EDEH Chapter 143

Sang Jue didn’t know how Huo Yanji arranged for the others, but when they left, it was indeed just the two of them.

 

Huo Yanji carried a very heavy pack filled with everything they would need for this trip.

 

Sang Jue actually didn’t understand why they needed high-damage weapons when they had him, but he didn’t ask.

 

Sang Jue first revealed his tail, then heard Huo Yanji say: “No need to transform into a dragon, let’s drive there.”

 

Sang Jue looked at the gloomy street and the depressed crowd: “But flying would be faster.”

 

Huo Yanji said: “There’s a stretch of dangerous terrain where flying would make us easy targets for attack.”

 

Sang Jue slowly made an “oh” sound.

 

They changed into civilian clothes and queued with the crowd at the dilapidated city gate to leave the city.

 

The Fifth District was very dangerous now, with the eastern district constantly in combat with monsters, but mercenaries continued to venture into the wilderness seeking resources. Everyone was used to doing what needed to be done, facing death that could come at any moment—no one panicked, no one was filled with rage.

 

Compared to the main city, life in the Fifth District was obviously more difficult. Among the queuing mercenaries, hardly anyone wore complete, clean clothing. Some combat suits were even soaked with bloodstains, unlike the main city where full decontamination was required to enter.

 

“Why is the line so slow today…”

 

“What’s been going on lately? Something feels off.”

 

“Can’t put my finger on it, but my eyelid’s been twitching for days.”

 

Ahead, a team of mercenaries was whispering among themselves. They were clearly violent types, obviously people who had fought at death’s edge for years—each tall and sturdy, with wheat-colored dark skin, scars adding to their fierce appearance.

 

Noticing Sang Jue looking at them, one glanced over. He didn’t show contempt, just said indifferently: “In times like these, even little guys are being forced to leave the city.”

 

“Stay inside and starve to death.”

 

Sang Jue withdrew his gaze, moving closer to Huo Yanji and grabbing his sleeve.

 

The residents of the Fifth District clearly illustrated one thing—

 

Only people whose basic needs were met had the energy to pursue other interests. All conspiracies, lies, and schemes took a backseat when even breathing was problematic—who had time to think about such things?

 

Both Huo Yanji and Sang Jue wore half-masks. The Fifth District had many oddly dressed people, so they didn’t attract much attention.

 

The exit queue stretched like a long dragon, moving at a snail’s pace. The line behind them showed no signs of shortening, with people constantly joining at the end.

 

The mercenaries ahead lit cigarettes, occasionally glancing back.

 

Despite the mask, Sang Jue’s eyes were indeed beautiful, and his exposed skin was impossibly pale—like some privileged young master from prehistoric civilization, noble and pure.

 

Huo Yanji, whose sleeve Sang Jue was grabbing, was overly aloof. Combined with Sang Jue’s dependent appearance, it was easy for people to get the wrong idea.

 

Sympathy flashed in the mercenaries’ eyes, and one struck up conversation: “You two heading to the swamplands?”

 

He said this because their outdoor experience was extensive—they could tell from clothing alone that these two wore masks for the swamps’ miasma.

 

Sang Jue wasn’t clear on their route, so he tugged Huo Yanji’s sleeve, indicating he should answer.

 

Huo Yanji’s voice was cold: “Passing through.”

 

“Just two people going so far? It’s been chaotic outside lately.” The mercenary glanced at his companions who didn’t stop him, then introduced himself: “I’m Qiu Yan, also passing through the swamp area. We can give you a ride.”

 

Huo Yanji’s temperament was actually incompatible with mercenaries—upright and proper—but no mercenary would guess he was military, since soldiers had no time to mix with the motley crew of mercenaries and had dedicated exit channels.

 

Plus, Huo Yanji usually kept his aura relatively restrained, his killing intent not so heavy, making his combination with Sang Jue appear somewhat vulnerable.

 

Huo Yanji said: “No need.”

 

Qiu Yan’s gaze toward Sang Jue became even more sympathetic. If you’re going to find someone, at least find someone capable, not end up with such an arrogant person.

