Chapter 37

Sister Jia, who had been pretending to be unconscious all along, squinted to finish reading. Without a shred of hesitation, she tore her Invitation Letter. Her figure faded and vanished.

Yin Yu waved a hand. “Goodbye, Mingming. I really look forward to our next meeting.”

Before Zhu Ming could say, “I’m not looking forward to it at all!”, both Yin Yu and Tu Wei had already left.

Miss Legs said she hoped to enter dungeons with them again next time, continuing to be comrades-in-arms, and then she left as well.

Just as Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu were about to leave, a transparent object separated from Doudou’s body. Wenren Tu’s eyes lit up. She hurried forward and picked it up. “It’s a dungeon core!”

It was a fragment reminiscent of crystal. Zhu Ming leaned in to look, then her gaze fell on Doudou’s corpse.

She placed its drooping head back into the old man’s arms. “How do you destroy this thing?”

Wenren Tu said, “Simple. Just use a Supernatural Ability.”

With the task completed, Supernatural Abilities could be used again. Wenren Tu placed the fragment in Zhu Ming’s hand. “Here you go, Zhu Skinflint. After you collect the bonus, be generous to A-Zou.”

Zhu Ming coughed dryly. “Got it, Sister A-Tu, my good sister.”

Without hesitation, she released her Flames. A wisp of black smoke evaporated from the transparent, beautiful, crystal-like fragment. In no time, it vanished completely.

At the same moment, the entire world shook. Huge cracks spread across the sky. The light grew dimmer and dimmer, as if the sky were about to collapse.

Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu hastily tore their Invitation Letters.

A blur before their eyes, consciousness slowly returning. Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu looked at each other. They were back in the Little Fire God Strange News Studio.

Wenren Tu checked the time on her mobile phone. Synchronized with the dungeon and reality, two days had passed.

It was the wee hours of the morning. The two were exhausted and sleepy. Zhu Ming, in particular, was tattered and battered, a sorry sight. They didn’t discuss any business. Going back to sleep was the top priority.

…

In a silent, dark room, a woman suddenly gasped, sitting bolt upright in bed.

It was early morning. Yin Qingjia got up, changed her clothes, and hurriedly left the room.

In the underground laboratory, the attendant on duty saw Yin Qingjia and quickly greeted her, “Teacher Yin! Where have you been these past two days? You’re finally here.”

Yin Qingjia paused. “What, has something happened?”

The attendant walked alongside her, saying, “It’s good news. We’ve discovered that No. 44 has developed self-awareness. Its fingers moved, but it hasn’t fully awakened yet.”

Yin Qingjia’s expression instantly became one of ecstasy. “Wonderful! I knew this time we’d succeed!”

The two reached the deepest part of the underground laboratory. There stood a massive vertical culture vessel, connected by tubes to several other vertical culture vessels. In the centermost one was submerged a grotesque humanoid creature with wings sprouting from its back. The creatures in the other vessels appeared relatively more normal.

The grotesque, winged creature was No. 44—a miracle brought by Yin Qingjia.

Actually, only it had a number here. The others soaking in the culture vessels were its food.

How No. 44 was created, the attendant wasn’t entirely clear. He hadn’t been involved in the project back then. All he knew was that Yin Qingjia had poured all her heart and soul into No. 44, yet it never woke.

The attendant said, “The experiment records for the past two days are here. Teacher Yin, should I report this good news to President Zhao and ask him to increase investment?”

In the gloomy lab, Yin Qingjia walked step by step closer to No. 44. It had a woman’s head, grotesquely sharp, malformed claws, hard, semi-translucent fine scales, and dark blue-black insectoid wings.

The attendant recalled some hearsay and sighed, “I heard that out of a batch of a hundred experimental subjects back then, only it survived. Now it’s finally waking up. Truly a miracle. Teacher Yin, why don’t we create another batch? Maybe another viable specimen could emerge.”

Yin Qingjia chuckled softly. “No need. A miracle is a miracle precisely because it cannot be replicated. It is my most perfect creation. I will use everything I have to nurture it.”

The attendant prayed, “I hope it treats us kindly when it fully awakens. That would make future experiments much easier.”

“It will.” Yin Qingjia’s lips curved slightly upwards. Just that, though—this assurance was only for herself.

