Wen Xin met Wen Jinfeng’s sharp gaze with an equally piercing one, his momentum no less imposing. “Fine, I’ll give it to you—after you tell me what it is.”
He was certain Wen Jinfeng bore no ill intent toward him, but his brother undoubtedly had other plans.
“It’s not important,” Wen Jinfeng deflected, clearly avoiding the question. “All you need to know is that it’s not something good.”
“Brother,” Wen Xin said suddenly, bringing up a memory. “Do you remember? Before the zombie virus outbreak spiraled out of control, you called me, told me to stock up on supplies, and warned me not to go out.”
“Back then, even City H hadn’t issued any response measures. How did you react so quickly?”
Wen Xin’s eyes locked onto Wen Jinfeng’s. “Tell me, does our family really have no connection to the zombie virus?”
“Wen Xin!” Wen Jinfeng’s expression darkened as he caught the underlying accusation, grabbing his younger brother by the collar. “What are you implying? Are you questioning our parents—”
“If they had nothing to do with it,” Wen Xin interrupted, “then explain the agreement Mom made with First Base back then. She had resigned, so why did she return to continue the experiments?”
Wen Xin’s tone grew firmer as he fixed his brother with an unyielding stare. “And the surgery I underwent as a child—what kind of operation was it? Why have you never spoken about it?”
Wen Jinfeng froze, as though caught off guard that Wen Xin had uncovered such secrets. His lips moved soundlessly, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words.
Unable to hold his brother’s piercing gaze, Wen Jinfeng’s demeanor faltered. “That surgery was—”
At that moment, the ground shook again!
Unlike the chaos caused by Yuan Yanzhong’s rampage in the city center, this tremor clearly originated beneath their feet—directly from the underground research facility.
Wen Jinfeng, still unsteady on his feet from his injuries, stumbled forward. Wen Xin instinctively caught him.
Faced with this sudden crisis, the brothers momentarily set aside their argument.
Wen Xin turned his attention to the corridor outside. “Something’s happening.”
The room’s soundproofing was excellent; none of their shouting had carried beyond its walls. But given the heavy security that surely guarded Wen Jinfeng’s cell, even routine patrols should have passed by several times by now. The absence of any guards was highly unusual.
The tremors continued, making the entire world seem as if it might collapse.
With Wen Xin’s help, Wen Jinfeng managed to regain his balance. He glanced out at the empty corridor, his pupils narrowing. Turning abruptly, he asked, “You said Yan Zhongjie was being held off by your mutants. Is there any chance he could’ve returned to this lab?”
Wen Xin noted the unease in his brother’s tone and replied firmly, “Impossible. Xiao Hei and the others wouldn’t let Yan Zhongjie escape. Even if he slipped away, they’d follow him here.”
But Wen Jinfeng didn’t seem reassured. Instead, his face grew more anxious. “This is bad.”
Wen Xin suspected Wen Jinfeng knew something he hadn’t disclosed, but before he could press further, Wen Jinfeng shoved the door open.
Wen Xin hurried after him.
Ahead lay a forked corridor. Further down, three surveillance cameras hung in strategic positions. Just as Wen Xin was about to caution him, Wen Jinfeng turned left without hesitation, avoiding the cameras’ blind spots with precision.
Only then did Wen Xin realize why they hadn’t encountered anyone earlier. It seemed the staff had received some kind of urgent command and were all rushing in one direction.
Frowning instinctively, Wen Xin noticed Wen Jinfeng picking up his pace.
After dodging several more cameras with practiced ease, Wen Xin commented, “You’re very familiar with this place.”
It wasn’t a question—it was a statement.
This labyrinth of winding paths and heavily monitored corridors wasn’t something one could navigate with only one or two visits.
Wen Jinfeng didn’t bother denying it anymore. He spoke bluntly, “Didn’t you say you wanted to kill An Qi? If you’re serious, stop wasting time and follow me.”
Under his breath, he muttered a curse so low that Wen Xin barely caught it. “Should’ve finished that old bastard off back then.”
Wen Xin didn’t catch the muttered remark but did notice their path aligned with the direction the guards were running.
They were heading toward An Qi—could something have happened on his side?
The tremors in the research facility gradually subsided, but the aftermath remained uncertain.
Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Wen Xin thought he could faintly hear wails and screams from various directions, as though coming from everywhere at once.
An ominous feeling took root in his chest.
Yuan Yanzhong, in his massive black Tyrannosaurus form, smashed through walls with his colossal body, reducing the Unified Tribunal to rubble in an instant.
The next moment, the city’s reconnaissance drones and ground tanks surrounded him in a dense, impenetrable web of firepower.
The S-class mutant was impervious to cannon fire—but Yan Zhongjie had modified all the launchers into powder-dispersing devices.
With each thunderous boom, clouds of ashen black powder filled the air.
While the powder posed little harm to humans, it was akin to a corrosive radioactive storm for mutants. Even the diamond-hard scales of the Tyrannosaurus were pitted and bloodied with corrosive marks.