 

“…” Sang Jue asked directly: “What are you thinking?”

 

Qiu Yan hesitated for a long time, probably afraid that saying it would make Sang Jue get bullied worse, so he gave up.

 

“Nothing, just thought since we have the same destination, traveling together would provide companionship.”

 

“I have a companion.” Sang Jue said earnestly—they’d just gotten their certificate.

 

He touched his chest area, where there was a magnetic card.

 

Sang Jue remembered that many years ago, human marriage certificates were paper. Now they’d become this technological form of magnetic chip, engraved with each other’s ID numbers and names.

 

You could also get a paper version from the registry office, but it cost extra.

 

Paper was very expensive.

 

Sang Jue didn’t want it, just had the magnetic chip punched with a hole and hung it around his neck on a string.

 

Others kept their marriage certificates at home, but he had no home, so he could only carry it with him.

 

Qiu Yan could only give up, glancing at Huo Yanji and feeling sorry for Sang Jue.

 

“Ahhhhh!!!” Sudden commotion erupted ahead, with agonized screams reaching their ears. The queuing mercenaries scattered like birds and beasts, instantly clearing the most dangerous area.

 

Sang Jue twitched his nose—no monster scent.

 

The atmosphere became suddenly tense with rising chaos. Soldiers from the city wall quickly surrounded the area. Huo Yanji caught sight from the corner of his eye and immediately scooped up Sang Jue, spinning around to barely dodge a charging slender tentacle, followed by a thunderous “BOOM!!”

 

The pillar behind them was directly struck by the tentacle and collapsed with a crash, dust flying everywhere.

 

Sang Jue hung in Huo Yanji’s arms like a mannequin. The tentacle that had smashed into the pillar quickly retracted at extreme speed, leaving thick sticky fluid dripping all over the ground.

 

Following the trail of slime, its source was a shabbily dressed man who was convulsing violently all over, as if having a seizure, attacking everyone indiscriminately.

 

Two mercenaries had already fallen over there, pierced through the chest by the sudden attack. Their dead eyes stared at the dark sky, blood flowing everywhere.

 

Huo Yanji swept his arm across, properly embracing Sang Jue. Just as he reached for his side waist, he keenly sensed a bullet cutting through the air: “Bang!”

 

The bullet hit the convulsing man right in the forehead. He fell with the sound, crushing the victim’s arm.

 

The shooter was Major General Murphy, who appeared much sharper compared to their encounter in District Seven over half a year ago. Fifth District officers differed from the main city’s composure—from top to bottom they carried a bandit-like air, and Colin following behind her had also been infected with this trait.

 

Murphy’s injuries from last time must have been quite serious—her left shoulder seemed somewhat weak. She frowned and asked: “What happened? Loss of order?”

 

The soldier who went to check replied: “Report! It doesn’t look like loss of order.”

 

Colin also asked: “Infected?”

 

The soldier said: “Report, currently investigating.”

 

Because the mercenaries ahead were tall and burly, Sang Jue couldn’t see anything standing in the crowd, so he stubbornly demanded Huo Yanji carry him. Through the bustling heads, Colin and Murphy in military uniforms stood side by side, his beard much cleaner.

 

Huo Yanji and Sang Jue hid in the crowd, quietly watching them handle everything.

 

The Colin he’d seen yesterday still had some familiar feeling from before, but today watching from afar through the crowd, he seemed much more foreign. Not only had he matured and become more stable, shedding his former angry youth energy, but he’d also aged… both psychologically and physically. His work and command were also more efficient and authoritative.

 

Sang Jue seriously commented: “Colin has grown up.”

 

Huo Yanji: “…”

 

He unconsciously rubbed Sang Jue’s bottom and put him down.

 

“You have to pay to touch me.” Sang Jue frowned.

 

“We’re now in a legitimate husband-husband relationship, just registered—” Huo Yanji said indifferently, “Besides, aren’t you going back underground? What do you need money for?”

 

Sang Jue was stumped, deliberately saying something hurtful: “For next time I come up.”

 

Huo Yanji said: “Next time you come up, the safe zones might have changed to universal currency.”

