed, a familiar smile on his lips. “If you’re scared, just say so.”

 

“…Idiot.”

 

“Why are you calling names now? Fine, I’m going—gotta draw the wolves away before they get here.”

 

One by one, Huo Jiangmian pried Huo Yanji’s fingers off, as if saying his last words: “I really did say before, Bo Qing is the one I want to spend my life with. I’d die for him.”

 

Huo Yanji let out a faint, mocking laugh: “Then what are you waiting for? Go save him.”

 

“Are you jealous of your sister-in-law?” Huo Jiangmian laughed, then, for once, grew serious: “But you’re my brother. You’re my only family. I’d die for you too—I’d do anything for you.”

 

“You’re my little brother.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I am.”

 

Huo Yanji’s consciousness grew heavier and heavier. That youthful figure gradually faded away, taking the sound of approaching wolves with it.

 

Did Huo Jiangmian ever come back?

 

He did—and yet, he didn’t.

 

……

 

‘Drip…..drip…’

 

A hollow sound, like blood or water droplets falling.

 

The cave was shrouded in darkness, only the hanging stalactites emitting a faint blue-green glow, sharp and pointed.

 

Nearby were scattered pieces of armored vehicle wreckage, and several motionless people—whether dead or alive, it was impossible to tell.

 

After a long time, slender fingers clad in black gloves twitched. A handsome but battered face rested on an arm.

 

Blood slid from the temple down to the jaw, and those thin lips murmured softly, “Sang Jue…”

 

In this collapsed era, such a statement seems almost laughable.

 

In the post-apocalyptic world, only those who are useful are allowed to survive.

 

While waiting for the recorder to regain vital signs, Huo Yanji took the only flashlight and surveyed their surroundings.

 

The cave was vast, its floor a gentle slope, and not far behind them stood a cliff—not high, but impossible for anyone to climb. That was the direction from which they had fallen. Even though it faced what should have been the exit, not a single glimmer of light could be seen.

 

Huo Yanji rolled up his sleeve and glanced at the goosebumps rising on his skin, his brow furrowing slightly.

 

“Shui Ming, check the surrounding backpacks for any compressed oxygen tanks,” Huo Yanji instructed methodically. “By my estimate, we’re now two thousand meters beneath Rift No. 2. What we need: firestones, oxygen tanks, warm clothing—preferably a windbreaker—flashlight or headlamp, red flower snake venom, nutrient packs, protective masks, climbing ropes—and for dealing with contaminated creatures, a dagger is more useful than a bullet.”

 

“Understood.”

 

All this equipment was standard in the armored vehicles, but now everything was scattered by the crash. Whether they could find what they needed was a matter of luck.

 

Shui Ming had suspected they were in Rift No. 2, but hadn’t realized they were so deep. Fortunately, they had slid down the rift’s slope instead of falling straight down, or their bodies would have been destroyed beyond recognition.

 

The peril of their situation meant there likely weren’t many other survivors.

 

Huo Yanji walked some distance to the right but found no more people or vehicle parts—perhaps others had landed on an upper level, or fallen even deeper.

 

Luck was on their side: Shui Ming found two compressed oxygen tanks, but only one windbreaker. All the nutrient packs were smashed and inedible, and nothing else could be found.

 

By the time he’d gathered everything, the recorder had awakened.

 

He struggled to sit up and, seeing the needle mark on his arm, understood what had happened. Ashamed, he said to Huo Yanji, “Sir, the red flower snake venom should be saved for someone more useful.”

 

Huo Yanji replied, “Then do your best to become someone useful.”

 

Without another word, he walked to the edge of a cliff a dozen meters away. Below, it was pitch black; in the flashlight’s beam, the uneven ground could barely be seen, perhaps thirty or forty meters down. If they hadn’t landed on this slope and had fallen from here, they would surely have died.

 

The flashlight illuminated a corner at the bottom of the cliff, where it seemed two overlapping figures lay, their chests faintly rising and falling.

 

“Find a way down—there may be survivors.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Shui Ming said. “Please put on the windbreaker.”

 

Huo Yanji had given his jacket to Sang Jue earlier, so now he wore only a white shirt, stained with mud and blood and torn in several places.

 

He didn’t refuse—the need for warmth was greater for him than for Shui Ming, who was a deviant, especially after losing so much blood.

 

“Stay alert,” Huo Yanji said calmly. “The deeper into the rift, the more dangerous the substances become.”

