Chapter Seventy-Five: The Secret Base

Tap... tap... tap...

Ferren walked slowly down the corridor, raising his head to gaze at the hall ahead, the flickering lights illuminating his path. Scattered paper fragments littered the floor, and a faint scent of smoke lingered in the air—clear evidence that the others had departed only minutes before. It seemed they understood they could no longer hold out and had chosen to leave decisively.

He had to admit, these people were quite capable. Ferren had seen countless rulers of settlements wracked by indecision. In the wastelands of the apocalypse, each settlement was a little kingdom unto itself. Most rulers would never abandon their domain, wealth, and everything they owned so willingly; many would rather perish alongside their settlement than accept defeat. Yet the Federation clearly harbored no such sentiment. Their withdrawal had been swift and clean, leaving nothing behind, and it was obvious they had taken everything of value. Such readiness suggested contingency plans had long been in place for emergencies like this.

How interesting.

With a smile, Ferren lifted his gaze, issuing a command.

“Krona, turn on the lights.”

“Ah, yes... Commander!”

The sudden order startled Krona, but she responded hastily. Closing her eyes, she activated her psychic sense, and figures formed from light appeared upon Ferren’s retina.

“So, that’s where they are.”

Looking down at the figures busy moving supplies and evacuating personnel, Ferren squinted, then raised his surgical knife, flipping it and gripping it tightly. Holding the blade upside down, he lifted it high, and with his movement, a dark brilliance shimmered along its sharp edge.

Blade of Ruin, activate.

“Hurry, hurry, don’t stop! Get everything loaded!”

In the tunnel nearby, a Federation officer barked orders, sweat streaming down his face as soldiers rushed to haul documents and supplies. The underground passage had once served as a train depot for the town, but now the Federation used it as a secret base entrance. The opposite end of the tunnel, miles away, was completely sealed off by the Federation. If they wished, they could depart from here at a moment’s notice. Yet the officer was frustrated—the revered researchers, treated like elders, were making no move to leave. He had sent for them, only to hear they insisted on finishing one last experiment and demanded everyone wait.

Experiment, my foot!

He cursed furiously at their reply, but was powerless—these people held high positions in the Federation, far beyond his reach. No matter his dissatisfaction, he had to endure it. Still, waiting indefinitely was no solution; no one knew what was happening above, and if the enemy discovered them, everything would be lost. At that moment...

The officer gritted his teeth and pulled a soldier aside.

“You, take a squad to the lab! Tell them to finish their experiment within three minutes. After three minutes, regardless of completion, bring them back—by any means necessary, even if you have to knock them out. Understood? If they ask, say it’s Director Del’s order—they must obey unconditionally!”

“Yes, sir!”

The soldier snapped to attention, saluted, and turned to leave. But just then, a thunderous crash echoed as the tunnel ceiling collapsed nearby—a massive round stone plummeted down, smashing onto the convoy below. The busy workers never expected disaster to fall so suddenly, and chaos erupted instantly.

The stone smashed through vehicles and people alike, explosions, screams, and cries merging into a cacophony. The officer, moments ago shouting commands, stood frozen, staring in disbelief at the fiery destruction before him. He racked his brain, unable to fathom how such calamity could arise. Yet, as a soldier, he quickly sensed the danger.

“Careful, there’s—”

He never finished. Two surgical knives shot from the smoke, piercing the throats of both him and the soldier beside him. They stood stunned, uttered strange, muffled sounds, then collapsed, lifeless.

“Who would’ve thought—the Federation did a decent job here...”

Ferren let his hand fall, scanning the passage. He dodged aside as a hail of bullets flew past him. Without even looking, he flicked his hand forward—the gunfire ceased abruptly. A machine gunner across the way clutched his neck, eyes wide, and fell dead. The covering soldiers on either side were stunned, staring at their comrade’s corpse before hastily aiming their weapons. But before they could target him, Ferren activated Shadow Step, darting forward in a flurry of afterimages. His surgical knife traced elegant, fluid arcs through the air, slicing both soldiers into pieces.

“Enemy! We’re under attack!”

Others soon realized what was happening, screaming and raising their weapons to fight back. Yet Ferren moved even faster—as they lifted their guns, Ferren crouched low, surging forward like a panther. The nearest soldier had no time to pull the trigger; his vision blurred, and Ferren’s smiling face appeared before him. A silver blade flashed upward, severing his hands and rifle, then slicing his throat and unleashing a crimson spray.

“Ahhhhhh!”

Watching their comrade fall, the remaining soldiers retreated in panic. But Ferren smiled, crossing his hands and squeezing tightly—several silver, gleaming blades appeared between his fingers like a predator’s claws. With a flick, the knives flew, each finding its mark in the throats of the soldiers, ending their lives instantly.

Hoo...

When the last corpse hit the ground, Ferren straightened, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, savoring the air tinged with blood and fetid stench. He shuddered like an addict finally indulged, then opened his eyes with a blissful smile, surveying the carnage. As if admiring a masterpiece, he gazed at his handiwork, finally nodding in satisfaction. Turning, he looked to the other side—a female researcher in a white lab coat sat on the floor, pale-faced and staring at the scene in terror. The documents she had clutched lay scattered, but she cared nothing for them now, only curling into the corner, trembling as she faced the black-clad reaper before her.

Ferren seemed unconcerned. He approached with a gentle smile, bent down, gathered the fallen documents, organized them, and handed them back to her.

“Miss, you dropped these.”

Her face drained of color as she stared at the papers offered to her. She bit her lip, fearfully raising her gaze to Ferren. She tried to speak, but her tongue failed her, unable to form words. All she could do was reach out, trembling, to accept the documents.

“A female researcher? Oh, forgive me—I didn’t expect to find someone as young and beautiful among them... May I ask, are you a Federation employee?”

Ferren’s expression was friendly and calm, as if he were merely making conversation with a stranger—if one ignored the bodies and wreckage strewn about, this would make a classic scene for single men to study the art of flirting.

“Yes... yes, sir...”

Though uncertain of Ferren’s intentions, the woman nodded, stammering her reply.

“I’m a member of Federation Base Zero... Please, believe me, I’m just an external member. I don’t know what they’re researching, I don’t know any details—I’m merely peripheral, please, I beg you, let me go...”

“No need to be so nervous, miss. Relax, I mean you no harm.”

Seeing her nearly burst into tears, Ferren’s smile softened further. He reached out, gently caressing her cheek like a lover would. She trembled at his touch, unable to move, standing rigid as a statue. Ferren’s hand slid from her face to her neck, to her collarbone, and then lower, resting upon a soft place. Flushed with embarrassment, she watched as Ferren withdrew his hand, holding an ID card he had taken.

“Hm... Ada, a lovely name... Well, Miss Ada, would you mind telling me where the others are?”

“This...”

Ada hesitated, dropping her gaze to speak softly.

“The supervisor is in the secret laboratory, with Professor Krent, conducting the final experiment... The others are all...”

She glanced at the collapsed tunnel nearby, saying no more—though none was needed.

“Where’s the secret laboratory?”

“Follow this corridor to the end, then turn right—it’s there...”

“Excellent. Thank you for your help, miss.”

Ferren smiled and nodded, then reattached the badge to her chest—drawing a bloodstained surgical knife.

“Well then, I’ll take my leave.”

He spun the knife, flicking off the blood, pressed his hat brim low, smiled at her again, and turned toward the door. Watching him go, Ada opened her mouth to speak, but the agony rising from her chest—sharp and tearing—cut through all her consciousness, plunging her into eternal darkness.