 

“Then give me…” Before he could say “gems,” Sang Jue felt something was wrong. He suddenly turned to look at the man shot dead by the bullet—

 

The body was actually liquefying at a speed visible to the naked eye. Soon only empty clothes remained, with silver-gray liquid matter wriggling and gathering together, causing a chorus of exclamations.

 

“Humanoid creature!”

 

“How did a humanoid creature get mixed in!?”

 

Although the Fifth District’s management was relatively less strict, letting a humanoid creature infiltrate was still a major oversight.

 

Moreover, they weren’t close to any major rifts, making it difficult to encounter humanoid creatures.

 

“What’s going on!?”

 

Colin stepped forward without hesitation, tearing apart and scattering the liquid matter again before it could coalesce.

 

He looked around and shouted: “Everyone stay where you are! Those leaving the city, depart immediately! Those staying in the city, please cooperate with inspection!!”

 

In the Fifth District, leaving the city only required registration, while entering procedures were slightly more complex.

 

Qiu Yan and others immediately surged toward the city gate, but still looked back at the beautiful young man wearing a mask. He didn’t know if it was his imagination, but the youth seemed to mutter to the man beside him: “I want to eat it.”

 

If someone acted so coquettishly toward him, he’d want to present whatever they wanted to eat right in front of them. But that coldly aloof man obviously didn’t seem like someone who would dote on people.

 

Qiu Yan had no time to think too much, only feeling a wave of regretful pity before being pulled past the registration point by his teammates.

 

Huo Yanji looked at Sang Jue: “Should I go find Major General Murphy now and ask her to leave the humanoid creature alone so you can eat it?”

 

“…” Sang Jue pressed his lips together, looking directly at him: “This might be my last meal.”

 

Huo Yanji took a light breath, his Adam’s apple slowly rolling down during their gaze.

 

Sang Jue wasn’t even being deliberate—his tone held no intentional pity-seeking or acting pitiful, not even a hint of coquettishness. Just that plain, flat sentence made a certain heart instantly constrict… adding another new thorn to the thousand wounds.

 

Huo Yanji sent out a message, then pulled Sang Jue away from the gate.

 

He showed a special pass. The soldier didn’t even check their ID cards before opening the special passage to let them through.

 

They needed to retrieve their vehicle from the outer perimeter shed. Sang Jue followed behind with little enthusiasm.

 

When they got in the passenger seat and Huo Yanji had already started the car, a hand suddenly knocked on the window.

 

Colin, no longer Huo Yanji’s subordinate, hurried over and handed Sang Jue a glass container, saying: “I can only give you a small portion. The rest needs to go to the lab building to figure out what’s going on. This humanoid creature is a bit special—doesn’t seem to be from outside.”

 

After receiving the message, Colin had guessed that Sang Jue wanted the humanoid creature. Although he didn’t know what use it had, it would be even more meaningless for Huo Yanji to need it.

 

But that last sentence was rather eerie—not seeming to be from outside, could it be from inside?

 

Finally, Colin took a deep breath and looked toward Huo Yanji in the driver’s seat: “Sir, safe travels.”

 

Huo Yanji nodded, not saying any inspiring words, only four indifferent words: “Stay alive.”

 

“…Yes!” Colin replied solemnly.

 

He skillfully started the vehicle, stirring up dust everywhere.

 

Colin watched from afar, his eyes somewhat red. He raised his hand and gave a firm military salute, keeping it until the armored vehicle’s silhouette disappeared from view. Only then did he slowly turn around, facing the dilapidated city wall.

 

Who knew when they would meet again.

 

But compared to reunion, for them the greater possibility was suddenly hearing the other’s death notice through military channels one day.

 

…

 

Sang Jue, having gotten what he wanted, didn’t rush to eat but kept staring at Huo Yanji in the driver’s seat.

 

Being stared at with such a brooding gaze would feel somewhat eerie to most, but Huo Yanji was obviously used to it, showing no change in expression and maintaining steady control of the steering wheel.

