novelraw Chapter 18: Sea of Darkness - (18)
Chapter 18: Sea of Darkness - (18)
Kui Xin took the elevator to Shu Xuyao’s office.
Upon entering the lift, Yadang sent her a new daily work schedule.
In the morning, there was only one arrangement—job orientation training. For the afternoon, two activities were scheduled: from 2:30 PM to 5:30 PM would be dedicated to training time, and at 6 PM, she needed to attend a group meeting at the Field Operations Team’s conference room. The agenda for the meeting was not specified on the schedule.
At first glance, the day seemed to have very few tasks, but in reality, there would be no idle moments. Training could be monotonous and exhausting, yet it was essential, as Kui Xin relied on these skills for survival.
With a beep, the elevator stopped on the third floor.
The doors opened, revealing Shu Xuyao conveniently waiting right outside.
“Captain!” Kui Xin put down her communicator and looked up.
“Right on time.” Shu Xuyao stepped into the elevator, pressed the button to close the doors, and then said, “Yadang, Floor -6.”
“Yes, the floor blockade has been unlocked,” Yadang responded.
Noticing Kui Xin’s surprised expression, Shu Xuyao patiently explained, “The Investigation Department has many hidden floors. The buttons for these floors are not displayed in the elevators; only authorized personnel can command Yadang to unlock the floor blockades and access them.”“No wonder.” Kui Xin glanced at the elevator buttons; the highest floor shown was the 66th, and the lowest was Basement Level -3, while the floor number Shu Xuyao just mentioned was Basement Level -6.
Between Basement Levels -3 and -6, or even below -6, could there be more hidden floors? What purposes do these hidden floors serve?
Mechanical Dawn’s infiltration into the Investigation Department is not extensive. The data chip entrusted to Dr. Huang by their organization contained vague speculations, with some information not mentioned at all. Kui Xin is the first successful undercover agent to infiltrate internally. Although Dr. Huang at the medical center is also an undercover operative, his work scope is limited to treating patients, preventing him from interacting with security officers’ duties and thus restricting the intelligence he could gather.
Kui Xin’s experience was different; on her very first day of officially joining, she received training related to the Investigation Department’s core secrets.
The elevator descended continuously and soon came to a stop. The moment the elevator doors opened, Kui Xin detected the damp chill of water. Cold air rushed into the small elevator compartment, causing goosebumps to instantly rise on her arms.
Inside the elevator, lights were illuminated, while outside, the underground floor was shrouded in darkness. The profound blackness combined with icy moisture made one hesitate upon seeing it.
Suddenly, lights flickered on, illuminating the underground level.
What immediately caught her eye were the seamless silver-white metal walls. These walls had been treated to prevent glare, so the reflected light did not appear blinding, but droplets of condensation beaded along them, shimmering at first glance.
Why is the humidity here so high?
“Come on, Kui Xin, let’s change into protective suits first,” Shu Xuyao said, leading the way ahead.
“It feels like something out of a horror movie,” Kui Xin remarked. “Where exactly are we, Captain?”
“The specimen collection is just one part of it,” Shu Xuyao explained. “This place contains some samples of alien creatures. Once these creatures die, their bodies deteriorate rapidly, forcing us to preserve them by immersing them in specially formulated solutions. We must constantly control both humidity and temperature.”
They turned right, facing a long corridor. Shu Xuyao entered first, and red lights illuminated both sides of the passage as misty disinfectant sprayed from its ceiling. After the disinfection process was completed, the red lighting changed to green, allowing Shu Xuyao to exit.
Following Shu Xuyao’s example, Kui Xin walked into the corridor for disinfection.
“Some alien species are preserved by cryogenic freezing with liquid nitrogen, so it’s extremely cold inside. Therefore, the protective suits are made with thicker materials,” explained Shu Xuyao while retrieving a protective suit and demonstrating how to wear it to Kui Xin.
The protective suit was thick, resembling a spacesuit; once donned, it gave her a bulky appearance akin to that of a snowman.
Struggling to pull on the suit, Kui Xin managed, with Shu Xuyao’s assistance, to zip up the back. Finally, they also equipped glass helmets.
Inside the protective suits, there were communication devices. Despite the glass helmet covering, Kui Xin could still hear Shu Xuyao’s voice clearly.
The last metal door opened, and Kui Xin entered the “specimen collection” side by side with Shu Xuyao.
What she encountered next was a shocking revelation.
A ghostly pale human body was submerged within a transparent glass jar filled with a pale green solution. The head atop the neck had vanished, replaced by coiled, dark-red tentacles. These tentacles emerged from the neck and silently floated amidst the green liquid.