 

“Understood.”

 

Since the collapse, many things beyond human understanding had appeared. For example, the firestone in the simple lamp: just a fist-sized rock, yet it could emit light and heat within a two-meter radius—there were many such stones in Rift No. 1.

 

Or the bizarre substances in every rift that could digest a human corpse and transform into that person.

 

Rift No. 2 was especially infamous for its internal tentacle genes. Back in the day, Marshal Huo Feng was so powerful he seemed beyond human; the land for miles around was under his control, and his differentiated tentacles were everywhere.

 

Since Huo Feng, no deviant nearly as strong had ever appeared—not even half as strong. That’s why he remained a legendary figure, an unattainable myth for future generations.

 

Even so, tentacles were still the most sought-after contaminated gene.

 

Thinking of the “little secret” Huo Yanji had mentioned, Shui Ming’s mind was in turmoil, briefly lost in confusion.

 

He suddenly realized that perhaps everyone lived within the web of big and small lies spun by those in power—from birth to death.

 

“Focus. Stay sharp.”

 

“…Yes, sir.”

 

The surroundings were too dark; the sloped ceiling was covered in dense, sharp stalactites that glowed with a blue-green light. The ground also had some protruding stalagmites, requiring constant attention.

 

The recorder’s wounds had been treated simply, but he was still shivering from blood loss and cold.

 

Huo Yanji handed him the firestone lantern. “Carry this.”

 

“…Thank you, sir.”

 

Huo Yanji rested his broken left hand on his knife-wielding right wrist and moved forward, searching for a path to the lower level.

 

He asked, “What’s your name?”

 

The recorder could only see Huo Yanji’s calm, steady back. Stunned, he replied, “Ran Zhen, sir. My name is Ran Zhen.”

 

Huo Yanji said evenly, “Ran Zhen, don’t let the red flower snake venom go to waste.”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

Ran Zhen felt a surge of energy, like he could stay awake for three days and nights.

 

Shui Ming scouted ahead, worried. “Sir, is there really a way down?”

 

Huo Yanji replied, “Before the meteor season, our ancestors mined deep within the rift—there must be a way.”

 

Another secret, never heard before.

 

People nowadays lacked the resources and technology of the past, and could only avoid these perilous rifts.

 

Lost in his thoughts, Shui Ming didn’t notice that the rock wall to his right looked odd. Then he heard a faint sound, as if something had brushed against a small stone.

 

Before he could react, a cold flash swept past his ear, striking the wall to his right with a “thud.”

 

When the light shone over, Shui Ming realized it wasn’t a wall at all, but a giant black-purple tentacle!

 

Its surface was covered in sticky yellow fluid—the very sound of it dripping onto the stones had alerted Huo Yanji, who quickly drew his dagger and saved Shui Ming from being strangled and devoured.

 

But the tentacle wasn’t dead. It only froze for a few seconds, its tip still swaying in the air, casting shifting shadows throughout the entire cave.

 

Shui Ming reacted quickly this time, using his beast-like arm to grab the slender tip of the tentacle, while its thick base was even wider than both his thighs put together.

 

A tentacle this massive had strength far beyond what an ordinary deviant could withstand. In just a moment, Shui Ming was flung and slammed against the opposite rock wall, letting out a muffled grunt.

 

The flashlight crashed to the ground, and the huge tentacle’s shadow above them swayed.

 

Just as the tip of the tentacle was about to force its way into Shui Ming’s mouth, Huo Yanji swiftly drew his long dagger that had already pierced the tentacle’s base and slashed down hard!

 

As if it felt pain, the tentacle in the air stiffened for two seconds, then crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

 

“Cough, cough…” Shui Ming covered his mouth, staring in shock at the severed, shivering tentacle on the ground. “How can it be this big?”

 

Eighty percent of soldiers had been into the rift, but the deepest most had ever gone was about five hundred meters underground, usually to collect some rift-specific genes.

 

Years ago, Shui Ming had led a team into Rift No. 2, but the largest tentacle he’d seen then was only as thick as his calf.

 

Huo Yanji calmly wiped his dagger. “Be prepared—the deeper we go, the bigger the tentacles we might encounter.”

 

This tentacle seemed to grow out of the rock wall, with no visible origin. The cut surface was oozing a blackish-purple liquid that resembled blood—

 

This was the wild contaminated gene the research institute needed. After a series of treatments to reduce its toxicity to a certain level, it could be made usable for humans.

