Chapter 63: Joining the Black Island Organization

“Kill her?” After reading those nine words, Ji Cheng suddenly understood. No wonder the woman had looked so numb—she had known her fate all along. Now everything made sense, her odd behavior fell into place.

“But I can’t really kill an innocent person just for a spy mission, can I?” Ji Cheng frowned. Black Island, you really don’t miss a trick.

Even though the City Defense Department had crafted their plan to near perfection, Black Island had still set up one final obstacle. No wonder they could declare war on so many city-states and still survive—their vigilance and caution spoke volumes.

The Black Island communicator buzzed again: “Do it. Right now.”

Ji Cheng felt a wave of irritation. Now they were pushing him to the edge. If this was standard procedure, who knew how many people had died in this elevator?

Just then, a harsh clatter of chains sounded from outside the car.

What’s happening?

A prickling sensation swept over Ji Cheng’s back, instinct warning him of danger. He spun around, eyes snapping to where the sound had come from.

A row of gaps appeared in the elevator wall, like a beast baring its teeth. At least ten heavy machine guns emerged, barrels glinting through the slits.

Click.

All barrels were aimed straight at Ji Cheng’s torso.

“This doesn’t look good,” he muttered, cold sweat breaking out across his skin.

Black Island’s intentions were clear: kill the woman and you pass the test, proving yourself one of them. Refuse, and your hesitation marks you as a traitor—you die here.

Those ten laser barrels lay in wait like executioners, ready to tear apart everything inside the elevator. Even with his enhanced abilities, Ji Cheng was still flesh and blood; the protection offered by the Tyrant Serum was paltry at best.

If this were a spacious area, relying on his agility and keen instincts, he might have stood a chance. But in this confined space, at point-blank range, with heavy machine guns spraying indiscriminately—there was no question. Death was certain.

What now?

If he abandoned the spy plan, could he break open the elevator doors with “Regret” and escape?

Ji Cheng’s resolve wavered. He was only here because of Zhou Ze’s request and a promise to Zeng Hang. He had little real interest in becoming a spy. The only thing that tempted him was the possibility of getting his hands on the Tyrant Serum within the organization.

But what use was the serum if it cost him his life?

“Forget it. I’d better pull out,” Ji Cheng thought, taking a deep breath, his muscles tensing like iron.

Wait. There was no smell of blood in the elevator.

Ji Cheng’s mind cleared in an instant.

If every newcomer to Black Island in Nan Harbor was required to kill someone in this elevator, it would be impossible for there to be not the slightest trace of blood.

He drew another breath.

“Yes, there isn’t even a hint of blood,” he thought, recalling his journey here and forming a hypothesis.

He straightened his clothes, slowly moving closer to the woman ahead. His right hand slipped into his pocket, out of sight from the camera positioned at the upper left rear corner.

Without much searching—just brushing the lining—Ji Cheng found what he needed.

A planetary intranet interface module.

This hacking device could access not only the planetary intranet, but nearly any networked equipment. Discreetly, he turned the notification sound to its lowest setting and palmed the eraser-sized module.

Moving behind the woman, he slipped an arm around her neck while pressing the hack button.

—Connection successful. Quick-crack program loaded. Please select buffer zone.

The faintest prompt sounded.

“So she’s an android,” he thought.

Without hesitation, Ji Cheng locked the woman’s neck and twisted. She slumped to the floor, her expression as serene as before.

Even Black Island wouldn’t use a living person as a trial subject in the bustling Fifth Avenue of Silver District. That would be too ostentatious and reckless. Using an android was far more discreet—just a little maintenance afterward and it could be used again, without the hassle of disposing of a corpse.

And since it was an android, likely networked for testing, a little probing was all it took for Ji Cheng to see through the ruse.

The Black Island communicator displayed a message: “Very good. You followed instructions. The organization is not disappointed in you.”

The machine guns silently withdrew, and the elevator rumbled into motion—not upward, but descending.

After about two minutes, the elevator stopped. The overhead light didn’t come on, but the doors slowly slid open. Ji Cheng peered into the darkness.

A silent, pitch-black corridor stretched before him. Judging by the walls, which were built from mortar, concrete, and needle-shaped high-density baryte, this was clearly an underground safehouse.

“Black Island actually built a safehouse under Xinliu Tower?” Ji Cheng was surprised they dared excavate such a thing beneath the heart of the city.

Constructing an underground safehouse was laborious and required precise geological conditions, not to mention the immense engineering challenge. This was city center, bustling with people above—disposing of all the excavated earth alone would be a nightmare.

“Impressive. They certainly have money to burn.”

Ji Cheng followed the corridor and soon saw a man standing against the wall.

“New recruit, right?”

The man’s manner was polite, but the coldness and distrust in his bones were unmistakable, though well hidden.

“Yes. Could you tell me where I should go?” Ji Cheng asked.

The man didn’t answer, merely pushed and pulled on the wall behind him, revealing a hidden door.

With a clang, a hall was revealed.

Magnesium lamps spun slowly from the ceiling, casting shifting lights over the crowd below and the walls around. Bloodstained banknotes covered the walls; the floor was thick with camel-hair carpet, whose intricate weave and plush softness spoke of luxury.

Strangely, the hall was utterly silent.

“We’re having a party.”

“Ah, impressive,” Ji Cheng replied awkwardly, glancing at the frenzied, embracing crowd. “The silver content is… quite high.”

A tall, lean figure emerged from the shadows.

“Ji Cheng.”

The newcomer held a crystal ice cream cup, wore only a fine leather belt, and a black mask inlaid with gold beads.

From the scent, the cup contained a mixture of milk and fresh human blood.

“I am Thorn,” the figure announced, gesturing toward the wild crowd behind.

“Don’t be surprised. Most members here have undergone biological experiments—Tyrant Serum or similar. Didn’t you mention feeling a bit unstable yourself?”

Ji Cheng was taken aback by the voice.

A woman? That’s unexpected.

“Yes, I have felt a bit… unbalanced.”

“What kind of symptoms?” Thorn’s eyes, visible behind the mask, seemed to scrutinize him.

Ji Cheng glanced at the madhouse around him and forced a crooked smile. “It’s hard to say exactly. I suppose I’ve become rather philosophical.”

“Philosophical?”

He improvised, “Yes, and I even discovered a philosophical theorem: as long as you ignore what comes after…”

“And then?” Thorn prompted.

“Then what?” Ji Cheng replied.

“Good!” Thorn clapped him on the shoulder, clearly pleased. “Excellent. The organization needs talents like you.”

“Come with me. I’ll help you officially join.”

…

An hour later, Ji Cheng slipped out the back door of Xinliu Tower, the Black Island communicator buried deep within his clothes.

“It’s almost unbelievable,” he thought, waiting quietly at the crosswalk, eyes gleaming with a strange light.

Just now, he had accidentally learned a major secret about Baishan Star from Thorn’s own lips.