As soon as Pei Ran closed the door, everyone, well-versed in such situations, immediately rushed forward and used all their strength to block the entrance.
The light in the tunnel dimmed. Without needing to be prompted, W automatically turned on his light.
The light illuminated the abandoned tunnel. The ground was covered in red dust, and various construction debris was haphazardly piled against the walls. Pei Ran scanned the area and selected a thick steel rebar.
The lock embedded in the metal door had already been violently smashed off by her, leaving a hole. Pei Ran squeezed through with the rebar in hand, examined it for a moment, then used her mechanical hand to grip the door frame and pulled it to the side.
The door frame, also made of metal, immediately deformed under her strength, creating a gap between it and the adjacent wall panel.
Pei Ran bent the rebar, threaded it through the gap, and then looped it back through the hole where the lock had been, twisting the ends together like a braid.
The door was now sealed shut.
In just a few moments, the banging sounds of impacts against the metal door grew into a cacophony. The swarm of human-sheet machines had arrived, completely taking over the outside. Through the hole, the patterns on their thin, covering skins could be seen.
These things could deform people with their green light. Pei Ran signaled everyone to retreat further back.
“What’s the next move?” Pei Ran turned to look deeper into the tunnel and asked W, “Should we wait here for them to leave, or keep going further in? Is there another exit in this place?”
W replied, “I’ve checked the structural map of this place. We can head inward, pass through the mountain, and there’s an exit on the other side. It should allow us to avoid this swarm of fusion entities.”
The tunnel extended inward, pitch black and seemingly endless.
Pei Ran pointed deeper into the tunnel, hoisted the light, and took the lead, walking forward first.
Everyone who had narrowly escaped death followed silently.
The same thought was in everyone’s mind—they hoped no strange creatures were hiding in this tunnel. In such a confined space, with the swarm of human-sheet machines outside, there would be nowhere to hide.
The group walked for a long time but encountered no living creatures.
In the northwestern part of the Manya Continent, near Yercha, the weather was extremely dry. Vast stretches of red soil barely supported any plant life, with only dry, shriveled shrubs scattered about.
This tunnel was not damp at all. There were no insects, not even rats, just dry red dust covering the ground. It was kicked up by their footsteps, then settled back down quietly.
W checked the map. “We’re more than halfway through the tunnel. The exit is just ahead.”
In the quiet procession, a loud song suddenly rang out:
“You said that gentle breeze is the chant of your courage—”
“Did you imagine a glimmer of dawn on that night—”
The song reverberated through the silent tunnel, its echoes lingering endlessly.
It was Nuomituan.
At some point, the little parrot had used its claws to peel off the tape wrapped around its beak, and it began to sing loudly again.
In a flash, a figure lunged toward Inaya and grabbed the parrot perched on her shoulder.
It was the young man in the purple jacket who had been on the train, the one whose clothing tag had burned off and who had nearly been burned to death if not for the old couple’s cup of water.
He was in good physical condition, having been at the front of the group earlier, and now he had run ahead quickly, becoming one of the first to reach the tunnel entrance.
After finally finding refuge in this place, he had no intention of being implicated by a parrot.
Furious, he clenched his teeth, gripping the bird tightly in his hand. Nuomituan’s singing abruptly stopped, letting out a pitiful cry from the depths of its throat.
But the man in the purple jacket suddenly froze.
He released the parrot, staggered backward a few steps, his expression filled with terror. He looked down at himself as if he were seeing something horrifying.
Nuomituan fell from his hand, spread its wings mid-air, flapped them a few times in panic, and hurriedly flew back to its owner.
Inaya extended her arm, letting the parrot land, but her eyes remained fixed on the man in the purple jacket.
It was hypnosis.
Pei Ran immediately summoned Yulianka’s green light.
This ability to control others’ powers—she wasn’t sure how it worked.
Every time Yulianka used his ability, he would open his mouth slightly, revealing a green light inside, and he would stare at the target he wanted to control.
Everyone around was focused on the man in the purple jacket and Inaya. Pei Ran stared at Inaya and quietly opened her mouth.
Sure enough, Yulianka’s green light shifted to her mouth.
It was as if some kind of connection had suddenly been established. The scene before Pei Ran’s eyes changed.
A layer of special, hazy illusions superimposed itself over her normal vision.
Within this layer of illusory imagery, the body of the man in the purple jacket was undergoing a strange transformation.
His body, from his torso to his limbs, was softening and melting like clay, losing its original shape.
