Ashley took another route. The underground karst cave system was intricate and complex, so the chances of running into the juvenile delinquents’ cave exploration team were slim.
The tunnel they were advancing through grew narrower and narrower. The final stretch required sidling through, and as she squeezed past the slick walls, Ashley marveled at how soft and flexible her body was. She might even be able to curl up inside a box thirty centimeters long and wide, just like an octopus.
A loli’s build and flexibility theoretically allowed her to slip through passages as narrow as her shoulder width, and without cumbersome breasts getting caught at critical points, it was perfect.
She emerged from the passage, and the view ahead opened up suddenly.
This was a cave shaped like an upside-down bowl, pointed at the top and rounded at the bottom. A pool of deep, clear spring water filled the basin, shimmering with a dark indigo hue. Long stalactites hung down into the water, exuding an otherworldly tranquility isolated from the world.
Unlike the Four Heavenly Kings’ group, who were eager to harvest as much as possible, Ashley’s plan was to take only one item. Steady progress would suffice.
She collected a water sample in a test tube, stored it away, and carefully skirted around the pool to avoid any toxins or deadly pathogens in the water.
This wasn’t baseless caution. She smelled the hydrogen sulfide produced by bacterial secretions—not only toxic, but also indicative of an energy source in the cave.
This wasn’t a lifeless, desolate world. It brimmed with life, and the bacteria and organisms that had evolved independently over long periods of geographic isolation were extremely dangerous. Even an unassuming little bug could be fatal.
Ashley also used a Black Lantern. Though her visual proteins could sense light, they required a light source.
Her Black Lantern and gyroscope were borrowed from Little Black Feet—quite professional gear.
Little Black Feet was busy from dawn to dusk, handling all sorts of jobs: repairing Cadavers, processing biological materials, fixing water pump motors, machining universal car parts…
Little Black Feet had a dream: to expand her little workshop into a top-tier laboratory. On that day, she would don shoe covers and walk on the lab’s dust-free floors, upgrading from Little Black Feet to Little Shoe Covers.
Ashley decided to help make that dream come true—those black feet really wanted to get clean.
After passing through two or three underground cavities, the gyroscope’s needle suddenly trembled, swinging slightly.
This indicated a source emitting supernatural fluctuations in the sector about thirty degrees ahead. From the frequency of the swings, it was twenty to thirty meters away.
Ashley’s heart stirred faintly with excitement. As she drew closer to the target, the sector angle narrowed gradually until the needle pointed straight ahead.
She spotted it immediately. About twenty centimeters in diameter, it was embedded in the cave wall—not deeply buried in the soil.
A large mass covered in pale skin-like sacs, swollen and grotesque, dotted with vibrant, glistening red gelatinous beads.
“This thing… I remember it’s a Numbered Relic. Forgot the exact number,” Ashley muttered.
Supernatural items known as Ancient Relics existed in the strata, said to be biotech used by humans from the First and Second Epochs. They spanned countless categories, including combat, production, medical, construction, and more.
This ancient tech had been lost deep underground, and humans who fled hastily to the surface had to start from scratch. They couldn’t replicate the old tech in a short time, so Ancient Relics held higher technological value than modern equivalents.
Among them, Numbered Relics were the most common—essentially mass-produced items.
For example, unearthing a “Foxconn” warehouse full of relics from the same production batch. One number corresponded to all similar mass-produced relics with the same function.
Non-mass-produced or rare-preservation relics had formal names, graded from S to D with letters—five grades total.
Ashley had done some homework before cave exploration, skimming through a comprehensive catalog of Ancient Relics. Back with her family, she’d studied a ton of related knowledge too.
She didn’t touch it rashly but circled past and continued exploring.
Two hours later, her path ended at a turbulent underground river. Ashley decided to head back.
–
The next day, Ashley took her collected samples to the Blackfoot Workshop for testing and inquired about diving gear to cross the underground river.
“Test the water quality first. If it’s good, I recommend the Aqualung—Numbered Relic 0872. It lets you breathe underwater like a fish. Note that the oxygen in the water won’t sustain prolonged activity. After a while, you’ll enter oxygen deprivation and need to rest or surface,” Veronica explained in detail while working.
