Chapter 79

Chapter 79

Here, underground trains shouldered the vast majority of transportation duties, though this type of train had been obsolete elsewhere for a long time.

Ye Mo followed the crowd inside. After observing for a while, he slowly moved forward with the queue. Ticket sales here were still manual.

The clerk didn't even look up, repeated mechanically, "Three coins."

Ye Mo didn't have the local currency. He hid a nutrient solution in his palm and handed it over.

The clerk looked up at Ye Mo. Ye Mo was already scanning the surroundings out of the corner of his eye, looking for a place to slip through. In the end, the clerk didn't take the nutrient solution but still tossed out a ticket, saying coldly, "Behave yourself when you get home, don't run around."

She mistook Ye Mo for a runaway child with no money to get home.

Ye Mo took the ticket, muttered a thanks, and left the window.

The train passed through the chaotic district, and the number of passengers gradually thinned. By the time it reached the terminal station, Ye Mo was the only one left on the train.

When Ye Mo stood up, the driver finally spotted him.

The driver opened the door, watching Ye Mo through the front glass. Just as Ye Mo was about to get off, he couldn't help but call out to stop him, "Wait, do you know where this is?"

Ye Mo stopped at the door. "Yes, the central district."

The driver shook his head at Ye Mo. "No, this is a hell that devours people without spitting out their bones. Good looks won't get you any shortcuts; it will only make you noticed faster. There are fully armed soldiers guarding outside. You won't even get past them. They'll skin you alive."

Ye Mo remained silent. He inclined his head slightly in the driver's direction and then left. In the darkness, he heard the driver sigh.

When Ye Mo was about to exit, the guards at the entrance stopped him. One of them said politely, "Please show your residence permit."

Ye Mo didn't move. They pretty much got the idea. The other guard's attitude instantly became dismissive. "Do you live in the dump?"

Ye Mo didn't move. "Can't I pass?"

The first one replied by the book. "You can, but you need to undergo our inspection. After confirming you're not carrying any dangerous items, you can go."

The other guard looked Ye Mo up and down, made a gesture to stop his companion who was about to step forward, handed his gun to his companion, and said, "I'll frisk him."

Then he looked Ye Mo over. "Raise your hands."

Ye Mo's hands had been in his hoodie pockets. He held the blade Chris had given him between his fingers and slowly raised his hands.

But before the other's hand could touch Ye Mo, the first guard grabbed his wrist. "That area doesn't need checking."

"Your child is about his age. I heard you talking on the comm just now; he said he and your wife would bring you dinner tonight."

The two stood off for a while. Finally, the other gave in, muttering under his breath, "Hypocrite."

The man stepped forward. He followed procedure, scanned Ye Mo with a detector, then gave Ye Mo's pockets a quick pat-down. He glanced at Ye Mo and lowered his voice. "You shouldn't be here."

But he still let Ye Mo pass.

Ye Mo quietly put the blade back into his pocket. Even after walking some distance, when he looked back, he could still see the man gesturing to him, urging him to leave quickly.

The streets were wide and clean, with decently dressed people coming and going. Guard booths were placed at regular intervals.

From a distance, Ye Mo saw the iconic building the short guy had described to him. He wasn't far from it.

Ye Mo quickened his pace. He needed to hurry. This area was too open; moving around was too conspicuous. Once daytime came and more people were out, his actions would become very difficult.

He moved across the rooftops, avoiding the guards, and soon reached his destination. The second floor had floor-to-ceiling windows, still brightly lit inside. Ye Mo scaled the building to the third floor.

Ye Mo chose a window with no light coming from inside, carefully stepped onto the windowsill, felt for the window catch, channeled his mental energy into the blade, and with a soft click, the window was pushed open. After climbing in, Ye Mo carefully closed the window again.

Using the faint light coming from outside, he scanned the room. It was a small, narrow storage room for cleaning tools, holding a few uniforms and several small carts.

After a while, Ye Mo, fully covered up, pushed open the door. Wearing a uniform and pushing a cart with tools, he looked both ways and pushed it in one direction.

Just after walking out of the corridor, Ye Mo was called out. "Hey, over there, you, come here."

Ye Mo paused for a moment. Finally, after the other person urged him again, he walked over with his head down.

The person complained a bit about Ye Mo's slow movements, then pointed in a direction. "Go clean those rooms over there. The guests will be back soon. It's the same few rooms."

Ye Mo gave an indistinct "mm" and pushed the cart over. Ye Mo deliberately moved very slowly, but when he reached the room door, the person who had directed him was still standing there, not having left.

Ye Mo steeled himself and pushed the door, finding it unlocked. He directly pushed the small cart inside.

The room was large, luxuriously decorated, with carpets on the floor and decorative oil paintings on the walls.

Ye Mo looked around. The room had clearly been occupied for some time. Besides the crafts, there were obviously some personal items placed around. The room actually didn't need much cleaning at all; everything was neat and tidy, like a soldier's.

Ye Mo originally intended to leave directly, but just before leaving, his gaze swept over the photo frame on the bedside table. A case was leaning against the wall next to the frame.

