Kimura Yoshihito roared at the surveillance camera, voice hoarse with fury, "Shi Weikang, open the door! Open it now!"
Shi Weikang, face grim and composed, replied, "Captain Kimura, your duty is to protect this facility. I ask that you return to your post immediately."
Then, with a deep bow, his voice softened with false sincerity, "Please, Captain—hold the line until the very last moment. The rescue team is on their way. They'll arrive any minute now."
"Go to hell, you filthy swine!" Kimura shouted back, mimicking a firing stance with his rifle.
At that moment, two engineers dragged a thermic welding machine to the steel gate and began cutting into it. Though the task was far from simple, Shi Weikang paled visibly at the sight.
"Meimei, Lili—prepare to release the Eight-Legged Immortal!" he barked.
The two women recoiled in shock. "Dr. Shi, that's against company protocol!"
"To hell with protocol! This is about survival now! Move!" he roared.
Meanwhile, several guards from the second level had forced open the ventilation hatch and crawled inside—only to find multiple layers of alloyed steel grilles blocking their way. Unmovable. Impenetrable.
Xiao Meini, operating a motorized forklift, maneuvered a massive crate into the logistics tunnel, dropped it off, then backed the forklift out. The inner seal door closed behind her; the outer door slowly slid open.
Three armed guards, emboldened by their weapons, rushed through the opening without hesitation—only to be met by screams that tore through the corridor like fire.
Kimura and the rest dashed forward—just as the creature burst from the tunnel.
It had the torso of a humanoid, but no arms. Its head, unlike any known cephalopod, was grotesquely oversized, with gaping black eyes, nostrils—but no mouth. A colossal helmet sat atop its skull, enhancing its nightmarish visage.
Beneath its humanoid frame, eight massive tentacles writhed like those of a deep-sea kraken. Three of them had already ensnared a guard each—one was being lifted toward its gaping maw.
But where was the mouth? Not on the head.
It was beneath.
At the base of its torso, nestled in a skirt-like membrane of muscle, a vast orifice gaped—the true mouth.
With a sickening crunch, the creature shoved the guard into the posterior maw and bit down, severing the head in a single chomp.
"AHHHHH!!"
Panic erupted. The guards screamed, dropped their weapons, and fled in terror.
Only Kimura remained. He raised his rifle and opened fire.
The monster reacted with horrifying cunning—it used one of the guards as a living shield, displaying tactical instincts no beast should possess.
Then it lunged, two tentacles snapping forward to seize Kimura. With a savage pull, it ripped him clean in half.
One half. Then the other. Both were fed, piece by piece, into that unspeakable mouth, chewed with wet, deliberate relish.
Those who could still run, fled back to the second floor. The creature gave no chase. It simply remained—consuming the fallen.
"You're truly a monster, Shi Weikang," Shen Jilan finally spoke.
"Dr. Shen! Thank God—I knew you'd respond! Let's coordinate a way out of this, please—"
"Coordinate? You and your pet can die together. I'm not foolish enough to offer myself up as monster fodder."
She severed the transmission, unwilling to entertain his lies.
Her resolve to activate CHT1024 solidified.
Donning her exoskeletal suit, she reentered the cryogenic vault. CHT1024's vitals were stable. The eyelids twitched with growing frequency. Shen Jilan removed the IV lines and carefully transferred the body to a mobile medical bed.
Once inside the treatment chamber, she reconnected the fluids and fitted the figure with a warden-class exosuit—fully armored, designed for containment and suppression.
Her heart raced—not with fear, but anticipation, like one meeting a long-lost lover.
For eighteen years, Li Zhui had walked with her through fire and shadow—from mere assistant to team lead, to vice director, to dean. Once human, then broken, then reborn as fusion being—their fates were intimately bound.
In his dream, Li Zhui was trapped in a maelstrom. He struggled upward, only to sink faster. The whirlpool spun tighter, deeper—an abyss with no end.
He was engulfed in darkness, his body wrapped in soft, yielding flesh. At first, it felt warm, even comforting.
But soon he realized—he was melting. Not in pain, for the nerves were dulled—but conscious. Horribly conscious.
That was far more terrifying than agony.
He understood now. He was being devoured—slowly digested by some unknown creature.
And so, he began to fight.
After an indeterminate length of time, he ceased struggling, resigned to the hope that death would come swiftly—or at the very least, unconsciousness might claim him soon.
Yet at that precise moment, the unknown creature began to secrete a strange liquid. Immersed within it, his body halted its dissolution, and, to his astonishment, began to regenerate new tissue.
Death, it seemed, had been reversed. But Levi felt no joy. The suffocating darkness and the stifling enclosure that gripped him offered only unending panic and breathless terror.
When a sliver of strength returned to his limbs, he resumed his desperate fight for freedom—thrashing against the relentless void—until the last of his energy drained away and he once again slipped into unconsciousness.
This cycle of torment repeated countless times. Eventually, something began to change. From his core, tendrils emerged—slender, sinewy appendages that burrowed instinctively into the cocoon surrounding him.
He could not say how many years had passed. The tendrils multiplied, stretching farther, growing longer. Then they split again, and again, becoming finer and more numerous with each division.
