Doomsday Wonderland

When Ye De realized there were several ordinary people sleeping in the corridor ahead, it was already too late.

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Perhaps it was because he was never meant to be a posthuman, forcibly evolved into one, that his physical strength, speed, and combat ability were all mediocre. After just two or three minutes of fleeing, his steps were uncontrollably heavy, dragging along the ground. No matter how much his chest expanded and contracted, he couldn't draw in enough air.

The person chasing him was different.

That man was born for the arena, a predator far superior and faster than him. Ye De couldn't even say how he had escaped the initial attack. The price of barely getting away was a heavy blow to the back of his head.

Fortunately, Ye De couldn't see the wound on his own head; he suspected that if he raised a hand to feel it, he would faint from the sheer horror of it.

Since then, the attacks from behind had become increasingly vicious and inescapable. The man was so fast that he had even gotten ahead of Ye De a few times, cutting off his escape. In those split seconds between life and death, the only thing Ye De saw clearly was that the pursuer appeared to be male. If it weren't for his intimate knowledge of Chimeric City—knowing where he could divert his pursuer, where he could slip away, and which pathways couldn't bear his weight—he wouldn't have survived this long.

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It might have been easier just to give up, to let the man grant him a swift death. But something, something he couldn't name, kept him running, forcing him forward. That nameless pain was worse than the pursuer behind him.

In the dim light, someone smacked their lips and rolled over.

The voice Ye De had always been so proud of had abandoned him; he thought he was roaring, but what came out was a hoarse, rasping whisper. Was his throat injured? He couldn't even tell anymore. Were there any parts of him left unscathed?

It was too late; he didn't have a chance to shout again. Ye De was already so close that he could make out a face resting on a sack.

Even if these people got up now and ran, it wouldn't be fast enough.

If he dashed through the ordinary people, the attack from behind would undoubtedly slice through them. After being chased for so long, Ye De knew his pursuer's attack style well. When he heard the thin, blade-like whistling sound behind him again, he knew the people on the ground wouldn't escape.

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Unless he stopped, offering his back to the inevitable blooming of a massive, bloody wound.

But he was so close to his destination. To stop now—Ye De couldn't bear the thought. If he just had ten more seconds, no, even five seconds, but the people in the corridor—

Ye De suddenly halted, and the air rang with a sharp, metallic clash.

Immediately following that, the nerve-rattling sound of grinding metal shattered the silence of the dark corridor. The people on the ground woke up one after another, scrambling to their feet amid the sudden, thick scent of blood. Confused and terrified, some backed away and fled, while others recognized the figure standing straight in the darkness.

"Eight-Heads De!" a woman shouted, and the sound made Ye De tremble all over, nearly collapsing.

"Run."

While his "head" was still intact, he sent his voice to her ear and to the ears of the other ordinary people ahead, "Don't go left... ahead."

When Ye De felt his evolved ability being destroyed by a stronger evolved ability, he finally understood what that felt like. From the corner of his eye, he saw white sparks and near-black blood spraying through the dim corridor. His "head," his message-receiving node, the painstakingly refined silver orb, was now being used as a shield, rapidly shredded by the pursuer's attack, scattering into brilliant white sparks.

Even so, it could barely protect his vital organs. The rest of his skin and flesh were left exposed to countless thin blades. He would rather have his bones laid bare to be sliced than endure this.

Since one orb was already destroyed, he might as well destroy it completely. Gritting his teeth, he used his message-receiving orb to barely withstand the assault behind him, even pushing the thin blades back slightly.

Through his blurred vision, he saw the backs of ordinary people fleeing ahead. None of them took the fork to the left. To the pursuer behind him, it must look like there wasn't a fork at all. ꞦáNȯＢÊȿ

This assumption was quickly confirmed. When Ye De half-stumbled, half-rolled into the left fork, the pursuer missed his mark, rushing past him. A moment later, the screech of halting footsteps came from up ahead.

The pursuer would be coming into the fork any second now. Ye De had only a fraction of a second left.

He fell to the ground and didn't bother trying to stand. Instead, he kicked off the floor, rolling along the empty corridor. The wounds on his back stretched and tore open, making him think he might pass out from the pain.

He rolled until he reached a chair, where the pursuer finally caught up. He extended his arm to stop himself, but there was no time to get up and dodge. The pursuer lunged for him, the rush of air stinging his skin. But to his surprise, the grasp missed.

Ye De, near collapse and trembling, lay face-down on the ground with his eyes tightly shut, waiting for the next attack. Seconds passed in eerie silence.

He slowly opened his eyes and realized the corridor was now empty, leaving him alone.

"Wha... what..." he croaked, "Lin Sanjiu? Is that you?"

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The corridor offered no response.

His silver orb had been mostly destroyed, rendered useless. The remaining six orbs were scattered elsewhere, unreachable for now. He couldn't send a message to ask Lin Sanjiu what was happening. He just knew that when he reached Dreadlocks' watch post, he couldn't go any further. He sat dazed in the empty corridor, his mind flickering between clarity and confusion.

What Ye De didn't know was that Lin Sanjiu was standing just a few steps away in a different subspace.

Dreadlocks pressed his back against the wall, keeping his distance from her. The man who had been chasing Ye De was now pinned to the ground by Lin Sanjiu, her Higher Consciousness wrapped tightly around his neck. The man's skills were so underwhelming, she barely needed effort to subdue him.

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"It really was you," she said, yanking off the man's hood. Her eyes landed on the beard-covered face without much surprise. "Looks like you got the message early and knew you were exposed, huh?"

Hagrid, who still appeared perfectly ordinary, gasped and choked under the pressure. "Wh-what..."

"Which part confuses you?" Lin Sanjiu asked, her tone as casual as if they were chatting over breakfast. "How you were exposed? Or how Eight-Heads De avoided your spatial trap, while you, standing behind him, fell right into it?"

Hagrid couldn't answer. Lin Sanjiu had no intention of explaining it to him.

"Don't worry, when everyone gets here," she said leisurely, "you'll find out soon enough. So, have you called Zhong Qing over yet?"

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