Chapter 92
Outside the contamination zone of the Aurora Armory.
The old factory district, though no longer as pristine as the newer facilities, had once been the region’s first military factory. It was designed by a top-tier architectural team and boasted an impressive scale.
Now, its former glory had faded. Yellow caution tape crisscrossed the area, sealing off the old factory. The once-bright streets were shrouded in a faint red mist, which obscured visibility and cast an ominous pall.
People gathered around the area but kept their distance from the caution tape, visibly wary of the red mist.
Workers in dust-proof suits moved about, holding data tablets as they analyzed the site. Behind them stood a handful of officials, their attire markedly different from the fieldworkers, giving off the air of high-ranking bureaucrats.
Hands clasped behind their backs, the officials listened as a site manager briefed them on the situation inside the contamination zone.
“The virus concentration in the air is alarmingly high, and the red mist appears to be spreading.”
“The magnetic field within the contamination zone is unstable. Of the 12 drones we sent in, 8 have already gone offline.”
…
The manager continued his report, addressing the grim-faced director. “Director, the detectors inside the factory are all being disrupted by the magnetic field. The surveillance displays can’t show any clear visuals.”
The director frowned deeper and asked, “When were the last occurrences of red mist spreading?”
The manager flipped through his data records. “The earliest was 25 days ago. Since then, there have been three instances. The intervals are getting shorter. At this rate, it won’t be long before the red mist spreads beyond the old factory district.”
The director rubbed his temples, his brows knitted into a knot of frustration.
Initially, the area wasn’t called a contamination zone—it was merely a region with a high concentration of mutants. But after the capture and transport of that mutated zombie, everything had spiraled out of control.
It seemed one of the mutants had been affected, producing the strange red toxic mist. Exposure to it carried a high risk of mutation and death.
The director suspected the zombie’s virus had undergone a secondary mutation. Every day since then, he had bitterly regretted not incinerating the corpse on the spot.
But regrets were useless now. All that could be done was to contain the damage.
The manager, noticing the director’s grim expression, hesitantly asked, “The twenty-three rodent workers sent in previously all lost contact yesterday. Should we… send in more? Or—”
The unspoken alternative was to retreat.
However, the unfinished suggestion seemed to strike a nerve. The director’s face darkened instantly. “The Aurora Armory has stood for thirteen years as the pride of this steel city-state! It weathered over a dozen zombie tides after the apocalypse began. Even when our leadership faced crisis after crisis, this place didn’t collapse. When the Desire Market offered an exorbitant price to buy us out, I refused to budge! And now you want me to abandon it?”
“Send more people in. Find the source of the anomaly and blow it to hell with cannons if you have to!”
The director’s lips curled into a snarl as he spat each word. “Even if it takes bodies to fill that pit, you’ll fill it.”
The manager, cowed by the director’s ferocious expression, closed his mouth and said nothing more.
Elsewhere, the gate guard hurriedly intercepted Wen Xin.
“Sir! Please, wait a moment! You’re heading in the wrong direction. The interview hall for research staff and mutant trainers is this way!”
Mutant trainers.
Wen Xin caught another intriguing term. During his travels and time in Mermaid Bay, he seemed to have missed quite a bit of news from the outside world.
He asked, “Isn’t that direction for rodent workers?”
“Rodent workers?” The guard’s eyes widened in shock. “You want to apply as a rodent worker?!”
The interview hall was nearby, bustling with activity. Several individuals had already passed the rigorous screening and signed their contracts, securing positions as mutant trainers for the armory.
Mutant trainer was a new profession that had emerged recently. Until methods for controlling mutants were discovered, no one had believed humans could tame such vicious creatures.
The news hadn’t spread widely yet, but some factions had already caught wind and begun research in this area.
The newly hired trainers walked out of the hall with their subdued mutants in tow, basking in the staff’s reverent and admiring gazes. Confidence radiated from their every step.
However, out of sight of others, the trainers exchanged strange smirks.
“That interview was a joke. These factory guys are total amateurs. Way easier to fool than the research institute or the contamination prevention center.”
One trainer, grinning smugly, clapped his companion on the shoulder. “Good thing you swiped that formula from the lab. With these drugs controlling the mutants, we’ll be living the high life here for years.”
“Shh! Lower your voice. What if someone overhears?”
As they exited the hall, their attention was drawn to Wen Xin’s conversation with the guard. They paused mid-step.
“Rodent workers? Why is someone applying for that here?”
“Hey, look at his feet. Those three cats—are they mutants?”
“Get real. If they were mutants, wouldn’t they have shock collars or chains on? No way they’d just stand there behaving.”
“Wait, those really might be mutants,” someone murmured, glancing at the mutated rat perched on his shoulder.
