Doomsday Wonderland

"Take us down?"

Dreadlocks, who was usually meek and resigned around Lin Sanjiu, adopted a different demeanor when addressing ordinary people. He planted one hand on his hip and smiled as he asked, "How do you plan to take us down? With mutations?"

Hagrid shot a glare from the window so heavy it could have been a slap.

"We can't mutate, and we have nothing to do with the mutants, believe it or not," he rasped. "But you think just because we can't mutate, we're helpless? We've spent day and night working alongside you posthumans, watching your movements, listening to your conversations. We probably know you better than you know yourselves. Ever heard the saying, 'Your butler is more dangerous than your enemy'?"

Dreadlocks froze for a moment, apparently caught off guard by the response. He sneered and muttered, not caring who heard, "These ordinary people really have no clue about combat power. I'd like to see them try—"

Eight-Heads De clapped a hand on his shoulder, cutting off the rest of his sentence.

Lin Sanjiu didn't need to hear more to know what Dreadlocks was about to say. Eight-Heads De seemed determined to stay on his path, refusing to adjust his stance, no matter how suspicious his declarations of sincerity seemed to everyone else.

"I would never harm ordinary people," Eight-Heads De insisted. "I know you're facing danger and hardship right now. Let me help you—"

As expected.

When Eight-Heads De finished speaking, the expression on Hagrid's face was anything but convinced. Even to call him half-believing would be generous. "Why do you want to help us? What do you gain from it? You're a posthuman, and when it really comes to—"

A sharp whistle cut through the air, abruptly silencing him.

"Eight-Heads De is here! Everyone, come over!"

The voice rang out like a siren, startling Lin Sanjiu. It came from nearby, but the person who sounded the alarm had crept up so silently that she hadn't noticed them at all.

She turned her head in time to see a round, white eyeball rapidly ascending into the sky. If she remembered correctly, it was a reconnaissance device produced by the Munitions Factory. She hadn't expected it to also have an alarm function.

A sharp "crack" followed, and the eyeball shattered like glass, pieces tumbling into the weeds below.

Lin Sanjiu retracted her strand of Higher Consciousness and turned to Eight-Heads De. "We should go. It looks like they're about to swarm in."

With her protection, it wouldn't be easy for anyone to harm Eight-Heads De, but unless absolutely necessary, Lin Sanjiu didn't want to get embroiled in a fight for someone whose actions were hard to justify.

Eight-Heads De clenched his mouth, hesitation flashing across his face. The muscles along his jaw tightened. "Fine. Which way should we go?"

"You don't have a plan?" Lin Sanjiu was surprised. She hadn't expected him to ask her, an outsider.

"Behind us are the mutant claws; ahead are the posthumans." Eight-Heads De glanced around quickly. By now, Hagrid's face had disappeared from the window. He gestured in front of him and said, "If we move to the sides, the paths on both sides connect with this one, occupied by the ordinary people. They're essentially the same route. None of our three options look good."

Lin Sanjiu's gaze flicked to Zhong Qing, who still wore his usual indifferent expression, like someone who just did the job he was paid for. But Dreadlocks was another story; his eyes darted between the posthumans in front of them and the escape routes, his feet shuffling back subtly, clearly hoping to slip away in the confusion.

"Between two evils, choose the lesser; between three, the same applies. Let's go into the ordinary people's territory."

Lin Sanjiu made the decision just as several figures leaped from the distant wall, their light and swift footsteps closing in on them. She grabbed Eight-Heads De, signaled Zhong Qing to follow, and turned to sprint toward the left side of the wall. Eight-Heads De, showing a rare moment of goodwill, pulled Dreadlocks along, urging, "Come on!"

Dreadlocks stumbled, glanced toward the distance, and finally followed, his steps heavy with reluctance.

1

To enter the alleyway from outside, one would either need to dismantle the wall or leap through one of the openings at the top of the path. Chimeric City's windows were merely small holes dug into the brickwork, far too narrow for a person to fit through.

After running along the wall for a while, they soon found themselves trapped in a dead end. The path curved in front of them, forming a fork where it intersected with another alleyway that led uphill. Lin Sanjiu could easily jump up to the higher path, but she wasn't sure if the others could manage it. Just as she turned to signal them, she saw figures descending from the air not far away. The pursuers had arrived.

Leading them was a man wearing colorful sunglasses and a loose robe of an indeterminate style. Without a word, he rolled up his sleeve, and a gust of wind burst from his cuff, forming a giant mouth in the air that shot straight for Eight-Heads De's back.

"Get down!" Lin Sanjiu shouted.

When it came to controlling wind and air currents, she was no novice. As Eight-Heads De dove to the ground, Lin Sanjiu spun her left hand, generating a vortex that clashed head-on with the incoming wind. The two air currents collided mid-air and exploded into a shockwave that radiated in all directions. As the pressure dissipated, the man with the sunglasses cried out in alarm and leaped sideways, yelling, "Who? Who ambushed me?"

Ambushed? Lin Sanjiu froze for a moment.

Then she understood.

