Chapter 73

Half an hour later, the other three arrived at the Warfallen Asylum Gray Building. That building had plenty of mental patients, so they met in a quiet corner with few people around. Wen Yu did not come.

Inside the corner, the cluttered noises faded a lot, and the numerous prying eyes were thus blocked off.

“To be honest, this is my first time doing something like this. I’m a bit nervous.” Han Ya rubbed his hands, took the item Horne handed him, and examined it in his hand for a long time. “What is this?”

A mask.

Hels had liked making these little handmade gadgets since he was a child. Horne did not know where he got such enthusiasm, but this was the first time he had brought out a mask.

A silicone-molded human skin mask, somewhat thick, but the face was painted so realistically that it sent chills down one’s spine just holding it.

Han Ya shuddered and nearly threw the mask away. He said warily, “I suspect you’re some kind of perverted serial killer.”

Hels shrugged and took a step to the side, standing behind Horne.

“You little brat, don’t drag us down.” Han Ya warned him.

Many people at the Warfallen Asylum knew Horne, and Hels had stayed there for a month before. If they ran into someone who recognized his face, it would cause unnecessary trouble, so Hels had suggested this.

With the mask on his face, the seams were still visible up close, but at normal social distances, no difference could be seen.

Four faces that would blend into the crowd without drawing a second glance.

“Where is Wen Yu?” Ben Yian asked.

Horne said, “She doesn’t need to come.”

Ben Yian did not doubt Horne’s arrangements. They just needed to act like they belonged there.

“I’ve sent you the floor plan for the 15th floor and part of the 16th.” Ben Yian said in a low voice.

The 15th floor was the territory of the severe mental patients, with not many people around. The lab was on the 16th floor, but Ben Yian had never seen the full layout of the 16th, so he could not draw a complete floor plan and could only infer based on the 15th floor’s structure.

“There’s a nurses’ station on the 15th floor with one regular security guard. To pass through the 15th floor and reach the stairs to the 16th, we have to go by the nurses’ station. We need to deal with the people there.” Ben Yian explained to them.

Horne studied the map carefully, confirming the positions and directions of all the key points.

The 15th floor was still a ward level, with windows on all sides, so they did not need to get hands-on.

Ben Yian continued, “The good news for us is that after the nurses’ station, there’s no one until the 16th floor. The upper lab area is kept secret year-round, and posting too many guards would draw attention, which works in our favor. But right after the door on the 16th floor is the guard station. When I went today, there were about five people; at night, there might be at least two. I’m not sure, but they’re all retired military turned security, each carrying an ordinary gun and a laser gun at all times. Their combat ability is not low. That’s about it.”

Horne nodded lightly and double-checked the known parts of the 16th floor: right after entering was a narrow, long corridor with no windows, and the guards were at the door. That meant once they opened it, they would be in close-quarters combat until they reached the lab monitoring area Ben Yian mentioned, which had windows. But that was nothing to worry about. After all, tonight these security guards were facing a colonel from the Military District, along with his deputy and former deputy.

“Good,” Horne said. “We’ll play it by ear tonight.”

The mad aura of the Warfallen Asylum was soon enveloped by the setting sun, turning into the deathly silence of night.

At midnight, everything quieted down, except for the howling wind outside that began to wail as the temperature dropped.

The nights in Loch City were always like this, with a huge temperature difference from the daytime. A layer of white frost spread across the glass, and water dripped down near the heated windows.

“Plip.” The sound was especially clear.

The Gray Building’s elevator only went up to the 15th floor. The lab was on the 16th, requiring them to unlock the stairs from there. There were no cameras in the elevator, which Ben Yian had already confirmed beforehand.

The elevator rose straight up and reached the 15th floor. The moment the doors opened, four figures darted out nimbly and quickly vanished into the darkness.

A slender corridor. The main lights were off, leaving only a few lamps to light the way. It was eerily quiet here, with the occasional flicker of the incandescent bulbs revealing the window at the end, beyond which was a thick, almost dripping night.

The window was not fully closed, and the wind whistled through.

Ben Yian brought up the rear and confirmed with them once more, “Are we really going up?” A hint of worry laced his tone.

Han Ya said boldly, “We’re already here. Let’s just do it.”

“Good.”

“Keep it down.” Horne said in a low voice.

The farther they went, the darker it became.

He had never been to this side either, so everything required caution.

