Chapter 6: A Gift Wrapped in Darkness Unraveled…

Xie Jianxun woke up to the faint glow of a small emergency light. Everything else around him was pitch black.

He lay sprawled haphazardly inside the landship, his head lolled to one side and his legs draped over the backrest, like a fish flipped every which way in a frying pan.

The surroundings were eerily quiet, so still that he could hear his own breathing.

“Huo Jing… Huo Jing?!”

Xie Jianxun called out softly, but his voice was muffled by most of the protective glass.

He rubbed his head and carefully adjusted his position, not daring to move too much.

His mind was a foggy mess. After all, he had fallen from a height, leaving him dizzy and disoriented… Wait, fallen from a height?

Fuzzy memories gradually resurfaced, and it took him a while to piece together what had happened.

He remembered that Huo Jing had gone to the oasis and hadn’t returned for half a day. The longer he waited, the more worried he became.

After weighing his options, Xie Jianxun decided against charging straight into the oasis recklessly. Instead, he planned to drive a bit closer to observe the situation there before deciding on his next move.

He twisted the key like Huo Jing had done, without stepping on the accelerator, and slowly inched the landship forward while keeping one foot firmly welded to the brake—just in case he floored it by accident.

Then the sandstorm hit.

The sandstorm engulfed his vision entirely, and even his shouts were effortlessly swallowed by the wind.

The landship’s protective glass rose up, shielding him from the blowing sand.

After that, the landship wouldn’t move anymore. Perhaps it had veered off course at some point. By the time Xie Jianxun realized it, he noticed they were sinking bit by bit.

Along with the landship, he was slowly swallowed into the ground.

He didn’t know how to deactivate the protective glass. He pressed every visible button, but nothing worked. He also had no idea how to escape from the landship. Then, the ground gave way beneath them, and the massive hamster ball was completely engulfed by the sand, plummeting deep underground.

He must have bumped his head, because he lost consciousness after that.

Xie Jianxun: “…”

Ah! What kind of fated unlucky bastard was he?!

Xie Jianxun clutched his aching head. His ears still buzzed, and his mind wasn’t clear.

He activated his light brain, but there was still no signal.

Xie Jianxun tentatively twisted the key. The landship obligingly vibrated and hummed for two seconds… then went as quiet as a mouse.

No matter how many times he tried after that, it stayed dead, putting on a perfect show of playing possum online.

His gaze fell on the protective glass, where the reflection showed his own face. With the dim light from his light brain’s flashlight, he barely made out a narrow tunnel outside. The depths were shrouded in darkness, like the maw of an abyss.

Thump thump. Xie Jianxun heard his heartbeat and the rush of blood surging through his body.

In such profound quiet, the deepest fears buried in one’s heart inevitably stirred.

Xie Jianxun stared silently for a moment, then reached out to grope along the protective glass.

The light brain flashlight swept over the landship’s interior, illuminating the key issue.

In his barely calm state, Xie Jianxun discovered that the already damaged guardrail had deformed slightly under the violent shaking, jamming the protective glass in place.

That was why the descent button did nothing. He needed another way out.

Finally, he found a small nail hammer stuck in the cabin door of the storage compartment.

One hit.

Two hits.

The glass shattered, and sand and stones tumbled in. He coughed as he crawled out of the landship.

His legs shook as he stood on the outer shell, but Xie Jianxun had no time to care.

Calm down, calm down.

He desperately told himself that he was on the verge of being crushed by panic and fear. Since he had gotten in here, there had to be a way out.

Whoosh—

He slid down the shell to the ground and immediately collapsed to his knees, legs gone soft.

The light swayed across the ground as Xie Jianxun stood up and first checked the landship’s condition. Huo Jing hadn’t been wrong—he did have some repair basics. After hammering and tinkering, he found that a critical part had snapped clean in half during the impact. No way to fix it.

Xie Jianxun despaired: “Someone… save me…”

…

The light swept by as the young man in a white hoodie staggered through the tunnel, one hand braced against the wall, glancing back now and then.

His knee seemed scraped, sending pinpricks of pain with every step.

But it was bearable.

Xie Jianxun gritted his teeth and pressed onward. The passage widened, the ground and walls gradually turning from loose sand to hard stone bricks and cement.

Until he squeezed through a gap in a slanted stone pillar, and the space ahead opened up dramatically.

He swept his light brain flashlight upward and held his breath.

It was a sunken underground city.

The outskirts were mostly ruins, but the deeper in he went, the better preserved the buildings were. In the circular central courtyard stood what looked like a towering clock tower.

A faint beam of light from who-knows-where filtered down from the dome overhead, banishing the suffocating darkness!

Light… there was light!

Maybe following the light would lead him to an exit back to the surface!

Something seemed to stir in the darkness, but when Xie Jianxun whipped around in alarm, he only heard the faint rustle of shifting sand.

He took a deep breath and quickened his pace, heading straight for the round courtyard and the tall tower at its center—the tallest structure in this underground city. Maybe from up high, he’d spot something useful.

Next, Xie Jianxun calmly climbed the clock tower’s stairs.