Yan Zhongjie’s combat ability was unimpressive—in fact, it was inferior to the dust-dispersing cannons overhead.
What made him a nightmare was his grotesque regenerative ability. Even if decapitated, he would regenerate within seconds. Detached chunks of his flesh remained active, crawling onto enemies to bind their limbs and restrict movement.
It was a power both grotesque and repulsive.
Seeing this, the other mutants revealed their true forms without further hesitation, joining the Tyrannosaurus in battling the monstrous Yan Zhongjie.
Gigantic mutants emerged between skyscrapers, creating a breathtaking and terrifying scene.
Yuan Yanzhong turned to see that the gray-black powder causing him harm affected the other mutants even more severely.
The situation worsened as several fighter jets surrounded Lan Tuan, whose blue fur corroded away, exposing raw, bleeding flesh. With a swipe of its sharp claws, Lan Tuan summoned a surge of lightning, obliterating several jets in an instant!
But the powder remained. Not even the intense heat could fully degrade it; instead, the explosions scattered it further.
Thinking quickly, Yuan Yanzhong dragged Lan Tuan beneath his massive belly to shield it, sacrificing his own body as the gray-black powder enveloped him completely.
The searing pain agitated him, faint crackles of electricity buzzing in the air. If Yuan Yanzhong lost control and rampaged, the entire city would be doomed.
Seeing this, Ah Lü opened its massive jaws toward Yan Zhongjie, only to be stopped by Xiao Qi.
“Ah Lü, don’t rush! What if you poison yourself?!”
“Let go of me! I’ll swallow him whole!” The giant serpent roared, its tail firmly held by the fox. “If this goes on, we’ll both end up as puddles of blood!”
Xiao Qi refused to relent, fearing Ah Lü’s recklessness would spell its doom. Meanwhile, reconnaissance drones captured footage of their struggle, their missile warning lights blinking red.
Ah Jiu, the canary, urgently cried out, “Xiao Qi, Ah Lü, move now!”
At that critical moment, figures suddenly appeared on the desolate streets.
Li Yongming, carrying a heavy rocket launcher from who-knows-where, unleashed a missile that tore through the sky and obliterated a drone in a fiery explosion!
The sharp hissing of pressurized air made Ah Jiu’s heart leap into her throat. “No! The dust will scatter everywhere—”
Before he could finish, three jets suddenly broke formation from the fighter swarm. Engaging their engines, they generated powerful gusts, blowing the dispersed powder far away.
Who would have thought fighter planes could be equipped with blowers?
The First Base’s personnel were just as stunned. Several pilots, caught off guard, were blasted apart by rocket fire in the next instant.
Seemingly reading the collective surprise, one survivor beside Li Yongming sneered, his grin audacious. “What’s wrong with the First Base? Did they lose their minds? Replacing all the gunpowder in their cannons with suppressant dust—what were they thinking?”
Another survivor mocked, “Thinking? They clearly don’t care about us ‘mere mortals.’ Otherwise, why would they use all their weapons on mutants alone?”
“It’s infuriating, really.”
“But lucky for us, they didn’t take us seriously. That’s why we managed to sneak these planes into First Base. Talk about poetic justice!”
With that, the survivor pulled out a megaphone and addressed the towering mutants. “Hey, big guys! Want to team up? We’ll handle the fighter jets and tanks while you focus on the monster and the superhuman!”
“Don’t worry about the powder—it doesn’t affect us. Go all out!”
Hearing the survivors’ rallying call, Xiao Qi and the others exchanged uncertain glances.
For a long time, they had harbored deep prejudices against humans, seeing them as opportunistic and weak compared to the naturally powerful mutants.
Under Wen Xin’s influence, their views had softened. They even offered temporary shelter to humans during the apocalypse. Yet, the belief that humanity was a fragile species lingered.
Now, watching these survivors charge into the battlefield despite the danger, the mutants felt genuine surprise.
Ah Lü recalled a heated argument with Wen Xin before their mission.
The mutants had wanted to go all out against First Base. Having humans around meant diverting some of their focus to protect them, which would hinder their combat effectiveness.
Ah Lü had strongly opposed involving humans, arguing that most survivors were liabilities, except for a few exceptionally strong individuals.
But Wen Xin disagreed.
He had looked at Ah Lü and confidently assured, “Humans will be an asset in this fight.”
Why? Because throughout their long and arduous history, humans have faced countless existential crises yet have survived against all odds.
Their willpower was indomitable, their fighting spirit relentless.
Watching the survivors wield rocket launchers and fight with unyielding determination, Ah Lü began to understand why Wen Xin had such faith in humanity.
With the armed survivors managing the gray-black powder, the mutants no longer had to hold back and could finally unleash their full strength.
Under their overwhelming power, First Base’s fighter jets and tanks fell like dominoes. A seemingly dire situation transformed into a one-sided rout.