 

The humanoid creature in the glass container suffered though, constantly avoiding where Sang Jue’s hand rested, desperately shrinking into the corner.

 

“I know.” Sang Jue withdrew his gaze, quietly talking to himself: “You’re satisfying all my requests because I have to return underground for the sake of humans… this is called guilt, not true love.”

 

Huo Yanji calmly watched the bumpy dirt road ahead. They first had to pass through a stretch of gentle plains.

 

“But you don’t need to feel guilty. I agreed to conditions, and I don’t think this is bad. I don’t like the safe zones anyway—I’m just returning to where I originally was.”

 

“…Just returning to where you originally were.” Huo Yanji repeated.

 

Sang Jue made a questioning hum, waiting for the rest of Huo Yanji’s sentence, but there was no continuation.

 

He could feel Huo Yanji’s aura tightening again, as if angry, yet not quite angry.

 

He searched for something to say: “I negotiated four conditions with Ling Gen and the others. They agreed to all of them.”

 

Huo Yanji hummed without pursuing the topic.

 

Sang Jue asked: “Besides going to the Waste Waters, don’t you want to know the other three conditions?”

 

Huo Yanji said: “You don’t need to tell me.”

 

Sang Jue pressed his lips together, lowering his head and falling silent.

 

He opened the glass container to give the liquid matter some air. Despite having openings, it didn’t dare escape, only cowering in deeper positions.

 

Sang Jue put his hand inside, tearing it apart piece by piece like kneading clay, watching it instinctively writhe and coalesce, then tearing it apart again, then coalescing again, in endless cycles.

 

His actions carried a naive yet cruel quality, but the only human in the car didn’t stop him.

 

The vast plains kept receding under their speeding vehicle. Distant forests gradually came into view, with increasingly agitated monster sounds around them, which Sang Jue habitually ignored.

 

From the display panel, they had already driven thirty kilometers out of the Fifth District.

 

Suddenly, the harsh sound of emergency braking rang out. The black armored off-road vehicle abruptly stopped at the boundary between forest and plains.

 

Sang Jue sniffed—no monsters were approaching them for now.

 

He looked back uncertainly. There were indeed monster roars deep in the plains, but they had nothing to do with them.

 

Sang Jue felt they were having a cold war and didn’t want to initiate conversation, so he stuffed the nearby map into Huo Yanji’s arms, thinking he had forgotten the route.

 

However, Huo Yanji just naturally grasped his arm, and when he turned his head in confusion, grabbed his chin and suddenly leaned in for a kiss.

 

The kiss he hadn’t received before leaving the main city.

 

Their hurried breathing intertwined. Huo Yanji quickly ended this rushed kiss with restraint.

 

He cradled the back of Sang Jue’s head without pulling away, just pressing against Sang Jue’s forehead and closing his eyes: “Sang Jue, you sure you won’t regret it?”

 

Sang Jue fidgeted with his fingers and asked back: “Why would I regret it?”

 

“…”

 

Yes, why would he regret it?

 

His beloved Doctor was no longer there, and the humans he liked would all die one by one in the near future. And Huo Yanji, as his partner, could never put him first.

 

“Are you trying to get me to run away?” After saying this, Sang Jue felt something was wrong—this couldn’t be called running away, so he corrected himself: “Trying to get me to break the contract?”

 

“It’s ‘instigating.'”

 

“Oh… are you instigating me to break the contract?”

 

“Not exactly.” Huo Yanji slowly released Sang Jue’s neck, looking ahead: “You have the ability to leave, unrestricted. The final result isn’t under my control—

 

“I’m just, in the name of your legal husband… advising you to think clearly.”

 

They had just recited vows in the main city a few days ago—to know and stay with each other, never abandon each other, and protect each other’s interests.

 

Although they knew the vows couldn’t be realized, they had recited them very seriously.

 

Sang Jue was stunned for a moment, instinctively retorting: “You’re the wife, I’m your male, so I’m the husband.”

 

Huo Yanji hummed in agreement.

 

Sang Jue felt the frustration of punching cotton.