Several black metal tubes had quietly emerged from the windows occupied by ordinary people. At first glance, they resembled gun barrels.

"Posthumans, get out of here!" came the muffled roar of Hagrid from behind the wall.

It sounded like a command. At his shout, those holding the black tubes pulled their triggers. Powerful jets of water shot out. Wrist-thick streams of gray water pierced the air, aimed squarely at the man with sunglasses and the posthumans behind him. Mist quickly spread, smearing the sky with a murky gray.

Because Lin Sanjiu's group was tucked into a corner, they were just out of the water's reach. Dreadlocks turned to watch the scene and muttered, "Seriously? Do they think water guns can defeat posthumans?"

A young woman raised her hand to block several of the gray water jets. Water splashed and danced on the leather armor covering her palm, soaking her shoulder. "Ordinary people?" she sneered, flicking her hand. "This is like child's play. They think this can—"

She paused and looked down at her hand.

Lin Sanjiu realized the problem a moment before the young woman did. After all, she'd once traversed the Black Lake herself.

"It's smog water!" the girl screamed as if scalded by acid, flailing her hand and stumbling backward. "They're crazy! They're using smog water!"

But her warning came too late. Her companions had already been thoroughly drenched.

Dodging a single water jet wasn't difficult. Dodging several at once was only slightly harder. The real problem was avoiding the water while in a group; everyone was simultaneously blocking, dodging, and leaping in different directions. The chaotic spray broke any predictable patterns, causing the jets to splash randomly. In the end, everyone got wet.

Lin Sanjiu glanced at Dreadlocks, who, having been promoted to unofficial guide, quickly explained, "Our water is drawn straight from the base of the mountain, but when it's pumped up, it inevitably contains smog along with it. That's why it's stored in sealed barrels and purified before use. The people who handle this job are all ordinary humans."

1

"We still have dozens of barrels of smog water!" Hagrid shouted from behind the wall. "If you don't leave now, we won't hesitate to use it all!"

One of the posthumans, visibly intimidated by the smog, took several steps back. When another stream of water splashed near his feet, he turned and fled.

"Eight-Heads De!" The man in the colorful sunglasses angrily swiped at the water on his body and hissed toward the group huddled in the corner. "So, you've been colluding with the ordinary people all along? So what if it's smog water? Plenty of us have protective gear!"

Eight-Heads De, like Dreadlocks and Zhong Qing, covered his nose and mouth, afraid that the smog-laden mist might enter his lungs. He shouted in a muffled voice, "No, it's not me—"

But, unfortunately, the other side neither planned nor had the chance to listen to his explanation.

The ordinary people in the alley seemed far too panicked, spraying smog water as if it weren't enough. As someone blew a whistle, a heavy object rumbled down the hillside. The posthumans, who had been merely wary, looked up and turned pale. At the cry of "It's a mutant, get out of the way!" they leaped up the walls and vanished one by one in a series of jumps.

What was going on?

Could ordinary people command mutants?

Lin Sanjiu activated her [Defense Forcefield], leaped out of the corner, and rushed up the slope toward the sound. The posthumans were right; a wave of intertwined human limbs was rolling from the destroyed bridge toward the hillside like a tsunami. The dust, smoke, and debris it kicked up made it impossible to see clearly.

"Come back, we need to go!" Eight-Heads De called out, seemingly spotting the oncoming mutant wave as well.

Lin Sanjiu spread her arms, swiftly generating two large air vortices. With a powerful thrust, she sent the swirling winds straight into the wave of limbs. The collision of the vortex with the wave produced the expected shock and tremor, and soon the movement slowed to a halt.

4

Countless thin arms, connected end to end, collapsed like dead snakes after being stopped. They drooped down the hillside, fingers twitching and curling slightly, their energy and menace completely gone.

Looking up, Lin Sanjiu saw several figures fleeing from the top of the slope, their movements clumsy and panicked as they disappeared into nearby alleyways.

"It's over!" she called, glancing at the now-quiet alley. The black water tubes had already been withdrawn from the windows.

"What... what just happened?" Dreadlocks peeked out from the corner of the slope, his voice trembling.

"You can come and see for yourselves. These are discarded mutant limbs." Lin Sanjiu resisted a wave of nausea and pointed to the mass of lifeless arms held back by her air vortex. "I think the ordinary people gathered the mutant parts and just pushed them down the slope. Look, there's even an eyelash mixed in."

"So the ability to shed mutant parts isn't unique to that young man with the injured eye? That's troubling. It means they can switch between two forms at will." Despite his words, Zhong Qing strolled along leisurely, as if taking a post-dinner walk. "What do we do now? Are we leaving?"

"Wait!"

Everyone turned to see Hagrid's face reappear behind the window.

"Eight-Heads De, those posthumans... were they chasing you?" His tone was serious as he fixed his gaze on Eight-Heads De. "I heard them say you were colluding with us... What's going on? Was what you said true? You really don't mean us any harm?"

Eight-Heads De let out a long breath and, with a thud, sank to the ground. He looked at Hagrid with a weary smile and said, "Finally, someone believes me."

3

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