Chapter 88: They Cannot Possibly Enter the Central District

“Can’t you crack it?” Zuo Hao’s brows were tightly knit, his expression twisted in pain. A long, jagged gash tore from his abdomen to his hip, yet not a single drop of blood flowed from it.

“I don’t have the ability,” came the reply.

“What do you mean? I risked everything to break into the queen’s chamber, and now I get nothing?” Although Yao Lun had granted him this research supervisor’s ID card, he had never actually entered the queen’s chamber himself—perhaps no one in Nankang City-State ever had. Everything that unfolded before Zuo Hao was shrouded in uncertainty.

He probed at his wound, revealing insides riddled with countless blister-like abscesses, their dense sheen reflecting beneath the screen’s light. Each time he moved, yellow pus seeped out, only to be reabsorbed like water into a sponge.

“It’s not that bad. You just can’t retrieve the directory, so you won’t know what type each numbered gene prototype is. But if you’re willing, you can draw a few at random,” the boy replied swiftly, fingers brushing across a glowing screen.

Zuo Hao smashed the instrument panel before him with his pistol, the sound ringing out sharply. “I accept! Draw them now!”

Intense pain, weakness, and high-level radiation had rendered him irritable and volatile.

“As a research supervisor, you can apply for up to ten second-tier gene prototypes at once. Five may be used for destructive experiments; the remaining five must be returned intact within a week.”

“Spare me the details—I’m not a real researcher. Once I have the prototypes, I’m gone; return them? Not a chance.”

Data streams flickered across the boy’s eyes as he instantly submitted the request.

—Research Supervisor Wei Changshun, application for ten second-tier gene prototypes.

A translucent, cube-shaped containment unit rose before Zuo Hao, its smooth surfaces reflecting his shadow. Inside, he could barely make out the blurry forms of ten vials.

But the containment unit was completely sealed.

—Application suspended. Central control node rejected.

“What’s going on?” Zuo Hao stared at the cube, his words measured.

“Removal requires biometric identification,” the boy answered seriously.

“Are you playing games with me? Know your place—you’re just an advanced artificial intelligence!” Zuo Hao finally lost control, roaring in fury. He turned, pointing his gun at the boy, the barrel less than ten centimeters from his forehead.

“I truly meant no offense. You misunderstood.”

Bang, bang, bang.

He fired several shots in quick succession. The bullets passed through the boy’s illusory body, striking the cover of a gene storage unit behind.

“Don’t be anxious—I’ll try to find another way,” the boy said calmly, raising his pale, unmarked arm. The absolute loyalty of the data ether body left him with no dissatisfaction, only concern for Zuo Hao.

“What other way?” Zuo Hao struggled to suppress his anger.

“Perhaps we can shut down this so-called central control node. I’ve analyzed it; it likely governs all basic infrastructure in the central region. If we deactivate it, the biometric system here will fail.”

Zuo Hao shook his head, trying to clear the ringing in his ears. “So where is this central control node?”

The boy placed his finger on Zuo Hao’s wrist computer, which immediately projected a screen of light.

“Look at this 3D map. The central region is shaped like a droplet. Aside from a few rooms at the top, the main queen’s chamber and the surrounding secondary chambers form the core. To maximize transmission efficiency, the central node should be located at the geometric center of the droplet.”

Zuo Hao pointed at the map. “So it’s only separated from here by three secondary chambers—no more than twelve hundred meters in a straight line.”

The boy frowned slightly. “But if we really shut down the central node, all defense and access systems might lose power. If someone else sneaks into the central area…”

“Impossible,” Zuo Hao interrupted, breathing heavily. “Other people’s ID cards are useless in the central region. Now that the hive lab has become a terrifying mining zone, they wouldn’t dare enter the central area.”

“That’s true,” the boy nodded, his spectral figure untouched by any hint of humanity.

“Let’s go.” Zuo Hao pulled his ID card from the slot and limped out of the queen’s chamber.

…

“Hey, what are we even here for?” Yuan Feng asked. He was an ability user from Anxi City, clad in a gray-white combat suit, his boots thick with mud, grit, and dried blood.