This specimen was not alarming; something even more terrifying awaited ahead.
Kui Xin turned her head and saw that within the glass jar on the left was half of a human body parasitized by an alien creature. The reason it was only half was because it had been sawed in two, clearly displaying the cross-section of the grotesquely mutated human form with organs like the heart and intestines visibly exposed.
“Don’t vomit inside your protective suit,” Shu Xuyao cautioned.
Kui Xin diverted her gaze, managing to say, “I… I didn’t eat much this morning, so I won’t throw up.”
“You’re considered quite composed for a newcomer,” Shu Xuyao remarked. “Lan Lan ended up vomiting during his first visit, right into his protective suit.”
“Did he continue touring the entire time wearing a suit covered in vomit?” Kui Xin asked.
“How could he? Our Investigation Department isn’t that cruel or twisted.” Shu Xuyao chuckled. “He went back, took a shower, changed his clothes, and resumed the underground tour in the afternoon.”
“Poor Lan Lan,” Kui Xin sympathized. She shifted her focus and felt somewhat better after engaging in conversation. “I’ve seen the parasitic hydra before; its tentacles are transparent, making the visual impact less disturbing. But these dark red tentacles just…”
These dark red tentacles appeared menacing, evil, and eerie, far more repulsive than those of the parasitic hydra.
“These creatures are called Red Thorn Hunters, and they have even more aggressive temperaments than the parasitic hydras. Humans parasitized by them rarely survive beyond three days, meaning they need to change hosts every three days,” Shu Xuyao explained, pointing at the glass jar. “Look at the label below.”
Kui Xin leaned closer and examined the label, which detailed specific information about the specimen.
“Species: Red Thorn Hunter. Status: Growth Stage. Creation Date: 2083.02.19. Executor: Wei Zhi.”
“This Red Thorn Hunter was killed three years ago during Wei Zhi’s mission, and she brought it back intact for researchers to dissect and study,” Shu Xuyao said. “Red Thorn Hunters are extremely rare, with long growth cycles. On average, they must change hosts every three days. This particular Red Thorn Hunter had grown for at least two months; you can imagine just how many people it must have killed to reach this stage.”
Shocked, Kui Xin asked, “With so many deaths, didn’t the Investigation Department notice?”
“The Red Thorn Hunter boarded a smuggling ship carrying over twenty individuals, all serving as its reserve food supply. By the time the smuggling ship drifted near Black Sea City’s waters, only one person remained alive on board, barely clinging to life. The coastal security force discovered their vessel.” Shu Xuyao gazed at the pale human body within the glass jar. “Of course, that sole survivor is now dead too, and his body lies before us in this specimen jar.”
He narrated the gruesome story with a calm tone, his words conveying a matter-of-fact attitude.
“You mentioned earlier that it was in its growth phase?” Kui Xin replied.
“Yes, the sequence is young life stage, growth phase, and mature phase,” Shu Xuyao explained. “Follow me.”
He bypassed several specimen jars and approached a massive horizontal metal cabinet, reaching out to open the sealed lid.
A white mist carrying a chill emerged from the cabinet, revealing within it a solid block of transparent ice enclosing a translucent parasitic hydra. Unlike the previous one, this hydra was very small, approximately the size of a fist, resembling a harmless jellyfish with its soft appearance.
“We haven’t collected any Red Thorn Hunters in their young life stage, but we do have a young life stage parasitic hydra,” Shu Xuyao said. “This is what it looks like during its young life stage; at this point, it is extremely fragile. It drifts into the ocean and parasitizes fish. If fishermen happen to haul in the infected fish, the hydras will then opportunistically infect humans. If not caught, they continue drifting until they enter the growth phase. Once in the growth phase, they crawl ashore, search for human hosts at docks, and absorb nutrients from humans to grow and reproduce.”
Shu Xuyao closed the cabinet door tightly, sealing it shut. “Upon death, parasitic hydras immediately dissolve, so using ice helps preserve the specimens for longer.”
He promptly opened another adjacent metal cabinet. “These are mature-stage parasitic hydras; what we encountered that day was also at this stage.”
Similar to the Red Thorn Hunter specimen, the preserved parasitic hydra had its tentacles connected to a human torso, exhibiting an eerie and grotesque appearance akin to that of extraterrestrial beings. Due to both the tentacles and human torso being sealed within layers of ice, they appeared exceptionally stiff and contorted.
