The CZR3857 Research Institute was of paramount importance to the Dongtai Consortium, and as such, a rescue team was dispatched immediately—but they were at a loss where to begin.
Though Mount Jigong had not vanished, the massive crater left by its collapse was swiftly submerged by torrential rains. Moreover, from Nacao Village to Lingdu Township, along a 300-kilometer stretch of the Longling River—spanning ten kilometers in width—widespread landslides had occurred, transforming the landscape into a vast inland sea.
Heavy machinery could not penetrate the disaster zone, and only helicopters could lower divers to search. After days of scouring, not a single clue was found.
Yet the calamity did not end there.
The landslides triggered massive mudflows, soon clogging the Longling Gorge. All the floodgates of the Longji Dam, including the navigation locks, were opened to full capacity—but to no avail. As sediment accumulated, there was even a risk that the dam itself might be buried beneath the debris.
Worst of all, the blockade caused a rapid rise in water levels, submerging even more land—and the relentless rain showed no sign of stopping.
The most esteemed scholars and experts within the Dongtai colony were summoned for urgent consultation. What could have caused such an unprecedented catastrophe?
A theory quickly emerged: Earthlings had attempted to smuggle themselves through the interstellar gate.
Of course, this claim was unverifiable, as in Beiming Year 29, the Earth Union had passed a resolution to permanently shut down the stargate. Radio communication was also impossible, as the wormhole itself was a massive magnetic field that blocked all electromagnetic waves.
But the upper echelons of Dongtai knew the truth all too well—the trespassers weren't Earthlings, but a rogue faction from within their own ranks.
On June 10th, a manager from the water utility, along with several relatives, attempted to force open a micro-wormhole by generating a massive spherical lightning field, hiding large quantities of diamonds within their bodies in hopes of reaching Earth in Universe One.
However, a miscalculation at the moment of zero-point transition caused atomic-level disintegration. The resulting explosion tore a vacuum into the atmosphere, triggering extreme weather anomalies.
This was the truth, which had already been thoroughly investigated—but had to be suppressed. And the barrier at Longling Gorge needed to be resolved without delay.
On June 12th, engineering crews began boring multiple tunnels along the southern bank of Longling Gorge. But the excavation speed fell far short of what was needed to relieve the blockage.
Then, a brilliant mind proposed a seemingly ludicrous plan: divert the river to the Yiba Basin. At first glance, it seemed absurd—Yiba was a high-altitude plateau basin, with an average elevation of over 1,200 meters.
In fact, the plan was to displace gas with water—freeing up natural gas fields to be flooded with river water.
The Dongtai leadership was ecstatic. The Executive Council unanimously approved the plan and declared it a top-priority initiative.
The project was handed to the Dongtai Fuel Corporation, with the Special Operations Division in charge of security, and Vice President Fujiki Sadanao personally overseeing the operation.
A vice president supervising a single engineering task was unprecedented. Naturally, all departments snapped into action. Within 24 hours, all preparations were complete.
The obscure hamlet of Jianjia, in the Mu'en section of the Southern Highway—previously all but invisible on colonial maps—suddenly became the center of Dongtai's attention.
The heart of the project lay in the western outskirts of Jianjia, in the Liujin River Valley, where five natural gas wells were already in operation.
The landslide had caused the Longling River's water level to surge, dramatically increasing hydraulic pressure. This pressure forced groundwater through subterranean rock fissures, making natural gas fields on both banks the first to feel the strain.
Under relentless pressure, most of the gas wells suffered blowouts. Only the Liujin Valley wells were spared—after being rapidly injected with heavy drilling mud and opened to full vent, the wells held firm.
The engineering team excavated a massive drainage channel 100 meters west of the existing wells, quickly draining the valley before building a platform and installing drilling equipment.
Sixteen drill rigs formed a circle, with four more at the center—twenty boreholes were drilled simultaneously.
As drilling continued day and night, depths soon exceeded 2,500 meters. Just as they neared the design depth, a blowout occurred.
Well No. 13 lost control—mud burst skyward like a geyser.
