Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Lizard's Eye

Ji Cheng couldn’t resist Luo Rao’s persistence and finally showed her the photo. He knew very well that, for the most part, Luo Rao wasn’t particularly wicked or evil—at most, she was a little out of the ordinary. Her desire to see the photo was likely just curiosity. As for her earlier intent to kill Su Yi, he still hadn’t figured that out.

“Put your combat suit on too—the base vehicle is slowing down, so we must be close to setting up camp,” he said, pulling on the gloves that came with his combat gear, securing the biochemical mask, and arming himself fully.

No sooner had he said this than the base vehicle came to a halt. Looking out the window, he saw four rows of tracks splitting apart as the central axle drove into the sand, and the living compartment they occupied began to descend.

The compartment, barely over ten square meters, shook violently. Ji Cheng managed, but Luo Rao had to cling to him just to stay upright. The living module was technically designed for one—this mission was intended for those with abilities, and although bringing along an ordinary person wasn’t against the rules, the amenities didn’t account for it. Whether it was accommodations, basic supplies, or even the ID cards required to enter the Hive, there was only provision for one.

But for them, food and water weren’t a problem, and as long as they stayed together, the ID card issue was manageable. As for sleeping arrangements—so long as Ji Cheng didn’t mind, Luo Rao would’ve dreamed of nothing else but sharing a bed with him.

The living compartment sank almost to ground level and then stilled, the earlier tremors vanishing like a mirage.

The two stepped outside into the desert, hot, scorching sand immediately swallowing their calves. The sand was much deeper than in the Crimson Mist Wasteland.

Before them stretched a vast, indistinct wind-eroded depression, the earth so cracked and ruined it seemed utterly parched and hopeless. In the distance stood crumbling shale cliffs and “mushroom blocks”—rocks with large tops and narrow bases, resembling mushrooms.

All signs pointed to the fact that they were now deep within the heart of the desert.

“Ah Cheng, look—the vehicle’s shell is ruined, and even the inside is exposed,” Luo Rao suddenly pulled him aside.

At her prompting, Ji Cheng was startled to realize that the entire vehicle’s exterior was pitted and blotched, corroded by some unknown liquid, the external armor looking like a torn-open bun. Even the compartment itself bore fist-sized blister-like craters, mist rising with an acrid stench. It was clear that the journey hadn’t been as safe as it appeared from inside.

Ji Cheng smiled. “It’s not broken, just the shell’s damaged.”

The vehicle’s external armor was like clothing—designed for easy replacement. Even serious damage wouldn’t affect other functions.

As if affirming his words, the base vehicle began to split apart and rotate, the engine repositioning itself downward, the tracks burrowing deep into the sand, and a six-meter-high steel wall rising from the rear, linking with other base vehicles until there was no sign of its original form.

Once at their destination, this contraption could be quickly deployed as a fixed base—essential for exploring mines, ruins, or laboratories.

Aside from serving as supply and defense, its most important function was to provide command signals. Without command, nothing could proceed.

Around the edges of the depression, a few ability users were planting canisters fitted with bulbs every fifteen meters or so.

“Silent locks—they block out sound and are essential for setting up camp,” Ji Cheng explained as he noticed Luo Rao’s curiosity.

“I see. You really know a lot, Ah Cheng,” she replied with a sweet smile.

“Brother Zhou is over there.”

They spotted Zhou Ze in the distance and walked over.

“Brother Zhou, where’s the Hive?” Ji Cheng asked.

Zhou Ze raised his hand and pointed at the barren sand ahead—so empty not even a blade of grass grew.

“Right beneath us. They discovered a ‘Lizard’s Eyeball’-type mine here—the Hive Laboratory’s vent is at the bottom of the cavity, right at the retina.”

“Oh, a Lizard’s Eyeball. No wonder there’s nothing to see,” Ji Cheng replied, suddenly understanding.

He recalled reading about it: a massive mine that, once formed, created an enormous underground spherical void, with geological structures resembling those of an eyeball. The top opening was covered by two layers of rock resembling ciliary bodies, with countless vines lining the concave walls, much like a choroid. At the bottom were dense cracks and rocks, mimicking the retina and optic nerves. In addition, the “Lizard’s Eyeball” had a layer of sandy soil forming an eyelid at the top, blending seamlessly with the surface and completely concealing the mine.

Rumble, rumble.

As Zhou Ze spoke, a drilling machine rumbled over. He glanced at the sand in the machine’s path and turned to Ji Cheng.

“After only two or three years, the eyelid’s closed again. Time to make it open its eye.”

Ji Cheng nodded in understanding. The hallmark of this kind of mine was that as long as the crystal ore below wasn’t fully extracted, the sandy layer at the top would eerily close up from time to time, as if alive. This was known as the Lizard’s Eye Closing.

“Ji Cheng, Luo Rao.”

From beside the base vehicle, Zhang Lingfei and Zhang Jing’e called, “Come join us for something to eat—we’ve got at least five or six hours before we can go in.”

Ji Cheng agreed and told Zhou Ze, “Brother Zhou, I’m going to grab a bite. Haven’t eaten all day.”

“Go ahead,” Zhou Ze replied with a smile.

Even before they approached, the boisterous chatter of the ability users reached their ears. By now, almost everyone had disembarked the base vehicles, and with the silent locks in place, they didn’t differ much from ordinary people—men and women alike laughed and talked loudly.

Ji Cheng recognized most of them—people he’d eaten with before. Only the few from Councilor Yao’s team were unfamiliar; they’d only met once when customizing their data ether bodies.

“Let’s sit over here, I don’t feel like mingling with that bunch,” Zhang Lingfei suggested, stretching—her curves striking even in that simple gesture.

“Here is fine,” Ji Cheng agreed. He’d noticed that the Zhang sisters, though nominally under Councilor Yao, didn’t really fit in with the rest.

So, rather than parade himself before Councilor Yao, he was more than happy to chat with three lovely young women over here.

With the decision made, neither Luo Rao nor Zhang Jing’e objected, and the four set up a small table to eat and chat.

“Ji Cheng, I heard you discovered a new type of mine?”

“Just luck,” Ji Cheng replied, swallowing a piece of dried bean curd.

“Thought of a name yet?”

“No. If you’re interested, I’ll sell you the naming rights cheap.”

Night gradually fell. In the distance, the drill still rumbled, the sound of its bit changing from a faint hiss to a deep clang—a sign it had broken through the sand and was about to reach the bedrock.

If the daytime Horned Desert displayed its solemn majesty, then at night it quieted, with only a gentle wind stirring the sand waves. If one ignored the faint whistling and the occasional beast’s roar, Ji Cheng almost found it pleasant, even soothing.

In the flickering lamplight, Zhang Lingfei sipped the last drops of broth from her foil bowl.

“If you can sleep, you’d best go back to your rooms and nap a bit—there’s still five or six hours to go,” she said lightly, but her ragged breath and the way she rubbed her fingers betrayed her nervousness, even more so than her sister Zhang Jing’e.

Suddenly, the sand around them began to dance.