“They aren’t invincible. Parasitic hydras fear fire and cannot survive without water,” Kui Xin said. “The flamethrowers on police cars can inflict severe damage on them. Their usual habitats are near coastal areas; they rarely venture into city centers—this is what Lan Lan told me.”
“Yes, aquatic alien creatures generally have weaknesses against fire and require constant access to water. That’s why they haven’t massively proliferated within cities,” Shu Xuyao explained. “All the alien species in Black Sea City are aquatic. As for terrestrial ones… I haven’t personally witnessed any yet. Perhaps inland cities might have records of them.”
“Are there mature-stage alien creatures?” Kui Xin proactively asked.
Shu Xuyao nodded slightly. “There are some.”
“Part of it?” Kui Xin asked, puzzled.
“It was divided into two halves; one half was sent to the Black Sea Academy’s laboratory for research, and the other half is stored here,” Shu Xuyao said. “Follow me.”
They traversed past glass jars containing bizarre creatures and human organ specimens with peculiar growths, eventually reaching the entrance of a separate room.
Shu Xuyao lowered his head for iris authentication, and Yadang stated, “Based on your authorization level, you have three minutes for educational observation.”
The metal door opened, releasing an exceptionally intense wave of cold air this time. Even through their thick protective suits, they could feel the biting chill—it far surpassed the icy storage conditions of the parasitic hydra.
As soon as Kui Xin entered, she was awe-struck. When she lifted her head, momentarily disoriented, she felt like she had stepped into an underwater tunnel at an aquarium, where sea water and swimming fish were visible through the glass. However, this wasn’t an aquarium, but rather a large ice chamber filled with solid yet transparent ice.
Within the robust and clear ice block, an alien creature resembling an octopus extended its tentacles. It was incredibly massive, nearly filling the entire ice chamber. Its yellow eyes featured horizontal slits for pupils, and the suckers on its sturdy tentacles were larger than footballs by a considerable margin.
This specimen was remarkably well preserved, almost lifelike. When Kui Xin met its yellow gaze, she felt her heart flutter slightly. Unfortunately, only half of the specimen was left, so based on this fragment, one could only imagine its appearance when it was alive.
“Kraken beast,” Shu Xuyao said. “Quite awe-inspiring, isn’t it?”
“Kraken?” The familiar term brought Kui Xin’s thoughts back to focus.
“It’s a mythical sea monster from folklore. In the past, during less technologically advanced times, people believed that deep within the ocean lived a creature called the Kraken, which would drag ships underwater and devour those aboard,” explained Shu Xuyao. “As it turns out, the legend is true. The monstrous giant known as the Kraken is actually an alien species; however, nowadays, people no longer believe in these sea monsters’ existence. The Investigation Department secretly eliminates such alien creatures, maintaining order in human society.”
The cargo ship named “The Kraken” and the Kraken beast—could it be that the vessel carrying mysterious cargo derived its name from this very folk tale?
“How did the Investigation Department successfully eradicate such a terrifying alien species as the Kraken Beast?” Kui Xin asked.
Shu Xuyao explained, “This Kraken was not killed by the Investigation Department; it died naturally and washed ashore. The Kraken does not need to parasitize humans because it can hunt independently, although sometimes it may prey on humans.”
Their time was up, and Shu Xuyao led Kui Xin out of the ice storage.
“Does the Investigation Department preserve alien creature specimens solely for educational visits?” Kui Xin asked. “It seems quite expensive, with maintaining temperature, humidity control, and continuous liquid nitrogen freezing around the clock. Doesn’t that require significant resources? Couldn’t similar educational effects be achieved using images and holographic projections instead?”
“You’re indeed correct; preserving them is very costly, and educationally, technological means could compensate,” Shu Xuyao acknowledged. “Therefore, the Investigation Department retaining alien creature remains serves purposes beyond just education.”
Kui Xin pondered. “It must still be primarily for research, right? Captain, you mentioned the Black Sea Academy—does the Black Sea Academy also study alien creatures?”
“Yes, that’s accurate,” Shu Xuyao replied. “We’ve finished visiting the specimen collection on Floor B6. Next, we’ll go to Floor B5, where there are some other matters I need to acquaint you with.”
They exited the frigid specimen collection room, removed their protective suits in the changing area, sprayed disinfectant once more, and returned to the elevator lobby.
“Yadang, Floor B5.” Shu Xuyao glanced at the elevator’s clock. “We still have plenty of time.”
Yadang responded, “The floor lock has been released.”
The elevator ascended, and within just a few seconds, the doors opened.
“Do we need protective suits again?” Kui Xin asked. “Those things are quite cumbersome to put on.”