Site commander Kyozawa Kokuchu immediately ordered the shear rams to sever the drill string and seal the wellhead—successfully closing Well 13.
He then requested permission to initiate early pressurized sealing. After consulting the expert team, Vice President Fujiki approved.
All nineteen drill rigs ceased drilling, deployed semi-sealed wellheads, and began injecting liquid explosives.
Yes, their plan was to detonate the gas field and create an enormous deep borehole of unprecedented diameter.
Once the charges were in place, they activated the shear rams to seal all nineteen wells, swiftly dismantled the rigs, and evacuated the site.
At exactly 00:38 on June 19th, Beiming Year 102, with Kyozawa's command, all nineteen wells erupted in unison. Nineteen drill towers were hurled skyward, then crashed down ten meters away from their boreholes.
Simultaneously, high-pressure gas surged upward, carrying rock fragments and mud, shooting more than a hundred meters into the air.
Soon after, under the relentless pressure of the high-pressure gases, the well walls—already fractured by the explosion—began to collapse entirely. The diameter of the gas well expanded rapidly, and the eruption grew ever more ferocious.
The fire sparked by the earlier detonation was now extinguished by the sheer force of the gas jet, allowing toxic, hydrogen-sulfide-laden fumes to gather ominously above the river valley.
"It appears this part is yours to handle," Fujiki Sadanao said with a faint smile.
Deputy Director of the Special Operations Division, Amemiya Satoshi, snapped to attention. "Yes, sir!" he responded crisply, then reached for the communicator, prepared to order the launch of incendiary rounds.
"Please wait!"
With a deep bow, Kyozawa Kokuchu interjected, "Vice President Fujiki, my deepest apologies. I must express my personal view that an ignition at this moment would be ill-advised. It may very well trigger a catastrophic explosion, potentially destroying the well entirely."
"That is a factor we must certainly take into account," Fujiki said calmly, turning to Amemiya. "Amemiya-kun, what is your view on the matter?"
"I… I concur with Chief Engineer Kyozawa's judgment," Amemiya replied, bowing as well, clearly astonished that the Vice President had sought his opinion at all.
"I strongly disagree with Mr. Kyozawa!"
The voice belonged to Okawa Yohō, Governor of the Southern Province. His anger was barely restrained. "If we do not ignite the gas immediately, and it spreads unchecked, we're courting another full-blown disaster! I urge Vice President Fujiki to reconsider!"
He didn't particularly care if a few colonists died—but to stand by and let disaster unfold would make him appear utterly incompetent.
Kyozawa, being three ranks beneath Okawa, dared not refute him openly. Instead, he cast a desperate glance at his superior, FuelCorp General Manager Kameda Masayoshi.
Fujiki, unwilling to let the upper echelons descend into open conflict, raised his right hand slightly. The gesture was clear: all decisions would rest with him.
"Gentlemen, this matter is of utmost importance. My position is this: we defer to the Advisory Council of the Central Command for deliberation. Any further objections?"
None were voiced.
Thus, the gas ignition was postponed. In its place, a massive evacuation operation was launched, focusing on Yiba Hamlet and its surrounding settlements.
The gas continued its unbridled eruption, and with each passing hour, it formed a super-cloud spanning over thirty kilometers.
At 22:00 on June 19, the ignition plan was finally approved and set in motion. For this daunting task, a full rocket artillery battalion was dispatched from the armed guard.
To prevent a cataclysmic explosion, over a hundred tons of anti-detonation agents were dispersed at the cloud's core. Only then were incendiary rounds fired from multiple vectors.
With a chorus of thunderous blasts, the entire thirty-kilometer zone was engulfed in flame. Everything that breathed or moved within it was instantly reduced to ash.
Inside the gas field, the surrounding bedrock began to crumble. Massive boulders—some tens, even hundreds of meters across—broke loose. These titanic fragments collided violently, shattering further still.
The cycle of collapse and fragmentation continued until all that remained was pulverized stone, swept up in the roaring plumes of gas.
