Catfish stood in the basement, gripping a large travel bag filled with cans, still dazed, when the green dots surged toward him like a tidal wave.
They moved incredibly fast—Catfish had no time to dodge. Just as he was about to be engulfed, the swarm miraculously changed direction.
The edge of the massive swirling arm brushed past Catfish’s shoulder.
Terrified, he finally snapped out of his daze and let out a sigh of relief.
But then, at the outer edge of the swirling arm, a single green dot trembled slightly.
Like a droplet flung free from the vortex, it separated from its companions and splattered sideways—right into the back of Catfish’s head.
As if struck by a bullet, Catfish pitched forward and collapsed facedown on the ground, motionless.
Blackie reacted quickly. As the luminous vortex surged in, he had already bolted up the stairs, leaping several steps at a time until he reached the first floor. Desperate, he fled toward the exit.
The floor was cluttered with debris, slowing his escape. Unlike the intelligent robot that had escaped through the window two days prior, he had no such ability. It took all his effort just to reach the front door.
But the luminous vortex spreading behind him wasn’t bound by the same limitations.
It didn’t need stairs or doors. It moved in a straight line, passing through walls, engulfing everything.
Just a single part of its swirling arm was enough to fill the entire factory. The glowing arm swept forward.
Like a tide of light, the dots swallowed Blackie in an instant.
The massive whirlpool revealed its true form as it emerged from underground. Without pause, it continued spinning forward, leaving the factory area and sweeping toward the crowd evacuating at the dormitory building’s entrance.
People screamed in panic, scattering in all directions—but they were far too slow. The luminous vortex swallowed them in waves.
Back in the basement, Catfish, who had collapsed on the ground, began to move again.
He staggered to his feet.
His pupils had dilated significantly, dark and hollow, the whites of his eyes nearly invisible.
Strangest of all was his stomach. Somehow, when he fell, it had fused oddly with the open travel bag.
Now, his stomach bore the texture and pattern of the bag’s canvas, even sporting a zipper.
Catfish tried to make sense of his surroundings, but his mind felt hazy, as if only a vague thought remained.
He looked down at his stomach.
So convenient, he thought. A travel bag on my stomach… so convenient.
Now I can carry even more.
With a swift motion, he unzipped the half-open zipper and glanced inside at the chaotic, grotesquely fused mess of organs. Then he grabbed the remaining cans on the table and forcefully stuffed them into the gaping opening.
His belly bulged larger and larger.
Finally, after cramming in all the cans, he still wasn’t satisfied. He looked around but found nothing else worth taking as food. Swaying unsteadily, he trudged outside.
His stomach was heavy, packed full. Dragging it along, he climbed the steps one by one, exited the factory, and emerged onto the street.
Still not enough. Need to pack. Pack more.
This was the only thought fixated in his mind.
He scanned his surroundings.
The street had just been swept by the luminous vortex, littered with bodies sprawled in all directions.
Some lay completely still, as if dead, while others had begun to twitch, trying to crawl up.
A small figure in a hooded sweatshirt crept out from a corner. Having narrowly escaped disaster, he glanced fearfully at the people on the street and the massive, receding vortex before pressing close to the wall and slinking away in the opposite direction.
Those who had absorbed the green light were gradually standing up—swaying, expressionless, their eyes utterly wrong.
As if they’d all gone mad.
The small figure panicked, constantly looking back as he stumbled straight into someone’s chest.
A hand clamped tightly around his arm.
It was Catfish. His pitch-black pupils stared at the small figure, studying him for a few seconds before reaching a conclusion—
Edible.
Needs to go in the bag.
Grabbing the small figure with both hands, he ripped.
His strength had become monstrous. The small figure didn’t even have time to scream before his body was torn in half.
Still too big—it wouldn’t fit in the bag.
Catfish diligently continued dismantling, tearing the remains into smaller pieces before unzipping his stomach and stuffing them all inside.
His belly stretched like an infinitely expandable sack, now even larger, dragging heavily on the ground. After zipping it shut, Catfish scanned his surroundings with hollow eyes and continued foraging.
—
Green Zone.
The small truck sped down the road. In the distance, between the skyscrapers, a massive green vortex hovered midair, sweeping through everything as it advanced rapidly.
W spoke: “Currently, there are four luminous vortices in Black Well—two in the Yellow Zone, one that returned to the Blue Zone, and one near the Green Zone. Their movement speed is too fast for the military to evacuate everyone in time. People need to hurry on their own.”
Sirens blared intermittently, alongside W’s voice reciting safety precautions, playing on loop.
The small truck sped away from the exit, heading deep into the heart of the Green Zone. The further they went, the fewer people they saw on the road, until eventually, there were none at all.
Up ahead was the location W had pinpointed—Hive Tech. Pei Ran could already see the yellow logo on the building.
Though there was no one around, Pei Ran still parked in a secluded corner, instructing Xingkong to stay in the truck with Ren, gun in hand.
W had access to both the surveillance cameras along the road and the feed from Ren’s optics. If there was trouble, he’d warn them first, so Pei Ran wasn’t too worried.
She got out alone, carrying only her backpack, and approached the building’s entrance.
“Do I need to pick the lock?” she asked W silently.
After tonight, she’d gotten a little too used to breaking and entering.
W sounded exasperated. “No need. I have access privileges—I can open the doors here.”
The building’s main entrance slid open automatically.