The closer she got, the more Yin Qingjia could feel that faint, almost intangible connection between her and it. When she placed her hand on the tempered glass to touch it, the monster sleeping in the water silently drew near.

Seeing this, the attendant exclaimed in surprise, “Teacher Yin, it can sense you! And its reaction is even stronger than before!”

Because when she conducted the experiments, she had fused her own blood into the experimental subjects. That decision had indeed been the right one.

The smile on Yin Qingjia’s face grew wider. “Yes, it definitely remembers me. Weren’t you going to find President Zhao? Let him see the results with his own eyes.”

The attendant said happily, “I hope he’ll be generous this time.”

Yin Qingjia added, “Oh, and call everyone else over.”

“Okay!”

About an hour before, the resting researchers and President Zhao all rushed over. Gathered in this secret laboratory, looking at the monster, their excitement was beyond words.

After his joy subsided, President Zhao suddenly remembered something. “Teacher Yin, it’s awake, but how exactly can I gain superpowers?”

Yin Qingjia smiled. “This is only the first step towards success. Unless you’re willing to become an experimental subject yourself, it can’t be done in the short term.”

President Zhao’s expression soured. “I want a safe and fast method. Isn’t your research speed a bit too slow?”

Yin Qingjia held a remote control in her hand. She looked at No. 44 obsessively, stepping back. “Can’t be helped. Creating a perfect creature that rivals a deity isn’t so easy.”

Click!

The laboratory suddenly plunged into darkness.

“Who turned off the lights?!” President Zhao was startled.

Splash—

“Ah! Where’s this water coming from?!”

The sudden darkness threw the people in the lab into chaos. Surging, viscous liquid, carrying a strange yet familiar smell, rapidly flowed and spread. President Zhao didn’t know it, but the other researchers were intimately familiar with that scent. It came from the culture fluid!

Ominous squelching sounds spread throughout the lab. The attendant stretched his trembling hands forward, trying to press the light switch.

But he didn’t touch the switch. He touched something cold and slippery instead.

…

Ten minutes later, the lights came back on. The entire laboratory was filled with severed limbs and broken body parts.

Large swathes of blood had dyed the spilled culture fluid on the floor red. No. 44 was crouched in a corner, gnawing on a mangled, bloody arm.

She seemed a little afraid of the brightness, her body cringing slightly, but the motion of tearing flesh and gnawing bone didn’t stop for a moment.

So hungry, so hungry, so hungry!

A figure walked up to her. No. 44 quickly threw aside the arm, frantically wiping her mouth. Her remaining human memories made her realize this was terrible behavior that would disgust and frighten others. She didn’t want to scare her, didn’t want her to dislike her.

But she didn’t.

Yin Qingjia stroked her still-wet hair, excitement twisting her face into a distorted smile. “Good child. Well done.”

No. 44 looked up at her with devotion, gently nuzzling her palm.

Yin Qingjia pulled her up. “Now we need to find you some clothes and get out of here.”

At the entrance to this most secluded lab stood Yin Qingjia’s true, sole assistant. She asked, “Teacher, why are we moving locations so quickly this time? Once President Zhao sees the results, he’ll definitely increase investment. We could have whatever we wanted then.”

Yin Qingjia’s face darkened. “She found me.”

The little assistant said, surprised, “You mean, Yin…”

Yin Qingjia nodded, somewhat agitated. “I suspect she’s already discovered I was here. We need to leave immediately. Change identity, change location. Right, wasn’t there a man named Wang looking for me to research immortality techniques last time? Tell him to prepare. We’ll go there.”

Since they were leaving, President Zhao and the others couldn’t be left alive. Only the dead could keep secrets.

“Understood. The car is already arranged. Teacher, you take No. 44 and leave first. I’ll go delete the surveillance footage.”

Half an hour later, a great fire ignited in the hidden underground laboratory, reducing all its secrets to ashes.

About a kilometer away, in an abandoned, unfinished building, a girl in a white dress with an ordinary face hid in the darkness, making a phone call. “Sister, Yin Qingjia left. They’re going to seek refuge with a businessman named Wang Jinbao.”

She had been watching Yin Qingjia for quite some time. In fact, they had extended an olive branch to her before.

Pity Yin Qingjia was too timid. She only dared to cooperate with ordinary people.