Shu Xuyao said, “No longer necessary, but you will need to change into sterile dustproof garments.”
This entry process was much simpler—after disinfection, putting on the dustproof suit, meticulously tucking hair into the cap, and securing it, one could proceed inside.
Unlike the desolation of the specimen collection on Floor B6, surprisingly, there were many people on Floor B5. Through the glass isolation windows, individuals clad in white lab coats could be seen bustling at their respective workstations.
“What is this place?” Kui Xin asked, astonished.
“It’s a laboratory specifically for researching alien creatures. This laboratory belongs exclusively to us,” Shu Xuyao succinctly explained. “The Investigation Department collaborates with numerous institutions, such as the Black Sea Academy’s Biotechnology Laboratory, the Federal Government’s Cell Research Institute, and some research departments under private consortia. These research institutions share a common focus—the study of alien creatures.”
Kui Xin glanced around the laboratory and asked, “Researching how to counteract them?”
“Not just that,” Shu Xuyao said meaningfully. “They primarily focus on studying how to extract value from these creatures.”
“Extract value?” Kui Xin turned to look at Shu Xuyao.
Shu Xuyao led her into the laboratory, saying, “You’ll understand once you see it.”
An evidently older researcher spotted Shu Xuyao and greeted him, “Ah, Xiao Shu, introducing new recruits?”
“Yes, please continue with your work; we won’t take more than ten minutes,” Shu Xuyao replied courteously.
“Good,” the researcher remarked, glancing at Kui Xin. “It’s been quite some time since we had new members. Keep up the good work, young lady.”
The researcher immersed themselves back into their work, while Shu Xuyao picked up a light blue reagent bottle from the table.
“This is the venom of a Red Thorn Hunter, still in its unrefined state. It has strong corrosive properties, capable of even corroding metal.” He put on gloves, grabbed a piece of iron, and dropped liquid from the bottle onto it.
With a sizzling sound, a small circular hole appeared in the one-millimeter-thick iron sheet.
“Hunting alien creatures is extremely dangerous. Our bulletproof combat suits cannot withstand the pressure exerted by the parasitic hydra’s tentacles, nor can they resist the corrosive effects of the Red Thorn Hunter’s venom,” Shu Xuyao explained. “These species are perilous, but hidden within their bodies lie valuable treasures.”
“Both the parasitic hydra and Red Thorn Hunters rely on human hosts for their growth and reproduction. They share a common characteristic: they only parasitize living beings. Regardless of how deformed or mentally impaired humans become due to parasitism, until all nutrients have been depleted from them, they will continue to live. Even if their bodies wither down to mere skeletons, even if they struggle to move, they remain alive,” Shu Xuyao said as he set down the pale blue reagent. “These creatures secrete a special substance that sustains the host’s life, allowing the host to cling onto existence.”
“Just like leeches?” Kui Xin followed Shu Xuyao’s line of thought. “When leeches suck blood from humans, they secrete anticoagulant substances. Although their blood-sucking behavior is harmful to humans, the anticoagulants found within them can be utilized in medical treatments.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I wanted to convey.” Shu Xuyao smiled. “They are terrifying monsters, but they also possess value. If we could understand the composition of these secretions and synthesize them artificially, it would bring significant breakthroughs in the medical field.”
“Do we have any successful results yet?” Kui Xin asked curiously.
“Of course there is.” Shu Xuyao approached another table and retrieved two vials. “These substances were extracted from the parasitic hydra. One serves as a potent anti-inflammatory pain reliever, while the other vial accelerates wound healing by promoting cell division. Both of these medications have already seen widespread application within the Investigation Department.”
Kui Xin marveled, “During my head surgery, were these medications also administered? The wound healed at an unbelievably fast rate.”
“It likely was,” Shu Xuyao said. “They’re highly effective; over the past couple of years, our field operation casualties have significantly decreased, partly due to these scientific research achievements. Researchers are attempting to uncover even more value from alien creatures.”
“The primary value of alien creatures lies in developing medicines?” Kui Xin asked. “Are there any other uses?”
“They possess three main values. The first is in the medical domain, and the second manifests in materials science,” Shu Xuyao explained. “Materials science isn’t a research topic for the Investigation Department’s laboratory; it’s outsourced to biotechnology companies. However, we do keep some samples here in our lab.”
On a corner desk lay a piece of pitch-black fabric. Shu Xuyao picked it up and said, “Try pulling on it, Kui Xin.”
Kui Xin grabbed the fabric and pulled; instantly, the short piece stretched several times its original length. As she stepped back, creating more distance, it seemed as if the fabric’s elasticity had no limit.