It was as if some mysterious force was pulling him from all directions, flattening and stretching his body. The texture of his clothes quickly merged into the flesh, blood, and veins of his skin, and gradually, his entire body began to resemble the human-sheet machine’s thin, human-like covering—
A thin sheet of purple and flesh tones mixed together.
The young man looked down at the changes happening to him, his face filled with utter terror.
Pei Ran understood. She was seeing, through Inaya, the horrifying illusion Inaya had created for the man in the purple jacket.
There were over thirty people crammed into the narrow tunnel, the crowd too dense. If the man in the purple jacket panicked, screamed, and ran around, and then suddenly exploded, the unlucky ones might not be limited to just him.
Pei Ran had no idea how to break the illusion.
But as soon as this thought crossed her mind, the hazy, phantom image of the illusion immediately popped like a soap bubble and vanished.
The young man in the purple jacket abruptly broke free from his nightmare.
He stood there frozen for a long moment, then looked around in terror, glancing left and right, before finally looking down at himself.
Realizing he hadn’t actually turned into a human sheet, his expression relaxed, and cold sweat dripped from his forehead.
Inaya, whose spell had been forcibly interrupted, was also startled.
She immediately turned her head, her face filled with fear, and scanned the area.
On the train, she had known that her ability had been manipulated by someone else, forcing her to do a series of strange things, but she had no idea who had controlled her.
Whoever had manipulated her clearly had the goal of targeting the girl with the ponytail and the metal ball, trying to seize control of the train.
Later, she had been caught by the ponytailed girl, but was quickly released. It seemed the girl knew that none of the things that had happened on the train were Inaya’s doing—she was innocent.
Some people had been thrown off the train, and it had continued forward, safely arriving in Yercha.
In this situation where no one could speak and everyone had to remain silent, everything that had happened was like a muddy pool of water.
Without effective communication, everyone could only infer what had happened from their own perspective, making it nearly impossible to figure out the truth. There weren’t even any extra clues.
Inaya had completely given up on trying to understand.
She had planned to simply follow everyone and safely reach the refuge. But now, someone had tried to kill her beloved parrot.
Absolutely not.
When she had heard Nuomituan’s pitiful cry, she had acted a little impulsively, using the green light without thinking.
But something even more terrifying had happened—someone had interrupted her hypnosis.
She didn’t know if it was the same person who had controlled her on the train, or if there was someone else who also had this ability.
Inaya’s mind was in chaos as she looked at Pei Ran.
Could it be her? If not, did she know that there was someone else in the group who could manipulate her ability?
Regardless, they were almost at Black Well. It was best to keep a low profile.
Pei Ran glanced indifferently at Inaya, then took out a roll of tape from her backpack, tore off a piece, and handed it to her.
This little bird that loved to sing still needed its beak sealed shut.
Inaya carefully taped up Nuomituan’s beak, then silently reached out and asked Pei Ran for another piece of tape to bind its claws, preventing it from peeling off the tape on its beak again. She then tucked the parrot into the hood near her neck.
W reacted quickly and asked Pei Ran, “Did you use Yulianka’s green light to interrupt Inaya’s hypnosis?”
Pei Ran replied, “Yes.”
Pei Ran had originally been planning when she could feed Yulianka’s green light to Green Light No. 1, but now she was in no hurry.
Yulianka’s green light was still quite useful.
She wondered if, in case she was hypnotized again, she could use this ability to free herself from the illusion.
When the opportunity arose, she could also experiment with how to control other people’s abilities.
Pei Ran watched as Inaya dealt with Nuomituan, then turned around. The metal ball slung across her body also rotated, and the light swept across the tunnel ahead.
Not far ahead, something was lying horizontally on the ground of the tunnel.
It seemed to be squirming.
In an instant, those standing closer to the front all saw it.
They were so frightened that they quickly retreated. Those behind, not understanding what was happening, also hurriedly backed away, and some simply turned and ran back.
W’s calm voice sounded in Pei Ran’s ear: “Don’t worry, it looks like a human. No abnormal deformities have been detected, so it’s probably not a deranged fusion entity.”
His bright searchlight was still shining in that direction, and after slightly increasing the brightness, he quickly concluded: “He’s wearing combat gear. He’s a soldier from Black Well.”
Pei Ran asked, “Is he part of the group that was supposed to come meet us?”
