Chapter 37 Reality Check: Number 44
Jia-jie, who had been pretending to faint, peeked through one eye, then, without hesitation, tore up her invitation. Her figure faded and vanished.
Yin Yu waved, smiling at Zhu Ming. “Goodbye, Mingming. I look forward to our next meeting.”
Before Zhu Ming could retort, “I certainly don’t!”, Yin Yu and Tu Wei disappeared.
Legs, expressing her hope to team up with them again in future instances, also left.
As Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu were about to leave, a translucent fragment detached itself from Dou Dou’s body. Wenren Tu’s eyes widened, and she quickly picked it up. “The instance core!”
It looked like a piece of crystal. Zhu Ming examined it, then looked at Dou Dou’s body.
She placed the dog’s severed head back in the old man’s arms and asked, “How do we destroy this thing?”
Wenren Tu: “Easy. With our abilities.”
Now that the mission was complete, their abilities were restored. Wenren Tu handed the fragment to Zhu Ming. “Here you go, Zhu ‘Skinner.’ Be generous with Azou when you get the bonus.”
Zhu Ming coughed. “Of course, Atu-jie.”
Without hesitation, she summoned a flame. Black smoke rose from the beautiful, crystal-like fragment. A moment later, it vanished completely.
At the same time, the world around them shook violently, cracks appearing in the sky, the light dimming, as if the heavens were collapsing.
Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu quickly tore up their invitations.
Their vision blurred, then cleared. They were back in the Little Fire God Paranormal Investigations.
Wenren Tu checked the time on her phone. The time in the instance and the real world were synchronized. Two days had passed.
It was late at night. They were exhausted, especially Zhu Ming, whose clothes were torn and tattered. There was no time for serious discussions. Sleep was their priority.
…
In a dark, quiet room, a woman gasped and sat bolt upright in bed.
It was the middle of the night. Yin Qingjia quickly got dressed and hurried out.
In the underground laboratory, the attendant on duty greeted her. “Yin Laoshi, where have you been? You’re finally back!”
Yin Qingjia paused. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
The attendant, walking with her, replied, “Good news! Number 44 is showing signs of consciousness! Its fingers moved! It hasn’t fully awakened yet, though.”
Yin Qingjia’s face lit up with joy. “Wonderful! I knew this would work!”
They reached the deepest part of the underground laboratory, where a large, vertical incubation chamber stood, connected by tubes to several other chambers. Inside the central chamber was a grotesque, humanoid creature with wings. The creatures in the other chambers looked much more… normal.
The winged creature was Number 44, Yin Qingjia’s miracle.
It was the only one with a designation. The creatures in the other chambers were its food.
The attendant didn’t know the details of 44’s creation. He hadn’t been involved in the project at the time. He only knew that Yin Qingjia had poured all her efforts into 44, but it had never awakened.
The attendant said, “The experiment logs for the past two days are here, Yin Laoshi. Should I inform Director Zhao about the good news? He might increase our funding.”
In the dimly lit laboratory, Yin Qingjia walked towards Number 44. It had a woman’s head, deformed claws, hard, translucent scales, and dark, iridescent insect wings.
The attendant, recalling something he had heard, said, “I heard it was the only survivor out of a batch of one hundred experimental subjects. Now it’s finally awakening. Truly a miracle. Yin Laoshi, why don’t we create another batch? We might get more viable subjects.”
Yin Qingjia chuckled softly. “There’s no need. A miracle is a miracle because it can’t be replicated. It’s my most perfect creation. I’ll dedicate everything to its development.”
The attendant said hopefully, “I hope it’ll be… friendly when it fully awakens. That would make subsequent experiments much easier.”
“It will be,” Yin Qingjia replied, her lips curving into a slight smile, a promise only to herself.
The closer she got, the stronger the subtle connection between her and the creature became. As she placed her hand against the reinforced glass, the monstrous creature within stirred and moved towards her.
The attendant exclaimed, “Yin Laoshi, it’s sensing you! Its reaction is much stronger than before!”
Her decision to incorporate her own blood into the experimental subject had been correct.
Yin Qingjia’s smile widened. “Yes, it remembers me. You wanted to find Director Zhao? Have him come and witness this himself.”
The attendant said excitedly, “I hope he’ll be generous this time.”
Yin Qingjia added, “And call everyone else too.”
“Alright!”
An hour later, the researchers and Director Zhao had all gathered in the secret laboratory, staring at the creature with uncontainable excitement.
After the initial excitement subsided, Director Zhao suddenly asked, “Yin Laoshi, it’s awake, but how will this give me superpowers?”
Yin Qingjia smiled. “This is only the first step towards success. Unless you’re willing to become an experimental subject yourself, there’s no quick and easy method.”
Director Zhao frowned. “I want a safe and fast method. Isn’t your research progressing a little too slowly?”
Yin Qingjia, holding a remote control, gazed at Number 44 and stepped back slightly. “There’s no rushing perfection. Creating a god-like being isn’t easy.”
Click!
The laboratory was plunged into darkness.
“Who turned off the lights?!” Director Zhao exclaimed, startled.
Splash!
“What’s that?! Water?!”
The sudden darkness caused panic. A viscous liquid, carrying a strange yet familiar odor, spread rapidly across the floor. Director Zhao didn’t recognize it, but the other researchers did. It was the incubation fluid!
A sickening squelching sound filled the laboratory. The attendant, his hands trembling, reached for the light switch.
But his fingers didn’t find the switch. They touched something cold and slimy.
…
Ten minutes later, the lights came back on. The laboratory was filled with dismembered bodies.
Blood mingled with the incubation fluid on the floor, staining it red. Number 44 crouched in a corner, gnawing on a bloody arm.
