Chapter 66: First Fortress 18

The Wild Dog’s barking caused a huge commotion. The Saint Lord lifted her gaze and asked, “Is there a problem?”

Min He scanned An He from head to toe, her eyes filled with a warning laced with distrust. “Saint Lord, the scent on this person is exactly the same as that of the intruder in Babel Tower.”

Without giving An He time to respond, Min He deliberately tried to cut off her escape route. “The Wild Dog’s sense of smell is absolutely precise. I think this person is highly suspicious.”

Min He raised her head, her gaze toward An He carrying a hint of provocation.

Of course, she was very familiar with this scent. In the short span of twenty-four hours, she had smelled it twice already. But both times, she hadn’t gotten a clear look at the intruder’s face.

After Professor Wen publicly revealed the intruder’s identity, Min He had once believed that this scent belonged solely to Gu Xianqing.

Now, An He carried the exact same aura.

Min He wouldn’t let this opportunity slip away—right when she was about to make her mark, a stranger who outshone her with even greater brilliance and a more powerful Innate Talent had stolen the Saint Lord’s attention. This ignited an even stronger sense of crisis in Min He.

Whether An He was harmful to the First Fortress or not, to Min He personally, she was a threat.

And threats had to be eradicated without mercy.

Min He didn’t care that much about the gaze of those in power. She knew full well that what she was fighting for wasn’t Sekhmet’s favor—it was discourse power.

That meant deciding who set the rules of the game. Some people understood this truth from birth.

“Oh?” Sekhmet let out a low, curt syllable, her oppressive aura faintly swirling around her. This time, the Saint Lord made no effort to hide the suspicion in her eyes.

Immediately after, Min He clicked the safety off her sidearm with a sharp sound and stepped forward to block the Saint Lord. “Just in case of danger, please stay back, Saint Lord.”

Her series of actions and words were seamless, all designed to stoke the Saint Lord’s doubts. Min He didn’t stop the Wild Dog’s snarling—in fact, even when it lunged to attack, she didn’t call it off.

The best outcome would be forcing An He to fight back in self-defense and endanger the Saint Lord. Then, she could label An He an enemy. The Saint Lord was naturally suspicious; once doubt gained the upper hand, An He could never safely enter the First Fortress!

However, the very person Min He was trying so hard to squeeze out—An He—still seemed oblivious to the situation, appearing utterly calm, even casually slipping one hand into her pocket.

Faced with Min He’s accusations, An He merely wrinkled her nose. “Scent?”

She completely ignored the gun barrel pointed at her, lifting her hand to sniff her shoulder and armpit. “Did the red-clothed person leave their scent on me?”

Her tone was light, carrying a relaxed innocence born of ignorance of the world.

Min He’s expression shifted slightly. Her eyes followed An He’s hand—and at the ragged cuff of An He’s coarse hemp sleeve, a beige silk ribbon was caught. It slipped free now as An He raised her arm, though An He hadn’t noticed yet.

—That was Gu Xianqing’s hair ribbon.

Everyone present had seen it, just ten-odd minutes ago, when Gu Xianqing had stood atop a Bone Eater, brazenly waving at them. Her arrogant, presumptuous attitude had left a deep impression on all.

Sekhmet had clearly noticed it too. “Your cuff,” she said simply, pointing it out without excess words.

An He looked down and finally spotted the “extra” item on her clothes. She tugged it off leisurely and held it out toward Min He. “You mean this?”

Her tone was perfectly composed, as if it were something inadvertently snagged during an intimate tussle. Likewise, An He’s clothes were torn and loose, with plenty of missing fabric.

Min He realized her expectations had fallen flat.

That suspicious scent had circled back around—and it was still tied to Gu Xianqing!

She kept her face neutral, but the Wild Dog, stimulated by the smell, lost control and charged forward. Its target: An He.

The corners of An He’s lips curved up ever so slightly. In the blink of an eye, she shifted into combat mode.

The person who had been so relaxed moments ago now stood stock-still, staring down the airborne hound with a starkly different killing intent.

Its snarling maw arrived in an instant, fangs bared and dripping with elongated strands of saliva. An He didn’t even draw her sword. Bare-handed, she clamped down—one hand on the upper jaw, one on the lower—forcing them apart as if to snap its mouth in two.