“This is a new biomaterial extracted from tentacle-like alien creatures. Currently, it cannot be mass-produced yet. Its advantages include excellent stretchability and resistance to cuts from sharp objects.” Shu Xuyao casually picked up a small laboratory knife and made a cut on the fabric, leaving not even a trace of damage. He then thrust the tip downward, but the fabric remained unscathed.
“It appears these findings are just the tip of the iceberg,” Kui Xin remarked.
“Yes, merely the tip of the iceberg. The research institutions collaborating with us have numerous additional scientific achievements,” Shu Xuyao said. “Kui Xin, remember that our primary objective is to eliminate alien creatures and ensure public safety, not to capture them for profit. New pharmaceuticals and materials are merely incidental benefits. Compared to the risks involved, our gains can be considered minimal… I can’t recall how many teammates and colleagues have died in battles. Every year, the Investigation Department holds memorial services, and I attend each one.”
“I will strive to stay alive,” Kui Xin responded calmly.
She had been prepared for this reality for a long time. From the very first day of her arrival in the Second World, Kui Xin resolved to use every means possible to survive, aiming to avoid all bad endings and strive towards a happy one.
“Captain, you mentioned earlier that alien creatures have three uses. What about the third?” she asked.
Shu Xuyao patted Kui Xin’s shoulder. “Come with me to the third sub-level, and you’ll find out.”
“The third sub-level? I recall that it serves as temporary detention cells, housing prisoners who haven’t yet faced trial in court,” Kui Xin responded as she followed him.
“You’re correct; the third sub-level is indeed used for temporary detention. However, what you might not know is that it doesn’t only hold ordinary criminals,” Shu Xuyao explained. “The third sub-level has the most stringent security measures in the entire Investigation Department building. It is actually divided into two sections: the East and West zones. The East zone contains common criminals, but the West zone is different.”
They shed their dustproof suits and stepped into the elevator once more.
Kui Xin suppressed her curiosity, waiting for the mystery to be revealed.
The most significant matters always save themselves for last. She had learned about alien creatures and understood their dangers and values, but what came next? What awaited her ahead?
The elevator doors opened, revealing two armed security officers standing on either side.
Upon exiting the elevator, there were paths to both the left and right. Kui Xin quickly observed that heavy metal doors blocked off each area. Shu Xuyao led Kui Xin to turn right, subsequently scanning his iris for authentication.
With a rumble, the door lifted upward. This time, the sound of the metal door opening was distinct from previous levels; while other floors’ doors opened silently and smoothly, this one produced significant noise. Upon closer inspection, the metal door of the third sub-level was over thirty centimeters thick, undoubtedly weighing several tons.
Indeed, the security measures were stringent.
Shu Xuyao’s footsteps echoed in the empty corridor. The prison cells lining both sides weren’t separated by iron bars but rather by glass—bulletproof glass. Many cells were vacant, suggesting that the number of prisoners in the West District was quite low.
“A new prisoner arrived just a few days ago. His physical condition is extremely poor; he might die within a couple of days. Even the doctors can’t save him,” Shu Xuyao said. “I’ll take you to see him.”
This prisoner must be very exceptional, Kui Xin deduced.
After walking only a short distance, Shu Xuyao stopped.
He turned and pointed towards a cell, gesturing for Kui Xin to take a look.
“Hissss.” At her first glance at the prisoner, Kui Xin couldn’t help but gasp sharply.
The male prisoner lay on the ground, his eyes blankly staring at the cell’s ceiling. His exposed skin had a terrifying bluish-gray hue. His hand joints were grotesquely twisted and protruding, and his fingers were unnaturally elongated and limp, resembling tentacles—tentacles of an alien creature!
Suddenly, the prisoner coughed, expelling a mass of bloody flesh that unexpectedly twitched slightly on the floor.
“Has he been parasitized by a monster?” Kui Xin asked, filled with disgust.
Even though she hadn’t eaten much for breakfast, these repeated visual shocks were overwhelming. She truly felt close to vomiting.
“No, he hasn’t been parasitized by a monster,” Shu Xuyao replied mildly. “He transformed himself into one.”
He stared at Kui Xin. “This is the third use of alien creatures that I wanted to discuss with you.
“Some illicit religious groups, driven by evil intentions, collect and purify the blood of alien creatures. They consume this blood, attempting to gain power from it.”
“They refer to alien creatures as remnants of the ancient gods, and the extracted blood of these creatures is called ‘Divine Blood.’ Those who obtain extraordinary powers through ‘Divine Blood’ are termed ‘Variant Bloods’.”