Chapter 6: Trapped

Chapter 6: Trapped

Shu Hanqing turned and headed down a different fork in the opposite direction.

This path led deeper into the living quarters or backup storage areas, and before he had gone far, a few zombies shambled out of the shadows.

Shu Hanqing gripped a crystal core in his right hand while his left palm opened flat.

He channeled his ability, and moisture in the air rapidly condensed in his palm. But this time, instead of forming a Water Chain, he changed his approach—the clear droplets, under the surging energy, plummeted in temperature, instantly freezing into several sharp ice spikes.

He flung his arm out, and the ice spikes shot forward with a whistle, accurately piercing the chests of the two nearest zombies. The sheer force sent them staggering backward, pinning them to the mottled wall.

"Hah... hah..."

The zombies let out guttural roars. No blood flowed from the ice-spike wounds—just a thick, dark, sticky liquid oozing out slowly.

Their rotting facial muscles twitched, their cloudy eyes rolled, and drool dripped from lips stretched over missing teeth.

The ice spikes had punctured their long-dried chest cavities, releasing a nauseating stench of rotting insides that nearly made Shu Hanqing gag.

Using his ability that intensely took a toll on him.

The ice spikes had looked clean and precise, but they'd drained a serious chunk of his energy. The backlash pushed him back half a step.

And the purple crystal core he had been tightly gripping visibly dimmed at an alarming rate—its glossy deep purple fading to a dull, ashen gray. Finally, with a soft crack, fine fissures spread across its surface, and it became nothing but a useless stone, completely drained of energy.

Shu Hanqing shook out his stinging hand and tossed the dead crystal aside.

Use and toss, huh.

He was just about to dig another core out of his tactical pack to keep hunting.

Then, from the far end of the corridor, came sounds far denser and more chaotic than scattered footsteps.

The hair-raising noise grew closer. The ground trembled, and dust rained down from the ceiling.

A zombie tide!

A person's power and stamina were limited—they could get tired, scared, or hurt.

But zombies couldn't.

They felt no pain and feared no death. They only craved fresh flesh and blood—endless, like a tide.

How had the lab let out this many? From the sound of it, at least dozens—if not hundreds—of zombies had gotten loose.

The thought flashed through Shu Hanqing's mind for a split second before a more urgent survival instinct took over.

Shu Hanqing made a split-second decision, spun around, and bolted back the way he'd come—toward the door he'd sealed shut.

But footsteps echoed from that direction too.

He was caught in a pincer move.

Halfway back, Shu Hanqing thought: What's the point? That door could only hold Mu Ye and Rong Hua for so long—it would never survive a tide of this size. Once it gave way, all three of them would be trapped like fish in a barrel—done for.

Shu Hanqing's heart hammered in his chest. His eyes swept the area. The corridor wasn't wide, and both sides were lined with abandoned equipment racks, rusty carts, and scattered glass shards.

No time to think. He reached into his tactical pack and pulled out Mu Ye's deep-purple core—the one with the most energy—and clenched it tight.

The ice-blue glow of his power flared again.

He let out a low shout and thrust both hands forward.

The heavy metal racks, instruments, and carts on both sides were yanked and toppled, crashing together into a crooked but effective barricade across the narrow passage.

The zombies were blocked, their roars growing more frantic as they desperately shoved and clawed at the barricade.

The deep-purple core in Shu Hanqing's hand dimmed drastically again. Beyond the blocked zombies, more shadowy figures loomed, surging forward like a wave.

Shu Hanqing's head shot up.

Set into the wall near the ceiling on one side of the corridor was a lone, rusted iron staircase.

The stairs were narrow and vertical, leading up to a square opening in the ceiling—what looked like a maintenance hatch or vent entrance.

The bottom section of the ladder had rotted away long ago.

That was the only way out—the only way to avoid the zombie tide on the ground.

No time to hesitate.

Shu Hanqing lunged up, grabbing the lowest rung of the iron ladder with both hands. The ladder groaned under his weight, rust flakes showering down. Gritting his teeth, he climbed as fast as he could.

The ladder wasn't tall—only three or four meters—but as he climbed, he found several rungs missing and the rest rusted loose. When he finally reached the top, he shoved hard against the square iron door in the ceiling.

The door was heavy, its edges rusted solid. Shu Hanqing grabbed a nearby pipe with one hand to steady himself and desperately wrenched at the warped handle with the other.

Just as he was about to snap the flimsy handle off, a blood-curdling sound came from below—zombies had already crawled over his makeshift barricade and were stumbling toward the base of the ladder.

They raised their rotting faces, cloudy eyes locked on Shu Hanqing above, letting out hungry roars. Their claw-like arms reached out, and they started climbing the rickety ladder.

