Chapter 59: First Fortress

Gu Xianqing had no time to kill Wen Yewang.

The pungent solution masked their scents. They held their breath underwater, An He’s face flushed beet red from the skin irritation and oxygen deprivation.

They clung to each other like lifelines, neither making a sound.

One second, two seconds, a full minute passed… The Wild Dog paced around them, its claws scraping against the concrete floor with rhythmic clack-clack sounds.

When An He could no longer hold her breath and gasped for air, Min He finally led the Wild Dog away, her search fruitless.

“You need to work on your lung capacity,” Gu Xianqing said as she let go. “Otherwise, I’d have to give you mouth-to-mouth, and that would ruin our little bet.”

An He pushed her away, lips pressed thin in wary suspicion.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Gu Xianqing whispered softly. “You know, you look like you’re blushing right now.”

An He was certain she wasn’t blushing. She raised her hand—her exposed skin was an unhealthy crimson, like a boiled shrimp. Gu Xianqing looked the same.

The solution was clearly irritating, harmless in small doses but not something they could linger in.

The shouts around them grew more chaotic. Wen Yewang had realized intruders were inside, dispatching more guards for a blanket search.

An He wasn’t worried about the guards. Many stationed here were ordinary people, and even the Embedded Spirit Bodies weren’t all a threat to her. The trickiest one was Min He.

Thankfully, the solution had perfectly concealed their scents.

They climbed out of the vat one after another. To avoid leaving obvious wet footprints, they stuck to the shadows.

Their hard-soled shoes dried after a dozen steps. They took a long detour and, as planned, slipped into the employee lounge amid the chaos. The noise from outside was muffled now. In the darkened living room, Gu Xianqing circled the doors to the single rest rooms and picked the leftmost one.

An He found a sleeping researcher on the bed in the room.

An ID card lay on the nearby desk, bearing the researcher’s name—Kazama Asagiri. Kazama was the surname, with a blank space in the middle.

An He stood by the bed, pondering for a moment, then pressed her hand to Kazama Asagiri’s forehead.

The woman stirred uncomfortably, on the verge of waking, but pink mycelium had already burrowed into her skin. Kazama Asagiri sank back into deep slumber.

Gu Xianqing seized the moment to activate her Innate Talent, entering Kazama’s dream.

Babel Tower’s Mental Shield Devices were destroyed, leaving Gu Xianqing fully unleashed.

But as she reassembled fragments of Kazama Asagiri’s subconscious, Gu Xianqing’s expression turned peculiar for a split second.

Just then, urgent footsteps echoed outside. They had hurried past the lounge but doubled back to the door after a couple of seconds.

Gu Xianqing grabbed An He by the collar, and they squeezed together into the adjacent storage cabinet.

A few long lab coats hung inside. They hid face-to-face behind the clothes. The cramped space forced them into full contact, their still-damp garments rubbing together like a spark, sending a jolt of electric numbness racing through their nerves.

Gu Xianqing showed no reservations about it, but An He recoiled from the sensation, leaning back hard against the rear cabinet wall.

The lounge door creaked open as someone entered.

After failing to rouse the researcher, the intruder methodically checked under each bed, behind curtains, and inside cabinets.

The cabinet door where An He hid cracked open slightly. The searcher glanced inside hastily but somehow missed them lurking in the shadows.

Everyone was rushing about, some shouting loudly. Apart from Professor Wen’s verbal description, the guards had no idea what the intruders looked like or how many there were. They even wondered if it was all a mistake.

How else could no one be found anywhere?

The entire tower went into lockdown, descending into frenzied pursuit. No one knew the two targets were hiding in a dark corner, their breaths mingling.

An He felt the suffocating tightness of the space and the feverish heat radiating from their bodies. She tried to pull away, but Gu Xianqing gripped her wrist and yanked her back. Gu Xianqing shut the cabinet door and whispered, “How long can your Parasite Innate Talent hold up?”

Her breath washed over An He’s cheek, making her ear itch. In the darkness, An He’s senses sharpened unbearably—she could even make out the contours of Gu Xianqing’s body. Something secretive and dangerous brewed between them, yet their conversation stayed utterly serious.

“You mean the one outside?” An He struggled to keep her voice steady. “Sleeping targets are easier to control. Two hours at most.”

“Good,” Gu Xianqing said with a relieved smile.

An He didn’t get it. In the pitch-black confines, they couldn’t see each other’s faces—sight stripped away, touch and hearing magnified endlessly. She could only guess at Gu Xianqing’s reactions.

Gu Xianqing was utterly relaxed, pressing against An He without restraint. The clarity of her weight and warmth dispelled the chill from their soaked clothes.

An He couldn’t hear Gu Xianqing’s heartbeat—only her own, pounding harder from the tension, fearing a betrayal.