The rat, about the size of a hand, wore a spiked shock collar around its neck. Its dull, lifeless eyes lacked the vibrancy typical of rodents. From the moment the trainers had seen Wen Xin’s three companions, the rat had been cowering, its head lowered as if afraid to meet their gaze.
The trainers noticed the restlessness of their own mutants and stared in shock at the three bundles at Wen Xin’s feet. “If those creatures are making our mutants this scared, they must be at least B-grade.”
The trainers exchanged uneasy looks.
Their doubts about Wen Xin’s identity dissipated.
To them, controlling mutants required access to advanced drugs or research facilities—resources only obtainable through significant backing. Whether it was the formula or the drug itself, such items were still top-secret and unavailable to the public. Only those involved in the development process could possess them.
For the trainers, there was only one explanation: Wen Xin had stolen resources, just like they had.
One trainer lowered his voice. “Our formula only works on C-grade mutants. He must have better stuff.”
Should we make a move?
After a brief deliberation, they approached Wen Xin, their expressions warm and welcoming.
“You’re here for the mutant trainer position too? What a coincidence! We just finished our interviews.”
“Did I hear right—you wanted to apply as a rodent worker? What’s the matter? Got a death wish? Everyone knows rodent workers never come back alive.”
Wen Xin lifted his gaze quietly and looked at the trainers.
That glance made one of them falter.
For some reason, he felt as though their earlier conversation had been overheard by this man.
But how could that be? They had taken precautions, speaking in low voices, with sensitive details communicated through gestures. It was impossible for this young man to know what they had been discussing.
It had to be his imagination, the trainer reassured himself.
The group of trainers, harboring their suspicions, continued alongside the gate guard to dissuade Wen Xin. For over ten minutes, they tried to change his mind.
Unbeknownst to them, Wen Xin was quietly using their chatter to fill in gaps in his understanding of the situation. When their voices finally dried up, and they paused for breath, he nodded calmly.
“Thank you, but I’ve decided to apply as a rodent worker.”
The trainers were stunned for a moment before they nearly collapsed in disbelief.
“Forget it. He’s got a screw loose. Not our problem if he wants to throw his life away!”
“Yeah, let’s just go!”
If Wen Xin was determined to die, so be it. They figured his death inside the military factory could work to their advantage. Perhaps one day, they might find a safe way to enter the contamination zone and scavenge his remains.
But to their shock, their plans didn’t unfold as expected.
From the direction of the rodent worker line, a team of heavily armed staff emerged. Spotting the trainers’ mutants at their feet, the staff surrounded them without warning.
“Emergency deployment for the contamination zone task. Come with us.”
“What? Wait—what are you doing—”
The trainers, caught off guard, were promptly restrained and taken away despite their protests.
Wen Xin observed the rough treatment and furrowed his brow.
He had intended to enter the contamination zone anyway, so this turn of events felt convenient. Hugging the three small bundles close, he followed the staff without resistance, unlike the trainers who were dragged away kicking and shouting.
Seeing his compliance, the staff spared him the forceful measures they had used on the others.
At the edge of the contamination zone, Wen Xin saw the red mist-shrouded factory district again, as well as the same officials and staff he had noticed earlier.
Lan Tuan, nestled in his arms, stirred. Its soft voice carried a note of unease: “That mist gives me a very bad feeling.”
San San stretched its neck to sniff the air, its tiny face scrunching up.
The mist smelled sweet, almost floral, but overly intense—a scent that was simultaneously pleasant and repulsive. It reminded San San of the three-eyed deer that Ah Lü had once brought back from Rose City. The meat had been delicious at first but caused severe nausea and vomiting shortly afterward.
Why did this strange mist resemble the oddities from Rose City?
The rodent workers were gathered in a clearing. Staff distributed protective suits and emergency rations.
The workers, fully aware that entering the contamination zone was almost certainly a death sentence, tore into the rations immediately, wolfing them down.
The air was filled with the sound of frantic chewing, interspersed with dry sobs and the choking cries of people who could no longer shed tears. Many had reddened eyes as they crammed food into their mouths, one hand trembling as it clutched their rations.
The manager turned to the director and asked, “Should we push them to hurry up and move?”
The director glanced at the workers, his face devoid of empathy. “Let them eat. They’ll need their strength to make it farther inside. After they finish, bring out a few more packs of rations.”
At that moment, the trainers who had been forcibly brought along began to resist.
“We came here to apply as trainers, not as rodent workers! Why are you dragging us here?!”
Just moments ago, they had basked in the adoration of interviewers and staff, believing that a life of respect and privilege awaited them. Now, the stark contrast in treatment was impossible for them to accept.
It wasn’t until several guards aimed their guns at their heads that they fell silent, their faces pale as they finally regained a shred of composure.
