Chapter Nineteen: The Fateful Pact (Part Two)

The landscape around them began to change; it was no longer the monotonous wasteland it once was. Rocks and patches of scrub now dotted the scenery. In the far distance, the outlines of mountains could be faintly seen. Though the vegetation was not lush, it was still better than barren hills.

According to Laili, the Domed Fishery was nestled in the embrace of those mountains. At the entrance, a massive granite dome had been constructed, giving the fishery its name.

The closer they drew to the Domed Fishery, the more signs of human activity appeared along the roadside. Abandoned tents and water buckets lay scattered everywhere, along with numerous discarded vehicles—some rusted through, others seemingly left only recently. It was clear evidence of the fishery’s thriving trade.

“Boss...” Tang Suan, now in the back seat, suddenly spoke up timidly, tapping Zheng Nanfang on the shoulder. “Is... is that Sister Hong’s car?”

Following Tang Suan’s gaze, Zheng Nanfang looked out to the left. Not far off the roadside, beneath a collapsed shed, the tail end of a bright red car jutted out.

Laili, ever considerate, stopped the car and asked, “Want to take a look?”

Zheng Nanfang nodded, pushed open the door, and stepped out. Hu Bi and Shu Yangcong from the car behind also got out, along with several other small-time leaders from the hospital. It seemed everyone recognized Hong Xiangcai’s vehicle.

By now, dusk had fallen. The surroundings were no longer as desolate as before—here, the scene resembled a chaotic marketplace, strewn with all manner of discarded junk.

The hospital’s gunmen quickly raised their weapons in alert. Zheng Nanfang and Hu Bi approached the shed with guns and knives drawn, ensuring there was no danger before moving closer to the red car and calling others over to clear the debris from it.

The roof of the Red Bird had been caved in by a fallen wooden beam. The front windshield was shattered, and the driver’s door hung open. On the seat, dried blood was visible—not much, but stark and conspicuous.

“Sister Hong’s in trouble,” Tang Suan gasped, hand over mouth, as if unable to believe it.

Yet Zheng Nanfang found it rather odd. He had Shu Yangcong shine a flashlight on the seat and reached out to touch the dried blood, frowning. “She left barely ten minutes before us, right?”

“About that, and we never caught up with her on the way,” Tang Suan confirmed.

Zheng Nanfang’s brows knit tighter. “But this blood has been dry for a long time.”

Hu Bi circled the car, then snorted, “This isn’t Hong Xiangcai’s car.”

“Huh?”

Hu Bi pointed to the hood. “Remember how we got jumped in Dead City? The Red Bird took the brunt—rocks, javelins, the works. Look at this car—there’s not even a scratch on the hood.” He yawned, bored. “You’re all too jumpy. It’s not like Hong Xiangcai is the only one with this car.”

Only then did Tang Suan and the others realize their overreaction. They all breathed a sigh of relief, inwardly chiding themselves for being so on edge, and returned to their vehicles. Hu Bi was halfway back when he noticed Zheng Nanfang still crouched by the car door, lost in thought.

“Hey, let’s go.”

Startled, Zheng Nanfang stood and walked over. As he reached Hu Bi’s side, Hu Bi noticed his expression had grown even more grave.

“What’s wrong?” Hu Bi asked.

Zheng Nanfang hesitated, unsure how to begin. After a pause, he spoke quietly, “Others might have this car, but there’s only one Deep Blue Hospital, right?”

Hu Bi narrowed his eyes, sensing Zheng Nanfang had discovered something. “Go on.”

“There’s a white lab coat in the back seat,” Zheng Nanfang said, clicking his tongue with a wry smile. “What a coincidence. The other person with this car is also a doctor?”

Hu Bi was speechless for a moment, clearly baffled by the situation. “But... but didn’t you just say the blood’s been dry for a long time?”

“Yes.” Zheng Nanfang nodded. “The blood has been there a while, and as you pointed out, the car’s body shows no damage.”

“Then? What are you saying?” Hu Bi felt his mind spinning.

Zheng Nanfang shook his head. “I don’t know. I just have a very bad feeling.”

...

“Hey! Let’s go! It’ll be dark soon!” Laili leaned out the window of the lead car, calling to the two of them.

Zheng Nanfang and Hu Bi exchanged glances, said nothing more, and walked back to their respective vehicles.

...

On the outskirts of Dead City, the Hoarse Manor squad.

After surviving the afternoon ambush, the survivors from Hoarse Manor dared not pass through Dead City again. Forced to take a rougher path, they skirted the city’s edge in a wide arc, only returning to the highway as the sun set.

Laili’s convoy had only spared them one vehicle. Over a dozen people split into two groups: one would walk ahead and rest at a certain spot, then the vehicle would return to shuttle the others. Back and forth they went, and by the time they rejoined the highway, the car was out of gas. With more than two hundred li left to go, it was clear they’d be walking the rest of the way.

