EDEH Chapter 144

The low dragon roars gradually faded into the distance, becoming increasingly unclear as they flew toward the depths.

 

Just from the exterior, the Waste Waters research base had a small building area, but actually most of it had sunk underground during the meteor season and the later battle when Huo Feng disappeared.

 

The canyons on both sides blocked out all light, so humans had completely abandoned this dark place.

 

In the sixty years since Huo Feng’s disappearance, the Waste Waters had continuously bred new dark contaminants. Initially, the city would officially issue some Waste Waters-related mercenary missions, like retrieving certain samples or data from the laboratory.

 

Later, too many mercenaries died here, so the authorities gradually stopped issuing missions and only sent specialized military squads—but the death rate remained absurdly high.

 

Later still, the military only came once a year.

 

This year’s dispatch was Team Eight. Except for Captain Lu Tiancong, the entire team was wiped out, and Lu Tiancong eventually committed suicide unable to accept it.

 

When Sang Jue had knocked him away just now, he hadn’t held back his strength. Huo Yanji’s shoulder hit the ground with a sharp pain.

 

He acted as if he hadn’t heard, trying to ram the door open, but it didn’t budge.

 

Being a century-old building, even the internal office door frame was of exceptional quality. The glass in the middle of the door could be broken, but the opening was too small to crawl through.

 

He went to the window. The exterior wall was very high, with darkness below making it impossible to see what was there—only faint sounds of monsters tearing and biting could be heard in the distance.

 

This room had sealed floor-to-ceiling windows of excellent glass quality, which explained why there were no monsters.

 

Huo Yanji tried to open the window, but it also wouldn’t budge.

 

Dark environments always bred stray thoughts, or perhaps worry clouded judgment.

 

Huo Yanji closed his eyes. As the old general had said, he had been planning to resolve the Waste Waters issue for years, so he had studied the building blueprints multiple times.

 

The blueprints were also incomplete—the complete ones had long been destroyed in disasters. The current routes had all been explored with human lives.

 

If he remembered correctly, the century-old research base had sealed construction requiring high ventilation standards, with duct sizes that could accommodate adult male bodies.

 

Huo Yanji held up his flint lamp, looking around but finding no ventilation ducts.

 

However, offices like this usually had a sealed archive room on the side. Huo Yanji walked right for a stretch and indeed found a small room with half-wall glass shattered on the floor.

 

He directly vaulted over using the broken glass. The sharp glass points left no scratches on his special gloves, though his palms underneath the leather were poked red.

 

Sure enough, there was a ventilation duct here, though at least three meters from the ground. The iron grating over the vent had lost a screw and was covered in rust.

 

Huo Yanji didn’t rush up. He calmly opened his backpack, using spider silk tape to wrap his cuffs and pant legs until they were airtight, while switching to a full-face sealed protective mask.

 

After confirming no skin was exposed, he dragged over a half-ruined table, stood on it to tear down the iron grating, and tested the ventilation speed with his hand.

 

Only after everything checked out did he throw his backpack—about as heavy as Sang Jue—inside, then followed after it.

 

Crawling through ventilation ducts in such a place was extremely dangerous. The slightest movement in the metal ducts would make noise, greatly increasing the chance of attracting monsters—and there might already be monsters inside the ducts.

 

Huo Yanji moved slowly forward while recalling the known Waste Waters building blueprints.

 

Even in such circumstances, his thinking remained flawless, always considering all factors and preparing for the worst outcomes.

 

After countless left and right turns, Huo Yanji finally reached his destination—a ventilation outlet with an elevator shaft below.

 

Just as he broke through the outlet grating, a roar came from behind—

 

A giant rat covered in spines was charging straight at him!

 

Though the ventilation duct was already extremely spacious, the rat’s obese body still filled it completely. Its mouth was still hanging with flesh and blood from other creatures, its scarlet eyes particularly terrifying.

 

Huo Yanji couldn’t turn around and had no time to assess the environment below. He could only jump down without hesitation, his leg directly hitting abandoned metal plates. But there was no time to feel the pain—he instantly rolled away from his landing spot.

 

The rat, half as long as Huo Yanji’s body, crashed down with a tremendous “bang!!”

