Chapter Sixty-Nine: The Hive Laboratory

“Quiet, everyone, and listen to me.” Zhou Ze stepped forward, standing out from the crowd. As the most renowned councilor in Southport, the name Blade Willow carried real weight.

“The Hive Laboratory lies just below us. The ventilation shaft only allows one person through at a time. In a moment, follow the formation and enter one by one—no pushing. Once inside, disperse quickly to the area assigned to you on your identity card. I’ll share a basic map to your wrist computers.”

Neither Zhou Ze, Yao Lun, nor the other second-tier ability users from the city-states would be entering the Hive. They would remain at the temporary base, providing command signals for the operation.

“Whatever protoforms you find, it’s up to your own ability. But one rule: no fighting amongst yourselves. If someone gets into trouble and you can help, do so if you can. Is that clear?”

The other leaders offered a few brief words of encouragement before withdrawing from the edge of the Lizard Eye.

The group secured their pitons and began their descent, rappelling down the concave walls of the cave and arriving one by one at the bottom.

The cave floor was a pale, almost watery expanse of alkali salt, surrounded by dark fissures and cracks. Though the salt crust looked solid, it was only a few centimeters thick. Beneath was a soft, greasy mud; once trapped, it was nearly impossible to escape.

According to the information Zhou Ze provided, the salt had been cleared before each previous trip to the Hive, yet always returned by the next attempt. Eventually, it was discovered that even deep below, the mud was riddled with salty deposits. Because salt is less dense—at least less so than the mud and sand below—it pushes upward, thrusting clusters of white, rush-like fibers to the surface, eventually hardening into broad sheets.

A drilling machine that had fallen earlier had broken through the crust, becoming mired in the mud, nearly swallowed whole.

They pulled down their bio-masks, activated their wide-band headsets, and, treading carefully atop the salt, approached the southeastern side of the cavern floor. The entrance to the Hive Laboratory was there.

It was an abandoned ventilation shaft, its outer casing crushed and collapsed by something, leaving it unusually low and oppressive. The idle fan blades bore only a thin layer of dust.

Apparently, the “eyelid” of the Lizard Eye blocked most of the powder from entering.

With more than forty people, they could not crowd into the vent; they would have to go one at a time. The question now was: who would go first?

The gaping black shaft resembled the maw of a beast, enough to terrify anyone standing before it.

None of those present had ever entered the Hive, and none could predict what dangers might lurk inside the shaft. Fear was inevitable.

Even if they were assured there was no danger in the shaft, few would have dared to be the first. In the wilderness, many ability users had lost their lives due to faulty intel.

The more powerful one was, the more they cherished life. Everyone had become an ability user through hardship—no one was eager to die needlessly.

The line fell silent, eyes darting left and right, but no one spoke.

Ji Cheng, after a brief moment of thought, cleared his throat, preparing to step forward. This was not a matter of bravado, but a carefully considered decision.

According to the detailed information Zhou Ze had secretly provided, this vent led to an isolated plant seed storage room, a place not typically patrolled by mechanical sentries—there was no need to worry about safety.

He believed himself the strongest in the group. Taking point would reduce the risk of accidents, benefiting everyone—including himself.

He would also be the first to learn the truth of the situation.

If someone like Zhang Lingfei, whose nerves were poor, went ahead and something happened, the entire team might be trapped inside.

“Ji Cheng will go first,” Yao Lun’s voice suddenly sounded in their headsets, using the public channel so everyone could hear.

After last night’s drinking session, everyone knew the sharp-eyed young man was Ji Cheng, and all eyes turned to him.

“Councilor Yao from Southport is truly bold.”

“Yes, sending his ace in first right away.”

“This guy must really be something.”

In their minds, the way Lu Shangbai had sung his praises—even if exaggerated—meant this Ji Cheng was indeed powerful and held in high regard in Southport.

The others, unaware of the private tension between Ji Cheng and Yao Lun, naturally assumed he was Yao Lun’s ace.

“Yao is really losing his composure?” Ji Cheng raised an eyebrow to himself. Still, he had planned to take the lead anyway, and Yao Lun’s words made his move seem less ostentatious.

