Black Well was much larger than Pei Ran had imagined.
This underground city was vastly different from the dark tunnels of the bunker world that resembled rat paths. It was grand in scale, with a high, dark-colored dome that didn’t feel too oppressive. Towering, termite-nest-like buildings stood densely packed, making the place look like a real city—only the architectural style appeared slightly strange.
Although it was already nighttime outside, inside Black Well it was bright as day. The lighting equipment installed on the dome cast down a cold white light.
This city seemed unfinished; the roads weren’t completely constructed, with some areas full of potholes and occasionally blocked off with signs for ongoing construction.
Perhaps it was because no one had ever thought that one day the hover cars would vanish, and that only antique cars running on the ground would be able to reach Black Well.
The closer they got to the city center, the more complete things became. Through the car window, Pei Ran could vaguely see a wide-open plaza, surrounded by tall buildings. On one of the towers, there was an enormous, sky-high virtual display screen.
On the screen, massive human portraits were being broadcast one after another.
Pei Ran saw herself among them.
Her three-dimensional image slowly rotated on the large screen, alongside a description of her “heroic deeds,” and one prominent line of text:
[Federal First-Class Medal]
Pei Ran silently thought: The Federation sure is generous. Just saying they’d award a medal and they really did. She had no idea herself.
While her 3D image spun around up there, she herself was currently locked inside a tightly sealed armored vehicle, only able to glimpse the outside world through a small window.
The armored escort vehicle was surrounded by a squad of fully armed Federation soldiers. Not only were they equipped with weapons, but their entire bodies were also wrapped in a transparent membrane from head to toe.
The thin film continuously shimmered with iridescent light, like a layer of soap bubbles. It looked to be some kind of special isolation suit.
Such a grand formation was probably all because of the green light of those madness-state fusion entity inside her.
Pei Ran didn’t feel quite so uncomfortable now.
She touched her wrist.
When they entered from Black Well’s southern entrance just now, the first thing they did was fasten a red wristband on her left wrist. It looked somewhat similar to her black wristband, but this one wasn’t elastic. It was made of hard, non-stretchable rubber, with a clasp on it.
Pei Ran gently tugged at it. The clasp was locked—unable to open.
The moment the wristband clamped around her wrist, all the green lights inside her body—those from Order State No.1, No.2, and No.3, as well as those frenzied ones running amok—suddenly all went limp.
It was a wristband with a suppressive effect on the green light.
After putting it on, she did feel much better. The dizziness and nausea had greatly subsided.
At this moment, Pei Ran’s thoughts were mostly focused on curiosity about this underground city.
From the entrance onward, she had been directly placed into the armored vehicle. After passing through several heavily guarded gates, Pei Ran faintly heard the voices of soldiers speaking to one another outside.
This was indeed a place where sound could be made.
She hadn’t spoken for several days—her vocal cords seemed to have already forgotten their function, and remaining silent had become a habit.
Pei Ran tried to speak.
“Black Well.”
Her voice sounded strange, and as if there were some aftereffects, her own voice echoed in her eardrums, inexplicably loud to the point of being frightening. Her heart clenched and began pounding uncontrollably.
Three seconds passed. Nothing happened.
Pei Ran softly repeated again.
“Black Well.”
Then she called out in her heart: “W?”
Pei Ran had already sorted out her thoughts. She understood all of his well-intentioned efforts.
He had said before that Black Well demanded his immediate return. Some people still worried she might mutate and were not too eager for her to enter Black Well.
That’s why, just now on the aircraft, he had deliberately not avoided CT122’s muzzle.
Destroying the metal sphere was the best option at that moment.
If the metal sphere still existed, whether he disobeyed orders to stay with her or truly left her to return to Black Well, the storage unit would, in name, still be his possession.
If she had taken the storage unit from the sphere and used it to negotiate with Black Well, she would become the villain who stole it for personal gain.
But the sphere exploded—objectively, and unrelated to her—so she instantly transformed into a hero who had protected and rescued a critical piece of storage.
With that single explosion, he rescued himself from a dilemma and firmly placed her on the moral high ground, making her entry into Black Well fully justified.
This broken sphere sure thought things through.
The metal sphere was probably just a robot he controlled. Given how well he understood everything happening in Black Well, chances were high that his main body was actually in Black Well. She didn’t know whether he could still receive the signals her brain was sending.
With no reply in her ears for a long while, Pei Ran continued looking out the car window.
On the roads of Black Well, nearly everyone was dressed in uniformed military attire, and all the vehicles were military vehicles—painted in camouflage colors of army green and sandy brown.
Suddenly, Pei Ran saw a pure black antique car.
This unusual black car came up from behind, driving alongside the armored vehicle. But the armored vehicle immediately slowed down and made way, allowing it to pass.
To think even military vehicles would give way—Pei Ran couldn’t help but press herself against the car window, straining to see outside.
On the door of that black car, there was a distinct emblem—an iris with three flower heads.
At first glance, the three flower heads grew from one single stem, like an upright fork.
This design looked very familiar.
Pei Ran remembered—on the inside cover of Shige Ye’s black notebook, the exact same golden emblem was printed.
