Chapter 92
A towering twenty-meter wall separated Base 24 from the desolate land beyond, creating two starkly different worlds.
Inside the high walls, metallic floors spanned the entire area, dotted with buildings exuding an interstellar, high-tech aesthetic. Outside the walls, however, lay a barren wasteland, dry and devoid of any signs of life.
Su Ci stood atop the wall.
He gazed into the distance. A few hundred meters away from the wall, a dense blood mist emerged, spreading outward. The red haze deepened in color as it extended further, obscuring all scenery.
Although the blood mist had retreated from the human base, it was not far from humanity.
Su Ci observed the blood mist, and beside him, A-Yan watched as well.
As he stared into the blood-red fog, A-Yan no longer lost control of his emotions like before. This newfound clarity allowed him to see more of the images surfacing in his mind.
He had a startling realization:
It seemed… he had come from within the blood mist.
This conclusion left A-Yan momentarily stunned.
Wasn’t he supposed to be a cub from the Nursery? How could he have come from the mist?
Confusion flickered in the child’s gaze. Could it be that the expedition team had found him within the mist and brought him to the base?
A-Yan knew the base frequently sent personnel to explore the blood mist. As for the purpose, he wasn’t certain.
His curiosity about his origins grew, and now, he had an inkling: if he wanted to uncover his true identity, he might need to venture into the blood mist.
However…
A-Yan lowered his head and looked at his small hands.
He was still too weak. Entering the mist… wasn’t feasible right now.
“What are you thinking about?”
A young man’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
A-Yan tilted his head upward, meeting Su Su’s gaze. The young man stood under the sunlight, smiling gently at him. A-Yan hesitated for a moment and shook his head.
In truth, he had also begun to recall fragments about Su Su.
He was now sure of one thing: he had known Su Su long, long ago.
Exactly how long ago, he wasn’t certain and would need to find the answer himself. But no matter what, A-Yan was sure of one thing: to him, Su Su was—
A very special, very important presence.
Su Ci looked into the child’s black-red eyes.
At this moment, A-Yan’s gaze had shed its previous confusion, revealing a maturity far beyond his years. Yet, the purity and focus in his eyes remained unchanged.
Su Ci couldn’t help but feel a stir in his heart.
What sort of bond did he and A-Yan share? And why had he forgotten this part of his memory?
This question lingered in his mind briefly. Then Su Ci reached out, ruffling the child’s hair. He said, “Come on, it seems something interesting is happening again.”
Inside the metallic wall’s tunnel.
A truck from Base 26 roared past, leaving behind a monstrous creature sprawled in the middle of the road. Its black-red body twitched as its six segmented legs shuddered sporadically. Thick white foam oozed from its massive mandible-filled mouth.
Moments later, Su Ci and A-Yan appeared before the creature.
Su Ci had initially not planned to come inside, but he hadn’t expected to find such a creature hidden within the tunnel of the metallic wall.
Luckily, he didn’t have to act. The perfume developed by the plantation had done its job.
It seemed the transporter named “Little Fan” had some decent luck.
Su Ci examined the creature on the ground.
It was likely a giant insect species, covered in hard armor, with wings on its back. Its elongated forelimbs were equipped with sharp serrations, and its enormous mandibles looked capable of shredding through even the toughest metal.
From its size, the beetle was much smaller than a giant spider, measuring just over one meter but less than two. That said, the aura emanating from it was far more menacing than that of a giant spider.
If confronted head-on, even with the strength of the Operations Team, it would likely require an intense battle to subdue it.
As for the transporter in the cockpit…
If they were to face it alone, survival would be nearly impossible.
Su Ci scrutinized the massive beetle, his brows furrowing. How could such a creature appear in the tunnel? Had the monitors failed to detect it?
He summoned the base’s AI intelligence, and the answer arrived swiftly.
“Under extreme weather conditions and the erosion caused by crimson frost blooms, 60% of outdoor monitors have sustained varying degrees of damage. The monitors closer to the base’s perimeter are the most severely affected.
“Additionally, based on the data you have uploaded, the creature appearing in the metallic wall tunnel has been preliminarily identified as a Giant Black Beetle.
“The Giant Black Beetle is covered with a hard exoskeleton that requires an S-class laser rifle or higher to penetrate. Furthermore, it emits a magnetic field that induces drowsiness and fatigue illusions in living organisms while interfering with signal transmissions.”
In other words, even if the monitors captured footage, the signals could not be reliably transmitted to the AI for an alert. Combined with the fact that many monitors were damaged and yet to be fully repaired, the base’s AI had failed to detect the anomaly.
“From this information, it can be inferred that the Giant Black Beetle likely infiltrated the metallic wall during the Crimson Frost Night and has been lying dormant until now.”
Su Ci nodded.