"Damn it!" Shu Hanqing cursed under his breath. In desperation, he raised his foot and kicked with everything he had at the weakest welds where the ladder met the wall.

The rusted welds snapped with a piercing screech. The whole ladder shook violently, then, with a teeth-grinding screech of twisting metal, collapsed, taking the few zombies that had started climbing down with it.

The ladder crashed to the ground, sending up a cloud of dust.

Just as Shu Hanqing started to breathe a sigh of relief, the walkie-talkie clipped to his waist crackled to life.

Through the static, Yun Ying's anxious voice came through, broken and choppy: "Brother Shu... Brother Shu, where are you? We've hit a bit of trouble over here... Something's... off... We've called for backup..."

What "bit of trouble"? Shu Hanqing wondered—could it be that damn fruit finally kicking in?

Whether it was in his head or just the adrenaline from the fight, Shu Hanqing felt a strange warmth stirring in his gut, slowly spreading through his limbs. It left his mouth dry and his mind restless.

Shu Hanqing spoke fast: "Yun Ying, listen! I've got a zombie tide here! A ton of them! Mu Ye and Rong Hua got locked in—"

The location never made it out of his mouth.

"ROAR—!"

Below, an unusually fast, more heavily mutated zombie—using the fallen ladder and its kin's bodies as stepping stones—leaped straight up. Its withered but terrifyingly strong arm barely grazed Shu Hanqing's pant leg.

Shu Hanqing flinched, instinctively jerking back. The walkie-talkie in his hand slipped from his grip in the sudden shock of the dodge.

The small black walkie-talkie hit the zombie-covered floor with a crack. The instant it landed, filthy hands snatched it up, shoved it into their mouths, and mutated teeth bit down hard.

A brittle crack of plastic, then one last half-sentence of Yun Ying's muffled cry—and then the device went dead.

Shu Hanqing was completely stunned.

His only way to communicate was gone.

He was truly alone now, trapped on this shaky little island suspended several meters above the ground.

Survival instinct kicked in, overriding everything else.

Shu Hanqing grabbed the handle of the iron door above his head with both hands again, straining with all his might, twisting and pulling upward desperately. Thick rust and dust accumulated in the door hinge showered down, falling into his collar.

Just as he was about to give up, the handle finally budged.

Without even checking what was inside, Shu Hanqing squeezed through the narrow gap, clawing his way through, then used the last of his strength to slam the iron door shut and lock it.

It took him a while to catch his breath and take in his new surroundings.

This was a small equipment maintenance crawlspace, only about a dozen square meters.

High up, there was a small, grime-covered ventilation window that let in a faint sliver of daylight, just enough to make out shapes.

The room was cluttered with dust-covered shelving units, all empty, along with scattered metal parts that you couldn't tell what they were for.

He steadied himself against the wall, stood up, brushed the dust from his clothes, and cautiously moved deeper into the room.

The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet, some spots feeling especially hollow underfoot. When he got near the center of the room, he felt something off—that section of floor sounded distinctly hollow and gave slightly under his weight.

Empty?

Shu Hanqing's heart skipped a beat. He crouched down and knocked on the spot with his finger. A hollow thud-thud-thud confirmed his hunch.

From the scattered parts nearby, he picked up a metal pry bar with a reasonably sharp end, wedged it into the gap in the floorboard, and pried hard.

The rotted wooden plank came up with a creak, sending up a puff of wood chips and years' worth of dust that made him cough.

Beneath the floor was a pitch-black opening, just big enough for one person to fit through. Shu Hanqing picked up a small rusty bolt from nearby, dropped it down, and listened carefully.

"Tap... tap... tap... thud..."

The sound went from clear to muffled, the last one a dull thud on solid ground.

Didn't sound too deep—maybe three or four meters.

Shu Hanqing stared at the dark entrance, his mind racing. The iron door above was shut, so the horde shouldn't be able to get in, but he couldn't get out either. He needed to find a way out and meet back up with his teammates.

Though Mu Ye and Rong Hua were probably having a moment right now.

He asked the Plot Guide mentally: "What's down there?"

Plot Guide: "Data missing. This area isn't covered in the main storyline."

Shu Hanqing frowned. This Plot Guide was useless.

"Will I die if I jump?"

Plot Guide: "Based on current environmental data, preliminary estimate: hard ground below, vertical drop of roughly 3.5 to 4.2 meters. Given your current physical condition, with proper landing posture, there's a high chance of joint sprains or minor fractures. Chance of death is under ten percent. But the environment below is unknown, and there are other risks I can't assess."

Under ten percent chance of death—that didn't sound too bad.

Better than staying here waiting for that weird heat to completely take over.

