Chapter 783: Journey Through the Abyss

It felt as if they had been trudging through the Abyss for an eternity. Lu Xin had already fallen asleep in the car compartment redolent of Dr. An’s signature perfume when a knock at the door jolted him awake. Lifting the curtain, he saw the grim little face of that undercover unit donning a red, pointed cap, smiling at him. It was only then he realized that the carriage had left the Abyss and arrived in a shadowy stretch of wasteland.

“Are we there?”

Lu Xin was somewhat surprised. He turned around to rouse the drowsy Dr. An before stepping out of the compartment.

He stretched lazily, feeling his bones crack and pop.

Then, shivering at the chilly mountain wind, he went back to rummage through his luggage and grabbed a thick jacket.

Meanwhile, the others disembarked from the carriage. After using some measuring tools to ascertain their location, they dismissed the two mental monsters pulling the carriage for now. All the luggage and cases – including the one Lu Xin had just reopened after retrieving his jacket – were piled atop a wooden easel carried by the burly A Zhen, making him seem even larger.

“First phase destination confirmed.”

“Investigation team headcount is accurate and everyone’s in good shape.”

“We can now set out for the second phase destination.”

“…”

Dr. An lazily counted heads before producing a small recording pen from her pocket.

She recorded a log with utmost seriousness, then turned it off.

It was hard to imagine her so meticulous while recording, yet all she did was cast a quick glance over everyone present.

“Let’s go. It shouldn’t be far from here; there should be an observation post established by the old Research Institute.”

Dr. An tucked the log into a small box, then looked around at the group and said, “When we get there, we’ll rest for the night, discuss the itinerary, and set off early tomorrow to enter the Forbidden Zone.”

She paused briefly before adding with a laugh, “But even here, mishaps could happen.”

“Back at that observation post, the staff mysteriously vanished without a trace.”

“I hope everyone stays alert and cautious.”

“Even though if we die here, no one will miss us, I still want everyone to make it back alive.”

“…”

“…”

Her words, oscillating between consolation and schadenfreude, sent a shudder down everyone’s spine.

Especially Lu Xin, whose lips twitched as he thought, “Even if you don’t care, someone does worry about me…”

He left the thought unspoken.

After all, these people, sent by the Research Institute on such a perilous mission, were already in deep trouble…

He felt no need to parade any superiority in front of them.

Everyone tightened their shoelaces and rolled up their sleeves.

They began trudging through the barren mountain terrain—one cautious step after another—toward the observation post Dr. An had mentioned.

The mountain paths were treacherous, or rather, there were no clear paths at all—just a stretch of barren, low hills.

Large boulders lay scattered across the undulating mounds, exuding a profound sense of desolation and oppression.

Lu Xin didn’t mind the climb.

For one, he had been working out diligently lately, and he was no longer the half-breath, unfit person he used to be.

He could now sprint two hundred meters before gasping for air.

Also, his Sister obediently clung to his back; she was so light that her weight was nearly unnoticeable.

Carrying her meant he could always tap into her abilities to scale cliffs with ease.

In contrast, it was obvious that the others were lagging in terms of stamina.

That girl named Sissi was performing surprisingly well.

Clad in a heavy down jacket that should have hampered her mobility,

she nevertheless pressed her head down, her face impassive as she trod the mountain path at a steady pace, always matching the others. And from under her jacket, constant clinks rang out, as if she were carrying countless metal items.

A Zhen, who was carrying the massive wooden easel laden with everyone’s luggage, walked with even more ease.

When he was a good distance away, his breathing was so faint that one might even suspect something uncanny beneath his pale skin.

It almost seemed as though his heart wasn’t beating at all.

When Dr. An was in the carriage, she had silently endured her own heartache to swap out her beloved black stockings for a pair of sleek black skinny jeans and white hiking shoes. She didn’t appear fatigued at all—clearly, she was a regular at the gym.

As for the three Researchers, they were clearly struggling.

One of them had been walking in the open field for less than ten minutes before he started gasping for breath and slowing down.

He even began to silently wipe away tears.

Seeing his weakened state and fearing he might collapse, Lu Xin moved closer to walk with him.

With their proximity, he could hear the man muttering intermittently, “I regret it so much…”

“Why did I ever do that…”

“How I wish I’d never been involved…”

“…”

Lu Xin’s curiosity was piqued by his intermittent grumbling, so he edged closer and enthusiastically offered a cigarette:

“Want a drag?”

“…”

The gaunt, sweat-drenched man instinctively reached for it, but then weakly shook his head:

“I can’t even manage a drag.”

“…”

“Oh.”

Lu Xin put the cigarette back in his mouth, though he didn’t light it.

In this state of hurrying through, even he found it hard to take a proper drag.

Instead, he carefully organized his words, curiously asking, “Master Wang, what brought you here?”

He recalled Dr. An mentioning that these people seemed to have come here out of sheer necessity.

“Don’t call me Master.”

Master Wang glanced at Lu Xin and replied, “Call me Doctor.”

“Oh, okay.”

Lu Xin cooperated, asking, “So, what brought you here?”