One of them spoke shakily: “We just want to know what’s going on. Why are you treating us like this? Don’t we deserve an explanation?”
The manager approached with a polite smile. “I’m sorry that you’ve been thrust into such a situation right after being hired. The circumstances are urgent, and there was no other choice.”
He gestured toward the mist-shrouded factory district. “We suspect a powerful mutant is entrenched inside, its level unknown. It’s the source of the contamination spreading through the old factory.”
“But all our reconnaissance equipment has been corroded by the red mist. The electronics have been offline for a long time. Now, we can only rely on the sensory abilities of your mutants to pinpoint its location.”
One trainer went ashen. “So, you’re saying… we have to go inside?”
The manager’s smile remained fixed, pleasant yet insincere. “If you can control your mutants from outside the perimeter and send them in, then perhaps you won’t have to enter yourselves.”
The trainers exchanged uneasy looks, their faces alternating between pale and flushed.
Wen Xin took the protective suit handed to him by a staff member and put it on. As he adjusted the gear, he listened quietly to the exchange between the manager and the trainers.
The information was fragmented, making it difficult to piece together.
However, it was clear that the trainers had a method to control their mutants, albeit with a limited range. This limitation meant they would likely have to enter the contamination zone themselves.
The military factory needed the trainers to help locate the so-called source of the contamination.
Wen Xin decided to observe further. He looked toward the red mist, his thoughts lingering on whether Ah Zi was truly inside.
The military factory didn’t give the rodent workers much time to finish their rations. Ten minutes later, they were ordered to stand.
The supervisors brought out an old-fashioned camera.
In a world where electronic devices failed under the mist’s influence, these obsolete tools had become reliable means of documenting information.
“The primary task is to capture as much footage of the factory district as possible. Bring the film back intact,” the manager explained.
“In addition, you’re allowed to scavenge equipment or instruments from the old factory. If they’re not too damaged, we’ll appraise their value and convert them into supplies or money.”
Hearing this, a faint glimmer of hope flickered in the deadened eyes of the rodent workers.
On the trainers’ side, whatever threats the management used had worked. The trainers had shifted from outright resistance to reluctant acceptance, silently putting on their protective suits.
The manager turned to Wen Xin and the trainers. “Your task is different. Focus on locating the mutant causing the contamination. Once you find it, fire a signal flare into the sky. If we can eliminate the red mist, everything else will fall into place.”
Wen Xin raised a question. “I’ve heard the contamination zone has more than one mutant. How do we know which one we’re looking for?”
The manager hesitated, clearly unsure. If they knew which mutant was the source, they would have dealt with it by now. He resorted to vagueness. “Head toward the center of the mist. You’ll find it there.”
Wen Xin wasn’t satisfied with the non-answer. “The factory has been recruiting rodent workers for a while. Surely you’ve gathered intel on the types of mutants in the contamination zone?”
The director, who had been reviewing a data analysis board, shifted his gaze to Wen Xin.
Unfazed, Wen Xin continued. “If we don’t know what’s in there, we risk running into something even more dangerous and dying before we reach our objective.”
The director stepped forward. “Don’t worry. You won’t be going in alone. These security personnel will ensure your safety. Some of them have prior experience inside the contamination zone.”
Wen Xin, unimpressed, replied curtly: “Not enough.”
His voice was calm but carried a sharp edge. “The security team knows, as well as we do, that they’re not enough. We’re the ones tasked with finding the mutant. If the guards die, are we supposed to sit and wait for our own deaths?”
The manager, caught off guard by the direct request, hesitated and glanced at the director for guidance.
The director stared at Wen Xin. From his perspective, the workers and trainers were disposable tools meant to locate the source of the red mist. He had never expected them to accomplish anything beyond that.
However, the longer they survived, the higher the chances of success.
“Give it to them,” the director finally ordered.
Wen Xin received the documents he had requested—a stack of handwritten notes, not too thick but not insubstantial.
Under the scrutiny of onlookers, he made a show of carefully flipping through the pages, scrutinizing each entry with equal attention.
The notes listed various mutants, ranging from the mundane to the moderately dangerous:
- C-grade mutant poplar trees
- C-grade mutant sparrows
- B-grade mutant wolfhounds
Then, Wen Xin turned the page and froze momentarily.
[A-grade mutant purple squirrel. Origin unknown. Abilities unknown. Alignment: Friendly. Capable of interaction and communication.]
However, this description had been furiously scribbled over, the ink erratic as if the writer’s hand had been trembling.
Beneath it, a chilling addendum had been hastily scrawled:
[DANGER! EXTREMELY DANGEROUS! UNTAMEABLE. DO NOT ANGER. FLEE ON SIGHT!!]