The dog’s fangs sank into her fingers, flesh denting, but An He didn’t flinch. With a spin, she flipped the airborne Wild Dog, slamming it heavily to the ground.

At the same time, a Raven soared high, ready to assist in the attack.

Min He felt a sharp sting in her mind, unsure if it was from the Wild Dog’s injury or something else.

She could never have guessed that An He had a second Innate Talent—the Mycelium in her palms had already silently burrowed into the Wild Dog’s mouth. Now, it obeyed An He’s commands completely.

An He frowned. “I don’t like dogs.”

She expressed her disgust as bluntly as a child, pinning her retaliation squarely on the dog.

But from start to finish, she hadn’t attacked Min He or the Saint Lord.

An He even released the Wild Dog, depriving Min He of any justification to shoot.

Next, the subdued Wild Dog switched targets, veering to bite at the hair ribbon tangled in An He’s sleeve.

As if that were the true cause of its frenzy.

This completely confirmed the source of the scent.

An He appeared to stare at the Wild Dog, but in truth, everyone’s reactions fell into the eyes of the Raven she had stealthily summoned.

She saw Wen Yewang watching the scene with keen interest, uncharacteristically silent. And Sekhmet’s gaze on her held less suspicion now, replaced by something ambiguous.

An He stayed tense but not panicked.

Every “unintentional” detail had been meticulously planned. She and Gu Xianqing had long anticipated Min He’s Nestsoul and suffered twice because of that dog—they wouldn’t overlook the scent issue.

So, they pinned all the blame on the wanted criminal, Gu Xianqing.

Since she had said to “use it,” they would use it thoroughly.

Still, An He freed up one hand and, just as the Wild Dog’s jaws closed in on the ribbon, snatched it from the dog’s jaws—Gu Xianqing probably wouldn’t want her belonging slobbered on by a dog.

Once she reclaimed it, An He swiftly reined in her killing intent, reverting to her harmless demeanor.

This fluid shift drew repeated glances from Sekhmet.

It was exactly the result An He wanted.

Thanks to Min He’s “supporting performance,” An He had fully showcased the state she most wanted to display: quick to react in crisis, with overwhelming destructive power. At rest, obedient, docile, and utterly non-aggressive.

Like a weapon ready to be wielded.

Gu Xianqing had coached her on this—the state those who sought to control her most desired to see.

Heh, Gu Xianqing knows that all too well.

But An He was never destined to be that person.

She sensed Min He’s hostility toward her. For this enemy, An He’s counterattack was only just beginning.

An He dangled Gu Xianqing’s hair ribbon and asked Min He, “So, did you catch her?”

She remembered well: Min He had returned from chasing Gu Xianqing empty-handed, and the Saint Lord hadn’t gotten around to questioning it yet.

An He’s voice was even, almost innocently naive—but that only amplified the mockery, dealing massive damage.

This time, Sekhmet finally turned her gaze to Min He.

Min He’s face turned ghastly. She had wanted the Saint Lord’s attention, but not this deadly stare. After a brief silence, Min He could only bow her head in apology to Sekhmet. “Saint Lord, this subordinate is incompetent. Gu Xianqing escaped.”

“Escaped?” An He echoed. “I thought you could’ve caught her.”

So she’s not all that capable after all.

In truth, Min He hadn’t even brushed Gu Xianqing’s hem.

A glint of eager anticipation flickered in An He’s eyes. She said amiably, “Next time, take me with you. I’ll help you catch her.”

Help? No way she’d help. An He could catch Gu Xianqing and slap her across the face—could Min He? Min He could only play support.

An He casually fanned the flames. Today, she had come to deeply understand that in the First Fortress, a person’s discourse power hinged solely on strength.

She couldn’t kill openly in the First Fortress, so she had to oust Min He from the power structure.

Min He’s ambitions were unconcealed, so the deadliest blow was to cast doubt on her strength.

This was a lesson from the Lower City folk.

Sekhmet’s gaze returned to An He. “You can catch Gu Xianqing?”

“I will,” An He said. “I was this close just now.”

“You have a grudge against her?”