After exiting the elevator hall, they followed the right side. After a very short distance, there was a corner with faint light leaking from it.

“I’ll go check.” Horne told the others to stay put, then crept over quietly, pressed against the wall, and slowly peered around the corner.

A nurses’ station with a bright reading lamp on. A nurse sat there, head buried in her work.

They were lucky; the security guard’s patrol route happened to be close to the nurse, so their positions overlapped.

To restrict their movements, they needed to lure them toward the north-facing windows—the direction they were in.

Horne retreated and quietly briefed the others on the situation.

Han Ya patted his chest. “What’s hard about this?”

With that, he pulled out his gun and smashed the window behind him with the butt.

“Crash!” The huge sound of shattering glass.

Ben Yian’s face changed instantly.

“Who’s there?!” A startled shout.

The silence of the entire floor shattered in an instant.

Horne had not expected Han Ya’s method to be so direct.

Hurried footsteps approached rapidly. A shadow flashed on the wall at the corner and vanished. Immediately, a figure rushed out from the corner.

The security guard appeared on the inner side of the corner. He had just taken a step forward when a cold glint flashed, and he collapsed instantly.

“What happened?” Right away, another voice came from inside—the nurse had noticed something off and asked, but no one answered.

“Security?” The woman’s voice clearly trembled with fear.

Horne hid at the elevator door, holding his breath and blocking the two behind him, signaling them to stay silent. Han Ya stood at the other end, completely still.

Realizing something was wrong but getting no response, the nurse slowly stood up.

The light and walls projected her every move under the gaze of the four.

She walked over slowly. The moment she rounded the corner, the same method—a chilling white light—and she collapsed on the spot.

Horne breathed a sigh of relief and stepped out.

“Are they… dead?” Ben Yian asked.

“No, just tranquilizer. They’ll think they were just too tired and dozed off.” Horne answered him. Of course, he would choose the least harmful method.

With the corridor cleared, they headed right toward the stairwell. Ben Yian led the way, following the route he had memorized that day, confirming no one else was on this floor’s corridor.

They had not gone two steps when everyone froze.

“Did you hear that sound?” Han Ya said quietly, looking back.

A faint singing voice drifted from the other end of the corridor, too abrupt in the night. It echoed layer upon layer around the corridor, reaching everyone’s ears clearly.

Horne glanced back too. That was the restroom area, but the long corridor stretched dozens of meters, with no lights on far ahead, so they could not see the situation there. The singing was like wind blowing straight at them—felt but unseen.

“Probably a patient who came out.” Horne lowered his voice. “Let’s hurry up.”

Han Ya pinched his throat, producing an extremely unnatural tone. “There aren’t any cowards among us, right?”

No one responded. He rolled his eyes.

Not only the distance, but the light ahead was dim too, enough only to make out the path underfoot. No one saw his eye roll.

They followed the route to the stairwell. Ben Yian pushed open the door with a “creak”—the sharp grind of metal on the door crack. He immediately paused, making sure the sound drew no reaction, then slowly pushed it open. Horne went in first, followed by Hels and Han Ya.

Entering the stairwell, the decor changed completely. Pure black, with only red safety markers glowing faintly on the floor—weak enough to light just the ground beside them. Under the red light, the floor looked blood-soaked and rough, striped with horizontal grids fading downward layer by layer.

“Click.” The door shut behind them.

“Holy shit.” Han Ya cursed in fright, and the sound echoed deep into the vast space—this was the reverb of an enormous area.

Soon, the crimson light was replaced by white. Horne turned on his flashlight and swept it around. He had just taken a step when a “clang” rang out underfoot. He frowned, shone the light down, and held his breath.

The materials in the stairwell were completely different from the ward area. The design here was downright bizarre.

He had never seen stairs like this before.

Iron stairs formed into huge horizontal and vertical lattice grids, riddled with serrations and holes. The iron was long rusted, showing mottled crimson, with deep brown and red alternating.

The flashlight beam pierced downward through countless grids, plummeting tens of meters to the depths, plunging into pitch darkness. The darkness rose back up, carrying the thick stench of alcohol and the rot from long-stagnant air straight to the nose.

If the light were bright enough, one could almost see the ground floor from the top.

“It was like this when I came today.” Ben Yian said quietly. He had been startled by the stairs too and thought for a moment he had entered some other world. But during the day, the stairs had lights, which brought a different kind of fear—hardly friendly for anyone with a fear of heights.

