“… By the way, Miss Nameless, Mr. Cromwell, how did your execution operation go upstairs?” After a moment, remembering earlier events, Donnell could no longer contain his curiosity and asked.
Earlier, the people outside, the slavers, had been restless, seemingly receiving orders; many of the underlings downstairs had rushed up to support, causing the victims hiding on this floor to anxiously sweat for the two above.
Due to the significant height difference and their fear of being discovered, they hadn’t dared to go out, thus they were left in the dark about what had happened. They hadn’t even seen the cyborg jump; they could only occasionally hear heavy thuds outside, guessing that something heavy, like a refrigerator, had fallen.
Now seeing the two return unscathed suggested that things had gone smoothly?
“It’s all taken care of,” Yvette succinctly replied as she continued descending.
With no details provided, everyone’s attention turned back to Cromwell, expecting him to give some insight into the situation.
Cromwell paused for a moment and shrugged toward the group of victims, a look of inability to disclose anything on his face.
In truth, it wasn’t that he was unable to explain; it was just that the situation was too bizarre for him to articulate succinctly.
The crowd visibly displayed disappointment and frustration.
Noticing their expressions, Cromwell felt this wasn’t right, so he spoke in a complex tone, “In short, it was very abnormal.”“Abnormal?” Donnell asked in confusion.
“Yeah, it was abnormal,” Cromwell said, providing no further explanation as he hastily followed behind Miss Nameless.
Donnell, Reese, and the other victims were at a loss for words, wondering why he couldn’t just articulate what he meant. What did it mean that it was “very abnormal”? Just how abnormal could it be?
A riddle wrapped in a mystery!
…
Stepping out from the shadow of the building’s lower level, the cold but liberating night wind rushed against them, while the lights along the roadside pierced through the darkness, illuminating the chaos on the ground.
Although they were still within the wire-fenced confines of the industrial park, the open environment and the wind sweeping away the bloodshed somewhat alleviated the anxiety pressing on the chests of the eighteen survivors, granting them a slight sense of dizziness as they beheld the light once more.
At that moment, Donnell’s girlfriend suddenly exclaimed, “Huh!” She grabbed Donnell’s arm, pointing at a shadow on the edge of the light, panic evident in her voice. “What… what is that… thing?”
Everyone followed her pointing finger and saw a grotesque mass of twisted organic matter merged with metallic fragments. They could barely identify broken, robust mechanical arms, wire sockets, and cybernetic eye components, while the biological portions oozed bright red blood onto the ground, creating a particularly eerie scene.
“Could this be the heavy object that fell from up top?” Reese guessed.
Upon hearing this, except for Cromwell, the other 17 victims curiously approached. However, when they got a better look, their faces changed, and they recoiled in horror.
This was actually a twisted, deformed cyborg that had been smashed into a meaty pancake!
How did he end up dead here?
Had he been discarded after death? Was that why the body was in such a grotesque condition?
People finally began to piece things together and inferred that Cromwell’s description of “abnormal” likely referred to this incident. They couldn’t help but marvel, thinking how could the seemingly cool and delicate Miss Nameless possess such a brutal and fierce fighting style? What a stark contrast!
However, was it really appropriate to describe it as “abnormal”?
Cromwell shook his head at the group once more, revealing an even more enigmatic expression as he said, “No… you still don’t understand.”
“Mr. Cromwell, what exactly do you mean?” Donnell’s fists clenched.
Cromwell took his time to speak, “What if I said that Miss Nameless didn’t throw him down but that this person was so frightened by her power that he jumped out of the window and fell to his death?”
The other seventeen survivors fell silent, their shock far exceeding their previous reactions. If that were truly the case, then it was indeed very abnormal.
…
Traversing the desolate path and the whispering wild grasslands stirred by the night wind, another “industrial park” emerged in the twilight ahead.
Standing in the shadows, Yvette gazed at the new facility. The outline of its buildings was similar to the destroyed hideout, though somewhat smaller. High-intensity searchlights ruthlessly sliced through the darkness, illuminating the park inside, with a gigantic “X-ray Security” company logo glaringly reflected on the surrounding walls.
Then, she instructed the eighteen rescued victims to temporarily conceal themselves in the sparse woods outside the park, while she quietly passed through the open iron gate and stepped inside.
Within the park, all the lights were on, bright white illumination pouring from each open window, driving away the darkness in every corner.
The monitoring room’s screen wall was dark, and the recording storage modules had mysteriously vanished, taken by someone. Several coffee machines still exuded faint warmth and lingering coffee aromas. Defense turrets sat stoically at their positions, with their barrels lowered, the power indicator lights showing standby mode.
Strangely, there wasn’t a single person in sight.
Chairs in the security booth lay toppled, half-drunk cups of coffee sat on the corner of tables, and water bottles were spilled all over the floor. Scattered around were empty shell casings, pieces of documents, and even a worn leather glove.
Furrowing her brows, Yvette checked around but found nothing amiss and silently moved into the main building.
The corridor was likewise empty, with locks securing each holding cell, inside which were frail, emaciated faces.
Yvette methodically opened the cell doors, using the keys she had picked up to unlock the handcuffs, instructing the liberated individuals to gather joyfully in the central square of the building.
Ten minutes later, after confirming that all 13 victims had been freed, Yvette descended the stairs and looked at everyone, asking, “Do you know what happened here? Why are all the slavers missing?”
Several victims shook their heads in confusion. Since it was late at night, they had all already been asleep when events began unfolding.
Just as Yvette began to feel disappointed, a figure slowly emerged from the crowd. It was a young man with a pale face, trembling uncontrollably as if he had experienced profound terror.
In an anxious tone, he said, “I… I think I know what happened, but I’m not sure if it’s a hallucination or if I mixed my dreams with reality…”
“You can tell me; I’ll judge it for myself,” Yvette encouraged.
“I think… I think they might have all turned into monsters…” The youth’s expression became increasingly horrific as he trembled. “I… I didn’t see the process! I was also tied to the bed; I only heard some strange howls in a daze in my dream. When I opened my eyes, I saw… I saw a face! It was pressed right against the window by the door! The gap in the iron window was very tiny, but that face… that face was squeezed in there…”
His description was filled with intense emotion, involuntarily immersing everyone in a palpable sense of dread, and merely recounting the situation felt like it could push him to the verge of breaking down.
He continued, “… It had a strange face with multiple eyes, and the hair wriggled like worms! Its face would split open, becoming a gaping maw filled with sharp teeth! But it only appeared once and then left… I don’t know where it went, and afterward, I fainted from fear…”
The square fell eerily silent as the harsh white light of the searchlights silently poured down, delineating the rigid outlines of everyone’s bodies.
Yet unlike the fear gripping the others, Yvette sensed something familiar in this description.
A head mutation, a face splitting open into a gaping maw filled with sharp teeth… this seemed characteristic of a stage of human deformation…
With this in mind, Yvette surveyed the thirteen rescued individuals again and didn’t spot those two so-called “girls under ten.”
She thought she might know who those two little girls were.