Shu Hanqing tucked the pry bar into his waistband, crouched at the edge of the opening, gripped the edge with both hands, slowly lowered himself down, closed his eyes, and let go—

The Plot Guide sputtered: "Wait, you're actually jumping..."

After a brief drop, Shu Hanqing's feet landed solidly on the hard, cold ground below. He stumbled and grabbed the rough wall beside him to steady himself.

He looked up, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. This was a narrow maintenance corridor, but not far ahead, a faint orange-red glow flickered in the darkness on one side.

Like... fire.

Shu Hanqing's fingers tightened around the hilt of the dagger at his waist. He moved quietly toward the source of the light, moving carefully.

The corridor curved ahead, and the light spilled out from around the bend. He pressed himself against the cold wall and slowly poked his head out just enough to see inside.

Around the corner was a fairly spacious area.

The floor was littered with discarded metal parts and shattered tiles.

At either end of the space, several orange-red fires kept alive by Superpower burned, their light casting two figures sitting in the shadows of opposite corners, silently facing off across the debris-strewn space between them.

It was Mu Ye and Rong Hua.

The open area between them showed clear signs of a violent struggle.

Shattered chunks of concrete, scorch marks, and several twisted, charred remnants that looked like plant vines.

The moment Shu Hanqing appeared, both of them noticed immediately.

Two pairs of eyes locked onto him in the flickering firelight—wary for a moment, then fixed on him intently.

Shu Hanqing found something unsettling about that look.

The air was thick with the faint scorched smell of the fires, plus a strange, sweet warmth that made his nose tingle and his heart race for no reason—coming from both Mu Ye and Rong Hua's directions.

That scent was damn intoxicating, drying out his throat. The unfamiliar heat stirring inside him felt like it had oil thrown on it.

Shu Hanqing actually felt the urge to move closer to the source of that scent—closer, and closer still.

Mu Ye moved first, slowly rising from his corner, his movements a beat slower than usual, his gaze never leaving Shu Hanqing's face. His eyes were like a layer of mist with dark fire burning underneath. He walked toward Shu Hanqing, steps unsteady: "Hanqing? How did you get here?"

As he got closer, his nostrils flared, and the mist in his eyes seemed to thicken. He sounded confused: "You smell so good..."

Mu Ye had already closed the distance, standing right in front of Shu Hanqing, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him—hotter than the flames. He raised a hand, reaching for Shu Hanqing's cheek.

At the same time, another figure closed in—Rong Hua had gotten to his feet without warning. The young man's usual cold, world-weary face looked like its icy surface had been scorched by magma, his eyes a mess of confusion and obsessive longing, fixed on Shu Hanqing as he also reached out a hand.

Two equally alluring scents closed in on him from both sides. Shu Hanqing's mind went blank for a split second, but his body reacted before his brain could—just as those two hands were about to touch him, he sprang back like he'd been electrocuted.

His instinctive recoil snapped both of them back to their senses.

Mu Ye's hand froze mid-air. Rong Hua seemed to realize something too and yanked his hand back in annoyance.

The unnatural obsession and hunger in their eyes faded a bit.

Shu Hanqing felt like he was going crazy. Weren't they supposed to be all over each other? What did this have to do with him?

But then something even weirder happened.

The lingering obsession in Rong Hua's eyes, the moment he saw Mu Ye, suddenly flared into aggression. From the ground around him, several dark green, thorn-covered vines burst forth, lashing out wildly and uncontrollably, whipping and tangling toward Mu Ye just a few steps away.

Mu Ye turned, and without any visible movement, the flames around him suddenly surged, transforming into several blazing fire serpents that lunged fiercely at the vines.

The sound of scorching filled the air as the aggressive vines, upon contact with the flames, visibly blackened and carbonized at an alarming speed. Yet the vines showed no sign of discouragement, splitting off again to continue their advance.

Shu Hanqing leaned against the wall, barely able to stand, the rogue heat inside him making his limbs go weak and beading sweat on his forehead. Watching the explosive confrontation before him, his thoughts were a total mess: "Wait, can someone tell me why they suddenly started fighting? Is this fight-or-make-out?"

If Shu Hanqing wasn't mistaken, there was no love in this at all—it looked more like intense rivalry and aggression between competitors.

The fierce clash of energy and killing intent from the fight, however, seemed to restore a measure of rationality to both men.

The vines and flames simultaneously extinguished and retracted.

Mu Ye stepped back two paces, steadying himself, his fingers rapidly rolling the Buddhist beads on his wrist, while Rong Hua retreated to the other side, his eyes filled with a mix of shame and fury. A few vines, as if punishing himself or venting, coiled around his own wrist and tightened.

"That fruit is problematic," Mu Ye spoke first. "Hanqing, are you alright? Have you—"

He didn't finish the sentence, but the implication was clear.

Shu Hanqing nodded. "...Stay away from me."

