Editor: Junyans
The night was growing darker.
In the abandoned rest area of the underground expressway, the energy-saving lights cast a dim, bluish-white glow that barely illuminated the vast darkness.
Bai Jingan got out of his makeshift bed without putting on his shirt, still wrapped in the warm blanket—which had a pattern of cartoon stars—and stepped out of the rear compartment of the car to survey the surrounding environment.
Six or seven hours ago, when he’d rushed out of the explosion, he’d thought he was going to die. But now, with his wounds bandaged and having consumed a sweet beverage, he felt fine.
This place had some history to it. The doors of the surrounding buildings were all sealed shut, and it was so dark it was impossible to see anything clearly.
The architectural pattern of the Upper City changed frequently and blocked roads and houses could be seen everywhere, quietly hiding in the darkness like layers of accumulated garbage.
He could faintly hear the sounds of cars speeding past on the main road in the distance, and dust which had been rolled up and carried by the wind had accumulated in the corners. Some low plants actually sprouted out of the cracked building panels, with small yellow and red flowers growing out of them.
Bai Jingan surveyed the area, thinking that this place wasn’t bad. If he could find a suitable valve, maybe he could even take a hot bath later.
In the next twenty minutes, he roughly calculated the size of the rest area, the number of building doors, and potential escape routes. His demeanor resembled that of a recovering patient taking a stroll but at the same time, he acted like a lethal beast measuring his territory.
As he approached the entrance to the staff rest area, Bai Jingan spotted the carcass of a rat.
It was as big as a dog, uncommon in the Upper City but found everywhere in the Lower City—a result of prolonged genetic contamination. Always ravenous, they lurked in the sewers, attacking children and the severely injured.
Who’d shot it twice, driving it to flee to this place, ultimately seeming to attempt to charge into the sealed-off building? Bai Jingan wondered, what was it thinking in its dying moments? Perhaps it had sought help, even though in this world, no one would rescue a rat.
Now, it had been dead for several days—the corpse was highly decomposed, swollen and emitted a nightmarish stench of flesh decay. Inside, maggots wriggled madly as they feasted voraciously.
Bai Jingan stared blankly for a while, then turned away.
He walked back to the car. In this dark, abandoned area, the car was the only source of some warm light.
Xia Tian stood in that patch of light, watching him.
Bai Jingan returned to the makeshift bed in the rear compartment. Feeling cold, he dragged another blanket over.
The back compartment was open like an awning, and Xia Tian helped him arrange the blanket and brought a cushion.
“There’s a carcass of a mutated rat over there,” Bai Jingan said.
“Probably escaped from the Lower City,” Xia Tian remarked.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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Bai Jingan stared at his arm, where an old scar extended from his forearm inwards, as if left by a… he didn’t know what, possibly a mutant creature, maybe a rat, maybe not.
The road roller had rolled over the creature’s lower half, yet the remaining half had still fervently sought to attack and devour.
He touched the wound. It seemed to have been left a long time ago. Someone had helped him bandage and medicate it. He couldn’t remember who it was, only recalled the person saying, “It’ll get better soon.”
Xia Tian turned to look at him.
“What’s wrong?” Xia Tian asked.
“I… I’m thinking about the encapsulation area,” Bai Jingan said. “In the end, it was horrifying… the temperature was too high, corpses were rotting, breeding… breeding so many maggots… it looked terrifying.”
He didn’t know why he was sharing this now; he would never be prepared to talk about it. He heard his own voice trembling, fragmented, and hysterical.
“I still dream about the smell… It’s everywhere, and I couldn’t escape it,” he continued. “The entire area is filled with bodies infested with maggots, flies, limbs, organs, guns that are no longer useful… and those things come out of the bodies. It was everywhere, in the streets, in the houses, It doesn’t… it doesn’t look like it used to be… it doesn’t look like them…”
He stuttered. Xia Tian sat close by, so close that he could feel his warmth and hear his gentle breath. He was alive.
“In the end, you just… can’t hold on to anything,” he said, “Even after you’ve exerted all your strength, all your strength—”
He paused, feeling as if his entire body was trembling, on the verge of breaking apart.
Xia Tian looked at him, offering no words of comfort like “it’s all over”—they both knew it would never truly be over.
The night enveloped them. A draft coming through the vents, blowing away a bit of the mildew smell. It rustled the low bushes in front, causing the flowers to gently sway.
Xia Tian reached out and gently touched a wound on Bai Jingan’s shoulder.
Even now, one could see that it had once been very deep, an almost fatal blow left by that slaughterhouse.
Bai Jingan remained still. In his imagination, he would never show these scars to anyone in his life. He would forever keep them hidden in the depths of darkness, just the thought of them being unbearable.
Yet, in this moment, he felt safe, despite the chaotic situation, one where he was lying on the makeshift bed in an abandoned rest area vehicle.
Xia Tian’s fingertip caressed his wound, slightly itchy but very warm.
“It must have hurt a lot,” Xia Tian said.
“Yeah,” Bai Jingan replied, “It had hurt a lot.”
That night, they examined the water pipes in the abandoned rest area and indeed managed to have a warm bath.