She seemed to be afraid of the light, her body flinching slightly, but she continued to devour the flesh and bone.
So hungry, so hungry, so hungry!
A figure approached. Number 44 quickly dropped the arm and wiped her mouth, her remaining human memories telling her this was a disgusting, repulsive act. She didn’t want to scare her, didn’t want her to be disgusted.
But she wasn’t.
Yin Qingjia stroked her damp hair, a twisted smile on her face. “Good girl. You did well.”
Number 44 looked at her adoringly, nuzzling her hand.
Yin Qingjia pulled her up. “Now, let’s find you some clothes and get out of here.”
At the entrance to the secret laboratory, Yin Qingjia’s true and only assistant stood waiting. She asked, “Laoshi, why are we moving so soon? Director Zhao would definitely increase our funding after seeing the results. Then we could have anything we want.”
Yin Qingjia’s face darkened. “She found me.”
The assistant’s eyes widened. “You mean… Yin…?”
Yin Qingjia nodded, a hint of anxiety in her voice. “I suspect she’s already discovered I’m here. We need to leave, change our identities, find a new location. What about that Mr. Wang who wanted me to research immortality for him? Have him make preparations. We’ll go to him.”
Since they were leaving, Director Zhao and the others couldn’t be allowed to live. Dead men tell no tales.
“I understand. The car is ready. You take 44 and leave. I’ll delete the surveillance footage.”
Half an hour later, a fire engulfed the secret underground laboratory, incinerating all its secrets.
About a kilometer away, in an abandoned, unfinished building, a young woman in a white dress, her face plain and unremarkable, hid in the shadows, making a phone call. “Sister, Yin Qingjia left. They’re going to a businessman named Wang Jinbao.”
She had been watching Yin Qingjia for a long time. They had even tried to recruit her.
Unfortunately, Yin Qingjia was too timid and only dared to work with ordinary humans.
A seductive voice chuckled from the other end of the line. “Prepare some joss paper for that Mr. Wang. He’ll be joining Director Zhao soon.”
…
The next afternoon, Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu woke up.
After washing up and eating, Wenren Tu said, “I’ll report the instance to the Bureau and collect your bonus. Don’t thank me. Normally, the bonus isn’t paid until the next instance, after the white amulet is verified.”
Zhu Ming smiled. “Sure. I’ll send you my account information later.”
Wenren Tu added, “And about Yin Yu… although there’s no record of her in the system, we at least know two people connected to her now. I’ll investigate further. We’ll find her eventually.”
The two people connected to Yin Yu: one was Tu Wei, whose name, taken from the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches, was likely an alias. And with her face hidden by a mask, she would be difficult to track.
But Jia-jie… Yin Yu had called her Qing Jia. That name was likely real. Wenren Tu had memorized her face and would have someone draw a portrait. She would find her one day.
A minute after Wenren Tu left, two women in black suits emerged from a hidden corner.
“Dajie, you’ve already delayed for three days,” one of the women said, bowing respectfully. “The Family Head has learned of your… detour to the Dark Realm and has decided to forgive you for missing your appointment. But you must return home tonight. This cannot be postponed any longer.”
Zhu Ming snorted. “I need her forgiveness?”
Despite her words, she stood up and followed the two women in black, getting into a nondescript black Audi SUV.
The car drove for an hour, then stopped in front of a large, traditional-style house. In the expensive real estate market of Huadu, owning such a house indicated considerable wealth.
They walked through the tree-lined courtyard, past an elaborate rock garden. One of the women in black turned to Zhu Ming. “Dajie, the Family Head requests your presence…”
She was already gone.
Zhu Ming, familiar with the place, went to a quiet courtyard, unguarded because it didn’t need guards. Few were allowed to enter; the house itself repelled outsiders.
She entered the main building, opened an intricately carved door, and flipped a switch, dim lights illuminating the way down a stone staircase. Down, down, down…
Finally, she reached the bottom of the stairs, but not her destination.
The temperature down here was higher than above ground, increasing as she descended.
She followed a narrow stone passage, passing through several heavy doors carved with complex formations, finally reaching a stone chamber. The heat here was more intense than the hottest summer day.
There was no electricity down here. Zhu Ming found a box of matches on a table by the door and lit the lamps, one by one.
In the center of the chamber was a circular, slightly raised altar, upon which lay a simple, ancient-looking longbow. Its material seemed to be both wood and metal. When she flicked it with her finger, it emitted a clear, resonant sound.
A suppressed, violent aura emanated from the bow. Zhu Ming, holding a small knife, slowly approached.
So hot.
As she stepped onto the altar, the intense heat almost burned her.
In the dimly lit chamber, the black-haired woman removed her clothes and cut her wrist. She knelt beside the longbow, cradled it in her arms, and slowly smeared her blood on its surface.
It was a familiar ritual, one she had performed many times. She knew what would happen next. The bow’s violent energy would surge into her body, and she would use her blood and flesh to appease it.
Intense emotions surged within her, a sharp pain in her head, the whispering, roaring voices intensifying, filling her mind.
No, the bow’s reaction was too violent this time.
Something within her, deep within her soul, exploded. Zhu Ming looked down, her eyes unfocused.
Drip, drip, drip.
Blood dripped from her nose and mouth.
Whoosh—
A small flame ignited on the bow, warm and comforting.
How… Zhu Ming thought dully. This was the first time she had seen such a reaction from the bow.
The flame quickly spread, engulfing her, then seeping into her flesh, forging a connection she had never felt before.
Zhu Ming shook her head, her vision blurring, then collapsed, clutching the bow, unable to resist the sudden wave of exhaustion.
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