The analysis was reasonable. However… if this was the case, it suggested that the humans living within the base were in even greater danger.
After all, the metallic wall tunnel was technically part of the base’s infrastructure. The fact that this massive beetle had successfully infiltrated it implied that the power of the regulatory rules was weakening again.
However, Su Ci recalled that during the Crimson Frost Night, even the giant spider couldn’t enter the Nursery, and the crimson mist faces had to resort to trickery to lure the children outside…
This meant that while the outer areas were becoming increasingly dangerous, the interior of the base still retained a degree of safety.
At this moment, the base AI’s voice sounded again:
“Junior Caretaker Su Ci, would you like to report this discovery to the Operations Team?”
Strictly speaking, such incidents ought to serve as a warning to the base’s residents. If another monster were to infiltrate the metallic wall tunnel and a convoy passed through like today, the tunnel would effectively become a death trap.
But the problem was…
Su Ci didn’t immediately answer the AI’s question. Instead, he turned to A-Yan and asked, “What do you think? Is this black beetle edible?”
A-Yan examined the enormous beetle. Although it was smaller than the giant spider, it was still large enough for him to have to tilt his head to see it fully.
“We can give it a try,” he said through his communicator.
Since A-Yan said it could be eaten, then it must be edible! Su Ci’s resolve not to hand over the beetle grew stronger.
The principle of “finder’s keepers” applied perfectly here.
“I must remind you,” the base AI chimed in again. “The exoskeleton of the Giant Black Beetle requires an S-class laser rifle or higher to—”
Before the AI could finish its sentence, Su Ci grabbed one of the beetle’s antennae and gave it a gentle tug. The beetle, which had merely been in a dazed state, suddenly—
With a crisp snap, its entire head detached from its body, spilling pale green bodily fluid all over the ground.
Su Ci stepped back two paces and asked the AI, “What were you saying, Little Zhi?”
“……”
The base AI fell silent momentarily before simply repeating its earlier question: “Shall I report this discovery to the Operations Team?”
“Report it.”
As the beetle’s body fluid pooled on the floor, Su Ci casually cast a light shield, encapsulating the beetle’s body and severed head. He neatly stored them into a spatial button.
“Just say traces of a suspected creature were discovered,” Su Ci instructed, pointing to the puddle of pale green liquid on the ground. “Let the Operations Team figure out the rest.”
Whatever they investigated, it wouldn’t lead back to him.
“Make sure the surveillance footage is handled properly,” Su Ci added as a final reminder. “Don’t let me get exposed.”
“Understood…” The base AI responded after a brief pause.
Su Ci then continued, “Next time there’s a monster infiltration, find an excuse to make sure those Operations Team members carry that garlic-scented perfume developed by the plantation.”
Garlic was a surprisingly versatile ingredient—not only was it an excellent seasoning, but it also served as a disinfectant and insect repellent. The garlic-scented perfume, made from the small spiritual garlic bulbs, had proven highly effective against the beetle.
It was better to have it than not.
As for Su Ci’s unconventional habit of giving the AI vague yet proactive orders, the base AI seemed to have gradually adapted to it. It simply replied, “Understood.”
Satisfied, Su Ci nodded and glanced back at the convoy, now long gone from the tunnel’s end. He asked, “Where’s the truck from Base 26 now?”
The base AI promptly answered, “One minute ago, it exited the metallic wall and entered the tunnel leading to the airfield.”
The path from Base 24’s outer metallic wall wasn’t an open highway but another straight tunnel directly connecting to the airfield.
The tunnel’s construction materials were designed with exceptional protective capabilities, ensuring that the entire route from the base to the airfield was shielded by structural defenses.
Of course, this protection was now effectively useless.
Fan Hao was unaware of this fact, nor did he realize how narrowly he had escaped a disaster. Instead, he focused on the strong garlic scent, finding himself feeling more and more invigorated.
Within a few minutes, his fatigue had completely dissipated, leaving him feeling refreshed and full of energy once again.
“Who would’ve thought this stuff actually works…”
As Fan Hao muttered to himself, the hover truck exited the tunnel and entered Base 24’s airfield.
The airfield was essentially a smaller version of a supply station, capable of accommodating only five large ships at most.
Currently, only two ships were docked at the airfield.
One was old and battered, its age evident from its exterior. The 244H serial number painted on its hull was partially chipped away.
The other ship, from Base 26, stood in stark contrast. Its sleek, brand-new design immediately caught the eye, a blend of cutting-edge technology and raw power.
This transport ship was not only twice the size of the 244H but also equipped with weaponry. While it couldn’t compare to a dedicated combat vessel, it had sufficient firepower for self-defense in emergencies. In all other respects, its design utterly overshadowed that of the 244H.
