Chapter 85: Acquiring the Second-Tier Primal Body

7:40 p.m. Jicheng led his team of ability users forward through the inner honeycomb sector.

“Special Experiments Division,” Centipede muttered, reading the sign above the door. “This place might yield something.”

Before them, the laboratory had been so overtaken by mineralization that even the doors had solidified into sandstone, most of which had collapsed. The depths beyond lay shrouded in darkness.

With a sharp movement, Lei Junming, one of the team’s vanguards, darted forward without a word. A tactical leap brought him flush with the stony roots at the threshold.

“I hear machinery running,” he reported, peering into the gloom through a gap in the rubble. “The room’s big. Within sight, there’s only an arched alarm device.”

“Fire a flare, suppress the sound,” Jicheng instructed from the rear.

A glowing red flare shot in through the stone crevice. Lei Junming relayed the scene in rapid bursts:

“Three gene vats. Four magnetic resonance microscopes. Seven or eight unknown machines. Lots of test tubes and glass distillation rigs. One full condensation line.”

“And two mechanical sentinels, both active.”

The first part of his report stirred excitement among the group. Even the mention of the mechanical sentinels couldn’t douse their eagerness.

“Stay calm, everyone,” Jicheng murmured. “This is likely a site for destructive experimentation on second-tier gene prototypes. The chance of finding samples is high. But don’t forget, we still have a fight ahead of us.”

“Once inside, obey my orders. Spread out in open ground to avoid ambushes from the shadows. The sentinels’ movements are restricted—they usually won’t use firearms in a lab. As long as we keep our distance, the dozen or so of us can wear them down.”

“Understood,” they all nodded gravely.

Jicheng’s tone was light, but they all knew the truth—there would be casualties. These were two entire mechanical sentinels, after all.

But with second-tier prototypes at stake, who would back down?

“Breach and clear!” Jicheng swept his hand, signaling the assault.

Their formation shifted. Centipede, Lei Junming, Tian Gang, and Liu Fangjian—the four strongest—took the lead in a line, Jicheng behind them as commander, the rest falling in at the rear.

Jicheng slotted a glass tube filled with yellow liquid, tipped with metal, into a crack in the rock.

Boom!

The rock fractured and split—a one-way chemical charge, nicknamed the ‘Bottle Opener,’ instantly cleared the entry.

Gunfire erupted. Even before the dust settled, the five at the front opened fire.

The two humanoid sentinels, eyes aglow with red, locked onto the intruders. But to everyone’s shock, they melted and split into over thirty smaller sentinels.

From every direction, the swarm descended—cold and relentless, their steps on steel like the hammering of war drums.

“Liquid metal sentinels—they divide according to enemy numbers. Don’t panic.”

Jicheng fired his Blackrock K-90 pistol, bullets flying, while with his other hand he unfastened a fresh magazine from his thigh holster.

Even commanders must stand the front lines in an assault.

“Hold formation. Focus fire on the frontmost targets—their defense is low. Take them down as fast as possible.”

He stepped forward, flanking Lei Junming with Centipede, covering the front and oblique approach.

Lei Junming’s shotgun was perfect for this—high stopping power and spread. Handguns could do damage but were less effective at halting the advance.

Liu Fangjian and Tian Gang covered the flanks.

The nine behind provided supporting fire, with Luo Rao, who was of little use, keeping to the rear.

Once the liquid sentinels finished dividing, they hardened again, but lacked ranged attacks. Gunfire filled the air; shotgun blasts sent metal shrapnel flying, forcing the sentinels back.

“Control your fire. Rotate reloads—don’t leave any gaps. Keep pushing forward.”

The team stood like a reef in a raging current—buffeted, but unbroken.

The sentinels’ tough frames could at least withstand non-critical hits, making precise shooting a challenge.

—

Either aim for the sensors in their heads, or lay down suppressive fire in a sweeping barrage.

“Die!”

“Go for the head, the head!”

Finally, a squat sentinel closed to melee range.

Zzz—

A piercing thrust whistled by, scraping past Centipede’s quick dodge and showering the floor with sparks.

“If they get close, dodge their lunges—don’t get greedy for kills, better to fire less than to take a wound.”

Even as he spoke, Jicheng kept firing, blasting one sentinel’s sensor to pieces. Sparks flew; the machine spun wildly, disabled.

Though Jicheng’s orders were sharp and timely, more and more sentinels pressed into close quarters.

With every shot, they had to shift position to avoid attacks. Rate of fire dropped, letting more sentinels close in.

The formation began to fray.

“This can’t go on. If the line breaks, my sister will be in danger.”

If something happened to Luo Rao, Jicheng didn’t dare imagine what state he’d be in.

As things reached a breaking point, a monstrous claw lashed from the shadows at a member of the Redhawk unit.

Rip.