On the other end of the line, a voice, bone-meltingly seductive, laughed. “Go prepare some spirit money for that Mr. Wang. It probably won’t be long before he goes to keep that Mr. Zhao company.”

…

The next afternoon, Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu woke up one after the other.

After washing up and eating, Wenren Tu said, “I’ll head to the Management Bureau later to report the dungeon and help you collect your bonus. Don’t be too grateful—typically, this bonus isn’t paid out until your Protective Talisman is inspected in the next dungeon.”

Zhu Ming smiled. “Sure. I’ll send you my card number later.”

Wenren Tu added, “And about Yin Yu. Although her name isn’t in the system, at least we now know two people connected to her. I’ll investigate more. Sooner or later, we’ll dig her out in reality.”

Of the two people connected to Yin Yu, one was named Tu Wei—a name derived from the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches, likely an alias. And her face couldn’t be seen, making her difficult to investigate.

But that Sister Jia… Yin Yu called her Qingjia. That name should be real. Wenren Tu had memorized her face. She needed to find someone to draw it immediately. There would come a day she’d be found.

After Wenren Tu left, less than a minute passed before two women in black suits emerged from hidden corners.

“Eldest Miss, you’ve been delayed three days this time.” One woman bowed, her attitude very respectful. “The Family Head has been informed of your entry into the Dark Realm space and has decided to forgive this broken appointment. However, you must return home tonight. No more delays.”

Zhu Ming sneered. “As if I need her forgiveness?”

Though she said this, she stood up, went out with the two women in black suits, and got into an understated black Audi SUV.

The car drove further away. An hour later, it stopped before a sprawling classical estate. In the Flower Capital, where land was worth its weight in gold, owning such an estate spoke volumes about one’s family background.

Passing through a courtyard dappled by swaying tree shadows, winding around strangely-shaped rockeries, the black-suited woman turned and said, “Eldest Miss, the Family Head requests you go first to…”

The person was already gone.

Zhu Ming knew the way by heart. She arrived at a tranquil courtyard. There were no guards here because none were needed. Apart from a select few, no one else had permission to enter. They would be naturally repelled by this place.

Zhu Ming entered the inner room, opened a door carved with fine patterns, and pressed a switch. Faint light shone from above downwards. She followed the stone-laid stairway down, down, further down…

Finally, her feet touched level ground. But the destination hadn’t yet been reached.

The temperature here was higher than above ground, increasing the deeper she went.

Zhu Ming walked along the oppressive stone corridor, passing through one door after another carved with complex formations. She finally entered a stone chamber. It was already hotter here than the peak of a sweltering summer afternoon.

No electrical wiring could be laid here, so naturally, there were no electric lights. Zhu Ming found a box of matches on a stand by the door and lit the lamps one by one.

In the center of the stone chamber was a circular, shallow altar. And on it, nothing else was placed but a single, ancient, simple longbow. The bow’s body seemed like both metal and wood. A light flick of a fingertip produced a clear, resonant sound.

Suppressed, violent, baleful energy coiled around the bow. Zhu Ming held a small knife and walked step by step closer.

It was too hot.

When she stepped onto the altar, the scorching heat nearly burned her.

In the dim stone chamber, the black-haired woman shed her clothes, cut open her wrist. She knelt beside the longbow, gathered it into her arms, and slowly smeared her blood onto it.

This was an intimately familiar process. She had done it many times. She knew what would happen next. The bow’s baleful energy would fully enter her body. She would use her own body and blood to pacify this longbow.

The violent emotions grew more and more extreme. Zhu Ming’s head throbbed painfully. The murmuring, roaring voices reached a crescendo simultaneously, wailing and filling her entire brain.

No, this time the longbow’s reaction seemed too intense.

With a boom, as if something exploded deep within her soul, Zhu Ming looked down in a daze.

Drip, drip.

Blood unceasingly dripped from her nose and mouth.

Whoosh—

A tiny cluster of flames ignited on the longbow, warm and cozy.

How could this be? Zhu Ming thought sluggishly. This was the first time she’d ever seen the longbow react this way.

The fire rapidly spread, burning onto Zhu Ming, then quietly burrowing into the woman’s flesh and blood, establishing an unprecedented connection.

Zhu Ming shook her head, her mind growing hazy. Finally, unable to resist the drowsiness, she collapsed, still holding the bow.