Apocalyptic Island - Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Dr. Zhao Kangcheng’s small villa was quite conspicuous; Wen Yishu recognized it almost as soon as it appeared at the end of the street.

With robots guarding both the first and second floors, she had no intention of taking the usual route. She pulled out the rope launcher from her backpack. With a “whoosh,” the grappling hook shot out, catching firmly onto the old brick wall behind the roof. She tested the tension of the rope, fastened her harness, and began to climb.

As it turned out, her method was highly effective; Zhao Kangcheng didn’t notice a thing until she had already reached the top. Wen Yishu held back the restless String of Pearls, shattered the glass with a single punch, and leaped into the room from the window, as light as a swallow.

The attic was quite dilapidated. It was unclear if this was the original style of the guesthouse, but the old decor formed a stark contrast with the high-end equipment in the center. In front of the monitors sat a massive table covered in various foods, medicines, and piles of data drives. This was a surveillance room where Wen Yishu could see all kinds of footage from the streets.

A man, so thin he was almost unrecognizable, sat at the table. He seemed terrified by Wen Yishu’s sudden intrusion, trembling in his chair. A blue-and-white ID card hung from his chest. Wen Yishu saw the name “Zhao Kangcheng” on it. Seeing him regain his senses and try to turn and run, Wen Yishu simply shoved him back into the chair.

Having controlled him so easily, Wen Yishu held her flamethrower across her chest, aiming it at his head with a slight smile: “Dr. Zhao, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Zhao Kangcheng felt he had truly miscalculated. He hadn’t been without thoughts of moving the base elsewhere, but so many people had fallen into his traps one after another that he had relaxed his guard, thinking this small town held no real danger. Coupled with his frail body and the difficulty of moving the large, heavy equipment, he had eventually abandoned the idea of relocating.

Sure enough, such shallow defenses were breached instantly when facing someone with actual ability. His eyes flickered toward the electronic screen showing the gathering robots. He only needed a little more time; he just needed to get out of here, no matter how.

Bai Mi followed behind her, gripping the windowsill and vaulting into the room with a forceful jump. She brushed the dust off her hands and stood beside Wen Yishu: “Is it him?”

Zhao Kangcheng desperately began to deny it, trying to buy time for the robots. “Excuse me, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve broken into my home—isn’t that a bit impolite?”

Wen Yishu pointed at the monitors next to him with some surprise: “Whose home would be equipped with this to monitor the entire town? I hate liars.”

The two of them began discussing how to execute him as if no one else were in the room.

“It’s him. He’s the only living person here. A robot wouldn’t be made into such a piece of trash, right?”

Zhao Kangcheng seemed to hit a breaking point. Hearing the word “trash,” he tried forcefully to swing away Wen Yishu’s hand that was pinning him down: “Bitch! You think you can kill me? You’ve already been caught—you’re only fit to be experimental subjects!”

Wen Yishu stopped talking and turned her gaze back to Zhao Kangcheng. His hair was a mess, his hands gripped the armrests of the chair tightly, and his expression was nearly manic. Paired with his grimy black clothes, he looked like a deranged vagrant. Under the thin blanket he never left, one leg twitched incessantly due to his agitation.

Wen Yishu aimed at that leg and delivered a sudden, heavy kick. A blood-curdling scream immediately echoed through the room. Wen Yishu wasn’t someone who took pleasure in cruelty, but with someone like this, she felt there was no need for mercy.

“It’s alright, Zhao Kangcheng. If you want to die, I’ll fulfill that wish. But before that, you should pay the proper price for what you’ve done.”

Bai Mi stopped all the commands on the light screen. The robots that had advanced to the floor below all began to turn back. Reversing the commands was a basic, simple operation. Once all the robots were recalled, the two women looked with satisfaction at the look of despair on Zhao Kangcheng’s face.

“How is it? Isn’t it wonderful to feel death approaching bit by bit? The things you did to those experimental subjects—someone will eventually visit them upon you.”

The blanket slipped off Zhao Kangcheng’s body, revealing a mechanical prosthetic leg and a shriveled human leg. The shriveled leg looked a section shorter than it should be, the muscles severely atrophied like a thin bamboo pole hanging under his empty pant leg. Now, it had been broken by Wen Yishu’s kick. A mechanical prosthetic requires enough physical strength from the body to support it and function fully; clearly, Zhao Kangcheng did not meet this requirement.

He looked at the two women with eyes full of hatred, as if he could kill them with his gaze alone. Wen Yishu had originally thought she would have to go through a hard-fought battle to defeat this leader, but she hadn’t expected to subdue him so easily. She dragged Zhao Kangcheng out of the chair like a little chick; he was very light, like a puppet made only of a skeletal frame, helpless in Wen Yishu’s grip.

In Zhao Kangcheng’s eyes was utter indignation, but a sliver of hope remained in his heart. He prayed the robots below would save him, but Wen Yishu didn’t take the usual path. Holding him by the collar, she leaped down from the window.