“Yeah.” An He gave a simple reply. If they really tallied it up, the grudges were plenty: teasing her, restricting her movements, harming her Nestsoul—how wasn’t that deep enmity?

So, Gu Xianqing was her—and the First Fortress’s—”shared enemy.”

Sekhmet fell silent, entering a state of calm. All micro-expressions vanished from her face. In a mere two seconds, she had weighed the situation, though her thoughts remained shrouded like impenetrable fog.

An He didn’t know if today’s plan had succeeded, if Sekhmet had stepped into the trap she had so carefully laid. This unfathomable “beast” prowled the edge of her snare, dipping in one foot—only to withdraw when she thought her scheme had worked.

The outcome remained unknown.

Finally, Sekhmet’s gaze swept over Tina, who had lost her Nestsoul; over Min He, head bowed; and settled on An He.

An He finally heard the answer she wanted.

“Come with me,” Sekhmet issued an indisputable command.

Min He jerked her head up. “Saint Lord, she…”

“Handle your duties.” Sekhmet didn’t spare anyone else a glance, handing District 21 to Min He to wrap up, adding a reminder: “You have four days left.”

An He suppressed a smile at her lips, feigning ignorance. “Where to?”

“Babel Tower, for a mental power test.”

…

Thick glass divided the Test Room into two areas. An He lay on the testing bed while, on the other side of the glass, Sekhmet and Wen Yewang observed her every move.

“You’re sure she’s a Cabin Cocoon?” Sekhmet asked.

“Ninety percent. The remaining ten needs checking,” Wen Yewang replied, eyes gleaming as she gave the high estimate. “But regardless of whether she’s VN319 or not, she perfectly matches the Cabin Cocoon Project’s outcomes.”

“Calm, powerful, easily controlled.” Sekhmet slowly recited the slogan from Wen Yewang’s original proposal. “No matter what this Wasteland becomes, they can find their place and adapt—is that right?”

“Exactly!” Wen Yewang snapped her fingers. “Look, she survived out there all alone.”

“You believe her story?” Sekhmet stared through the glass. Unbeknownst to her, An He—who was being observed—eyed the room’s instruments with open curiosity.

“I do,” Wen Yewang said. “If they’re removed from the sealed cabin too early, they enter a dissociated state, all dazed. Anyone who hasn’t observed the Cabin Cocoon growth process wouldn’t know that! Do you still have doubts?”

Sekhmet didn’t answer directly.

“In any case, her appearance benefits us. Our negotiations with Ide are off—you don’t need to prep the bionic prosthetic anymore.” Sekhmet held the confiscated Holy Sword as she walked away from the glass, her heels thudding dully against the floor. “Besides, I need a warrior unafraid of death to relaunch the assault on the Ninth Fortress.”

“Huh?” Wen Yewang was surprised. “You’re still going to war?”

“Yes, I need resources.” Sekhmet stood beneath the lights, her shadow stretching black behind her. She felt no shame in it—a few sacrifices were negligible. “Our time is short. Today alone, over a dozen Bone Eaters appeared at the Shell Membrane. They’re evolving. It’s a warning.”

“But that’s for later.” Sekhmet’s furrowed brow deepened like a chasm. “Right now, the priority is eliminating Gu Xianqing.”

Gu Xianqing was a sudden bombshell. With the First Fortress’s mental defenses breached, this unknown woman could even preemptively destroy the fortress.

Sekhmet didn’t want to hear news of Gu Xianqing blowing up yet another site.

This ancient city—people thought it impregnable—but only Sekhmet knew there were no eternal sanctuaries. Yellow sands had buried every “indestructible” structure. This place was the same: riddled with vulnerabilities, crises everywhere. They had to seize every chance to survive on this land, by any means, sparing nothing.

On the other side of the glass, an assistant had guided An He onto the bed, affixing metal patches and a testing helmet to her.

Sekhmet turned her head and warned Wen Yewang, “No matter what experiments you want to run on Vivian, hold off for now.”

“Huh?” The fervent spark in Wen Yewang’s eyes extinguished. “Why?”