Inside, the lights were bright, but it was eerily quiet. Even if there had been night-shift personnel, they must have already evacuated.
The first floor was a soaring, open lobby with a massive virtual screen playing a promotional video.
It showcased Hive Tech’s latest product—a new type of prosthetic limb. Customizable based on the user’s DNA, it could perfectly mimic the appearance of a natural arm, complete with growing nails and fine hair. Incredibly flexible and lifelike, it caused zero rejection after implantation—yet was still detachable.
“Where are we going?” Pei Ran asked.
If W had her come here at a time like this, there had to be something critical they needed to retrieve before evacuating.
“Take the elevator,” W replied. “We’re heading to the basement level.”
Another basement.
Basements, hidden from daylight, always seemed to hold the darkest secrets.
The elevator descended. When the doors opened, several more security gates awaited, but each one automatically unlocked as Pei Ran approached.
No obstacles. No resistance.
The walls here were sterile white—clearly a lab, though it looked like it had only been set up recently. Boxes of all sizes were haphazardly stacked, some still unopened.
Pei Ran spotted rows of prosthetic limbs. Some were metallic, but most were bioengineered—arms, legs—indistinguishable from the real thing.
There were also ears and eyes of various sizes, each connected to artificial internal structures.
No wonder W had once said that if Hive Tech’s research progressed smoothly, they might be able to give her a rejection-free arm.
Pei Ran didn’t have time to examine them closely. W was still guiding her forward.
“Go straight, then turn left.”
She arrived at a door at the very back of the laboratory.
The door slid open slowly, revealing a small chamber illuminated only by a faint blue light, casting an eerie glow.
After walking through brightly lit corridors, Pei Ran’s eyes struggled to adjust to the dimness. But W made no move to turn on the lights.
Suddenly, he fell silent.
Pei Ran immediately tensed, taking a step back. “W, are you still there?” she asked inwardly.
“I’m here,” W replied. “I haven’t been jammed.”
His mechanical spider stirred, crawling out of her pocket and down her arm until it reached her palm, curling up as tightly as it could.
It was a gesture of seeking comfort—as if she could sense his unease.
Pei Ran closed her fingers around it gently.
“You…” W hesitated for a split second. “…Keep moving forward.”
Pei Ran stepped into the small room.
The mechanical spider remained curled in her palm, but W’s voice was as calm as ever: “Pei Ran, guess what you’re about to see?”
Pei Ran answered, “A miracle.”
As her eyes adjusted, the scene before her became clear.
At the center of the room stood a rectangular structure, roughly two meters long. One end was a complex mechanical apparatus, while the rest resembled a translucent tank.
Pei Ran moved closer, step by step, until she could see it clearly—a pool filled with a blue, semi-transparent liquid.
And within it, faintly visible, lay a naked figure, motionless.
In the dim light, she could just make out the silhouette—a man, his entire body submerged in the blue fluid. His head was fully immersed, the back of his skull partially encased by the mechanical apparatus at one end of the tank.
Pei Ran had expected this, yet her heartbeat still quickened uncontrollably.
She took a slow, deep breath, forcing herself to remain composed.
W’s voice continued in her ear: “Pei Ran, place my core processor on the red circular marker beside the cultivation vat.”
Next to the mechanical apparatus, a small platform—about the size of a book—extended outward, bearing a red circle.
Without asking a single question, Pei Ran unzipped her backpack, carefully retrieved W’s core processor, and placed it on the marker.
The red circle lit up immediately.
The platform slid soundlessly into the tank, merging seamlessly with the mechanical apparatus.
A faint noise followed—something activating—but the sound was muffled by the liquid, indistinct.
Pei Ran waited in silence.
The mechanical hum ceased, and the transparent cover above the cultivation vat slowly retracted to the side.
The figure submerged in the tank stirred.
A bare arm, pressed against the glass, lifted slightly.
Then, like someone who had fallen asleep in a bathtub and suddenly jolted awake, he surged upward with a gasp.
Only then did Pei Ran realize the semi-transparent blue “liquid” wasn’t liquid at all—more like a loose gelatin, sliding off his body in clumps as he moved.
Bracing his arms against the edge of the tank, he coughed, head bowed.
His hair was dark, slightly damp, and beneath it—
The face was unmistakable.
Thick lashes, sharp features cast in blue light—the proud bridge of his nose, the faintly upturned curve of his lips, the clean line of his jaw—
It was him.
Pei Ran thought, This isn’t possible.
That face—W’s flawlessly crafted virtual avatar—existed in the real world.
He turned his head and looked at her.
Eyes deep black, reflecting the glow of blue.
Like a character tearing through the barriers of a virtual world, breaking dimensions to stand before her.
“I didn’t expect our first meeting to be like this.”
This time, his voice didn’t come from her earpiece. He spoke aloud, his tone and cadence exactly as she remembered.
“My original plan was to wait until Hive Tech’s systems were fully operational, until the final adjustments were complete. Then, on a good day, dressed properly, I’d knock on your dormitory door for real.”
“I could almost picture your shocked expression when you opened it.”
He tilted his head slightly—just as his virtual avatar often did.
“I thought, maybe after you recovered, you’d even hug me. But I never imagined our first meeting would be… like this.”
He added, “So undignified.”
The blue gel left glistening trails on his bare skin, droplets clinging to his collarbone before sliding down his chest.
This—
This was truly a miracle.