“Alright, I’ll go first.”

Ji Cheng reviewed the information in his mind once more, making sure he’d missed nothing, then pulled Luo Rao with him and crawled into the vent.

“One at a time, keep two and a half meters between you,” Zhou Ze’s voice came over the public channel in their headsets as well.

None of the second-tier ability users from other city-states had been inside the Hive before, so command was in the hands of Southport’s three councilors.

Tap, tap, tap.

The vent was quiet, only the soft, scattered footsteps echoing. The walls were polished, reflecting the figures moving ahead.

The distance between them was exactly two and a half meters—enough space for those with enhanced reflexes, even if their protoform injections weren’t specialized for neural boosts, to handle any surprise.

The shaft wasn’t long. After about ten minutes, they reached the end.

With a soft thud, Ji Cheng leaped out first. Without pausing to survey the area, he immediately drew the black rock K-90 pistol from his belt, aiming it at the door where danger was most likely to be hiding.

“No guards. It’s safe,” he announced, right hand steady on the gun, left hand pressing the talk button on his headset.

“Send in two squads. The rest hold position. Ji Cheng, conduct a tactical short recording,” Zhou Ze ordered.

Video transmission used a lot of bandwidth. In high-radiation environments, it was a luxury to keep cameras running for long periods. Usually, command only required a tactical short—about ten seconds of footage.

Ji Cheng patiently recorded and sent a video back to the temporary base.

The storage room wasn’t large. For actual combat space, ten or so people was ideal; any more and it would be too crowded.

“Cheng,”

He turned to catch Luo Rao as she jumped down, setting her aside before returning to his guard stance.

The vent exited high on the wall, about three meters above the floor.

Following Luo Rao came the Zhang sisters, and three others under Councilor Yao’s command.

Since it was a single squad, and Ji Cheng was taking point, the whole Yao Lun squad had to go in front.

Next came the squad from Anxi City—six in all, dressed in gray and white combat uniforms. Lei Junming was among them; he nodded lightly at Ji Cheng in greeting.

When the last ability user from Anxi City jumped down, the vent mouth was left in darkness. As instructed, the rest of the group waited dozens of meters away, holding position until Ji Cheng’s group exited the room.

“Let’s sweep the room first. It’s been years since Southport was here—there could have been changes,” Lei Junming suggested, his gaze on Ji Cheng.

Whether due to talent or otherwise, the ability users from Anxi City seemed to look to him for direction.

“Alright, everyone, split up and search,” Ji Cheng replied nonchalantly. There was little chance of finding anything valuable in a room like this.

Beep—beep—

Just then, their headsets buzzed, followed by Zhou Ze’s voice, more serious than before.

“Attention all teams: traces of mining zone formation detected in the video.”

Traces of mining zone formation? Weren’t they already beneath the mine?

Ji Cheng was baffled.

He was about to ask for clarification when his attention was caught by a table. The tabletop was edged with lead, small and heavily worn, quietly tucked in a corner of the room. At first glance, nothing notable—except that the bottom of one table leg was capped with something yellow-brown.

Looking closer, he realized it was stone.

The base of the table leg had turned to rock.

Ji Cheng instantly understood Zhou Ze’s meaning.

The original Hive Laboratory had been an intact facility, but now, it seemed to have transformed into some kind of mine. The table, with its new stone appendage, was proof of this.

“In other words, a stacked mine has formed…” Ji Cheng frowned deeply.

Above the Hive Laboratory lay the Lizard Eye, and now the lab itself had become a mining zone. Two mines stacked atop one another. According to the Compendium, this was an extremely dangerous scenario.

As he felt a growing sense of alarm, a wave of dizziness, nausea, and fatigue swept over him like a tide.

He felt dreadful.

Before he could speak, he heard Zhang Jing’e murmur behind him:

“Who turned off the lights?”

Lights?

He looked up reflexively.

The room’s lights were still on, shining as before.

A cold chill clamped down on Ji Cheng.

“Mental contamination!”