And one day, as one of the finest filaments penetrated an unseen point in the enclosure, a flicker of light stirred in Levi's mind.
Compelled by instinct, more tendrils followed, converging upon that singular point—until, at last, a burst of light seared through the darkness.
At precisely 11:59 p.m., on June 11th, Beiming Year 102, Levi slowly opened his eyes. After an age of unbroken slumber, he had finally awakened.
Pain stabbed through his skull, and his lips were cracked with thirst. Through a haze, he saw the silhouette of a woman in a white lab coat standing over him.
"Sir, sir, can you hear me?" the woman asked gently.
Levi gave a faint nod. He was so utterly exhausted that he had no strength for words.
Her face lit up with relief. "Wonderful! Congratulations, sir. You're awake—at last!"
"Who... are you?"
"I am Shen Jilan. You may call me Doctor Shen."
"Doctor Shen... I feel like someone smashed my head with a beer bottle. I can feel shards of glass inside. Can you get them out?" Levi murmured in a daze.
"Of course. I'll begin with a scan to assess the damage, then proceed with surgery," she replied warmly, unable to suppress her delight.
It was clear to her that He Xiaoqiang had completely lost his memory—perfect for molding him into someone new.
"I'm freezing. May I have some hot water?" Levi asked, licking his parched lips.
"You've only just emerged from cryostasis. Raising your body temperature too quickly could cause serious damage."
"Then... what hospital is this? Who brought me here?" he asked weakly.
Doctor Shen chuckled softly. "Let's just call it Jigongshan Hospital, shall we? Relax. You look so nervous. Why don't you get a bit more rest? I'll wake you in three hours, and we can talk more then."
She walked to the door, dimmed the lights, and was about to leave when she suddenly turned and called out, "He Xiaoqiang!"
Levi frowned slightly, staring at her in confusion. "He Xiaoqiang? Who's that?"
"Just a name... ignore it. Sorry to disturb you. Rest well," Shen said, visibly pleased.
The core facility was constructed entirely of steel—double-layered, 50mm-thick bulletproof plating with a 300mm elastic filling between. Only here could one find true protection from quake and flood alike.
According to Dongtai Corporation's internal protocols, senior researchers were entitled to access the core zone during times of crisis. Yet now, Shen Jilan had claimed it entirely for herself. How could Shi Weikang possibly swallow such humiliation?
After much persuasion—appealing to both reason and emotion—Xiao Meini and Juliet finally relented. Each led a squad of humanoid beasts and launched an assault on the fourth floor via the emergency stairwell.
At the vanguard, naturally, was the octopoid monstrosity. Though it bore traces of human DNA, it was far from comprehending human speech. However, the computer embedded in its helmet translated verbal commands into visual cues it could follow.
Two of its powerful tentacles coiled around a 300-tg iron battering ram, and with a single mighty thrust, it blasted open the stairwell's sealed door, sending floodwater crashing in to engulf it.
But the riot-proof core doors were a different beast altogether. The water's resistance severely diminished its impact force; aside from a few muffled thuds, the effort yielded nothing.
The two women promptly switched tactics. Using electric hammer drills, they bored a series of holes into the wall, then instructed the octopoid to insert a crowbar and pry. Though slow, the method was undeniably effective.
All of this, of course, was transmitted through surveillance cameras directly to Shen Jilan's monitor. She watched in a state of shock, fear, and fury. So, Shi Weikang, you think this lady is so easily bullied?
Without delay, she donned her exoskeleton and entered the cryochamber once again—this time, to awaken subject CHT9413.
First, she relocated Levi to the living quarters. Then she wheeled CHT9413's pod into the corridor. Once outside the cryo unit, the subject would awaken naturally.
The 50cm-thick monolithic reinforced concrete wall was breached in under half an hour by the octopoid's relentless prying, leaving a gaping hole.
The two women soon reached the outer wall of the core zone, only to discover not a single opening—not even a ventilation shaft or water pipe. The only connections to the outside world were cables and optical fibers.
They had long prepared portable plasma cutters and now began slicing through the outer plating. Even the 50mm bulletproof steel could not withstand the intense heat for long, and soon, the first layer was breached.
Then, as if to taunt her, they paused—holding up the severed steel slab in front of the surveillance lens, displaying it like a trophy.
Shen Jilan was at once alarmed, bewildered, and seething with rage. Only now did she truly grasp Shi Weikang's cunning. The plasma cutters bore the Dongtai insignia—clearly requisitioned from the security division before disaster struck, a move only he could authorize.
How did this man know catastrophe would strike tonight? He had not only arranged for himself and his loyalists to be on duty, securing the third floor in advance—but had also prepared tools tailored to break through her defenses.
"Well, Director Shen," Shi Weikang said smugly through the speaker, "shall we cooperate now?"
"Drop dead, you filthy swine!" Shen Jilan screamed back.
"If words alone could kill, this world would have no need for weapons," he replied with a calm, almost patronizing smile. "Now then, Miss Shen, open the door."
"You may die now, pig," Shen Jilan responded icily. Having survived her initial panic, she had regained composure. "I'm going to make coffee. Take your time cutting through, you three pigs."
Returning to the living quarters, she locked the steel door manually. Then, with utmost calm, she brewed herself a cup of civet coffee.