 

Huo Yanji retreated while firing two shots at its eyes. The muffled gunshots under the silencer were very dull, but the wounded giant rat didn’t fall—it only became more frenzied, charging at incredible agile speed—

 

“Clang—”

 

The human in front suddenly fell backward during his retreat. The giant rat, caught off guard, couldn’t brake in time and also rushed in, its body immediately becoming airborne as it plummeted heavily into the empty elevator shaft.

 

After several consecutive “clangs,” the falling sounds finally stopped, leaving only faint echoes.

 

But Huo Yanji, who seemed to have fallen, was actually pressed steadily against the elevator shaft wall, gripping the edge with one hand. From the time it took the rat to fall, he could judge the elevator shaft was about six or seven stories high.

 

He pulled himself up and slowly climbed out.

 

There was no time to catch his breath, because Huo Yanji had discovered traces of Sang Jue. The surrounding walls were carved with fresh cracks—clearly the work of sharp dragon wings.

 

The area around the elevator shaft could be so quiet now thanks to Sang Jue clearing the path ahead. Blood spatters were everywhere, with corpses in corners. If Huo Yanji weren’t wearing a mask, his entire nasal cavity would be filled with putrid stench.

 

He pulled a round explosive from his pack, placed it in a nearby wall corner, set the timer but didn’t activate it. Then he opened his climbing rope, secured the grappling hook, and backed down the dark elevator shaft.

 

A flashlight was strapped to his arm. Huo Yanji frowned as he surveyed the surrounding environment—

 

The deeper he went, the more unidentifiable creatures appeared on the walls—all writhing masses of unknown flesh-like substances. They didn’t seem like monsters with independent mobility, yet appeared somehow alive.

 

He tried to avoid them as much as possible, but because the building itself had sunk, the horizontal surfaces weren’t level. The elevator shaft was also tilted toward the right. When he didn’t control it well, the rope would swing him into the shaft wall behind him.

 

Veins bulged under his clothing as Huo Yanji placed three bombs in sequence on the elevator shaft walls. After a long time, the rope reached its end, and he could see the ground.

 

He was still three or four meters from the ground—jumping down wouldn’t be a big problem, but he probably wouldn’t be able to get back up. The research institute was already scrapped, the building falling apart. The elevator shaft was the only downward passage previous explorers had found.

 

But Huo Yanji still released his grip without hesitation, landing on a sticky substance.

 

The slime under his feet was dark red, stretching in strings when he lifted his legs, making walking somewhat strange and difficult. But Huo Yanji’s furrowed brow wasn’t because of it—

 

He raised his hand, and where the flashlight beam reached was a fresh oval skeleton. It was called fresh because blood threads still remaining on the skeleton were dripping blood.

 

It was the mutated rat that had just fallen down.

 

Huo Yanji checked the time. It had taken him twelve minutes to climb down, and this rat weighing at least 200 pounds had been completely devoured during that time without making a sound.

 

Huo Yanji lightened his movements and dimmed his flashlight by two settings.

 

The more creatures preferred living in darkness, the more sensitive they were to light.

 

There were many chaotic obstacles around, all covered in sticky slime, and Sang Jue’s traces ended here, as if he had never been there.

 

The surface maps of the Waste Waters had all been explored—there should be no other passages. Where could Sang Jue have gone?

 

Huo Yanji placed a bomb here as usual and continued forward. Though the environment was poor along this route, almost no monsters could be seen, completely inconsistent with the danger level Lu Tiancong had recently reported.

 

The path was also slanted, but fortunately the substance underfoot was only sticky, not slippery, avoiding the embarrassing scene of sliding all the way down.

 

He moved forward unhurriedly, his calm eyes replaying that first meeting—Sang Jue sliding down the moss-covered slope to his feet like something heaven-sent.

 

He had instinctively drawn his gun, aiming at Sang Jue’s lowered, rigid head: “Look up.”

 

They were soaked through, meeting eyes in the downpour. Those eyes were cleaner and purer than anything washed by rain.

 

They easily stirred the heart of a young general.

 

But at that time, it was merely stirring, nothing more.

 

…

 

Footsteps came from the darkness to the side. Huo Yanji frowned slightly, slowing his pace and turning off the weak flashlight. His gun-holding right hand rested on his left, precisely aiming toward the darkness.

 

Years of combat experience gave him confidence in blind shooting, but a familiar voice came from that direction: “Are you going to kill me?”