He hadn’t been outside in a long time; the bright light stung his eyes so much he couldn’t open them, and the height of the third floor nearly scared him to death. Even the mechanical leg that required strength to support began to kick wildly.

Wen Yishu scoffed: “A piece of trash indeed.”

Regardless of his original goals, Zhao Kangcheng was like a rat in a gutter—once stripped of his technology, he became a useless waste. Due to Wen Yishu’s mockery, Zhao Kangcheng’s expression turned hideous. His sinister eyes stared fixedly at Wen Yishu and Bai Mi following behind her. He craved the vibrant life force within these two, yet he simultaneously envied and hated them.

He curled his body into a ball, making it difficult for Wen Yishu to even carry him; she was afraid he might just die instantly if she dropped him. The metal prosthetic made a crisp clack against the ground.

Bai Mi asked: “Doesn’t look like he can walk. Should we drag him over?”

Wen Yishu looked at the shivering Zhao Kangcheng, the smile on her lips deepening. She didn’t mind making this man even more terrified: “Of course. Use a rope and loop it around his neck. Since he was so brave in cursing us, I wonder how tough his bones really are.”

A sliver of true terror finally appeared in Zhao Kangcheng’s angry eyes. Wen Yishu straightened the rope, preparing to loop it over his neck.

He immediately started screaming, his previous arrogance completely gone: “No! This is murder! I’ve never killed anyone!”

Wen Yishu kicked his good leg: “Never killed anyone? All these numbered tags, yet there are only thirty or forty people below. You’re telling me you haven’t killed anyone?”

Zhao Kangcheng’s eyes flickered. He saw the woman before him flash an extremely bright smile, and then her foot ground heavily into his leg that still had sensation.

“I told you, I hate liars the most. If you can’t speak properly, then shut up. I don’t want you to die so cheaply.”

Ultimately, the two chose to drag Zhao Kangcheng away, though they didn’t let him touch the ground completely. Wen Yishu tied him up like a zongzi (rice dumpling) and placed a metal plate underneath him, dragging him all the way back to that massive guesthouse.

Passing through the robot lounge, the machines were still charging. The closer they got to the second basement level, the more violently Zhao Kangcheng struggled. For the first time, he felt an immense dread and uncertainty about the fate he was about to face, constantly questioning Wen Yishu, the leader of the pair: “What are you going to do to me? What exactly are you going to do to me!”

“Since you love research so much, you must be very happy to die as an experimental subject yourself, right?”

Zhao Kangcheng completely lost his mind this time, twisting desperately under Wen Yishu: “No, no, no! You can’t use me as a subject! I can tell you anything you want to know! This experiment is about body and soul transfer—as long as you let me go, I can help you switch to a brand-new body! You can become anyone you want!”

He finished these words in a near-manic state, his eyes reigniting with a feverish, crazed light.

Wen Yishu poured a bucket of cold water over him: “Is that so? Then why haven’t you replaced this body yet? You haven’t been satisfied with it for a long time, right?”

The Federation had strict controls over mechanical prosthetics; someone like Zhao Kangcheng might not be able to apply for one even if they had money, as such things were reserved for those who could actually use them. His physical strength was clearly insufficient to support the use of a prosthetic; otherwise, he would have run while Wen Yishu was still outside the window.

Zhao Kangcheng’s face turned pale, and the cold, blue light hitting his face made him look even more like a corpse.

In the basement, the people on the brackets were still in a deep sleep, their eyelids fluttering rapidly, immersed in an abyss-like dreamscape from which they could never wake. Wen Yishu walked to the bracket she had been on previously and placed Zhao Kangcheng upon it. He tried to scramble off instantly, but the agile bracket restrained him in a flash.

With a few “clacks,” this weakling was locked in place, unable to move. Wen Yishu pulled a vial from her pocket and, like feeding a goose, shoved the reagent—tube and all—directly into his mouth. He watched in despair as the blue liquid flowed uncontrollably into his throat and closed his eyes, knowing it was all over.

A curved neural-link cable extended from the bracket and pierced into the cartilage behind Zhao Kangcheng’s ear. His eyelids closed uncontrollably, his eyeballs rolled rapidly, and he fell into a deep sleep.

Wen Yishu led Bai Mi out of the second basement level and up toward the maintenance room. Since the brackets were here, the reading room couldn’t be far. Before leaving, she wanted to release everyone here; she didn’t want these innocent people to be buried with Zhao Kangcheng.

The mechanical maintenance room wasn’t far. The patrol robot they had dealt with was still lying on the floor. Since the robots had come out earlier, it had now become a true pile of scrap metal, flattened against the floor.

The String of Pearls quickly broke the lock with brute force, and the two entered the maintenance room one after another. This room’s four walls were covered in large holographic screens, displaying one dream sequence after another—or rather, the memories of everyone in the basement.

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