A vine shot out, this time targeting not Mu Ye but Shu Hanqing. It slipped past Mu Ye, wrapped around Shu Hanqing's waist, and yanked him sharply toward Rong Hua.

Shu Hanqing was yanked off his feet, and Mu Ye watched as the vine pulled him away, his gaze darkening instantly as he clenched the beads in his palm.

Shu Hanqing was dumped on the ground near Rong Hua, totally dazed.

The vine, influenced by Rong Hua's chaotic emotions, had gotten weirdly clingy. Instead of releasing him after pulling him over, it intensified, writhing against Shu Hanqing's side. Several thin tendrils split off from the tip, sneaking right into the open hem of his combat suit, crawling up his cool abdomen. A couple more slithered along his sweaty neck, brushing past his pounding pulse, trying to worm their way into his collar.

Cold and slick, the vine slithered against Shu Hanqing's skin.

Shu Hanqing shuddered violently, his face a mess of shock, embarrassment, and annoyance: "Rong Hua! Get it off me!"

"Fwoosh—!"

A searing, blindingly white thread of fire, like a laser, grazed Shu Hanqing's neck and collar from Mu Ye's fingertip.

The little tendrils trying to get in instantly turned to smoke, and the main vine coiled around Shu Hanqing's waist was severed by that swift, high-temperature strike.

The cut end was charred black, giving off thin wisps of white smoke.

The severed vine went limp and dropped at Shu Hanqing's feet.

Shu Hanqing clutched his scorched neck, panting heavily.

Mu Ye fixed his gaze unwaveringly on Rong Hua, standing a few steps away, his gaze like ice: "Don't you dare touch Hanqing. I've got my eye on you."

Rong Hua: "...And I'm watching you."

Shu Hanqing: "..." Doesn't anyone care about me?

The situation settled into a weirdly tense standoff.

All three of them staked out a corner of the cramped space.

Mu Ye closed his eyes again, but he was rolling the beads way faster than usual.

Rong Hua stood at the other end, his face pale, fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms. The runaway vines had all slunk back underground.

Shu Hanqing crouched in a corner slightly farther from both, hugging his knees, trying to make himself small against the waves of heat rolling through him.

Time dragged on in suffocating silence and misery.

After what felt like forever, the walkie-talkie clipped to Mu Ye's waist had been giving off nothing but faint static thanks to the terrible underground signal. Suddenly, it crackled, catching a garbled transmission.

Yun Ying's voice crackled through: "Brother Mu? Can you hear me? Something's wrong over here—everyone suddenly started making out and grabbing each other, and we can't pry them apart! I can't even watch! I can't deal with this, so I'm calling for backup! Hold on!"

The signal cut out again, leaving only static.

Shu Hanqing listened, and yeah, it was definitely the fruit. He groaned inwardly. What a total loss.

He buried his burning face in his arms, still hugging his knees.

The vibe in the tiny space got even weirder.

Shu Hanqing could feel Rong Hua's energy starting to go haywire again, that hungry gaze sweeping over him again.

Shu Hanqing wasn't exactly a virgin, so he could keep it together, but clearly Rong Hua, being younger, was way more worked up.

Feeling his skin crawl under that stare, Shu Hanqing raised a hand, his fingertips tingling with Superpower. A water orb appeared out of nowhere and splashed right over Rong Hua's head.

"Splash!"

Rong Hua went completely still, his hungry, dazed look turning into pure confusion. A few tiny white flowers sprouted from the roots of his wet hair, strikingly visible in the dim light.

Wait—didn't Rong Hua only sprout flowers when he was happy? He got them from being hit too?

But that wasn't enough to stop Rong Hua. Thin vines, like tireless, shy tentacles, crept out from the shadows at Rong Hua's feet once more, slithering slowly across the ground toward Shu Hanqing, trying to coil around his calf.

Shu Hanqing kicked at the vine. Like a puppy, it retreated a bit, then tentatively crept forward again, brushing against his calf.

Shu Hanqing: "..."

Mu Ye remained with his eyes closed, rolling the beads, his profile half-lit, half-shadowed in the dancing firelight, his nose straight.

Shu Hanqing's gaze was involuntarily drawn to those hands.

An untimely memory from the original novel surfaced in his mind. It was an extremely veiled, sensual passage describing how Mu Ye, appearing ascetic, was actually deeply lustful at his core, and that his devotion to Buddhism was merely a means to suppress his nature.

That string of beads, worn smooth and warm from his touch, and how, in certain unspeakable situations, it was used as a tool...

Shu Hanqing squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head hard, trying to banish those vivid images from his mind.

But the fire within him, fueled by those uncontrollable thoughts, blazed even more fiercely. He curled up tighter, a choked sob escaping his throat.