Warm blood sprayed onto Evelyn Fordâs clothes and mask. She pulled out her combat knife, then plunged it into the manâs chest again, twisting it viciously. Only when he stopped breathing entirely did Evelyn let out a sigh of relief.
"Ronan, are you okay?"
Ronan Kendrick nodded. "Iâm fine."
Ronan stared at the dead man on the ground for several seconds. "I remember him. He was from the same batch of test subjects as me. Later, he was classified as a failure. I never saw him again." His voice was soft. He then pulled Evelyn to her feet.
"Letâs go. There might be others who arenât in hibernation."
"Okay."
Evelyn Ford stored the dead body in her space. The two left the lab. Ronan Kendrick continued to search for traces of the other failed subjects while Evelyn followed behind, collecting supplies.
There were over two thousand bandits on the mountain. Evelyn couldnât possibly kill them all, but she had to teach them a lesson.
Ronan took care of two more failed subjects who suddenly rushed out. The pair left the building and began searching for weapons.
Besides dealing with the failed subjects and destroying the lab, the ultimate goal of this trip was their weapons. Without them, the bandits would be like men with their arms cut off. Besides, Evelyn really wanted to get her hands on the Gatling guns and explosives.
"The numbers are off. Weâve only taken care of eighteen failed subjects tonight," Ronan said, his brow furrowed.
"Maybe the remaining ones are hiding elsewhere, like that bearded guy, playing king in some county. We shouldnât get bogged down. Letâs grab the weapons and leave immediately." Evelyn patted Ronanâs arm.
"Alright. Weapons first. Hereâs a topographical map. Where do you think theyâd keep them?" Ronan pulled out a map he had found while searching for the failed subjects.
"In the armory. Places like that are usually heavily guarded."
Looking at the map, Evelyn couldnât help but marvel at the complexity of the bandit lair. "The buildings in this den are laid out strangely, like a maze."
"Itâs like a strategic formation. After you showed me those books on architecture, I realized that many cities incorporate feng shui when they build. When planning a city, they often lay it out in a formation. Besides warding off bad luck and attracting good fortune, the most important point is to facilitate defense and attack." Ronan and Evelyn took a pen and circled several spots on the map.
"Look at these spots. Based on the terrain, wind direction, and airflow, their locations are the safest. Even if an earthquake suddenly hit, these few buildings wouldnât collapse. So the weapons must be in one of these places."
Ronan put the map away, then pulled Evelyn along as they headed directly for the center of the bandit camp.
Evelyn threw out thirty odorless knockout gas pellets. In an instant, the entire bandit den was shrouded in smoke.
When they reached the central point, Evelyn discovered only a cafeteria. It was two stories tall, and the main doors were locked tight, but it was easy to climb in. Ronan removed a window, and the two immediately entered the first-floor dining hall.
"You suspect the weapons are in the cafeteria?"
Ronan nodded. "The cafeteria is an easy place to overlook. Most people searching for something would skip right past it."
Evelyn raised an eyebrow. âThat makes sense.â
Taking out another pair of night-vision goggles, Evelyn began to search every inch of the place. The cafeteria was reasonably clean, with all its tables and chairs intact. Evelyn went into the staff-only back area, but aside from pots, pans, bowls, and basins, there was nothing else.
"Evelyn, over here."
Ronan moved a cupboard aside, revealing an iron door set into the wall. Evelyn took out her tools and started to open it. The first door came open, only to reveal another one behind it.
After dismantling a total of three doors, the two finally entered a hidden chamber. A long, narrow tunnel stretched before them, completely dark. They slowly made their way inside. After walking for about three minutes, another iron door blocked their path.
Just then, Ronan suddenly turned back and gave Evelyn a slight shake of his head.
Evelyn drew her combat knife and gave Ronan a small nod.
Kicking open the iron door, both of them were somewhat surprised by the scene inside. Locked within were five "people" who were barely human. With disheveled hair, they were slumped inside iron cages. When they heard the noise, they lifted their heads to look at the doorway.
They, too, were clearly stunned. Then they began to struggle violently, screaming and shouting, trying to break out of the cages. But with their limbs bound by iron chains, they couldnât possibly break free.
"Who are you?" a hoarse voice came from a cage in the corner. Evelyn looked over. A long-haired man whose face was obscured was sitting there.
A foul stench wafted from the cages, the smell was overpowering.
"And who are you?" Evelyn asked in return.
The man pushed his hair aside and looked up at Evelyn and Ronan. Seeing his different-colored eyes, Evelyn was a little surprised.
"Are you a test subject too? I can smell the scent of blood on you, same as mine. Who are you? Whatâs your number?"
He looked at Ronan and suddenly became agitated, gripping the bars of the cage with both hands. His eyes blazed with fury, as if he wanted to tear his way out.
"Tell me who you are." His voice was sharp, frightening the others into cowering and trembling in their cages.
Ronan just watched him quietly before stating his number.
"I am Eighteen."
The man froze for a moment, then burst into manic laughter.
"So itâs you. I remember you. The labâs most perfect success."
He laughed for a while, then suddenly fell to his knees and began kowtowing to Ronan repeatedly.
"Please, kill me. Just kill me. Let me die. Give me release."
The others began to plead as well. Some wanted to break free from their cages, while others wanted the release of death.
"Why are you locked up here?"
"Weâre failures. Failures canât live for long. Without the nutrient solution, we age rapidly, and every night we have to endure the agony of our bodies being torn apart and rebuilt. They wanted to build a lab, to use the blood of ordinary people to maintain their looks and abilities. But ordinary blood can only preserve their appearance; their various powers still weaken or even disappear.
"Later, they poisoned us and locked us up here. They started using our blood to maintain their powers. There were more than sixty of us at the beginning. Now, only five of us are left."
A weak womanâs voice came from the adjacent cage.
Evelyn turned to look at the woman. She looked to be in her fifties or sixties, with graying hair, wrinkled skin, and sluggish movements.
"Whatâs the deal with the mutated bodies in the lab outside?"
"Mutated bodies? I donât know. They locked us in here to draw our blood and torture us. Every day, someone comes to feed us drugs that sap our strength but keep us barely alive. I donât even know how long Iâve been here. I want out. Please, let me out. I want revenge. I want to kill them."
The woman grew agitated. She struggled to get up, only to collapse weakly.
âThe blood of the failed subjects didnât have much of an effect. The labâs mutated bodies werenât very successful.â
âIn any case, Ronan has already killed them all.â Evelyn didnât dwell on it.
"Let me out, let me out..."
Ronan looked at the man in the corner. "Is what she said all true?"
The man nodded, then shook his head. "Taking our blood was part of the reason. The other part was about power."