 

But even after being severed, it didn’t mean the tentacle was dying; within just a few months, it would regrow a new tentacle body.

 

Shui Ming still couldn’t understand: “Is it an animal or a plant?”

 

Animals don’t grow in the ground, but calling it a plant didn’t quite fit either. The tentacle was mostly made of skin, flesh, and fluid, similar to humans, just without bones.

 

How did its base survive in solid rock? Where did it get its nutrients?

 

These were still mysteries.

 

“Do you really want to know?”

 

Damn, is this going to be another dark secret? Maybe it’s better not to know.

 

Shui Ming shrank back. “I’d rather stay in the dark, sir.”

 

A faint, mocking laugh echoed through the cave.

 

Behind them, Ran Zhen was still diligently recording everything he saw, doing his best to stay alert.

 

“The deeper we go, the less aggressive the tentacles become,” Huo Yanji reminded. “They’re fundamentally different from the contaminated creatures on the surface. Their aggression is mainly triggered by noise and strong light—so keep quiet.”

 

Ran Zhen nodded. “Understood.”

 

Shui Ming already knew this; teams collecting contaminated genes always used night-vision goggles to avoid stimulating the tentacles with bright light.

 

After the recent lesson, Shui Ming was especially cautious.

 

There was only one path under their feet—no choice but to go forward or back.

 

“Whoosh…”

 

It sounded like wind.

 

But how could there be wind two thousand meters down in the rift?

 

Shui Ming listened carefully and whispered, “Sir… it sounds like someone breathing.”

 

Huo Yanji signaled to keep moving.

 

The cave grew narrower as they went, and after about twenty meters, they saw a familiar figure lying on the ground up ahead.

 

Ran Zhen recognized him immediately. “It’s that male doctor from the community.”

 

At the same time, Huo Yanji spoke in a low voice, “Don’t move, don’t speak. Hold the lantern in your left hand.”

 

Ran Zhen froze, then stiffly did as told. Only then did he notice two faint, thick shadows overhead.

 

“Avoid the stalagmites underfoot and move forward.”

 

Ran Zhen swallowed and moved forward slowly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tentacle embedded in the rock wall slowly probing out, its flexible tip curling as if searching for the source of the noise.

 

After getting more than ten meters away, Ran Zhen finally let out a deep breath, still shaken.

 

To his left, Huo Yanji acted as if nothing had happened and was already checking on the doctor.

 

Shui Ming looked up. “His abdomen was pierced by a stalagmite, but it looks like it missed the intestines and organs. The bleeding isn’t too bad, and he’s done some emergency bandaging himself.”

 

They were now on the inner side at the bottom of the rift—there’s no way he could have fallen here. The doctor must have walked over on his own.

 

Shui Ming had seen the list of community residents and knew this man was Ah Qin’s father.

 

He tried to wake him. “Doctor? Doctor?”

 

After a while, the doctor slowly opened his eyes, momentarily confused.

 

He hesitated. “Where is this?”

 

Huo Yanji’s eyes flickered. “This is Rift No. 2. Where did you come from?”

 

The doctor shook his head to clear it, then pointed. “That way. Ah Qin… Ah Qin is there too…”

 

Shui Ming quickly asked, “She’s still alive? Is there anyone else besides her?”

 

The doctor nodded. “There are others who are alive.”

 

Shui Ming didn’t look happy at this news—his face actually darkened.

 

He looked at Huo Yanji. “Sir, Ah Qin was in the second-to-last vehicle. If that car fell down here, our whole convoy might not have survived.”

 

Huo Yanji clearly expected this; his expression didn’t change at all.

 

“Speak plainly.”

 

Shui Ming hesitated, then gritted his teeth. “We had fourteen vehicles in total. Ten were left by Adjutant Leon. Not only were the drivers switched out, but we also encountered an explosion on the road. That can’t be a coincidence.”

 

Huo Yanji shot him a cold glance. “Are you accusing General Huo Jiangmian of trying to murder me?”

 

Shui Ming fell silent.

 

It was entirely possible: the ambiguous list, General Huo Jiangmian’s obsession with the Governor, and the fact that he’d known the Governor’s location for a long time but hadn’t wiped him out—choosing instead to keep tormenting his enemy…

 

From an outsider’s perspective, Bo Qing’s fate years ago was certainly tragic, but in the past decade, weren’t the boys tortured to death by the Governor just as pitiful?

 

##

 

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