Chapter 306: Silence

Chapter 306: Silence

Night of December 16th, heavy fog.

The lower district was shrouded in dense, milk-white fog; searchlights could barely penetrate a meter through the fog. Paired with the pitch-black night, you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.

The streets were nearly empty, bars and pool halls closed for the night. Those eking out a living on the streets, returning home late, huddled in their leather coats, warily observing their surroundings. Occasionally, they'd brush past someone, then quickly vanish into the thick mist, like lurking phantom shadows.

This was the perfect night for underhanded business.

Ye Wang sat at the bar counter, a compact comm earpiece in his ear. Before him, a projected map of the lower district sprawled out. The labyrinthine alleys resembled an ant colony—many of these paths weren’t even officially recorded, having been mapped through boots-on-the-ground recon by Bu Nian and his team.

A mechanical whir sounded in his earpiece, followed by a crisp report: "Major General, Colonel, we’ve bypassed the gate with the iris scan. Hydraulic jack stands ready."

"Warehouse management program unlocked."

"Target sample in sight."

"Good." Ye Wang’s steady voice echoed through the bar. "Let me reiterate the plan. The sample is secured with a magnetic security circuit. Lifting it will trigger an alarm; both the warehouse and main gate will automatically lock. According to our estimate, the hydraulic jack will buy you one minute for evacuation. That means once you retrieve enough samples, you *must* reach the exit within sixty seconds."

His gaze swept over the tangled streets on the map, several routes marked in red. "After evacuation, you’ll encounter the first wave of guards—about twenty. They won’t have heavy weaponry, so I trust you can handle them within five minutes."

Ye Wang took a deep breath. "Because in as little as five, or at most ten minutes, troops will quickly converge from the three and five o’clock directions. Estimated numbers: no fewer than two hundred, heavily armed with live ammunition, equipped with signal flares and infrared scopes. So within five minutes, you must scatter into the alleys as planned. You know these streets better than I do—no need for further details."

A chorus of low "Understood"s filled the comms.

Ye Wang continued, "Within the next two hours, large search teams will flood the area. They’ll likely conduct a carpet-style sweep, but if you return to your designated spots and keep your cool, you won’t have too much trouble getting through."

The lower district teemed with undocumented squatters living in unmarked, illegal buildings. The upper district scorned this place—yet that very disdain became their advantage.

Bu Nian had operated here for years. Once they melted into these alleys, they’d scatter like needles in a haystack, untraceable.

Ye Wang picked up a stopwatch.

"Now, on my mark. All teams, three-second countdown. Retrieve the samples and prepare to move."

"3, 2, 1—"

The instant Ye Wang gave the order, a shrill alarm shattered the night. Not only was it crystal clear through the earpieces, but it could even be faintly heard in Bu Nian’s bar, rupturing the district’s rare, long-lost tranquility. Countless sickly yellow lights flickered on one after another, forming hazy patches of light in the fog, mingling with enraged swearing—a chaotic backdrop to the lower district’s patchy underbelly.

"Who the hell’s ringing alarms when folks are tryin’ to sleep?! Heartless bastards!"

"What kind of psycho does this at night?!"

Ye Wang held his earpiece tight, completely blocking out the noise, his eyes locked on the ticking timer.

Every second was the ticking clock of impending death.

When the one-minute countdown hit *1*, Bu Nian’s voice crackled through: "Report—all personnel clear of the gate."

Ye Wang: "Good. Five-minute countdown starts now. Good lu—"

Before he could finish, a deafening explosion roared through the comms, followed by the successive *whoosh* of signal flares launching into the sky.

These weapons became light sources in the dark—each flare burned as bright as a million candles. Two could illuminate an entire battlefield. Now, dozens streaked upward simultaneously, thinning the fog with their brilliance.

Ye Wang stood at the bar’s center, gazing through the glass toward the testing district. The flares streaked long, snaking trails across the night, twisting and dancing like writhing serpents of light.

The flare trails mirrored in the commander's eyes, giving his deep-set eyes an unaccountable gravity.

