Chapter 68: First Fortress 20

Gunfire exploded beside her ear, and Gu Xianqing severed her connection to the dream.

She quickly pulled down her hat brim, propped herself against the table, and spun into the air, kicking away a Patrol Squad member who tried to sneak attack while she was dazed. The man crashed into the cabinet, then tumbled down, his neck twisting as he passed out.

Behind him, the cabinet door had already been licked by flames, the glass shattered, and the stored guns and glass shards scattered with a clatter.

This was a Patrol Squad underground outpost in the Lower City. While Gu Xianqing had linked into the dream, she was also pulling off a robbery.

The bloody taste on her lips from where An He had bitten her seemed to linger. Gu Xianqing lifted the back of her hand to rub the corner of her mouth. The sensation of skin touching skin made her vision blur again. She lowered her head and saw no blood on her hand.

Of course. Wounds in the dream were fake—they couldn’t be brought into reality.

The scene was fake. The emotions were fake. Gu Xianqing, who knew this all too well, had a flicker in her eyes.

But the experience was real.

She lowered her hand and lightly curled her lips—not a bad experience.

The tables and chairs in the underground outpost were a chaotic mess. Most of the Patrol Squad had gone out chasing Gu Xianqing, leaving only one on guard—and now, that one was gone.

Beside Gu Xianqing, the real Vivian looked up quietly at her.

Seeing the smile on Gu Xianqing’s lips, the little girl’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Feeling better now?”

Gu Xianqing only then remembered there was someone else with her. On this outing, she’d brought An He’s troublesome but useful “sister.” Gu Xianqing lowered her gaze to glance at Vivian. “What?”

“You were just… frowning, in a bad mood,” Vivian said. “But after you spaced out, you smiled.”

Half a minute ago, Gu Xianqing had grabbed Vivian by the collar, leaping across rooftops, kicking down doors, and firing guns, her anger radiating outward and making Vivian shrink back.

But after a moment of distraction, this fierce-looking big sister had smiled again over some good news.

Couldn’t figure it out—adults’ emotions seemed so complicated.

“I wasn’t spacing out. Don’t observe so closely,” Gu Xianqing said, patting Vivian’s back. “Alright, signal Lan Ming and the others to come over. You, stick with me.”

The Scavenger team had their own communication methods. Vivian had left markers along the way. It wouldn’t be long before Lan Ming’s group arrived, unleashing their super scavenging skills—stripping the outpost of every weapon, table, tea on the tables, and compressed biscuits.

They’d already robbed two outposts.

Since they’d formed a gang, it was time to do gang things.

Gu Xianqing wouldn’t let them idle.

“Where are we going?” Vivian asked.

“To kill for me.” Gu Xianqing’s tone was low, not sounding like a joke.

Vivian didn’t react much to the idea of killing. On things where others would have emotions, the girl stayed silent, simply following Gu Xianqing out through the broken doorframe.

But Vivian wasn’t as nimble as Gu Xianqing. As she climbed over the threshold, a splinter on the wooden door snagged her leg, piercing the skin.

Vivian thought, with Gu Xianqing’s straightforward personality, she’d probably get scolded. But Gu Xianqing just grabbed the back of her collar. “Stand steady.”

Gu Xianqing even laughed. “You really are just like her at the start—lazy with all four limbs, weak as hell.”

“Who?”

“Your sister.” Gu Xianqing glanced at Vivian’s neck, where the Raven pendant hung back in place.

“Where did she go?” Vivian asked.

“She…” Gu Xianqing thought of An He’s recent dream and wasn’t sure how to describe the current situation.

An He’s dream this time had nothing to do with Gu Xianqing. The scene had already formed before she arrived; she’d barely torn open a crack to enter.

She’d observed carefully—those vines and the eerie nursery rhymes were suspicious. Only polluted dreams presented such bizarre scenes.

The situation wasn’t optimistic. Gu Xianqing really didn’t want An He facing this “pollution” again. But damn Wen Yewang had made it all happen.

Once the pollution concentration rose, no one could help An He.

Only An He could save herself.

“She ran into some trouble,” Gu Xianqing said helplessly. “Let’s wish her luck.”

…

Big trouble.

An He climbed up from the ground, the weightlessness finally gone. By her senses, she’d fallen for minutes from no small height, yet her body had no injuries at all.

She seemed back on the Wasteland, surrounded by spreading Black Fog. Except where she stood, the distant fog had thickened into a solid entity—a wall pressing in.

This radiation phenomenon was even worse than on the Wasteland.

Where was this?

Real? Or a dream?

An He turned her head and vaguely spotted a silver-gray shadow in the Black Fog. It looked like a High Tower piercing the sky, but its tip was broken, half collapsed.

As the fog drifted, more building clusters emerged, looking incredibly familiar.

An He realized with a jolt—it was the First Fortress!

The First Fortress, shrouded in thick fog, seemed eroded by wind and frost into a ruined, icy tomb. Countless Black Vines entwined it, the buildings completely destroyed.

The High Tower stood like a neglected tombstone, without epitaph or body.

The bodies had all become parts of monsters. Bone Eaters roamed through, reveling.

An He’s face changed instantly, her tension so tight she couldn’t even swallow.

She suddenly realized the world held only her.

She understood—this wasn’t a dream woven by Gu Xianqing.

The vines, the scent of death, the faint pulsing throb—they’d existed before Gu Xianqing appeared.

Something had invaded and controlled her!

Suddenly, drifting particles in the distance came alive, surging in one direction amid a few never-before-seen red Bone Eaters, sweeping rapidly toward An He.

An He instinctively reached for her waist but found no weapons on her.