“What about poor water quality?” Ashley casually opened a lunch bento and started shoveling it into her mouth.
“C-grade relic ‘Fishskin Peanut’—a full-coverage biomimetic fishskin divesuit that breathes through the skin. Its high-flow steady-state reverse osmosis membrane filters out bacteria, toxins, and heavy metal salts. Over a thousand variants have been found: shark, dolphin, squid, crab… each with different underwater abilities… Hey! Why are you eating my bento?!”
“Because I only paid part of the bill, and I’m feeling unbalanced. Gotta make it up,” Ashley said, stuffing her little mouth full.
“Isn’t paying your bill just common sense?!”
“Thanks for the feast!” Ashley licked her lips.
At those words, the parrot DNA stirred. Sasha hopped around nearby, repeating it several times.
Sasha didn’t like staying cooped up indoors. Ashley usually took it out with her, like walking a dog.
Leaving the Blackfoot Workshop, she checked the trade market for an Aqualung. Prices ranged from 70 to 100 pounds—enough to deter her outright. The other C-grade relic was out of the question; it wasn’t for sale with money. You needed to trade with equivalent relics or supernatural materials, and since it might not be what the seller wanted, it often involved multi-party deals through intermediaries—time-consuming. Usually, you delegated to a middleman.
Fortunately, Ancient Relics could be rented. A few shillings got her an Aqualung.
The underground river’s water sample tested clean, slightly alkaline.
As for the first relic she’d found cave exploring, Ashley checked her references: Numbered Relic 1393, “Permanent Fungus,” variety “Devil’s Tooth.”
Permanent Fungus was a mushroom that could be preserved indefinitely, with many varieties.
Its waxy outer shell encased dormant fungal spores inside. As long as the shell was intact, it stayed preserved forever.
It was food, packed with sugars, proteins, fats, vitamins, and more. The baseball-sized Devil’s Tooth Ashley had seen contained a week’s worth of nutrition for an adult.
In the community, Ashley continued playing the invisible person, secretly observing the delinquents’ cave progress.
The Four Heavenly Kings had men digging in shifts, carving a tunnel leading under an abandoned house outside the community.
Two shovelfuls upward, and the soil collapsed, revealing the dense, smooth rammed earth foundation above. They kept digging until hitting the loose flooring.
Nelson narrowed his eyes, basking in the light of freedom filtering from the hole. His underlings cheered in unison behind him, tears welling up as if receiving a spiritual baptism.
“Eagle King!”
As everyone basked in joy, the second-in-command hurried along the tunnel, face pale with panic.
“What is it?”
“Harold’s missing!”
“Who?” Nelson frowned, unable to recall the name.
“He’s not tight with our gang, but his disappearance will bring the cops sniffing around. They might grill us and uncover the illegal digging. Bamba wants you to come discuss,” the second-in-command said rapidly.
Nelson’s heart sank. He knew these guys’ mettle well. Even if the police weren’t probing the digging, a weak-minded one scared into spilling would leak everything like a sieve.
The Four Heavenly Kings gathered in a basement to strategize.
“Harold’s one of mine.”
The speaker was the last of the Four Heavenly Kings, who controlled the community’s eight public toilets—the “Toilet Mine Head” Bamba.
Don’t underestimate toilets. Bamba’s gang was the richest here.
They regularly organized crews to scrape niter from the toilets, then sold it to tanners. Niter was a key raw material for leather tanning.
The money wasn’t much, but gang members always had pocket change. Three or five could pool for a pack of smokes.
Bamba described the missing man’s appearance, and Nelson remembered. Rubbing his temple, he said, “Oh, that Mohawk kid. Where’d he go? Didn’t bust out, did he?”
“I checked—no exit application records. He didn’t go through the gates,” Bamba said.
“Snuck into the cave and got lost?”
“Impossible. Even with a group, without a gyroscope, it’s futile. He’s my right-hand man, knows the caves. He wouldn’t suicide.”
“If he skips activities, the community will notice soon. What do we do?”
“Um…” Nelson pondered, then grabbed the second-in-command’s hair. “You shave your head.”
“Huh?” The second-in-command was baffled.
“Get a Mohawk, impersonate him, stand in for roll call, join activities.”