A chill ran through her heart. She stared once more at the car, but it quickly sped ahead.
Soon after, another identical black antique car followed and passed, except this one didn’t have the three-headed iris emblem on its body. Immediately after came a third one.
The rear window of the third antique car suddenly began to slowly roll down.
A fiery red head of hair came into view.
Pei Ran quickly drew back, hiding from the small window, her heart pounding wildly.
It was Hai Po.
The expert who had followed Shige Ye and knew the structure of the metal sphere like the back of her hand.
Red hair, dark brows and eyes—it was definitely her. Pei Ran couldn’t be mistaken. And sitting beside her was that clawed man whose mechanical arm had instantly detached when she pulled on him.
Shige Ye was already dead. How could they have come to Black Well?
And they’d arrived so quickly—almost at the same speed as her own journey on the Yehai No. 7.
Hai Po’s gaze had just fallen on the central plaza’s large screen, where Pei Ran’s 3D image was slowly rotating.
They would definitely recognize her.
Grudges from the road had actually followed her into Black Well.
Even more frightening was what W had once said: Shige Ye’s identity was highly unusual—not even found in the Federation’s citizen database. Now, looking at it, the person in that first black antique car must also be someone with a very special status.
She had no idea what the emblem of the three-headed iris meant, but it must carry significant weight.
Unfortunately, W wasn’t here—she couldn’t ask him. If he were, a question like this would be answered instantly.
The three black cars quickly overtook the armored vehicle and drove away.
The armored vehicle left the central plaza and entered a street, continuing forward until it finally arrived at a heavily fortified building.
At the base of the building was a tall, transparent protective wall. A gate made of the same material slowly opened.
Inside the wall, a squad of armed soldiers immediately approached like they were facing a dire threat, weapons in hand. Each of them was fully covered from head to toe in that iridescent “soap film.”
Someone opened the vehicle door, and Pei Ran stepped out.
Behind the soap film, all the soldiers’ eyes were on her. They cautiously kept their distance, as if she might turn into a monster at any second.
At the entrance of the building, a young woman with black hair came down the steps.
She wore a military uniform, and judging by her shoulder insignia, she held the rank of lieutenant general. She wasn’t wearing the isolating “soap film” and was walking briskly toward the armored vehicle.
Someone immediately stepped forward, seeming to speak in a low voice: “Lieutenant General, for safety’s sake, you shouldn’t go any closer.”
She stopped a few steps away, looking at Pei Ran. Her stern brows and eyes carried a faint trace of a smile.
“You’re Pei Ran, right? I’m Song Wan. Welcome to Black Well.”
The sensation of hearing someone else speak felt incredibly strange. Pei Ran stared at her without responding, only nodding slightly.
Song Wan continued with a longer sentence: “Marshal Vina is occupied, so I came to receive you. You’ll stay at the quarantine center for now. We’ll assign you a dedicated medical team and hope to control the mutation.”
She paused, then added, “That storage unit—can you hand it over to me now?”
Pei Ran took the small storage device from her pocket.
A soldier in isolation gear came over, received the storage unit, and handed it to Song Wan.
Song Wan carefully put the storage away and said to Pei Ran, “It’s been a hard journey. The quarantine room is ready—go get some rest.”
A fully armed captain, showing only a pair of eyes, stepped forward and led Pei Ran up the steps toward the elevator.
The elevator looked solid and spacious—capable of holding dozens of people without issue—but only the captain went up with her.
He appeared very young, holding his gun firmly in both hands and keeping a few steps away from her at all times. Occasionally, he would steal a glance at her, but the moment he saw her looking back, he would immediately avert his eyes.
There were no buttons in the elevator. It was as if it already knew where they were headed, beginning its ascent automatically, then stopping and opening its doors.
The captain guided Pei Ran out, using his iris scan to unlock one security door after another, until finally stopping in front of a door and opening it.
Pei Ran was a little surprised.
Judging from the setup along the way, it had felt like they were going to lock her in some terrifying prison.
But behind the door was, unexpectedly, an apartment that looked completely normal.
It was even tidier and more spacious than her small apartment in White Harbor City.
The captain gestured for her to enter.
He spoke: “This is the quarantine room. You’ll be staying here for now. If you need anything, use the intercom at the door to contact the quarantine center administration. Because we need to monitor for mutations, there are surveillance cameras throughout the room. If you need to change clothes, you can do so in the bathroom. If you’re hungry, there are prepared snacks in the kitchen cabinets, but dinner time is coming soon.”
He had said quite a long sentence—if it were outside, who knew how many times she would’ve died by now. Pei Ran nodded.
The place looked clean and normal, but it was still a prison.
The captain continued: “Get some good rest. If tomorrow morning you still…”
He paused.
Pei Ran silently finished the sentence in her mind: If tomorrow morning you’re still alive.
These people’s looks toward her were easy to understand: regret, sympathy—like she was going to die at any moment.
The captain skipped the second half of that sentence: “…the medical team’s specialists will come and give you a full-body examination.”
The captain turned to leave, but then paused again.