One step, two steps. He reached the final step, looked up, gasped sharply, and staggered back half a pace.

Beneath the tower’s great clock lay the complete body of a bionic person.

His eyes were tightly closed as he lay quietly on the ground in deep slumber. A pure black uniform of unknown make wrapped his frame. His face was handsome, with thick curly hair falling over his forehead—indistinguishable from a real human.

A strange bionic person’s shell.

Xie Jianxun didn’t want to get close. Theoretically, all bionic people came factory-loaded with human-friendly protocols, but this one could be a modified exception.

He tiptoed around it, scanning for any mechanisms that might help him escape.

From the depths of the darkness, that unknown disturbance returned.

This time, it was bolder, crawling out from the shadows and lifting its head toward Xie Jianxun.

Xie Jianxun leaned out from the tower’s edge and swept his light brain flashlight downward. His heart skipped a beat—

Black tentacles, countless legs, ferocious mouthparts, a carapace caked in sand… Insect Clan straight out of a textbook lived here!

Several Insect Clan burrowed out of the sand, drawn by the rare scent of a living human. They gathered at the tower’s base, rearing up on forelimbs to climb.

More and more came, the disturbance clarifying into the sound of bugs scraping sand and calling companions.

Soon, they would swarm up the tower stairs!

Pretty ash-gray hair draped at his cheek. Xie Jianxun paused silently, then swiftly undid the bionic person’s uniform buttons, searching for the power switch.

Button by button, the jacket fell open, revealing a crisp white shirt beneath.

With unpracticed hands, he reached inside and felt the power button at the heart position.

He pressed it. No response.

Xie Jianxun: “…”

He ground his teeth in annoyance and switched tactics, unbuttoning the shirt as well.

The bionic person’s snow-white chest was exposed—collarbones, pecs, firm abs, the V-line, a smooth and supple shell sprawled amid the pile of clothing, like a precious gift freshly unwrapped by someone’s hands.

But Xie Jianxun had no mind to admire it.

He pulled tools from his light brain’s storage space and pried open the chest panel, confirming the energy stone compartment was empty.

That meant waking this bionic person required just a single energy stone.

Xie Jianxun didn’t hesitate. He turned off the light brain flashlight, removed his wristwatch, and pried out the light brain’s energy stone from the back. Without recharging, the watch would be limited to basic functions—no holographic screen.

In an instant, darkness swallowed everything.

Even with his hands shaking uncontrollably, he had to finish the job.

His hands still trembled as he cursed under his breath: “Shake shake shake, what’s there to shake about! You gonna save yourself by shaking?!”

He lifted one leg, pressing his knee into the bionic person’s abdomen for stability, pinpointed the energy compartment with his kneecap, and shoved in the spare light brain energy stone.

Blind in the pitch black.

Every move relied on textbook knowledge and his scant experience. Luckily, he’d studied diligently and remembered it well.

He snapped the panel shut and stepped back two paces.

Xie Jianxun was still young and had no idea how to deal with these creepy things.

But if he was right, this bionic person lay here to guard against the Insect Clan revived from the desert.

He won the bet.

As the bugs reached the tower top, waving pincers at Xie Jianxun, the bionic person opened his eyes.

An azure flame ignited—the glow from his weapon.

He rose silently and drew his blade.

Flames clung to the edge, hot enough to melt any Insect Clan carapace. One swing cleaved through all the bugs lunging at Xie Jianxun.

Xie Jianxun squeezed his eyes shut. The blade’s glow pierced his eyelids, illuminating everything around.

Half a minute later, the disturbance vanished completely.

He wearily opened his eyes to find the bionic person standing before him, face calm and heroic, with a sharp edge in his brows from slaughtering countless bugs.

He was half a head taller than Xie Jianxun, nearly 1.9 meters by eye, with broad shoulders and curly hair veiling one eye.

He seemed puzzled himself.

“Did you wake me?”

The bionic person’s voice was low and husky, yet gentlemanly. “My apologies. My program failed to self-diagnose the timer issue, or this batch of Insect Clan wouldn’t have revived.”

“I just guessed you’d have a way to exterminate them.”

As he spoke, Xie Jianxun had to crane his neck up. The bionic person noticed and his lips twitched slightly.

The next second, he dropped to one knee, now looking up.

His gaze was clear: “Is this more comfortable for you?”

Xie Jianxun: “…………”

Xie Jianxun: “No no no, no need! Please stand, get up—thank you, please stand!”

The bionic person tilted his head docilely and suddenly gave him a smile.

He said: “As the first human to wake me, you deserve my special treatment.”

…

At the tower base, the fine grit of shifting sand had ceased.

Seeing Xie Jianxun walk with difficulty, the bionic person asked if he needed help.

Xie Jianxun thought he meant a hand and nodded carelessly.

Until the bionic person lowered his head and scooped him up in a princess carry, descending the stairs steadily step by step. Only then did he realize something was wrong.

“This way is faster and prevents Insect Clan ambushes.” Facing Xie Jianxun’s frantic struggles, he explained.

Xie Jianxun: “…”

He wailed in despair: “At least button up first!!!”