But Ye Mo didn't pay it much mind. He walked to the table, crouched down, and looked at the photo. The background in the photo was a living room, with three people, all with outstanding appearances. On both sides were a man and a woman, both very young. The room was somewhat dark, the woman's lips a striking red. They stood straight, looking towards the camera. They wore white uniforms, with a blood-and-fire intertwined emblem on their chests, only the shoulder epaulette colors were different.

Between them was a slightly younger child. The features of the several people bore some resemblance. Ye Mo couldn't help but reach out and touch the child's features in the middle, feeling an intense sense of familiarity.

His head began to ache dully again. Ye Mo withdrew his hand, instinctively placing it on the case beside him.

The case suddenly made a clicking sound. Ye Mo was somewhat startled and stood up.

The case emitted a mechanical, synthesized electronic voice. "Verification successful."

After this sound came the sound of gears meshing. The case was opened.

Ye Mo was just about to step forward and try to restore it to its original state when the door opened. A man walked in from outside. He wore gloves and a cloak, his appearance unclear.

The man saw Ye Mo as soon as he entered. "I remember telling your supervisor, no service is needed."

Ye Mo kept his head down. "My apologies, sir. I'll leave immediately."

After saying this, Ye Mo pushed the cart and hurriedly went out the door.

Ye Mo retraced his route back, needing to leave immediately before being discovered.

A man supporting a drunkard brushed past Ye Mo. The man looked up and stopped Ye Mo. "Wait a moment."

Ye Mo's steps halted. The man gestured to the soiled carpet. "You, come here and clean this up."

...

In the room, the man took off his hat and cloak, placing them aside. As he took off his gloves, he inspected the room as usual, his gaze finally resting on the photo frame on the bedside table.

The position of the photo frame had shifted slightly, moved back a bit. Someone had touched it.

Then the man looked at the case next to the frame. He walked over and gave it a light push. His hand paused. The case was open.

This case was given to him by his father. It recorded genetic information; only family members with blood relations could open it. Each of their children had one such case. More precise conditions could be set further, making the case openable only by oneself.

But the man had kept this design as a kind of memento, for he could no longer see his flesh-and-blood family again.

The man paused before the box for a few seconds, then came to an astonishing conclusion. He quickly turned and left the room. The cleaning cart was still not far away.

He walked briskly over to Ye Mo.

Ye Mo’s entire body tensed. He had been using tools to clean the carpet, but when the man’s leather shoes appeared before him, his movements froze.

The man seemed to hold a high status. The drunkard standing to the side addressed him obsequiously, explaining cautiously, "Lord Faceless, I came to the third floor to see this gentleman to his room. We aren't permitted here without authorization. Is there something you need?"

Faceless replied curtly, "Leave."

The man quickly departed, leaving only Ye Mo and Faceless in the hallway. Ye Mo kept his head lowered, but soon the man’s knee appeared in his field of vision—Faceless had gone down on one knee.

Faceless tried to soften his voice. "What’s your name?"

Ye Mo remained silent, head still bowed.

Faceless reached out a hand, and Ye Mo instinctively recoiled, lifting his head in the process. This allowed Faceless to see his face clearly.

Faceless’s pupils contracted sharply. Cyril Grass.

He instinctively grabbed Ye Mo’s wrist.

Faceless’s reaction was unmistakable. Ye Mo’s gaze shifted from his captured wrist to Faceless himself. "Do you know me?"

"Then do you know my family?"

Faceless stared intently at Ye Mo, then after a moment, grunted in acknowledgment. How could he not know? He had personally devised and participated in the plan to accelerate this Grass’s demise.

Faceless tried to maintain his usual composure. "Why are you here?"

But his other hand clenched tightly, nails digging deep into his palm.

Ye Mo noticed that while Faceless’s voice was mostly steady, it trembled slightly on certain syllables. However, Ye Mo was too focused on clutching at this sudden lead, assuming the other was simply overwhelmed with emotion, much like himself.

"Are you my family? I woke up here, having forgotten many things. Are my parents here too?"

Faceless avoided answering. Instead, he began examining Ye Mo’s body, scrutinizing every inch of exposed skin as if searching for something. "Are you an adult? How old are you this year?"

If—if this was the child left behind from back then, that would explain why he hadn’t reacted to the drug at all.

He had been designed to be immune to the developed drug, but he would die upon reaching adulthood. This was the final "lock," a safety protocol deliberately set to trigger just as Grass’s combat power was about to increase exponentially.

The original plan was that if deemed qualified, the safety protocol would be halted. If deemed unqualified, destruction would commence. The safety protocol was a safeguard against unforeseen circumstances.

They could not control an out-of-control adult Grass.

Faceless had always believed that child was dead. Now, the laboratory from back then had long been disbanded, and most of the experiment’s participants had been executed by Grass. Faceless, not being a researcher, had no way to stop the protocol.

Ye Mo tried to pull his wrist back, but Faceless held on too tightly. "I don’t remember."

He looked at Faceless, a hint of reproach in his tone. "You weren’t really listening to me."

Faceless seemed to snap back to reality, struggling to recall what Ye Mo had just said. "Right, you said you forgot."

"I should have listened to you properly."