Ye Wang thought, "This isn't right."

Flares weren't standard issue in the experimental zone—they came too fast.

If the main force had arrived this quickly, they might have directly confronted Bu Nian's team in the open area outside the experimental zone's gates—a worst-case scenario.

Yet, only flares had been launched, with no sound of heavy artillery.

This made no sense.

The commander keyed his earpiece, fingertips brushing against a layer of cold sweat. "Colonel, what's your status?"

The earpiece crackled with static and distant gunfire, though the shots seemed distant, not aimed at Bu Nian's team.

After three tense minutes, a teammate's voice finally came through.

"Something's wrong, Major General!" Bu Nian panted heavily. "Package secured. We're falling back through the alleys as planned—everything's normal so far."

Ye Wang's brow furrowed. "Everything's normal?"

The main force arriving ten minutes early, dozens of flares lighting up the sky—this counts as normal?

That normalcy was the real problem.

Ye Wang felt uneasy. A commander's gut was never wrong. He pressed his fingers to his temples. "Bu Nian, think carefully. Anything unusual?"

"...Unusual?" Colonel Bu Nian moved through the alleys, swiftly making for the bar as he pondered. "The gunfire—it's not aimed our way. It's coming from the other side of the warehouse."

The other side of the warehouse?

During Ye Wang and Jiang Qi's reconnaissance, staff had briefly outlined the experimental zone's layout. Behind the warehouse lay the core research area—housing classified data, accessible only to authorized personnel under heavy guard. Hence, Ye Wang and Bu Nian had excluded it as a target.

Ye Wang considered, "That's strange."

The genetic lab was the empire's top-secret facility, staffed by elite scholars and engineers, including scions of noble houses like the Pei family—beneficiaries of the imperial system. Why would they draw military attention?

By now, the flares had dimmed, their glow fading into the night, only for dozens more to streak upward.

Ye Wang thought, "This is truly bizarre."

No heavy artillery, just flares—indicating the enemy hadn't locked onto a target yet. Still searching.

Who could have escaped the core zone?

The commander looked down, one hand braced against his forehead. After a long pause, a realization struck him: "Perhaps not just staff can enter the core zone."

There were also... the test subjects.

Those treated as disposable lab animals, living—and dying—within the core zone.

Bu Nian's team had reached safety, smoother than expected, because someone had drawn the enemy's fire.

Who?

Which test subject possessed such capability?

Among the existing subjects, only one fit: someone intimately familiar with both the core zone's layout and every backstreet of the lower district—and with the skills to escape.

Ye Wang snapped open the communicator.

He tapped Jiang Qi's name and initiated the call.

The flat, robotic voice of the artificial intelligence echoed in his ears.

No answer.

Ye Wang hung up and dialed again.

Still no answer.

He called three times straight, but no one picked up.

Ye Wang muttered a curse: "Damn."

His pain-in-the-ass rival, who was supposed to wait quietly for Ye Wang to handle everything and then be sent back to the Federation along with his brother, sister, and the medicine—what kind of shit was he pulling now?

The commander was furious and activated his comm again: "Bu Nian, did you plant countless angled surveillance cams in the lower district?"

Bu Nian, intel through and through, got off on installing cameras wherever they might be useful. It was no exaggeration to say that Bu Nian's control over designated areas of the lower district put the Empire's to shame. Previously, it was precisely this pervasive camera network that had helped him locate Jiang Qi and his siblings.

Bu Nian: "Yes, Major General."

Ye Wang: "Open access. Have your people help me locate Jiang Qi, focusing on the areas I've marked."

He recalled the direction of the flares, assessed Jiang Qi's physical condition, the layout of the alleys, and their entry and exit points, then marked several zones on the map: "This area, this one, and this one."

"Understood, Major General."

Bu Nian acknowledged and moved out.

*

Within one of the circles Ye Wang had drawn, in a hidden culvert—

During the rainy season, this was the slums' runoff channel, with water levels often exceeding two meters. Ordinary people avoided it. Now, in the dry autumn and winter, the culvert had dried up, becoming a suitable hiding place.