As Yan Zhongjie’s regenerative speed slowed, the survivors barely had time to celebrate before an intense tremor erupted from beneath City H.
“What’s going on? Is this an earthquake?!”
“This tremor isn’t normal. Something’s coming—a lot of them!”
The mention of large numbers sent alarm bells ringing in everyone’s mind.
Wen Xin, having been inside the secret research facility earlier, hadn’t experienced it as vividly. But the survivors around him clearly heard a cacophony of creaking and clanging, reminiscent of heavy machinery activating.
In the blink of an eye, countless dark shapes darted out from the ruins of surrounding buildings. They flooded the streets, covering nearly half the city within moments. From above, they resembled a swarm of ravenous army ants.
The sudden onslaught scattered the survivors’ forces. They retreated in panic, shouting through gritted teeth, “What are these creatures?!”
They were undoubtedly monsters.
Though vaguely humanoid or animal in shape, their limbs were grotesquely deformed. Some had three eyes, others five arms. Some had bloated stomachs so swollen that their translucent skin stretched taut like overfilled balloons.
Others bore writhing tentacles, their flesh and veins melted and liquefied like wax, eerily similar to Yan Zhongjie’s mutated form.
The monsters swarmed the streets, attacking anything that moved. Survivors fled desperately, firing their weapons, but the creatures seemed impervious to pain. Even with shattered limbs, they charged relentlessly, clawing at their prey.
“These are worse than zombies! At least zombies go down after a headshot. These things—shoot their heads, and they still get back up!”
Some sharp-eyed survivors noticed that many of the humanoid monsters wore remnants of combat uniforms. Despite their grotesque transformations, traces of their original human features remained visible.
One survivor couldn’t help but curse, “Those heartless bastards at First Base!”
A monster lunged at him before he could reload his weapon. Resigned, he shut his eyes, awaiting the end.
At the last moment, a massive serpent’s tail swept through, hurling the creature aside and saving his life.
Startled, the survivor opened his eyes to find himself staring into a pair of emerald-green, jewel-like serpent eyes.
Amid the battlefield of monstrous chaos, a giant serpent coiled, its form imposing against the backdrop of wreckage and relentless gunfire.
The survivor’s heart pounded with a mix of awe and terror, his breathing quick and shallow. The snake grumbled under its breath, “Fine, I’ll admit it—Wen Xin was right. Ordinary humans aren’t that weak.”
“…Sorry we’re so useless,” the survivor deadpanned, lacking any genuine emotion.
He assumed the chaos around them would drown out his sarcastic remark, but to his astonishment, the serpent dryly responded, “You’re not bad—better than I expected.”
“!!” The survivor was taken aback, almost flattered by the snake’s begrudging compliment.
After a prolonged battle, Yan Zhongjie finally succumbed, pinned to the ground by Yuan Yanzhong’s massive foot. His screams of humiliation and despair echoed across the battlefield.
Barely clinging to life, Yan Zhongjie cackled maniacally as he spotted the mindless swarm of monsters. “Hah! The old bastard’s finally awake. Well done—ha ha ha! Brilliant!”
Ah Zi, the purple squirrel, rushed over, stopping the black dragon before it could crush Yan Zhongjie completely. Its sharp voice cut through the chaos, demanding, “What is An Qi planning? Answer me!”
“Cough… What he’s planning?” Yan Zhongjie rasped, grinning through the blood. “Can’t you… feel it? These creatures… don’t they make it obvious? Ha ha—cough, cough…”
Ah Zi’s expression darkened.
The squirrel and the other mutants indeed sensed several familiar presences among the chaos.
Then, another tremor struck.
No one could have guessed that the monstrous swarm, which had already overwhelmed the survivors, was merely the vanguard.
BOOM!
Countless massive mutants burst through walls, emerging from underground gates. Their eyes glowed blood-red, their decaying limbs oozing foul-smelling toxic gas. The oppressive aura of S-class mutants radiated from them, paralyzing those nearby with dread.
Back then, not all mutants had escaped the catastrophic explosion.
Those who remained had been subjected to unimaginable horrors—and now, their wretched forms stood before their fellow mutants.
Yan Zhongjie’s laughter grew even more unhinged. “Have you… ever felt what it’s like to become a zombie? Why should humans suffer alone? Why should you monsters be spared, huh?!”
Hearing this, Ah Zi raised its head sharply, staring at the red, lifeless eyes of the grotesque mutants. “Everyone, be careful! Don’t let them grab or bite you!”
This, no doubt, was First Base’s final gambit.
Yuan Yanzhong turned toward the direction Wen Xin had left. As the zombie-mutant horde roared and charged, Yuan Yanzhong turned back, its resolve unwavering. It brought its foot down in a single decisive stomp.
Yan Zhongjie’s laughter stopped abruptly, silenced forever.
Meanwhile, after considerable effort, Wen Xin and Wen Jinfeng finally reached Dr. An Qi.
But the scene that awaited them was far from what Wen Xin had anticipated.
