The green light collapsed behind them in a roaring implosion.
There was no deafening blast, only an ultra-high-frequency whine that stabbed at the eardrums.
The gray-white fog let out thousands of wails like a newborn’s cries, force-evaporated by that pure, viridian glow.
Then, even those sounds faded.
The corridor sank back into gloom.
Jiang Nuan clung to Qinian’s arm with all her might, using the shockwave’s push to scramble and tumble through the narrow passageway toward the exit.
Qinian stumbled mechanically behind her, his usually sharp, aggressive upturned eyes now drooping, pupils dilated and unfocused—like a machine still running but abandoned by its operator.
“Qinian, hurry.”
Her voice was hoarse, almost unrecognizable.
Vision slowly returned in the dim light, blurred silhouettes surfacing from the chaos bit by bit.
The overhead lights were almost all dead. The brightest source was a sliver of gray daylight leaking in from the far end of the passage.
The deck direction.
Her heart pounded against her ribs. Just get through this tunnel, climb the spiral stairs to the upper deck, fire the flare, and the helicopter would come.
Then, as they passed a four-way intersection in the corridor—
The nauseating stench of seawater in the air suddenly spiked exponentially.
Qinian slammed to a halt.
Something instinctive took over his blank consciousness. He yanked Jiang Nuan behind him.
“Stop!”
Footsteps.
Many pairs of feet, striking the metal floor.
Steady. Rhythmic.
Jiang Nuan’s back was soaked in cold sweat in an instant.
On both sides of the passage, the darkness was writhing.
The gray-white fog seeped out anew from cracks in the floor, gaps in the walls, seams in the ceiling, advancing visibly.
And at the fog’s leading edge, the figures appeared again.
Crew uniforms.
Researchers in white lab coats.
They walked in a line, step-for-step, toward them.
Smiles still plastered on their faces.
The same smiles from when they first saw them on deck.
Warm. Relieved. “Finally, rescue has come” smiles.
Some had chests blown completely open, no organs inside—only a squirming mass of black tentacles crawling out of the flesh, flailing wildly in the air.
“Heh… heh heh heh…”
The sound of bones snapping out of joint came from every direction.
“We’re surrounded.” Jiang Nuan’s heart plummeted into a frozen well.
“Get back.”
Qinian shoved her toward the wall.
The next second—
A thunderous CRACK!
Crimson flames erupted from Qinian’s body, soaring skyward!
This wasn’t the precise, controlled fire he used in combat. This was a fully unhinged, raging sea of flames!
The searing heat vacuumed the oxygen out of the passage in an instant, and the metal bulkheads around them began to glow a dull red under the extreme temperature.
Qinian moved.
Like a madman, he charged straight into the fog, straight at those things!
She drew the sidearm from her belt, gripped it with both hands, and fired wildly at the twisted shadows in the mist.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Armor-piercing rounds detonated on the monsters, splattering black ichor. But against mutants that felt no pain, it did nothing.
She tried to channel the small stream of power inside her. The force surged out, but striking bodies made of fog, it was nowhere near enough.
Qinian’s fighting style was pure, reckless trade—flesh for flesh, life for life.
A thick tentacle lashed out like a whip toward his face. He didn’t dodge.
He let it slam into his left shoulder, flesh tearing open, blood spraying.
But he used that momentum, his left hand snapping out to seize the tentacle in a death grip, while his right palm condensed a blade of pure white-hot compressed flame and drove it straight into the mutated crewman’s cracked-open chest.
“DIE!” Qinian roared, flames flooding into the monster’s body through the blade.
With a dull thud, the mutant was incinerated from the inside out.
But more surged forward.
Three mutant crewmen lunged at him at once.
One bit into his calf. One wrapped tentacles around his waist. One opened its maw wide and lunged for his throat.
Qinian abandoned all defense.
He let the monsters’ teeth rend his flesh, pouring every ounce of his power outward without reservation. Rings of fire exploded outward from him, one after another, searing everything they touched.
Injuries for injuries. Lives for lives.
A massive mutant dropped silently from the ceiling, hooking down like a spider, its two sickle-shaped forelimbs spearing toward Qinian’s back.
“Watch out!” Jiang Nuan fired. The bullets connected, slowing the thing by half a second.
Qinian spun around, arms crossed in front of his chest, and took the blow head-on.
SHLUNK!
The sickles punched through his forearms, hurling him backward, sending his whole body flying.
Qinian traced a parabola through the air and slammed hard at Jiang Nuan’s feet.