“I need you to measure her mental stats as quickly as possible and complete the Thought Implantation. In two hours, she’ll be ready to take the field against the enemy.” Sekhmet fixed Wen Yewang with a stern gaze, assuming a superior, condescending posture.

“You’re giving your subordinate plenty of time,” Wen Yewang teased.

Sekhmet ignored her. “If we confirm Vivian’s success can be replicated on the other Cabin Cocoons, you can run your experiments once the Gu Xianqing situation is resolved. I won’t stop you then. Understood?”

“Fine.” Wen Yewang stomped her foot and sighed.

In truth, Wen Yewang saw things differently. Wouldn’t it be more efficient to verify early if An He’s success could be replicated, awakening the other Cabin Cocoons? If new ones succeeded, the First Fortress wouldn’t be crippled by its manpower shortage.

Once Sekhmet left, Wen Yewang lingered by the glass window for a moment.

Her gaze swept over An He’s brows, her face, the sleek muscles of her slender arms. She gained a tangible sense of just how exceptional a Cabin Cocoon result this was.

Such a precious test subject—Wen Yewang couldn’t bear to wait. A fanatic fervor, the kind that only ignited when she spotted Gu Xianqing, blazed to life within her once more.

Madness flickered in Wen Yewang’s eyes. She strode out steadily, donned gloves she didn’t need in the workroom, sterilized her syringe and tools, then pushed open the door to the Observation Room.

Two hours was plenty of time. She’d keep it under control. She wouldn’t kill Vivian.

…

A monitor blinked in the upper right corner of the Observation Room. Its red light flashed twice before going dark, silently cut off.

An He spotted a familiar face approaching outside the door. Wen Yewang set down her items with a sly smile and closely examined An He’s condition.

Moments later, the original researcher was dismissed. Kazama Asagiri entered the observation room.

Two black wings vanished beneath the testing bed.

Kazama Asagiri fitted an oxygen mask over An He’s face. An He genuinely felt bewildered. Back at the Ninth Fortress during my mental power test, they never used an oxygen mask like this.

The machinery here was incredibly precise, the tech leagues beyond the Ninth Fortress. A simple mental power test shouldn’t pose any danger.

An He glanced at the two researchers’ faces. Wen Yewang was desperately suppressing the glee tugging at her lips, making her look exaggeratedly thrilled.

An He wasn’t worried about any flaws in her data—her connection to the Cabin Cocoon ran deep. But this madwoman Wen Yewang didn’t play by the rules. Who knew what she’d do?

An He stayed silent, her gaze sliding over the woman’s temple, carotid artery, and vulnerable abdomen. If my safety’s threatened, where do I strike for the quickest takedown without killing her instantly?

Fortunately, An He saw no anesthetic drugs in Wen Yewang’s hands. She wouldn’t have to repeat the Ninth Fortress fiasco—getting dropped by a massive syringe.

But An He didn’t expect the dizziness to hit so soon.

The dizziness came first, then the sting in her wrist.

It wasn’t the oxygen mask. It was the bed beneath her. The advanced mechanical structure had silently injected sedative into her body without her noticing.

Just sedative? Or mixed with something else? The figures before An He’s eyes were already doubling.

It’s over. They’re experimenting on me! In that instant, An He finally understood Gu Xianqing’s warning wasn’t baseless.

She’d excelled too much—stood out too prominently. The Saint Lord had kept her for her abilities, but this perverted researcher had targeted her for the same reason.

She couldn’t avoid Wen Yewang after all.

Blood draws? Electric shocks? Dissection? Countless possibilities flashed through An He’s mind.

Worse still, this meant she’d lost her bet with Gu Xianqing—lost thoroughly.

An He stayed primed to counterattack, but Wen Yewang proved unusually cautious. She didn’t step closer until the drugs took hold. Only when An He’s taut muscles relaxed, the skin patches began to heat up, and Wen Yewang checked the readings on the light screen—sedative levels rising—did she approach with that sly smile.

Don’t come any closer!!!

An He’s gaze began to scatter, her heavy eyelids battling her straining will. Human resolve crumbled under the onslaught of technology, retreating step by step.

Wen Yewang caught the tension in her eyes and soothed her in the gentle tone of an elder: “Sleep now, good child. You’ll wake up feeling fine.”