Damn it—her weapons had been confiscated before entering the dream.

An He turned and bolted!

The scene ahead was shrouded in darkness, impossible to see clearly. Only the ground her toes touched lit up faintly.

First step: rotten clothing appeared at her feet.

Next step: An He stepped on a rusty knife, its blade crusted with blackened, purple blood.

Then she kicked several bones torn by Bone Eaters—shapeless now, but countless hand bones still clasped tightly, like life’s final comfort.

Bones.

Bones.

More and more shattered bones littered the bluestone slabs.

Sometimes a human phalange, sometimes a rotted beast tooth beyond recognition. Life brutally erased, only death remaining completely.

An He’s breath hitched, her steps slowing.

But the Black Fog behind didn’t stop.

Finally, An He spotted a woman in the fog.

The woman sat amid a sudden ruined wall, upper body against a broken stele, as if resting.

But she made no movement.

An He approached step by step, breath quickening, panic peaking in an instant.

She knew her.

It was Asta.

How? Here?

Asta’s eyes were closed, half her body buried in the stone wall, fog-condensed vines tightly binding her. She looked weathered, aged, as if the yellow sands had stolen years of her life.

She was dead.

An He knew it was an illusion, yet felt profound absurdity and grief. She forced herself not to notice, looked away—and saw two more bodies on the other side.

Su Ling and Ide lay face-up, still clutching long guns, unknown black spikes piercing from within.

Silent as well.

An He’s throat tightened like it was gripped, legs heavy as lead. Each step revealed another comrade-in-arms as a corpse.

Lola, Heidi, Lady Heli, and Lan Ming.

Countless acquaintances met their ends in different scenes. They’d seemed to resist something, faces etched with fury and reluctance, marching resolutely to death.

Only An He lived.

Why?

An He stopped running.

She saw Gu Xianqing, whom she’d just faced, smiling as she lay on the bluestone, breath stopped, looking serene—as if she’d always been there.

The encroaching Black Fog behind seemed irrelevant. An He heard only her own frantic heartbeat, soul-rending sorrow tearing at her, making even breathing hard.

The oppressive gray darkness assaulted fully in this moment.

What? Trying to shatter her mental defenses, wound her sanity?

This ruthless nightmare was far crueler than Gu Xianqing’s.

An He didn’t want to, but under the unknown pressure, she nearly knelt to sob. She shouldn’t feel such intense emotion, yet now it seemed she shared profound bonds with everyone here.

Whatever had invaded her mind had successfully broken her defenses.

It’s fake.

An He steadied herself with her remaining reason, repeating to herself.

It’s fake.

“It’s real,” someone spoke, murmurs echoing, achingly familiar.

An He looked up—it was Gu Xianqing’s voice.

But not her usual seductive tone. The voice hid in boundless darkness, flat and emotionless.

“This is the future.”

“The future? Everyone dies?” An He retorted.

“What you see is the future.”

“Why show me this?” An He’s remaining reason ignited anger. “To destroy my mind? Or warn me?”

“Both.” The voice was utterly flat.

Another lunatic from nowhere? Not like Gu Xianqing—she wasn’t this deranged. The monotone didn’t match Wen Yewang’s style either. An He couldn’t tell who it was.

As she clutched her chest to ease the pounding grief, the voice spoke again.

“The taste of despair isn’t pleasant,” it said. “But I can show you a way out. Escaping suffering is easy.”

A way out? Offering solutions in pain was tempting.

An He got it—this deal-making, rosy-picture-painting attitude. She’d experienced it.

She didn’t answer, glancing down at Gu Xianqing’s body. Sure enough, tiny Yellow Spores danced there. Not just here—amid the thick fog everywhere, finer-than-dust particles frolicked, as if celebrating life’s end and death’s birth.

An He’s eye muscles twitched. She’d seen this before.

Fungal pollution spores.

The so-called “God.”

As expected, filth had invaded her consciousness.

What? Last time’s beating wasn’t enough—now revenge?

Wen Yewang, that fanatic, where’d she get this filth!

An He took a deep breath, looked up. “Fine. What way out?”

“Submit to me. Follow me. Worship me.”

Why did everyone want her submission? Was she some hot commodity? Were they insane!

An He suppressed her disgust, resisting the pain inflicted on her mind. Since it was pollution, no need to grieve. She gazed calmly at Gu Xianqing’s face, rapidly analyzing.

The “God” always wanted her worship. How? Total surrender to control? It hadn’t specified, and An He wouldn’t agree.

But touching these Yellow Spores always polluted her mind without warning. She had no resistance.

An He noticed this “God” seemed more cautious than last time—probably afraid of a beating, no entity form.

It watched her, probed her, no longer using An He’s own image to strike defenses—instead leveraging her connections.

Getting smarter.

Damn.

What about Vivian, her “sister”? Had the “God” located and captured her? Was she in danger?

An He gritted her teeth. She had originally thought her current abilities were enough to protect herself. But those corpses served as a grim reminder—it still wasn’t enough. She didn’t yet have the power to protect the others.

Would all these people walk toward death in the future? Would everyone turn into Withered Bones?

Ha, so Gu Xianqing hadn’t lied to her after all.

An He desperately reined in her killing urge.

She latched onto the word “future” that the God had used. Who could foresee the future? Who could define it? Could the God?

Soldiers traded trust for loyalty. If the “God” wanted her to follow, then it would have to offer something in return.

An He obediently tilted her head back, a look of resignation in her eyes. “You want me to follow you wholeheartedly? Fine. But I have one request.”

“What?”

“You said my Innate Talent has no limit.” An He stretched out her hand, palm facing up. “Then let me see it.”