Chapter 75

A few steps from the door. Hels took the first step forward, blocking in front of Horne.

“Who?”

No one came in. There were no footsteps. The entire room was so quiet that even breathing could not be heard.

No one spoke.

Hels still held Horne’s hand with one hand. During those still seconds, he alternately tapped Horne’s palm a few times with his thumb and forefinger.

—Stay here and wait for me.

Horne frowned and quickly tapped back a response.

—Refuse.

Hels paused for a moment but could only nod.

Outside the door stretched a corridor like a black hole, so silent it nearly caused tinnitus.

Hels moved step by step toward the door. The instant he neared the doorway, he drew his knife, swiftly rolled out, and vanished into the darkness like a deathly abyss.

Horne held his breath. His knife spun once in his palm, preparing for any possible emergencies that might arise next. He glanced back at the two inside. Han Ya and Ben Yian nodded lightly in unison, holding their breaths.

Outside was a deep corridor. To the right lay the path they had just come from, permeated by the dark red glow of the guard station. The other end held several closed doors.

After an extremely slow breath, the figures of the two completely vanished into the darkness.

Their footsteps were very light. The faint sounds spread from the monitoring room to the nearest door. Hels led the way, with his flashlight dimmed to the lowest, barely illuminating the path.

He raised his hand to the doorknob, shining the flashlight’s beam obliquely through the gap.

A sticky smell assaulted them. The moment Horne entered, he frowned. It was like the scorched scent of protein steamed at high heat and then cooled, mixed with disinfectant, metal, and mud.

Horne’s palm gripped his wrist, receiving the signal Hels passed over.

—Follow me.

The floor was pure white, with uncleaned footprints on it. The light slowly moved from the doorway ground upward, revealing the full scene.

A long laboratory, with a lower ceiling than the corridor. Over a dozen culture tanks lined the walls, black viscous water churning inside, bubbling like a sewer’s regurgitation, with muffled sounds.

The narrow flashlight beam shifted, cutting through patches of black pool water suspended with human remains. Along two walls clung several half-dissolved patches of human skin tissue.

Horne quickened his pace and took a step forward, grabbing the flashlight from Hels and tapping his hand a few times.

—Don’t look.

Hels smiled silently.

Did Horne really think he was scared?

With the flashlight, Horne moved ahead, scanning the room. Aside from mechanical operations, there were no other sounds.

They backed out and went to the next room.

The smell was similar, but this room held only one culture dish, soaking an almost complete male body. He hugged himself like a newborn infant.

His facial features were young, eyes closed. His left arm was severed at the shoulder, exposing abnormally smooth tendons and fibers at the break. But what drew attention was another severance on his back—six openings where alien wing bones protruded.

Unclear if flesh had been artificially carved out or if it grew naturally after mutation.

The flashlight beam shone into the misty water. Horne approached to examine the back slits, but at that moment, the male’s eyelids suddenly twitched.

He opened his eyes.

Horne jerked back, his back slamming into a chest.

Hels immediately pulled Horne behind him, staring warily at the creature inside.

The male merely opened his eyes—no pupils, just a white light film. He stared at the two outside the culture dish, his body rigid without any extra movement.

Not alive, but for some reason, it had opened its eyes.

After confirming the thing posed no threat, Horne slowly relaxed.

—Next one.

Each room had a similar setup. Some culture dishes held dismembered limbs, some complete bodies, some empty, even one with dissected aliens.

Only in the last room did Horne see the culture dish from the monitors.

The human head soaked in solution, floating face-down, slowly rotating—from chin to nose bridge to eye sockets… turning gradually.

Horne did not want to get too close. Hels tugged his arm and whispered, “No one. Let’s go back.”

They had only come out to check the earlier noise. Now, reaching the last room with no anomalies proved it was just an untimely coincidence, perhaps a door not fully closed due to a tilted frame.

Horne softly “mm”ed, his gaze still fixed on the head.

The eyes were open, facial lines young and undeformed, just hollow sockets, skin translucent bluish, lips slightly parted as if to speak.

“Brother.” Hels called again.

Horne glanced over and turned.