The water temperature was comfortable, inducing relaxation throughout their bodies. Xia Tian even found a very soft towel in the car.
After the shower, Bai Jingan went on to sleep for another three hours. Xia Tian was wiping his hair next to him while he was sleeping and sometimes, water drops would splash on him. Bai Jingan slept deeply, not remembering a single dream when he woke up.
In the late hours of the night, they decided to change locations, traversing the underground highway that sprawled like veins throughout the city. At this depth, the organizers couldn’t pinpoint Xia Tian’s punishment chip.
He executed a steady U-turn, careful not to wake Xa Tian. In the rearview mirror, he could see Xia Tian curled up in the back seat, sound asleep—he had overseen the rebandaging of his wounds without waking him.
The light from the street lamps swept across in layers. There were almost no cars on the road, and the occasional one passing by in a hurry.
The entire world slept, awaiting the rise of the sun. The dashboard in the car was tinted in a deep red, time ticking away steadily. By now, the sky in the Upper City should be tinged with a fish-belly white.
It was another bloody dawn.
Bai Jingan knew that before ten o’clock the next morning, they had to return under the watchful eyes of the cameras and continue this hunting game.
He muttered, “The fourth day.”
In the back seat, Xia Tian opened his eyes and looked at him, not moving, still appearing somewhat groggy.
“Get some more sleep,” Bai Jingan suggested.
The man didn’t speak, just kept gazing at him.
Bai Jingan switched the car to autopilot, went to the back seat, and sat beside him.
The supports of the highway passed overhead like dark clouds. Occasionally a slender beam of bright light descended from above, illuminating their faces, then disappearing in an instant.
“They’ll find us today,” Xia Tian said.
“Yes,” Bai Jingan acknowledged.
The sun shone brightly that day.
As Bai Jingan drove, he deactivated the anti-search program. The car passed through the underground tunnel, and the sky above was as pure as a photographic backdrop.
Xia Tian organized the firearms at his disposal. Individuals like them tended to repeatedly count their weapons, tallying types, quantities, and firepower, checking for maintenance, and contemplating their plans for bloodshed.
By his feet lay the stellar rocket launcher acquired three hours ago from a private security company warehouse—the plate of offerings to the God of War had held the address and access permissions.
The car moved steadily, and as the morning sunlight bathed their faces, Xia Tian’s punishment chip would start to work. The chain that had been tied around his neck when he had come to the Upper City would be tightened and provide location data.
Xia Tian lifted his head and smiled at the first camera he saw.
Under the sunlight, he appeared genuinely happy. Shadows cast upon his face only accentuated the dazzling parts.
The overwhelming light from the upper city pressed down, accompanied by countless cameras, gazes, and gun barrels.
They were back on the Guest Show scene again.
Qiu Ren sat in front of the screen, observing Xia Tian’s smile through the camera. From this angle, it seemed as if the man was smiling directly at him.
He smiled in return. However, as the reflected image of that smile multiplied, copied, and deepened, the response became cold and distorted. He thought to himself, this man indeed needed to be educated well.
He was the head of the field operations department at the Iceberg Private Security Company—originally named Zhou Xinghe, but that sounded unrelated to being a ruthless and unblinking high-level assassin. In this day and age, even being a security guard required a stage name. The company’s address wasn’t publicly disclosed; only insiders would know of its existence and avail themselves of its services.
It was not that the company was exceptionally secretive—they had a silver-blue skyscraper with a reflective ice and snow effect on the exterior, which looked quite imposing. However, Qiu Ren knew that what they truly did was the dirty work of this world.
Ordinary people would never witness it in their lifetimes, but what they saw and did constituted the bloody, behind-the-scenes reality.
They served the top echelons. In the distant past, these people hunted foxes in the woods; now, they pursued handsome men and beautiful women in floating cities. Afterward, they skinned them and laid them on the dining table, using knives and forks to enjoy them.
They were the hounds of the elite.
In earlier years, this job might have been quite dangerous, but now… how dangerous could hunting a fox be?
Of course, sometimes there would be some stubborn prey, like this time.
The people from the “Honey Pavilion”—a group of talented individuals, it’s a pity they died, thought Qiu Ren—were not wrong in saying that someone from the Lower City coming here needed to understand the rules.
Under the immense power of the sensationalist marketing machinery, Xia Tian had become another peak God after Bai Lin. But in Qiu Ren’s eyes, he had never learned the rules.
However, very soon—before tonight—someone would teach him. The big shots were getting anxious; no Guest Show contestant had ever managed to escape beyond three days. It was now the fourth day, and they had a movie to start filming and a bunch of events to attend at seven. The big shots didn’t want their regular work to be disrupted…
Every time he thought about this, it felt absurd, but that’s how the world operated.
Constant reports of the locations from various team members echoed in his earpiece. They were all professionals. Just by tracking the movements of these two people, they could discern their intentions.
He appreciated the qualities they displayed—intelligence, precision, and an eye for vengeance. The last time they had been hunted, he had personally handled it, and these two clearly had the style of seasoned warriors breaking out from the battlefield.
However, in the Upper City, these qualities were merely meant to add a bit more excitement to the dining experiences of the elite.
He would have them on the table before noon today.