“QINIAN!”
She threw herself at him, leveling her gun at the remaining monsters.
His blood splattered across the back of her hand. It was boiling hot.
“Defend yourself! You can’t fight like this! You’re going to get yourself killed!”
Qinian lay on the ground, chest heaving unevenly.
The blood on his face was smeared by sweat. Those bright, defiant eyes had lost their focus now, veiled by a gray, dying film.
He coughed up a mouthful of blood mixed with shreds of his organs, yet still dragged his lips into a bitter, crooked smile.
“Can’t dodge anymore…”
He murmured, his voice so light it might have been a sigh.
The fog ahead drew closer. The charred remains of the monsters rapidly re-formed in the mist. More mutants climbed over their fallen comrades, closing in slow.
They didn’t rush the attack.
Like savoring prey in its final throes.
The escape route was sealed tight.
Qinian struggled to push himself upright, sitting up.
He didn’t look at the monsters.
Instead, he turned his head and stared fixedly at Jiang Nuan.
His gaze was strange—no trace of the earlier savagery or madness, none of his usual flippancy or cruelty.
It was a look of absolute calm, tinged with something almost like tenderness.
Suddenly, he reached out with blood-soaked hands and pulled Jiang Nuan into his arms.
Jiang Nuan froze completely.
Qinian’s body temperature was terrifyingly high. His chin rested on her shoulder, his arms wrapped around her so tightly she could feel the heartbeat inside his chest growing weaker, each beat its last.
One. Then another. The intervals stretching longer.
“Jiang Nuan…”
His voice was rough, carrying a strange gentleness.
“My brother’s gone. And I can’t hold on anymore.”
“Don’t say that! The deck is right ahead!” Jiang Nuan shouted through gritted teeth, though her heart had no confidence at all.
He released her, looked her straight in the eyes.
“What if…” he said, very softly, “what if we hadn’t been born into this world? Wouldn’t that have been better?”
Jiang Nuan’s heart twisted in her chest.
"I... once saw a record from an old era, in some place," Qinian's speech slowed down. "That record... was pretty boring."
"There was a girl... a college student from that era."
Jiang Nuan's breath hitched for a moment.
A college student?
Qinian's voice continued,
"She didn't have to spend every day in constant fear of killing monsters, or worrying about being corrupted. Her biggest daily worry... was just what to eat at the cafeteria after class... or getting into a fight with a friend."
He paused, and the curve of his lips softened slightly.
"There's a dish called braised chicken rice... I'd really like to taste it someday."
Jiang Nuan's breathing stopped.
"After eating, she'd go for a walk on the sports field. So boring... and yet so enviable..."
Jiang Nuan stood frozen as if struck by lightning, a ringing noise flooding her ears.
[How is this possible...? How?!]
This was exactly the same as her memories from before she crossed over?
These memories—so vivid and real, the ones that had kept her clinging to life in this garbage world—why were they appearing in an old-era record in this world?!
A horrifying thought began to spiral wildly in her mind.
What if her "past-life memories"... weren't real past lives?
What if that college student named "Jiang Nuan"—
She wanted to ask Qinian more.
A massive force sent Jiang Nuan staggering back several steps, her back slamming hard against the cabin wall.
Qinian turned around, his back facing her.
He slowly straightened his body.
At that moment, his already ashen face suddenly lit up like a final burst of life.
His whole body seemed to be wrapped in flames, erupting with a blinding crimson light ten times brighter than before!
It was as if he were burning his own life away.
"BOOM—!!!"
A wall of fire, several meters high and nearly sealing off the entire corridor, rose from beneath Qinian's feet with a thunderous roar!
The fire wall stood like a solid rampart, holding back the mutated monsters that surged forward on the other side.
At the same time, a fierce tongue of fire swept forward, incinerating the creatures blocking the stairway to the deck in an instant.
The heat warped the air into complete distortion, and the monsters' screams rose and fell in the sea of flames.
Qinian stood before the fire wall, his silhouette in the blaze looking so frail, yet so unshakable.
"Qinian! What are you doing?!"
Suddenly realizing what was happening, Jiang Nuan tried to rush toward him, but the terrifying heat of the fire wall forced her back.
The young man did not turn around.
Standing in the raging inferno, his voice pierced through the roar of the flames and the howls of the monsters, reaching Jiang Nuan's ears with perfect clarity.
"Get to the deck and fire the signal flare."
"Run forward."
"Don't look back."