The young boy was surrounded by gunmen as they trudged through the desolate night highway, their group resembling a band of lost souls.

“How long will we have to walk?” the boy panted, struggling to keep up.

“Hang in there. We saw plenty of abandoned cars earlier—maybe we’ll find one that works,” the lead gunman reassured him.

The boy sighed, knowing it was only meant for comfort, but powerless to change anything. In these days of scarce resources, vehicles were easy to come by, but parts and fuel were hard to find.

They marched on for over half an hour before the lead scout, sweating and breathless, came running back.

“There’s something up ahead!” he called out to the lead gunman. “Lots of bodies.”

The lead gunman’s face hardened. He quickly ordered everyone on alert. “Who are they?”

“I didn’t get a close look—they’re all over the road. I thought I’d better warn you first.”

“Let’s check it out.” Swapping magazines, the lead gunman handed the boy to the others and hurried forward with four or five advance scouts.

Night had fully fallen. The moon hid behind clouds; wind swept the highway, carrying a heavy scent of blood.

The scout’s warning was no exaggeration. Ten or so meters ahead, the broad road was strewn with bodies, all dressed like undercity outcasts. Blood pooled in streams, flowing to the low ground. The air still carried the acrid tang of gunpowder—a brutal battle had taken place here.

The lead gunman ordered the group to spread out and check the corpses. He himself followed the blood’s edge into the carnage, his flashlight’s weak beam flickering over the scene, a growing sense of familiarity gnawing at him.

“Boss!” the scout called out.

The lead gunman turned to see the scout waving something at him from afar. Hurrying over, he slipped in a patch of blood, nearly falling. He caught himself, only to find his hand pressed against a corpse—soft flesh beneath his palm.

He steadied himself and looked down, only to realize he had pressed upon a woman’s chest. Cursing inwardly, he tried to laugh it off—until his flashlight swept over her face.

Laili’s face was white as paper, eyes wide open, a single bloody hole in her brow like a third eye, staring fixedly up at him.

...

Central region, main building of a certain experimental zone.

Meng Chang burst into the conference room in a panic, but before he could speak, the security guards on either side fired their Mauser stun guns, leaving half his body numb and paralyzed.

By the time Meng Chang came to, he found himself locked in a detention cell. The room contained nothing but a bed and a toilet.

“What do you want from me? I’m a member of the Hive research group from the undercity! On what grounds do you lock me up without explanation?” Utterly unprepared for his predicament, Meng Chang, after a brief moment of shock, roared his frustration at the surveillance camera in the corner.

The camera’s signal light flickered, then an electronically synthesized male voice came through.

“You are not anymore.”

Meng Chang paused, then shouted angrily, “Who are you? I want to speak to the head of the expert group!”

“You violated the clearance protocols, accessed files beyond your authorization, and attempted to make a report above your rank, disregarding the laboratory’s operational regulations. On top of that, you broke into the executive meeting today... The assessment team has determined you are unsuitable for the research group, and we require further evaluation of your mental state.”

The emotionless electronic voice sent Meng Chang plummeting into despair.

He slumped onto the bed, eyes glazed, muttering to himself for a while before whispering, “I wasn’t the one who broke the rules—you were.”

“You will undergo a thirty-day evaluation here. You will be notified of the outcome afterward.”

The synthesized voice had no intention of further conversation. The signal light flickered once more, then fell silent.

Meng Chang lay back on the cot, brow deeply furrowed, replaying the blurred photos and the enigmatic word—“Rift”—from that file over and over in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more wrong it seemed.

In truth, when he’d reviewed the file, he hadn’t given it much thought—just curiosity led him to briefly consult with a higher-ranking researcher. But the overreaction from the other side had made his nerves prickle with suspicion.

The public knew little about the Hive, but insiders like him were well aware that the Hive was nothing like the official narrative of a “gift from nature”—it was a veritable Pandora’s Box.

Since the first Hive’s appearance, tens of thousands had died, not to mention the countless extraordinary disasters triggered by the unpredictable nature of various Hives.

If a single Hive could be so terrifying, what of the so-called “Hive Trench”—the Rift?

What especially baffled Meng Chang was that the file had clearly come from below, yet for some reason, it vanished after reaching the high-authority research group.

How could such a major matter not be reported to the parent company?

The company took the Hive extremely seriously: every Hive was to be destroyed if possible—if not, it would be sealed off for deep research. Yet this immeasurable “Rift” had somehow slipped through the cracks.

Thinking of the research team’s reaction and the incident in the conference room, Meng Chang knew he had stepped on a forbidden line.

To be honest, despite his curiosity, Meng Chang valued his life far more. At this point, he feared most for his own survival. If the assessment team decided he had become a liability, execution would be his only fate.

Clutching his head in agony, pressing it hard to his knees, he forced out a desperate whisper: “I don’t want to die... Please... save me...”