Her crimson suit was torn open, high-strength fibers snapping.

A moment later, another claw seized her shoulder, slicing down as if it were nothing but butter, piercing her sternum and heart.

“It’s that creature!” Fu Ting shouted, tossing an acid grenade. A hiss of corrosion and a cloud of yellow-green vapor, but only a hole in the floor—the creature had already withdrawn.

It had grown slower.

Jicheng, with his keen dynamic vision and resonance sense, noticed the subtle change at once.

“Hold on, keep the formation! Only a few sentinels left!”

He kept firing, more and more sentinels collapsing or being destroyed.

“Block the attack on the left!” Shana, who had been scanning with her senses, called out.

Jicheng’s left hand, just about to reload, dropped the magazine and silently turned a deep blue-black.

Tyrant serum—activated.

Hiss—

In a clash with no wasted movement, the claw barely left a shallow scratch on his hardened palm, while the redirected K-90 pistol shot struck its arm, sending it back into the shadows.

“Well done,” Jicheng thought, praising Shana silently. If not for her, he’d probably have been hurt.

With the monster gone for now, he reloaded the Blackrock pistol.

“Push the line out a little—make space to dodge, don’t bunch up! Rear, another flare, the light’s fading!”

That should keep his sister safer.

A red flare arced out from the rear.

Jicheng fired two more shots, then, as another squat sentinel hurtled toward him, drew his steel dagger. A quick step back and turn, and he swept the blade in a horizontal arc at its head.

Crack.

He had meant only to put all his force into the blow, but with Shana’s combat module assisting, his aim was perfect—the blade bit into the sensor seam, carving a finger-deep notch and sending the head flying.

“Shana, look for a hacking interface.”

He was about to finish the job, but saw the stricken sentinel topple into the crowd. In a blink, its steel body dissolved, melting into a pool of metal.

—

Like a struggling shadow, it merged into the body of another sentinel, forming a larger, more formidable entity.

Still, it stood little more than a meter and a half tall.

“Watch out!” cried the nine ability users providing covering fire at the rear.

A flash of silver, and the recombined sentinel charged Jicheng like an out-of-control truck.

Zzz—

Steel clashed with steel, dagger meeting metal palm. The tip struck a weak point in the machine’s leverage, piercing a diamond-shaped hole at the wrist joint; the metal arm, meant for Jicheng’s chest, jerked upward, and with a slight tilt of his head, he let it pass.

The sentinels’ bodies were made of gallium-particle positive fluid, a first-tier materials science substance. In theory, a crude steel dagger couldn’t pierce it.

But after melting and dividing, the material’s density and internal cohesion dropped, leaving it vulnerable to Jicheng’s blow.

It wasn’t a perfect contest of strength, but the effect was spectacular—the ability users behind him were momentarily stunned.

Was this Jicheng’s true strength? He could outfight a mechanical sentinel at close quarters!

“Keep firing.”

…

Seven minutes later.

Fragments of metal littered the floor. The ability users, some squatting, others sitting, sprawled without dignity, surrounded by a ring of energy barriers reducing the radiation.

“Jicheng’s command was brilliant, and he’s so strong—otherwise we’d have lost more people.”

“Exactly. Only one casualty in all that danger.”

“Really lucky. In four years as an ability user, I’ve never been so rattled. If Jicheng hadn’t shot out that sentinel’s sensor in time, I’d be dead now.”

Though they still called him by name, there was new respect in their voices.

This was the reality of the mines: strength and skill earned respect.

“Shouldn’t we hurry up and look for the gene prototypes?” Tian Gang, clutching his wound, looked to Jicheng.

He’d lost half his right hand in the fight; from the base of his thumb to his little finger, only splintered bone and bloody flesh remained.

“Old Liu and the others already went—by the time you catch up, the prize will be gone!” Centipede coughed up blood with a grin.

He sat, massive frame hunched, a deep gash at his left ribs, flesh torn and bloody, but his mood was buoyant—to have survived, and to have hope of finding a second-tier prototype.

“So, the prototype goes to your Southport team?” Tian Gang was taken aback.

“Don’t worry. Anything found in a lab we all fought for will be shared by contribution. Besides, this is just the beginning—there’ll be more.”

As Luo Rao checked him for injuries, Jicheng smiled.

“You’re not hurt, A’Cheng,” Luo Rao’s voice was muffled.

“I know I’m unhurt. Can you take your head out of my shirt now?”

“Oh, right.”

Tap, tap, tap.

Footsteps approached. Liu Fangjian returned with several others.

“Hey Old Liu, we were just talking about you. How’d it go?” Centipede called.

Liu Fangjian held up a briefcase, a rare smile breaking his stoic face. “Five samples!”

P.S. A note on fluid dynamics: the internal pressure of any positively-pressurized fluid is only a function of its density.