By comparison, the idle ship at Base 24’s airfield looked distinctly shabby.
As Fan Hao’s convoy arrived, two individuals in combat uniforms descended from the newer ship alongside the cargo-moving robots.
The pair approached Fan Hao, about to ask him something, but stopped abruptly, pinching their noses. One of them wrinkled his brows, his expression full of disdain.
“Did someone at Base 24 treat you to a garlic feast?” the man asked dramatically. “Good grief, how many pounds of garlic did you eat?!”
The other person couldn’t hold it in and ran to the side, gagging. For someone who despised garlic, the garlic-scented perfume was indeed a nightmarish experience.
As for Fan Hao, having apparently spent too much time in pungent environments, he seemed to have acclimated. After a while, he even found the smell tolerable.
“It’s not so bad,” he said, sniffing himself. “It seems Base 24 has cultivated a mutated garlic that’s supposed to boost alertness. They gave me a bottle of garlic-scented perfume as a parting gift.”
“Garlic… perfume?”
The gagging individual looked utterly incredulous but, remembering they were on Base 24’s turf with the AI monitoring everything, he could only give a thumbs-up and say, “Impressive!”
“So, is Base 24 planning to mass-produce this… garlic perfume?”
“Well, uh…”
Seeing their awkward expressions, Fan Hao shrugged. “Personally, I think it’s refreshing. It works well. For drivers, it’s a pretty useful thing.”
While automated driving was convenient, it only worked well when road conditions were optimal. On the prison planet, “optimal conditions” were mostly limited to the bases, so manual driving was still widely needed.
Operating either hover vehicles or spacecraft requires significant concentration, and at critical moments, this garlic-scented perfume could prove quite useful.
The two soldiers shook their heads vigorously. Garlic perfume? They’d rather die than use it!
As for the news that Base 24 had cultivated a mutated garlic plant, they mentally noted it down. While they would report it back to their superiors, they didn’t consider it particularly significant.
After all, didn’t every base’s plantation have one or two mutated plants? Even if Base 24 was impoverished enough to still rely on decade-old relics.
A glance at the nearly-scrapped 244H ship nearby filled the two soldiers with a sense of relief.
Luckily, they hadn’t been assigned to Base 24.
While they weren’t afraid of combat, they did hope their equipment would be at least somewhat decent. Especially now, with monsters starting to infiltrate base structures, the prison planet was becoming increasingly unsafe.
As they chatted, all the truck compartments had automatically opened, and a series of transport robots began unloading the cargo.
In the last truck, a small monkey sat perched atop a cargo box, curiously observing the transport robots.
Even as the robot lifted the box, the monkey remained still, quietly sitting atop it as it was carried off the truck.
When it finally saw the unfamiliar surroundings outside, its eyes widened. It leaped off the box, hopping and exploring its new environment, filled with pure curiosity about everything.
No one could see it, not even the robots, whose scanners failed to detect its presence.
Soon, the transport robots grouped all the cargo together, stacking it near the ship. A beam of light descended from the ship.
Every item illuminated by the beam disappeared from its original location.
The monkey’s round eyes sparkled with excitement.
It nimbly leaped onto one of the cargo boxes, waiting for the light beam to sweep over. It didn’t flinch or try to avoid it.
However, only the box beneath its feet disappeared.
With its support suddenly gone, the monkey tumbled to the ground. By the time it scrambled back to its feet, all the cargo had been transferred to the ship, along with the three personnel from Base 26, who had also been transported aboard by the beam.
The monkey chattered loudly in frustration, then dashed toward the ship, seemingly intending to jump onto its exterior.
However, just as it reached the ship, it began to lift off, the generated airflow sending the small creature tumbling away.
The monkey squealed as it flailed in the gusts. It managed to grab onto something, stabilizing itself before it could be blown further.
At that moment, it instinctively looked upward—and froze.
Accompanying the takeoff of the Base 26 ship, the tightly sealed hemispherical dome above slowly began to open from the center. By the time it fully retracted, the entire airfield was exposed to the open sky.
For the first time, the wasteland beyond the base came into the monkey’s view.
At this moment, perched atop the old, battered ship of Base 24, the monkey gazed out at the vast scenery. A profound sense of awe and confusion filled its little heart.
So this… was what the outside of the base looked like.
The little monkey stared blankly at the desolate wilderness outside, its gaze lingering on the swirls of blood mist shrouding the horizon. What it was thinking remained a mystery.
Even after the Base 26 ship vanished into the sky, the open metal dome re-sealed itself, and the rushing airflow stilled, the little monkey had yet to snap out of its daze.
It wasn’t clear how much time had passed when a pair of black leather shoes appeared before it.
The little monkey tilted its head upward, spotting a caretaker in a gray-blue uniform standing in front of it.