 

The car never started. Huo Yanji ate some dry rations—there were sandwiches in the bag. Sang Jue wasn’t interested and tore the humanoid creature apart piece by piece, eating it like dessert.

 

“I probably won’t regret it.” Sang Jue stared into the distance absently, suddenly saying quietly: “I just want to fulfill the Doctor’s wish.”

 

“You watched her deathbed video.” Huo Yanji stated.

 

“The Doctor only had two wishes—one was me, one was humanity.” Sang Jue lowered his eyes, his long black lashes trembling lightly. “But the wish representing humanity was very big, while the wish representing me was very small.”

 

During this time, Sang Jue gradually understood that for some people, personal feelings would never surpass faith and racial interests. Even Huo Jiangmian, who hated humans to the bone, was still doing things beneficial to humanity until his death.

 

Some loyalties were carved into one’s bones.

 

Sang Jue didn’t know if the Doctor would choose him if she were here, but he didn’t want to be chosen by the Doctor.

 

He didn’t want the Doctor to suffer.

 

Huo Yanji slowly gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles distinct, veins bulging on the back of his hands, skin stretched tight.

 

He wasn’t wearing military uniform today, but military uniform wasn’t just that heavy outfit—it was everywhere.

 

The deep forest swallowed the tiny armored vehicle, with light suddenly dimming around them, darker than night.

 

They drove intermittently through the night, finally reaching the outskirts of the Waste Waters research highland at dawn the next day.

 

The Waste Waters’ terrain was subtle, located beneath two collapsed canyons, with only a narrow sky-slit allowing a bit of light to filter down.

 

Sang Jue transformed into the evil dragon, carrying Huo Yanji to the highest point.

 

He looked down at everything, unable to see any trace of the former research institute.

 

The current Waste Waters was filthy, dark, and terrifying.

 

The vast research institute of yesteryear had been clean, tidy, bustling with people—not only laboratories, but also recreational facilities, artificial forests and streams.

 

Sang Jue’s eyes slowly reddened. He turned his head hesitantly and confirmed: “Did we go the wrong way?”

 

“We didn’t go wrong.” Huo Yanji said, “During the meteor season, this place was severely damaged. The original institute’s location sank down, the canyons on both sides collapsed, forming today’s terrain.”

 

The human sat on the evil dragon, diving toward the sky-slit between the two canyons. It was truly extremely narrow, only wide enough for an evil dragon to spread its wings.

 

Yet the interior space within the triangular shadow was extremely vast. The narrow skylight fell to the ground, illuminating only a strip of the dark area—everything else was invisible and eerily quiet.

 

Sang Jue chose relatively flat terrain to land, crouching with his feet together, motionless.

 

He saw some familiar things.

 

Dragon eyes pierced through the darkness, seeing parts of the former research institute’s buildings cut open, planted diagonally underground with only building corners exposed. The other half of the relatively intact buildings were also covered in black filth, emitting foul odors.

 

There were also some protruding dark substances slowly writhing at speeds barely visible to human eyes—it was unclear what they were.

 

As for the stream where Sang Jue once played… he turned his head to look at the slowly flowing black sewage nearby.

 

Just as the evil dragon’s claw reached out, Huo Yanji grabbed it, saying: “There are giant leeches in the water.”

 

The Waste Waters were full of monsters hiding in darkness, extremely contaminated.

 

Just as Huo Yanji finished speaking, faint rustling sounds came from nearby. His expression turned stern as he drew his gun, but then saw Sang Jue slash down with a claw, blood spraying in a circle!

 

Crushed under his foot was actually a centipede as long and thick as an adult woman’s leg, its dense legs struggling upward while its head tried to curl back and bite through the evil dragon’s leg.

 

However, though this part of Sang Jue’s skin had no scales, it was extremely rough and difficult to pierce. He raised his dragon wing high, skewering it like meat on a stick and hurling it toward distant boulders with a “bang!”

 

The entire deep canyon fell quiet for two seconds. Soon, the giant centipede, stunned from the impact, was swarmed for feeding—

 

The rustling sounds around them became particularly dense as various unidentifiable insect monsters emerged from dark places on all sides, dividing up the giant centipede that still had a breath left.

