A rescue scene was filmed with the style of a horror movie.
As they exited the elevator, Song Zheng kept muttering, “I swear! That scene just now! You could throw it into any ghost film, and it wouldn’t feel out of place!”
His cheeks were slightly flushed, his skin mildly burned by the earlier shockwave, making him itch to scratch the irritated spots. But he didn’t dare move recklessly, gripping his gun tightly as his eyes darted frequently from side to side.
The layout here was completely different from upstairs. Without a map, they had no choice but to feel their way forward.
In the areas illuminated by the light, it was clear that the décor leaned toward a cold aesthetic. The walls and furniture were all in monotonous, icy metallic tones. There were no plants – replaced instead by various eerie specimens and models.
If you weren’t paying attention and suddenly caught sight of them, it could scar you for life.
When the driver blasted through a glass door in front of them with his submachine gun, the corridor lights suddenly flickered on. The long-unseen bright light poured down from above, making the focused group of tough guys jolt in unison.
Song Zheng got goosebumps. “Damn, talk about jinxing it?”
Zheng Yi said with a complicated expression, “Shut up, will you? You’re the one creating this whole creepy atmosphere!”
Song Zheng whined, “Sis, he’s being mean.”
Zheng Yi’s nerves were already stretched to the breaking point. He kept his gun trained forward as he searched through a wooden shelf nearby, not even lifting his head. “You haven’t seen my mean side yet.”
Cheng Feng had zero interest in the row of animal and plant specimens on the wooden shelf. She peered from the corridor entrance toward the research room inside.
Song Zheng and his buddy rummaged haphazardly through the desks, inexplicably convinced this place held crucial intel.
Zheng Yi turned around and, seeing the team spread out, warned, “Everyone, guard the doors. Don’t just focus on searching. The people across from us might be coming soon. If possible, try to take one alive so we can properly interrogate them.”
Song Zheng obediently replied, “Okay.”
The moment the word left his mouth, the ceiling panel directly above Zheng Yi suddenly shattered. Overcoming the human instinct to look up and investigate, he tucked his neck and instinctively stepped back – but still got showered with debris.
Zheng Yi knelt on the ground, completely dazed. He shook off the dust and grit, trying to get up quickly, when another agile dark figure leaped down from the opening above, landing a foot directly on his spine and stomping down hard amid his cries of pain.
The others looked over in alarm. Song Zheng let out a furious shout and raised his gun to fire, but the intruder had already ducked behind a desk, making it impossible to aim.
Cheng Feng was about to move in to help when she caught a flicker of movement from the direction of the research lab out of the corner of her eye. Instantly, she swung her gun around and fired at the figure.
She had no idea what the interior walls were made of. The moment she fired, she heard a sharp ricochet and caught a brief flash of sparks in her peripheral vision. It hit her immediately – these walls were inhumanely designed to reflect bullets.
A torrent of curses flooded her mind, though in reality, only a fraction of a second had passed.
In that brief, immeasurable instant, a stray bullet grazed her cheek and whizzed past her, flying off behind her.
Cheng Feng felt her heart pound violently as she instinctively crouched, bending her back and knees. But before she could gather herself, the figure in front of her had already closed the distance, swinging a leg in a horizontal kick that sent her weapon flying from her hands.
The kick landed squarely on her elbow. In her downward-slanting line of sight, she caught a glimpse of the opponent’s taut, powerful leg muscles – firm, bulging lines that even military trousers couldn’t conceal.
This ambushing enemy soldier was nearly twice her size; his clenched fist alone could rival the size of her head. Just his shadow alone was enough to completely engulf her.
His explosive power was something she couldn’t match.
By the time the simulator’s pain signals reached her brain, she had already crashed heavily to the ground with the force of inertia.
After a thunderous clang, Cheng Feng’s world suddenly erupted into chaos.
Like a clap of thunder, Song Zheng’s furious roar exploded in her ears, accompanied by the murderous whistle of a blade slicing through the air. Cheng Feng scrambled, using both hands and feet, rolling on the spot to dodge a knife aimed straight at her. Her cheek came within less than five centimeters of the blade as it struck the ground beside her.
“Behind you!”
“Shoot! Don’t hesitate!”
The situation outside was unclear – sounds of gunfire and toppling containers mixed together in a frantic, chaotic rhythm.
Cheng Feng didn’t have time to think. She raised her hand and grabbed the knife-wielder’s wrist, trying to disarm him.
But his overwhelming strength made that impossible. Instead, he hoisted her up like a sandbag and violently slammed her against the wall.
Cheng Feng felt her blood surge and the air in her lungs forcibly expelled. Whether her eyes were open or closed, all she saw was white.
Everyone witnessing the scene thought she was done for. Her limbs went limp and weak.
San Yao had probably reduced the enemy soldier’s capabilities, but no matter how much they weakened him, he was still a professional special forces operative. In a direct physical confrontation, Cheng Feng – barely an adult woman – held no advantage.