 

“Sang Jue?”

 

Huo Yanji turned on his flashlight, and Sang Jue’s figure gradually appeared before him. He was completely naked, his skin stained with blood threads from other creatures, his eye sockets red, lips pressed tightly together as if he might cry at any moment.

 

He said softly: “I didn’t find the Doctor.”

 

Huo Yanji said slowly: “After so much time has passed, not finding a body is normal.”

 

Sang Jue stood at neither close nor far distance, his brow lowered: “I just wanted to take the Doctor back to my home… my home in the depths.”

 

In this vast world, there was no place for him.

 

Huo Yanji didn’t respond.

 

Sang Jue talked to himself: “Don’t you really want to know what conditions I negotiated with Ling Gen and them?”

 

“What?”

 

“You—the condition is you.” Sang Jue gazed at Huo Yanji, slowly continuing: “They agreed. From that moment, you belonged to me. Only by devouring you will I willingly return to the depths and never wake again.”

 

“Then what are you waiting for?”

 

“Waiting for the Doctor’s remains…” Sang Jue murmured, his trembling voice as if about to cry: “I thought she was still there, she was still there…”

 

He approached Huo Yanji step by step, reaching out as if wanting an embrace.

 

But he abruptly stopped mid-air, tremblingly making a request: “Let me devour you… Yanji.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Seemingly not expecting Huo Yanji to agree so readily, Sang Jue was stunned for a moment, then immediately lunged toward Huo Yanji’s embrace—but what awaited him was only a sharp knife point.

 

An explosive sound burst forth. The Sang Jue in front instantly vanished into smoke, leaving only a puddle of bloody flesh.

 

Huo Yanji looked down with a cold expression, wiping the blood from his knife: “Your version is too outdated.”

 

Ever since learning “wife” from Colin, Sang Jue rarely used the term “Yanji” anymore.

 

But just as he turned to continue forward, he saw a familiar figure standing at the edge of his flashlight beam, eyes wide with shock, clearly having witnessed the scene of him unhesitatingly killing the fake version of himself.

 

Just as Huo Yanji stepped forward, Sang Jue instinctively stepped back, his eyes full of panic and confusion.

 

·

 

Main City.

 

The old general stood by the window, gazing at the distant aurora, his eyes reflecting mottled gray.

 

Though dark-toned, it could still be so bright.

 

He asked: “Do you think Yanji knows about our deal with Sang Jue?”

 

Ling Gen was silent for a while: “Maybe he knows, maybe he doesn’t, but the result isn’t something we can control, nor something he can control.”

 

The final decision was in Sang Jue’s hands.

 

After dealing with him for so long, they clearly understood that the possibility of humans controlling Sang Jue with current methods was minimal.

 

And Sang Jue didn’t really need to make deals with them—if he wanted Huo Yanji, he could just take him directly. If he could take him once, he could take him a second time.

 

“He wants Yanji to be disappointed in humanity.” The old general easily saw through the little monster’s thoughts, saying calmly, “That’s why he wants us to initiate the vote.”

 

“According to the second agreement, the voting will begin tomorrow morning.”

 

Sang Jue didn’t require the vote to explain specific details, didn’t even need to name names—just one simple statement:

 

If sacrificing one military officer who had devoted himself wholeheartedly to humanity could end this contamination disaster lasting hundreds of years, what choice would they make?

 

This wasn’t a joke, but an official vote initiated by the authorities.

 

The old general turned around, assembling gun parts on the table. He was getting old—this gun had been with him for thirty years, ever since he was promoted to Major General and entered the circle of human high command.

 

This gun had witnessed as much bloodshed as he had witnessed dirty deeds.

 

Ling Gen seemed to know what was about to happen, calmly watching the old general load the gun until a click—it was chambered.

 

“According to the third agreement, it’s your turn—” The old general exhaled deeply, raising those aged eyes. “Should I help you, or do it yourself?”

 

Ling Gen took the gun and looked at it for a moment: “I’ll do it myself.”

 

The old general turned to leave. Just as he was about to cross the threshold, he paused and said without looking back: “Even without this bullet that Sang Jue requested, you only had two or three years left anyway—not too much of a loss.

 

“If there’s a chance, I won’t let your historical reputation be stained… assuming humanity still has history.”

 

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