 

It couldn’t cry out, so it didn’t even make dying sounds.

 

“Be careful, don’t step directly with your feet.” Huo Yanji had already put on special gloves, his expression not particularly relaxed. “According to previous reports, the ratio of giant leeches to water in this black water is 5:1. The largest centipedes are about eight meters long, weighing at least 800 pounds.”

 

These creatures also moved extremely fast with very little noise—any relaxation would be fatal.

 

Most terrifying was that the ratio of monsters to area in the entire Waste Waters region was 2:1, meaning any patch of ground you randomly stepped on might hide unknown monsters in the darkness, watching you.

 

The dark, humid interior of the canyon was the best breeding ground for dark creatures.

 

Huo Yanji looked up: “Eighty percent of the research institute has sunk underground. We’ll first enter through these exposed buildings, then go down.”

 

Sang Jue had begun buzzing—there were too many monster sounds around, so dense it was difficult to distinguish each source.

 

And whether due to the collapse of Rift No. 2 and the aurora anomaly at Eye of Paradise, Sang Jue felt these monsters’ desire for him had increased.

 

As long as they were within sensing range of him, they would ignore Huo Yanji nearby and attack him without hesitation.

 

Streams of dark blood splattered through the air. The light was too dim to see blood staining the ground or rocks.

 

Sang Jue simply scooped up Huo Yanji with his dragon claws, directly smashing through a high window and diving into the half-building.

 

But inside wasn’t peaceful either—dense masses of black larvae gathered together like a giant monster, writhing with strange black skin.

 

“Don’t move.”

 

Huo Yanji stopped Sang Jue from trying to stomp them to death and pulled out a bottle of fire magma—the same type originally deployed in District Seven’s sewers.

 

With a “crack,” the glass container shattered across the floor. The larvae scattered and fled like receding tide, but were still caught by the towering flames and quickly burned to ash.

 

Huo Yanji said: “Long-legged caterpillars use buildings as nests to breed larvae. When they grow larger, they’ll go out to devour other creatures.”

 

“Roar.” Sang Jue was obviously in a bad mood, his dragon scales taut.

 

They crossed the larval nest and entered the former external corridor of the research institute. At the end lay a skeleton.

 

Based on the skeleton’s condition, it should have died just a few months ago, but its flesh was completely clean—all had become nutrients for monsters.

 

The reason no corpses could be seen outside the black water wasn’t because no one had died, but because some contaminants ate people without even spitting out bones.

 

Sang Jue behind him called out: “Roar—”

 

Huo Yanji didn’t need to turn around to understand his meaning: “The Waste Waters contamination source is difficult to kill with individual strength, you—”

 

A lifting force struck him. Seemingly not expecting Sang Jue to attack him, a trace of bewilderment flashed through Huo Yanji’s eyes. He was knocked over and rolled several times by the force of the evil dragon’s wing, landing right in a nearby room.

 

This used to be an office and was relatively safe, with only some small insects. Sang Jue stepped on them one by one, then charged out with claw marks, also knocking down a nearby iron cabinet to block the door.

 

Huo Yanji shouted sternly: “Sang Jue!!”

 

The little evil dragon flew toward the deeper areas without looking back.

 

He couldn’t endure it.

 

Even less could he imagine that during the time he slumbered peacefully in space, the Doctor’s remains had decayed in such a place for decades. Perhaps already devoured by monsters, perhaps hidden somewhere relatively safe…

 

Lonely, dark, with no companionship.

 

Day after day, waiting for a dragon who didn’t know when he would return.

 

Something inside Sang Jue’s chest seemed to shatter, never to be pieced together again.

 

In his ears was the sound of the Doctor gently calling his name from the past. In his mind was the image of himself biting the Doctor’s white coat and following her to work step by step. Before his eyes… before his eyes were only darkness and monsters.

 

He charged forward while roaring lowly. The entire decayed and filthy Waste Waters echoed with dragon cries—the sharp, piercing dragon roars even penetrated the canyon’s sky-slit, reverberating for a long time.

 

***

 

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