That group had disappeared on their way here, leaving no trace. Pei Ran had originally guessed that, given the large number of human-sheet machines in this area, they might have unfortunately run into a swarm.
“No, it’s not them,” W replied. His vision was extremely sharp, and he had already magnified the image several times and performed facial recognition. “This is Captain Xiao Hai, who participated in a special reconnaissance mission for Black Well today. Let’s go over.”
Pei Ran, carrying the ball, ran forward. The others, not understanding what she was planning to do, cautiously followed.
As they got closer, they could see clearly. Lying on the ground was indeed a young soldier in full combat gear, appearing to be only in his twenties.
He had struggled for a while but seemed to have run out of strength and was now lying flat on his back.
Pei Ran immediately went over and crouched down to examine him.
Captain Xiao Hai’s entire body was severely injured. From his shoulders to his arms, and down to his waist and abdomen, it looked as if he had been splashed with some highly corrosive liquid.
The substance was extremely potent, having not only melted part of his clothing but also deeply penetrated, dissolving his flesh and part of his internal organs. The wounds were horrific.
Pei Ran only needed one glance to know that he was dying.
He had lost too much blood, his lips were cracked, and his face was covered with the ashen hue of impending death.
W said, “I checked the records. He was supposed to be operating a reconnaissance aircraft today with another lieutenant, carrying out a scouting and bombing mission west of Black Well.”
No one knew why he had ended up here.
Captain Xiao Hai had already closed his eyes, but sensing the bright light nearby, he struggled to open them again.
Blurrily, he made out Pei Ran crouching in front of him and suddenly made a desperate effort to move. However, his injuries were too severe, and he could only barely lift one hand.
His gaze finally focused, and he looked at Pei Ran with urgency, as if he had something extremely important to tell her.
But they were in the midst of silence—no speaking, no writing.
The hand Captain Xiao Hai had raised moved slightly, his thumb and index finger curling with effort, leaving the other three fingers extended. He paused for a moment, then relaxed his curled fingers, spreading his entire palm open, before clenching his fist again, leaving only his index finger extended.
Pei Ran understood. He was signaling numbers.
Three. Five. One.
Pei Ran immediately repeated his gestures: three, five, one.
Captain Xiao Hai looked at her with eyes dimmed by the approach of death, and a faint smile seemed to flicker across his face.
He was saying: Correct.
He mustered all his strength again, struggling to continue.
This time, the gestures he made were “four” and “five.”
He stopped, his gaze fixed on Pei Ran’s eyes. His battered chest rose and fell as he took a deep, slow breath, then raised his hand again.
He signaled a “one,” retracted his fingers, then signaled another “one,” before extending four fingers.
One. One. Four.
Three, five, one, four, five, one, one, four.
Captain Xiao Hai stopped once more, his hand falling limply to the ground.
Pei Ran reached out to help lift his arm, but the hand seemed completely devoid of strength, remaining motionless.
Pei Ran came up with another idea. She let go of his hand and began making the number gestures herself. If he saw the correct numbers, he could simply nod or blink.
However, Captain Xiao Hai wearily closed his eyes, his breathing becoming labored, one gasp after another, as if he was already entering the final moments of his life.
He hadn’t finished conveying his numbers.
Finally, he opened his eyes again, seemingly using every last ounce of strength to focus them on Pei Ran. His dry, cracked lips parted.
The people gathered behind, seeing him open his mouth as if to speak, all quickly backed away.
Pei Ran didn’t. Instead, she leaned forward, bringing her ear close to his lips.
Captain Xiao Hai’s eyes filled with relief.
He looked at Pei Ran and softly whispered a few words:
“…Nine, eight, two.”
He closed his lips, clearly finished. Pei Ran stood up and quickly stepped back.
Boom.
The person on the ground vanished.
But Pei Ran felt as if his eyes were still on her, urging her to remember the numbers he had desperately reported.
“Three, five, one, four, five, one, one, four, nine, eight, two,” Pei Ran repeated. “What is this?”
“Coordinates,” W replied. “These are the coordinates of a location west of Black Well. He only reported three decimal places, but the precision is already sufficient. It’s about seventy kilometers southwest of here.”
He added, “Pei Ran, even if his voice was very soft, I could have captured it. You didn’t need to risk getting so close.”
Pei Ran led the group forward, walking a few steps before responding, “He kept looking at me, not at you, which means he didn’t recognize you. If it were me, and I was desperately reporting numbers before dying, I’d feel more at peace if someone leaned in close to listen carefully.”