Thus, a colossal, deep borehole emerged—its diameter exceeding one hundred meters.
Could this be the fabled "Eye of the Earth Spirit"? In the legends of Beiming, the awakening of the Earth God's eye heralded the rise of hellfire that would raze all creation.
Setting aside the wild rumors for the moment, one fact was indisputable: with the formation of the Earth Spirit's Eye, the water level of the Longling River began to recede.
And curiously, the first place to reflect this change was Mount Jigong.
Where the mountain had once collapsed, a crater now stretched 1,100 meters in length and 770 meters in width. Torrential rains had swiftly turned it into a lake.
Even after the skies cleared, it remained—a lifeless, stagnant basin of water.
On June 25th, following a routine aerial survey, the Longling River Disaster Relief Command made a startling discovery—Lake Jigong had completely dried up.
At that very moment, amidst the ruins of the CZR3857 Research Institute, Li Zhui awoke to a peculiar sight: the water along the corridor was slowly spiraling.
It was not the disaster command but the Central Command's Special Operations Division that reacted first. Eventually, however, collaboration became necessary, and they airlifted excavation machinery using heavy-lift helicopters.
The overburden wasn't particularly deep; within five hours, a passage had been unearthed. The first level of water, however, remained stagnant, and the autonomous scanning equipment made only sluggish progress. Due to the need for tethered operation, it was also unable to penetrate very far.
Amemiya Satoshi stood frowning, torn by a grim decision. Sending men in would be perilous—he knew too well what lurked below.
Yet if he hesitated, if any transgenic organisms had survived and slipped away along the currents, it wouldn't be just his team paying the price.
With a deep sigh, Amemiya gave the order—deploy the frogmen unit.
It's important to note that this underwater tactical team consisted solely of unmodified human operatives—no genetically altered soldiers among them.
They entered through the breach, only to find the main stairwell to the second level blocked. Forced to swim through the first level, they descended via the emergency stairwell in the central sector.
Exercising due caution, they deployed a stun charge before entering the main area.
Upon locating the stairwell, they bypassed both the second and third levels, diving straight for the fourth.
Soon enough, the team discovered the breach in the main containment wall. Their commander, no fool, knew exactly what they were dealing with.
He signaled his squad, then withdrew a stun grenade from his tactical vest, pulled the pin, and lobbed it into the breach before darting swiftly along the wall.
Though small, the stun charge unleashed a tremendous underwater shockwave, the pressure surging through the corridor and slamming into the reinforced steel walls of the core zone.
When the turbulence settled, the operatives regrouped and began to funnel into the opening one by one. Two, however, lagged behind, burdened by a cable-routing module that slowed their advance.
Just as the first of the trailing pair began to enter the breach, a sudden ripple surged from the flank. A figure shot toward them, brandishing a steak knife, and with a swift slash, severed the diver's air hose.
The second diver drew his combat blade and lunged at Li Zhui—only to freeze upon realizing the man wore no diving gear. No normal human could survive like that.
A flash of insight hit him. Changing course, he decided to rejoin his squad and kicked powerfully toward the base of Li Zhui's legs, calculating that Li—whether advancing or retreating—would be offset by the water's resistance and buoyancy, drifting further away.
But he had misjudged.
Li Zhui exhaled forcefully, plunging a full foot downward. With one swift motion, his right foot hooked the man's breathing line, yanking him back—then slashed clean through it.
Li Zhui hadn't intended to kill. Eighteen years of cryosleep had numbed the violence within him.
Sensing fresh currents surging nearby, he immediately retreated from the breach—he knew well the power of the stun grenades was beyond even his resilience.
From the breach emerged a waterproof flashlight, followed by a Special Ops diver sliding belly-up along the floor. Another quickly followed, armed with a speargun, and using the light for aim, fired the harpoon directly at Li Zhui.
He kicked off with both feet, shooting upward with blistering speed—but not fast enough. The harpoon struck him squarely in the right side of the chest.
Its tail was tethered by a thick monofilament line.
There would be no escape now.