The whole floor held no anomalies. They quickly returned to the initial experimental monitoring room. Seeing Han Ya and Ben Yian seated at the far end upon entering, Horne breathed a light sigh of relief and continued checking the computer monitors.

Hels walked to his side and naturally took his hand again.

“Plip.”

Ben Yian at the far end looked up toward Horne and Hels, saw their action, stunned for a moment, then gritted his teeth and said in a low voice, “Nothing wrong?”

Horne: “Nothing.”

Ben Yian felt puzzled. “Alright, I’ve wanted to ask since earlier—did you hear any water sounds?”

Horne had heard it. The sound had persisted since they entered and continued ringing. He naturally assumed it was some mechanical operation or condensation from indoor-outdoor temperature differences.

As he spoke, another “plip” dripped down.

This drop landed squarely in front of Horne, shattering on his half-leaning desk, right between him and the screen.

Horne looked down at the drop. Under the screen’s faint light, tiny white flecks inside were clearly visible.

Horne instantly stiffened. He turned on his flashlight, slowly shining it at the wall level with him, then gradually upward.

The beam widened slowly, dust swirling.

“Plip.”

A drop fell through the beam, smashing on the ground.

Horne held his breath, gradually straightening the flashlight.

The ceiling soared ten meters high.

They had not checked it upon entering.

Under the flashlight, all four clearly saw the thing coiled above.

Their faces all changed.

An alien.

Alive.

“Fuck!” Han Ya cursed outright.

The instant it was spotted, one alien detached from the ceiling and dove toward the light source, so fast it happened in the blink of an eye.

Horne shoved Hels away. The two flashed in opposite directions.

“Bang!”

The alien’s mouth stabbed straight into the floor, emitting a crisp impact.

The next second, it yanked its mouth out and lunged at Horne.

Horne gripped his knife, expression stern. The instant the alien thrust, he slashed without hesitation, severing part of the alien’s massive bone frame alive.

Why were there aliens here? Horne’s first thought: They conducted particle experiments here and needed to study aliens, so they had hidden these creatures long ago, coexisting peacefully with the humans.

Even serving as guards.

No wonder, no wonder! Their smooth entry—all that aside from the gate lock and regular security, almost no obstructions after.

They weren’t worried about discovery. Even if found, no one would leave alive!

Horne whipped his head around. “Han Ya, cover Ben Yian in place. How much longer?”

“Five minutes!” Ben Yian said. He stared fixedly at the computer screen, his Resident Chip connected— he couldn’t leave now.

As they spoke, that alien flew upward, diving again toward Horne.

Hels was fast. He rushed over, slashing just in time to block the alien’s thrusting spike.

Couldn’t use the laser gun—too much noise.

In that rigid instant, Hels stabbed his knife into the alien’s head. A screech followed. The next second, Horne quickly followed up from the other side.

As Horne followed up, Hels withdrew his knife and stabbed into the wing bone frame Horne had just severed.

Their coordination was seamless.

Unlike killing humans, aliens had strong regeneration, but it took time. They didn’t need to fight to the death here—just secure the data and restrict the alien’s movements for a set time. Both thought of this simultaneously.

At the far end, Ben Yian’s face paled—unclear if from the screen or their near wordless coordination.

Another screech. Darkness plunged from above.

More aliens on the ceiling!

Before Hels could shout, he was flung away.

“Thud.” His back slammed into the wall several meters off.

Not just one.

“So many? Is this an alien nest?” Han Ya drew his gun but was immediately stopped by Horne.

Horne’s face was cold. While the foe hadn’t regenerated, he twisted his waist and abdomen, leaped onto the desk, and from midair plunged his knife into the head of the alien attacking Hels upon landing.

Hels scrambled up quickly, supplementing Horne’s attacks.

Horne had battled aliens in close combat for nearly a decade, but Hels rarely did so. He only targeted Horne’s attack paths for follow-ups.

With two aliens alternating attacks, each man handled one.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry—how much longer?” Han Ya asked anxiously. He eyed the progress bar on the computer, just past halfway, suppressing the urge to help.

Ben Yian’s lips trembled slightly. “Four minutes!”