Woody had even told him back then that first-timers always got spooked.

A slight step produced “clang, clang” sounds like hammering iron from the metal floor.

Horne gripped the flashlight tightly and slowly swept its beam across the stairwell.

The walls were a dilapidated dark yellow, as if weathered by a century without renovation. Dense black spots covered them, filthy enough to turn the stomach.

How could they work in an environment like this?

Hels moved to Horne’s side, close to him, and whispered in his ear, “Are you scared?”

Horne shook his head lightly and gestured upward with the flashlight.

The four proceeded upward cautiously. Every step made the iron floor bend with a groan, echoing back and forth in the vast space, forcing them to be even more careful not to make noise.

“I’m done with this. It’s like something out of a ghost story.” Han Ya and Ben Yian brought up the rear. Han Ya felt a layer of cold sweat on his back.

A metal door barred the top of the stairs. Its gray-gold sheen clashed with the stairwell’s decrepit uniformity. Above the door was a surveillance camera, its lens center sporting a tiny hole so small it was invisible except by appearance—the camera had been sabotaged.

“How was that done?” Han Ya looked up at the camera, puzzled. Wasn’t this their first time here? Who had damaged it? As he pondered, he glanced back. Directly across from the door was a small window.

“What do you think?” Horne smiled and countered.

“Oh.” Han Ya said. He squinted at the camera and understood. “Wen Yu’s homemade nano bullet. You two came this afternoon?”

“No need to have come.”

Ben Yian stepped forward in two strides and pointed to the center of the metal door. “Right here.” That was the unlock spot, indistinguishable to the naked eye; he had only known because he saw Woody do it.

Horne took out the key fob, glanced back at the others, and saw them all nod lightly before slowly approaching the scanner.

The door center lit up. Faint white rings ran in circles, scanning and detecting.

Few people ever came to the Gray Building anyway, and those here were mostly residents. The higher up, the fewer people—and the more severe the conditions.

The setup here seemed designed to block these patients. Anyone with severe mental illness would probably have a breakdown in a place like this.

Horne’s hand hovered as he thought. Then, the door’s recognition completed.

[Scan successful.]

[You Wangwang.]

Han Ya was stunned for an instant, his throat tightening, but he kept his voice down. “Old man You gave you this?”

Horne chuckled lightly. “As if.”

Not on the family registry? He’d make his own book. Not buried in the ancestral grave? He’d raise his own mound.

He had been a bit nervous back then.

The door slid open with a hiss, releasing a rush of heated mechanical scent—and along with it, a sharp gaze.

Almost immediately, the two security guards at the door station saw something was off. With a shout, Han Ya drew his knife and charged in.

Horne followed closely behind. At the instant the attack came, he grabbed the opponent’s arm with a backhand move and, following the momentum, smashed him to the ground.

“Intruders…” Before he could finish, Horne choked his throat and forcibly cut off the rest of his words.

In a few seconds, the two quickly took down the security guards and made them lie face down on the ground, completely powerless to resist.

Han Ya pressed down on one of them and asked in a low voice, “Did you bring rope? Tie them up.”

Restricting the security guards’ mobility was enough. The four of them wore masks, so their real identities couldn’t be recognized.

As he spoke, that security guard struggled to reach out a hand. But his goal wasn’t resistance; it was to press the nearby alarm button.

In that instant, a chilling knife light flashed. A knife swiftly embedded into the back of the security guard’s hand, was instantly pulled out, and then plunged into his throat.

Han Ya’s shocked expression had just appeared when the bloody knife stabbed through another security guard’s temple before being pulled out again.

Hels shook the blood off the knife tip, his face expressionless. All his actions flowed seamlessly together, clean and decisive.

There was no need for the troublesome method of using rope to restrict their mobility. Dead men made the best keepers of secrets.

Han Ya roared in a low voice, “You little brat!”

“Don’t call me that,” Hels irritably cut him off. “Dragging your feet.”

Horne frowned as he looked at Hels but said nothing, his expression gloomy.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on such things.

The four of them temporarily stashed the corpses in the guard room and sneaked back out. Ben Yian closed the metal door last.

The layout of the entire floor came into view. Like the one below, it was lined with countless rooms. The one Ben Yian had visited today was just one of them—a lab monitoring room. Woody had taken him there only to prove the reliability of their experiments.

That room was their target. They needed the data and evidence inside.