He looked ordinary, his face covered by a thin, bio-mask—hard to notice unless you looked closely.

“To find second-tier gene prototypes,” Lei Junming replied, lifting his gaze.

“So what are we doing now?” Yuan Feng sighed, helpless.

“We’re dosing up,” Lei Junming said, injecting a chelating agent into his neck with his single arm to mitigate radiation injuries.

“Why aren’t we inside looking for gene prototypes instead of wasting time here? It’s been hours, and we’ve only searched two secondary chambers,” another whispered.

“Ask Ji Cheng,” Lei Junming pointed to the figure standing with his back to the group not far away.

“Forget it. I won’t, or I’ll get labeled as someone who doesn’t trust the commander.”

The young man leading the team looked barely older than his peers, but his steady approach, rational orders, and familiarity with the mining zone had helped them avoid countless risks. His resolute performance in tough fights had won everyone’s respect.

They’d passed five secondary chambers so far. Three doors were firmly shut, two had been searched. Other than the initial casualty—an ability user killed by the monster transformed by Pang Weiwei—there had been no further losses.

For the hive lab, now turned mining zone and especially its central area, this achievement was remarkable.

Thus, even if Ji Cheng’s orders sometimes seemed inexplicable, the team accepted them patiently.

“Hmph, let’s wait. I trust he has his reasons,” Tian Gang said, unfazed by the implied criticism.

His injured hand had been disinfected and bandaged, hanging from his chest, while his good hand polished his weapon with oil.

No one found Tian Gang’s attitude strange. Ever since Ji Cheng had relinquished the gene prototype and single-handedly killed that terrifying monster, Tian Gang had become his staunch supporter—anyone with an opinion about Ji Cheng would find Tian Gang leaping to his defense.

Protector Cheng—Yuan Feng’s nickname for him.

“All right, let’s go.”

Ji Cheng lowered his left hand from the tactical visor; he had just cracked another small network node. For now, this secondary chamber was safe.

Previously, his somewhat reckless assaults had made him regretful. Now, each time they entered a lab, he tried to hack the minor network nodes first, gaining control of surveillance and door permissions in advance.

To maintain morale, dangerous scouting tasks rotated among the group, but there was still a hierarchy.

If Ji Cheng could quickly crack permissions, he sent his closer associates; nodes harder to crack went to those less familiar. All this was done discreetly—no one else knew.

“Move, follow up!” he called.

“We’re heading out,” another replied.

Their footsteps echoed in tight formation across the vast, empty chamber.

“Ji Cheng, I’m curious—why do you always pause in every new room? Aren’t we pressed for time?” Zhang Lingfei asked, her hair wafting a fragrant breeze that even the bio-mask couldn’t block.

“I want to know too,” said Zhang Jing’e, who was usually quiet and shy, tilting her head with curiosity.

After this time together, though the sisters were still distant from the other ability users, at least with Ji Cheng and Luo Rao they were familiar, speaking with ease.

Especially Zhang Jing’e—Ji Cheng’s intricate planning, calm command, and deep knowledge continually reshaped her worldview. Her gaze toward his back grew ever gentler.

Not only that—even the mechanical sentinels left by the Empire, Ji Cheng could find their weaknesses in no time. It wasn’t just talent; he must, like her, be fascinated by machines and have devoted much effort… Zhang Jing’e’s ears flushed red at the thought.

“To observe the terrain as much as possible, analyze the situation, and wait for danger to surface on its own,” Ji Cheng replied seriously, improvising. “Sometimes, a brief wait avoids many casualties.”

“In any mining zone, impatience is forbidden. Be patient, and prepare thorough analyses.”

All the ability users were moved, a new understanding dawning within.

So that was why. No wonder they’d encountered fewer dangers than expected.

Snap.

As they formed up and prepared to advance, a soft sound echoed. The scant lights in their field of vision suddenly extinguished, and the intermittent hum of machinery fell silent.

The surroundings plunged into dead silence, broken only by the tense breathing of those present.

“What’s going on?”

“Is the power out?”