“Hels, hold for four minutes!” Horne shouted to him.

The alien Horne had pierced took to the air, carrying him straight upward.

He gripped the hilt tightly, yanked it out viciously, leaped back, hit the ground, and rolled several times, coating himself in dust.

The alien’s sharp claws gouged the floor, leaving scars.

Hels wiped his mouth, closed in leaping, and slashed horizontally. The blade caught in the alien’s wing bone frame. He yanked downward hard—a screech erupted.

The alien’s tail snapped in two.

Under massive stimulus, the alien screeched violently. Its huge wings flapped fiercely, flinging Hels away.

His body hung uncontrollably in the air.

“Crash!” Massive glass shattered.

The alien hurled with savage force, sending Hels straight out the window.

“Hels!!” Horne’s pupils contracted. He flipped up instantly, heedless of volume.

Outside air surged in at once. The lab structure breached, and the entire facility’s alarms blared simultaneously.

“Woo—”

Piercing wails.

Night darkened to blood.

That figure flew out the window. In Horne’s eyes, it paused not half a second before vanishing outside.

His heartbeat seemed to halt abruptly, blood flow stopping in an instant.

This was the 16th floor!!

“Fuck! Fuck!” Han Ya rushed forward, but a fierce wind descended from behind.

More!!

The target was Ben Yian. Han Ya retreated instantly, tore off the nearby computer monitor barehanded, and smashed it onto the alien’s head. The next second, his knife slashed its throat, blocking it from nearing Ben Yian.

Ben Yian’s hands shook as he stared at the progress bar.

“Hurry, faster.” His lips moved faintly.

Horne dashed toward the window.

An attacking swipe whistled through the air. Another assault came blindingly fast, diving straight at Horne.

Rattled, Horne was swept aside, his body arcing through the air.

“Bang”—he smashed into the file cabinet, metal crumpling loudly. Items inside tumbled out, scattering on the floor.

He coughed violently a few times. As he stood, darkness loomed—six wing bones abruptly enlarged in his pupils.

The bone tip pierced Horne’s arm instantly, slamming him back against the wall.

“Ah—” The pain cry barely escaped his throat before clenched teeth blocked it.

His eyes bloodshot, ignoring his own pain entirely, he glared toward the shattered glass.

Beyond the biting wind, the city sky held nothing else.

Impossible, impossible—Hels!

Horne gritted his teeth, expression savagely distorted. His arm throbbed with bulging veins. He erupted with unprecedented strength, wrenching the bone frame from his body barehanded, leaving six mangled bloody holes in his arm.

Blood streamed down. Pain convulsed every nerve. He madly tried to run to the window, but the alien pounced. The scene instantly devolved into chaos.

The alarm blared deafeningly. Ben Yian stared at the screen, muttering continuously, “Two minutes, two minutes.”

The lights in the corridors of the Warfallen Asylum Gray Building lit up one by one. The guards downstairs received the alarm, quickly assembled, and the message was immediately sent to the government.

“Boom—” The desk suffered a heavy blow. Horne was flung against the wall, knocking over countless things along the way. The massive impact made his vision go black.

In that instant, he even forgot to draw his gun. His whole body trembled uncontrollably, and he only wanted to rush to the window. Every step he took was blocked, and the two aliens attacked him together.

It was in that second that he heard the voice coming from high in the sky outside, accompanied by the blaring alarm and the howl of the high-altitude cold wind.

“Horne!”

Horne immediately jumped up from the ground in a panic.

Outside the window, Hels dangled, one hand gripping the edge of the wall tightly. He gritted his teeth, raising his other hand to climb up.

The wind blew the sweat on his forehead. Dozens of meters below his feet lay a dim yellow expanse of fangs.

One could already see the guards breaking through the door downstairs, blue and red lights blending into one chaotic glow.

The aliens seemed to realize that the person who had just been flung out hadn’t fallen. While one wrapped around Horne, the other spread its wings and flew toward the window sill, attempting to deliver the final fatal strike.

Sharp claws protruded from the window, reflecting in Hels’s eyes.

It lunged fiercely at Hels.