The young man bent slightly, extending his hand toward the monkey.
The little creature obediently released its grip—moments ago, it had clung tightly to a protruding metal piece on the ship’s top to avoid being blown away.
It leaped onto the man’s palm, climbing up his arm and settling quietly on his left shoulder.
A-Yan let out a soft sigh of relief as he looked at the unharmed monkey.
This little one had wandered off so far—if they had arrived just a bit later, would it have ended up running straight into the blood mist?
The thought gave A-Yan a moment of dread.
Su Ci, however, didn’t scold the monkey. He reached out with his fingertips, gently stroking its small head as he chuckled. “Did you have fun?”
The little monkey nodded, then shook its head.
Its gaze turned toward the distant hemispherical dome, as if it could see through the metallic walls to the world beyond once again.
A barren, lifeless, and cold world devoid of vitality.
There was a hint of complexity in the little monkey’s eyes—confusion, sadness, but most of all, bewilderment. It seemed that in its imagination, the outside world should not have been like this.
Su Ci patted the monkey’s head again. Its golden fur, as soft as a newborn flower’s petals, seemed to carry a faint warmth it hadn’t had before.
Its spiritual form was becoming increasingly solid.
If it hadn’t been, as a spirit, it wouldn’t have been trapped in the truck compartment; it could have simply passed through the walls.
It was unclear whether Number Six’s condition was entirely normal, but its unstable soul was indeed a problem. Once they returned, this issue would need to be addressed.
Su Ci withdrew his hand but didn’t hurry to leave.
He glanced down at the old, battered ship beneath his feet, then moved with A-Yan into the interior.
The ship seemed to have been abandoned for a long time. A thick layer of dust coated everything inside, and each step stirred up choking clouds of dirt.
“Little Zhi, is this ship decommissioned?” Su Ci asked the base AI.
“The 244H is still in service but is no longer suitable for external missions. In extreme weather, there is a significant risk of crashing. Currently, it remains in an idle state.”
While the ship could handle ordinary flights, the prison planet’s erratic weather required higher performance. This left virtually no scenarios where the 244H was usable. Yet scrapping it outright would have been too wasteful, so it remained parked in the airfield.
The airfield was mostly reserved for receiving foreign visitors and rarely saw use otherwise. Day-to-day maintenance was handled by robots, so the area wasn’t exactly in high demand.
Su Ci nodded. “So basically, no one’s going to use it, right?”
“You could interpret it that way,” the base AI replied.
“Alright, then I’m requisitioning this ship.”
With a snap of his fingers, the ship’s interior was instantly restored to a pristine, spotless state.
Seeing this, A-Yan froze in surprise.
This spell… he wanted to learn it!
Noticing the look in his eyes, Su Ci reached out to pat his fluffy ears and said, “I’ll teach you when we get back.”
“Okay!” A-Yan nodded eagerly, his face lighting up with joy.
Su Ci wandered through the ship, finding it to be impressively spacious—unsurprising for a transport ship, as its storage capacity had to be large.
The empty cabins pleased Su Ci.
Based on his observations today, the few dozen Star-Chain Fruits in the Nursery, nourished by spiritual energy, would be ready for harvest in ten days to two weeks.
With so many fruits, his spatial button wouldn’t be able to store them all, and the Nursery’s cold storage wouldn’t suffice either.
This ship would solve that problem for now.
The excess fruit could be temporarily stored here. Its proximity to the wasteland also made it a potential base for his future excursions—after all, his goal was to explore the entire planet, not stay confined to the Nursery forever.
Everything needed to be prepared step by step.
With the highest level of access to the base, requisitioning a nearly decommissioned ship was no problem at all. Even if other bases’ ships landed in the future, it was unlikely anyone would bother poking around this particular vessel.
If necessary, he could always carve a camouflage array outside the ship for added security.
Su Ci examined the battered vessel before him, finding himself growing fonder of it the longer he looked. He already had materials like the giant spider’s silk and carapace, and now he also had the black beetle’s shell—all excellent for crafting tools.
As for the core of his crafting project…
Why not start with this ship? Su Ci ran his hand over the metal hull, a glimmer of interest in his eyes. While he wasn’t specialized in artifact crafting, he genuinely enjoyed the process.
To him, such high-tech items could also be considered a branch of artifact crafting.
That said, he didn’t plan to dive in immediately. How exactly to proceed would require further design and planning.
The little monkey perched on the young man’s shoulder. While the ship’s interior piqued its curiosity initially, its gaze eventually drifted toward the window, looking through the glass at the hemispherical metal dome that obstructed its view.
At that moment, it heard the young man’s gentle voice: “Do you want to go out and take a look?”
The monkey blinked, hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
It wanted to go outside, to see the world beyond.
Thanks for the update