He looked back, his clear eyes meeting Pei Ran’s. After a moment of hesitation, he added:
“The northern front has already launched a full counterattack. Everyone here knows—it was you who saved Black Well.”
After saying that, he seemed a little awkward, and this time truly turned to leave in a hurry. But Pei Ran called him back.
“Hey.”
Pei Ran tried to speak to someone: “What’s your name?”
It was as if a kind of aftereffect lingered—speaking had become difficult. Making her vocal cords vibrate required determination. Hearing her own voice still made her heart pound, adrenaline spike, and her palms go numb.
The captain stopped in his tracks. A suspicious flush appeared on the strip of skin below his eyes.
“My name is Lin Yu,” he replied. “If you need anything, you can contact me directly through the intercom.”
“If you feel unwell,” he subconsciously scanned Pei Ran up and down, a bit more worry in his gaze, “you can also reach out to me.”
Pei Ran thought to herself: Call you over so I can absorb you into my body and make you part of the fusion entity too?
But she still nodded.
Captain Lin Yu left. With a soft thud, the door locked automatically.
Pei Ran scanned the space.
The quarantine room was a suite, divided into an inner and outer area. The inner area was a bedroom, and the outer was a living room. Like an ordinary apartment, it had a bathroom—and even a small kitchen.
But unlike an ordinary apartment, the ceiling was much higher, and not a single room had any windows.
It was a completely sealed box.
All the walls were painted pure white, but the texture looked different from regular walls, with a special kind of sheen.
Pei Ran casually knocked on it.
The sound that came back was the echo of tapping on metal, with a slight reverberation. Pei Ran pressed the fingers of her mechanical hand against it and applied a bit of force—the wall didn’t budge at all, not even slightly.
It was quite a sturdy metal box.
Only then did she take a full tour of the apartment.
Captain Lin Yu had been right—there were bright, fully exposed surveillance cameras everywhere on the ceiling. The small black spherical cameras even turned slightly as she moved. The bathroom, at least on the surface, appeared to have no cameras.
The living room sofa had cushions laid on top, but it was actually part of the metal floor that jutted upward. The dining table and chairs extended directly from the wall and couldn’t be moved.
The bed in the bedroom wasn’t so much a bed as it was a raised platform fused to the floor. But it had proper bedding and pillows—it wasn’t cold.
The adjacent wardrobe was deeply embedded in the wall. Inside were two sets of spare clothes, both light gray uniforms that looked a lot like one-piece coveralls.
In short, there was absolutely no movable or detached furniture in the room.
Which was actually a good thing. If she really did turn into the kind of fusion entity W had described—like that deranged major who could fuse with anything—then there wouldn’t be much here she could absorb. Unless she fused with the room itself.
She wondered what it would feel like to become a room.
The kitchen followed the same design: fully integrated. A device resembling an oven was embedded in the wall—it looked like she was supposed to cook for herself, though Pei Ran had no idea how to use it.
Next to it was a cupboard door embedded in the wall—probably the snack cabinet Lin Yu had mentioned.
Pei Ran casually pulled it open—and froze.
Inside was a neat, perfectly arranged row of potato chips.
Like they were awaiting inspection, lined up in formation. All kinds of colorful packaging, all sorts of flashy flavors—some Pei Ran had eaten before, and some she hadn’t.
The compartment beneath the chips was filled with bottled mineral water.
So much water—probably in case she got constipated.
Pei Ran looked at the chips for a while and then curled her lips into a small smile.
Ever since the metal sphere had been blown to pieces, the rational part of her had already figured everything out. But the emotional part had always been floating—never landing.
Now, it had finally come back down to earth.
Pei Ran picked up a bag of potato chips and thought: The chips have arrived, but what about the promised medicine?
Back when they were negotiating, W had said that he was a Federal Security Agent with top-level authority to access Black Well’s reserve medications. He had guaranteed that once they reached Black Well, he would provide her with enough JTN34.
Judging by what he said, he could even mix the medicine himself. If she managed to survive the night without mutating, she hoped he wouldn’t forget to give her the meds.
Then she saw the medicine.
Right behind the army of potato chips, tucked away, was row after row of familiar white medicine boxes.
Pei Ran pulled one out.
Printed on the box was “JTN34.” W had kept his word.
Pei Ran counted—there were twenty-four boxes in total. Each box held a one-month supply, enough to last for two years.
A thought stirred in her heart. She flipped the box over and looked at the printed manufacturing and expiration dates.
The manufacturing date was recent, but the shelf life was only two years.
The two blister packs she had been carrying with her—she had long since thrown away the original box—probably had the same two-year shelf life.
The problem was: what happens after two years?
W had said that Black Well’s reserve of JTN34 was enough to last her two thousand years—if it didn’t expire. She had no idea whether Black Well currently had the capability to manufacture new JTN34.
Pei Ran figured—that was doubtful.
Even if Black Well started building a production line, the top priority would be to produce food and daily necessities. In a situation of limited resources, this niche medication—used by so few—would be the last thing on the list.
Black Well’s supply could only serve as a temporary solution. In the end, the issue of the medicine was something she’d have to rely on herself to solve.