The camera panned to her face, giving her a close-up.
Through the two brutal impacts, she hadn’t made a sound, but her features betrayed an undeniable trace of pain.
Her skin was deathly pale, drained of all color. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and because of her tightly clenched jaw, prominent veins stood out in sharp relief.
Lower still, her eyelashes drooped slightly, but the shadows they cast couldn’t conceal the fierce, cold glint in her eyes.
The instructor drew in a sharp breath. At this inopportune moment, he couldn’t help but wonder – what exactly had the combat robot taught her?
That tenacity and unyielding spirit seemed etched into her very bones. She was like a wolf prowling a bloody hunting ground – the closer to death, the fiercer her struggle to bite back.
He almost couldn’t bear to watch, yet somehow felt it might not be over yet.
At the precipice of life and death, Cheng Feng suddenly summoned her strength. With a swift twist, she sprang up from the ground, still clinging tightly to the man’s right arm, while her legs locked fiercely around his neck.
They crashed to the ground together. The man pounded at her with his fists, but Cheng Feng refused to let go.
When faced with the most primal will to survive, both the NPC and the machine unleashed their wild, ferocious instincts.
In the end, with his vital point constricted, the NPC was the first to bid farewell to his second playthrough.
Cheng Feng gasped for breath, her chest heaving. Only when her heartbeat finally steadied did she realize the commotion outside had also ceased.
She tried to lift her head; it felt as heavy as lead. Bracing one hand against the wall, she pulled herself up and surveyed the chaotic, battle-torn scene.
“Status?” Cheng Feng’s voice was rough. “Sound off if you’re alive.”
Zheng Yi raised a hand. He was barely hanging on, his severe spinal injury rendering him unable to stand.
Song Zheng’s friend had sacrificed himself for the team, falling heroically in the crossfire. The driver had taken a bullet to the arm; the dark fabric of his sleeve hid the wound, but dark red blood dripped incessantly, already pooling on the floor.
Cheng Feng walked over and picked up her cap, which had fallen during the fight. Her fingers trembled slightly as she straightened it.
The driver strode past her without a word, bending down to deliver two final strikes to the fallen enemies before finally sitting down to rest.
At that moment, the sole person among them still at full health and stamina was Song Zheng.
The only hope.
The driver pounded the ground twice and reminded, “Remember to finish them off, junior. Ever watched TV dramas? If you leave these kills unclaimed, even the coffin lids would pop off in outrage.”
Cheng Feng was in no mood to talk and merely nodded perfunctorily.
Zheng Yi winced in pain, lying flat on the cold floor as he lamented life’s bitterness. “When I get back, I’m writing a complaint to San Yao. The current pain settings are still way too high – this is causing serious harm to the pillars of our nation!”
“Ahhh–” Song Zheng wiped his face and said shakily, “I thought we were done for this round.”
Cheng Feng pointed her thumb at herself and said with a cold smile, “As long as I can still stand, I’m not accepting a third round.”
“Sis, I’m begging you!” Song Zheng nearly dropped to his knees. “Please don’t say things that sound like death flags! You’re terrifying me!”
Cheng Feng looked down to check her injuries. Most of the damage was internal; the external wounds weren’t too serious.
She pulled a medical kit from her bag and began treating the driver’s wound.
Zheng Yi called out, “Junior, come over here and shoot me. I’m ready to become a distinguished spectator.”
Song Zheng trotted over hesitantly. “Kill a teammate? Won’t I get flamed for that?”
“Isn’t your secondary role a trash-talker? What are you afraid of?” Zheng Yi snapped in frustration. “If I had any means to do it myself, I’d gladly save this bullet for the enemy. The question is, do I look capable of that right now?!”
What should have been a poignant moment died under their casual banter.
Song Zheng closed his eyes and sent his teammate off, then jerked his chin toward the interior. “Should be safe inside now, right?”
Cheng Feng replied, “Just be careful yourself.” The kid had to learn to sail alone.
Song Zheng gave a lonely-sounding acknowledgment, hugged his gun, and ran toward the research lab.
Cheng Feng sat shoulder to shoulder with the driver, discussing San Yao’s pain system. Five minutes into their conversation, the gunshot wound on the driver’s arm was still bleeding, and the insignificant scratch on Cheng Feng’s face showed no signs of healing either.
Their dry topic exhausted, they each pulled potent blood-stopping injections from their bags and administered them.
Another ten minutes passed. Cheng Feng began to suspect that this second senior might also meet his end here. For a moment, she wasn’t sure who to feel sorrier for.
Song Zheng came running out from inside and eagerly reported, “This floor is clear of danger, but I found a body. Should be an important lead…”
His eyes widened. “What the hell happened?”
“Wounds won’t stop bleeding. In this side quest, you can’t lose blood.” Cheng Feng waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind him. It’s just the two of us now.”
“Oh god.” Song Zheng felt a sudden bleakness about their prospects. “This is too tragic.”