The flare light flickered, piercing through layers of mist. Jiang Qi's fingers pressed against the moss-covered wall as he forced himself into a crouch. He lowered his gaze to his abdomen, his trembling fingers brushing over it.

It hurt.

White-hot and persistent.

The bullet had embedded itself in his flesh, and blood was seeping out drop by drop, bleeding through his coat with dark patches.

In fact, it wasn’t just his abdomen—his arms and legs were scraped up in places, and his right arm was bent all wrong, swollen and bruised. Jiang Qi glanced at it. Probably fractured.

During his escape, he had moved too fast, resulting in multiple impact injuries. A rough estimate told him he had at least four fractures across his body.

To maintain agility, he had worn only a thin trench coat for concealment. Now, soaked through by the damp chill, blood loss and hypothermia struck simultaneously, making his head swim.

If he stayed here, he had maybe two hours left.

But that wasn’t the most pressing issue.

Patrols would sweep through long before then.

"If he shows like he said," Jiang Qi thought, his lips curling slightly. "Better fucking show up."

Before long, a tall, lean middle-aged man did appear at the other end of the culvert. The dying light of the flares stretched his shadow long and thin, like a specter's shadow.

If Bu Nian were here, he would recognize this man. The first time he tracked Jiang Qi, the latter had used Pei Gu's black card to locate an underground money house. This person was the owner of that underground money house and also dealt in black-market dealings. Most illegal stabilizers circulating in the market came from him, making him another power to reckon with in the undercurrents of the lower district.

Jiang Qi pulled out several sealed vials from under his coat and tossed them over from a distance.

The man caught them, squinting at the swirling liquid in the flare’s glow. "The real deal?"

Blood trickled from Jiang Qi's lips, which he wiped away carelessly, flashing a mocking grin. "Of course it's real. You’ve bought hundreds—can’t you spot the real thing?"

"According to our agreement, one for my sister, one for you."

"Sure." The boss tucked the vials into his sleeve. "In return, I’ll keep your siblings safe till they die of old age."

Black-market deals were simple—no paperwork, just favors for goods, all on trust. For someone with the underground money house's influence, keeping two crippled nobodies safe wasn’t hard.

"Your siblings aren't the issue," the boss said, almost pityingly, looking at Jiang Qi. "But you—you're going to die."

With the experimental drugs missing, the patrols would tear through the lower district like hounds on a scent. And with a bullet wound in Jiang Qi's abdomen, the boss could hide a vial but not a living person.

Jiang Qi chuckled. "No great loss."

Dying in the lab was as routine as eating breakfast. Bodies piled up on the testing tables like trash. Jiang Qi had long grown accustomed to it.

The boss held his gaze, long and heavy.

Jiang Qi, however, no longer paid him any attention. He leaned against the wall, half his body swallowed by shadow while the other half was illuminated by the flare's cold glow. The light glazed his pale face like porcelain, a brutal contrast to the blood on his lips. His gaze lifted to the fiery sky, the flames mirrored in his eyes like stained glass.

At this moment, this lab-made, blood-soaked killer wore a serene, almost childlike smile at the edge of life.

The boss left.

The culvert fell dead silent, broken only by distant explosions and the howling wind.

Jiang Qi closed his weary eyes.

This was the end he’d seen coming. Yet when it finally arrived, he realized just how goddamn quiet the lower district got at night.

So cold. So silent.

He could feel the blood still seeping from his abdomen, his body temperature dropping, his skin growing numb, his vision blurring into unfocused double images.

Jiang Qi thought, *If only there were some sound.*

The stillness of death was always the hardest to endure.

*Any sound would do.*

Rats, stray cats, drunkards—anything.

Perhaps it was a hallucination of the dying, but Jiang Qi thought he truly heard something.

*Tap. Tap. Tap.*

The steel-toe clank of combat boots, closing in, one step at a time.