Gu Xianqing won’t hurt me, An He concluded from past experience. Not now, at least—their fates were tied together.

But this vague intimacy unnerved her intensely. She stayed hyper-vigilant to Gu Xianqing’s every move, each tiny shift rippling across her skin like waves.

“Shouldn’t… we get out?” An He frowned.

Gu Xianqing sensed the wariness in her tone and smoothed the crease on her brow with a thumb. “Why leave? This is perfect. We wait an hour.”

Her touch carried an unstoppable fondness—she loved stroking An He’s cheek—but whether it was genuine or feigned, no one could tell.

An He turned her face away, dodging the boundary-less contact.

“Why?” An He asked.

“Until ten o’clock. This Kazama woman will head to her assigned Research Lab for observation. I figured you’d be interested. Plus, moving then is safer than now.”

An He got it. Gu Xianqing had chosen Kazama Asagiri on purpose.

More hurried footsteps— they fell silent.

From start to finish, An He felt the undercurrent of antagonism between them. Face-to-face, they’d stand like this for an hour. Gu Xianqing’s plan was riskier than just escaping.

They had to stay alert to their surroundings—and to each other. One misstep, and they’d both plummet into abyss.

An He even considered slapping her back right then—a golden opportunity.

She tilted her head up slightly, sensing Gu Xianqing watching her too. What is she thinking? Planning to drive her Wrist Blade into my side?

Their waists pressed together through damp fabric, the moisture steaming away.

Something perilous fermented, a current from spine to scalp sucking the air from the cabinet. They expanded their lungs as much as possible in another silent contest, vying for more oxygen.

Elbows, shoulders, even breaths clashed. Bodies drew closer, pulled by mutual heat. Yet their minds stayed razor-sharp, wary, suppressing the urge to strike.

Half an hour later, An He lifted the hand hanging at her side.

That tiny motion made Gu Xianqing tense, a slight tremor running through her.

“Are you afraid of me?” An He smiled, savoring the small victory.

Gu Xianqing pinned An He’s wrist against the cabinet wall at once. “That depends—I felt killing intent. I’m sensitive to danger.”

She pressed her forehead to An He’s. “Want to hit me, little lamb? We’re cooperating. Don’t do anything rash.”

“No, I just want to get closer to you.” An He mimicked Gu Xianqing’s false flirtation. Lies like that required no real emotion—easy to spit out.

Is this her trick for endless teasing?

Anger at being played warred with glee at learning the technique.

Their scuffle dislodged a hanging lab coat, which swayed precariously. They froze. Foreheads touching, lips nearly brushing in an intimate pose.

But no—lips hovered untouched, then parted.

Surprisingly, Gu Xianqing backed off first.

An He seized the chance, breaking free and pulling down the lab coat.

“No more sounds,” she said.

They listened. The chaotic footsteps had stopped, replaced by orderly patrols. In the outer room, only Kazama Asagiri’s sleeping breaths remained.

Time up, An He slipped out. She controlled Kazama Asagiri’s limbs, making her stand and move like a puppet—her mind still asleep, actions dreamlike. With Gu Xianqing’s help, Kazama wouldn’t remember a thing upon waking.

Earlier, An He had killed the youth using the Mental Shield Device, so Gu Xianqing now wielded her Innate Talent freely. Like looting spoils, she’d invaded several dreams in quick succession, rifling through minds for useful snippets as easily as flipping pages.

An He realized then: Gu Xianqing could enter dreams without sleeping herself.

That subtle edge meant everything—she needn’t fear ambushes mid-use or hunt for safe spots to activate it.

Soon, Gu Xianqing extracted surveillance locations from a researcher’s subconscious.

Their teamwork was seamless. Identity exposed? They didn’t flee—instead, they grew bolder, stacking more advantages.

They donned lab coats, dodging hallway cameras and guards, heading to the nearby elevator. The Raven had already blocked the cab’s camera. The recording drives were trashed anyway; many feeds had gone dark.

ID card, fingerprints, biometrics—one by one. An He pried open Kazama Asagiri’s eyelids, scanning her iris.

Identity verified. The display showed numbered options—An He learned specific researchers were restricted to certain floors.

Among them, one button stood out: no number, just “X”.

An He glanced at Gu Xianqing, who nodded toward it.

The elevator hummed to life. An He felt it plummeting downward, accelerating fast.

Floor 17 was low in Babel Tower—should reach ground level soon. But they rode far longer.

An He watched numbers count down to “1,” then blank out. Still falling.

Underground.

The cable’s whine echoed. A damp, earthen scent seeped through the cracks, jacking An He’s heart rate. In the weightlessness, unease surged.

Something pulsed in sync with her heartbeat.

Soon, the doors slid open.