Master Wang let out a deep sigh and said, “It’s all my fault—I got myself a very beautiful wife…”

“?”

Lu Xin couldn’t quite connect the dots. “What does that have to do with you, your wife?”

Master Wang’s face grew stern as he shot Lu Xin a look. “My wife slept with someone else, and in a fit of passion, I grabbed one of the Research Institute’s parasitic items and cursed her. I was caught for breaking the rules and ended up assigned to this investigation team.”

“This…”

Lu Xin looked at him with a mix of surprise and sympathy.

There was indeed a tragic story behind this man’s life.

“That’s…”

At that moment, a slightly plump Master Zhang stepped forward and angrily interjected, “What are you so worked up for?”

“Why don’t you come over and chop me a couple of times already?”

“…”

“?”

Lu Xin, now thoroughly curious, turned to him, “Master Zhang, what’s your deal?”

“I’m a doctor too.”

Dr. Zhang glared at Lu Xin before sighing, “I slept with his wife…”

“…”

“?”

Lu Xin was utterly dumbfounded.

This was a story of moral decay…

“Why such reckless impulses?”

At that moment, Master Li—walking ahead—turned around, looked at the duo, and said bitterly, “It was just a fistfight at first; two chops would have settled it. But because you couldn’t hold back and went off to steal a parasitic item, things escalated into the Research Institute’s worst accident. Now look at us—we’re all here, not even sure if we can ever get back…”

Lu Xin’s heart stirred as he quickly asked, “Dr. Li, so are you…”

“I’m not a doctor; just an engineer no one respects.”

Master Li continued bitterly, “And besides, I’m his wife.”

“It was that parasitic item that transferred me into this body.”

“…”

“Huh??”

Lu Xin was so shocked he couldn’t close his mouth.

This was turning into a surreal tale…

“…”

“…”

After some careful thought, he instinctively kept his distance from them.

He couldn’t shake off the feeling that the three of them, though they appeared ordinary, were surrounded by an astonishing aura of hostility.

Moreover, he found it utterly baffling that the Research Institute would send these three people on such a dangerous mission.

Luckily, the journey wasn’t long—in just about half an hour through the wasteland, Dr. An raised her head from ahead.

She surveyed the surroundings and whispered, “We’ve arrived.”

At her word, everyone looked up and froze for a moment, seeing a string of scattered lights ahead.

Amid the deepening dusk of the shadowy mountains, the lights exuded an unusually warm hue.

“Are there people at the observation post?”

“It’s been in ruins for years. Besides, even if someone were there, you wouldn’t see so many lights. A look inside would clear that up.”

“…”

After a brief discussion, everyone instinctively quickened their pace to avoid traveling under the cover of night.

Within ten minutes, they arrived at the gathering point of lights, and everyone was momentarily stunned.

They saw the observation post Dr. An had mentioned: a row of concrete houses without courtyards, stark against the wasteland. But these houses were not empty—in and around them were many people.

Nearby, tents were pitched, fires were burning, and simple barbed-wire enclosures kept cows and sheep corralled.

It looked very much like a small town.

“What is this…”

Lu Xin couldn’t help glancing at Dr. An.

She furrowed her brow slightly and murmured, “They must be the High Mountain Wanderers.”

She continued quietly, “Back in the day, the area was overrun with the demented. With the terrain so rough, building a High-Wall City wasn’t as safe as gathering together for scavenging operations. That’s why so many survivors formed scavenger teams and played hide-and-seek with the demented. Even though most of them mysteriously vanished a few years ago, it’s become something of a norm.”

“I guess when they saw the observation post and the decent terrain, they decided to set up camp here for a while.”

“…”

“So what now…”

Someone had hoped for a decent rest, and their face fell in disappointment.

“There’s no helping it. According to their ways, if they claim a spot, it’s theirs.”

Dr. An smiled and said, “We’ll have to borrow a place to rest.”

“But we must be very cautious…”

As she spoke, she gently untied her ponytail, letting her hair cascade like a waterfall, and laughed happily,

“They usually have no rules—they snatch a woman as soon as they see her.”

“Not to mention a woman as beautiful as me…”

“…”

“…”

Why did she not seem worried but rather excited?

Lu Xin glanced at Dr. An’s beaming face and muttered to himself.

Then he scanned the group and noticed that little Zhenzhen and his Sister were too young.

Even others, like the Elegant Lady, now resembled men.

It seemed that only Dr. An was truly concerned about safety… so why was she so particular?

“Let’s go!”

Dr. An earnestly instructed everyone, then took out a small mirror, applied some lipstick, and smiled as she said.

Judging by her demeanor, if not for the environment, she might even consider changing back into her stockings.

The group exchanged uncertain looks, unsure of what she was thinking.

But since she was in charge of the investigation team, whatever she said was final…

So, under her lead, the group resumed their heavy steps toward the cluster of lights.

“…”

“…”

“Swish, swish, swish…”

As Lu Xin and the others emerged from the darkness, numerous people by the fire raised their guns.

Footsteps sounded behind them—it was a few sentries hidden in the dark, also ready to fire.

Judging by the expressions of the people by the fire, they seemed unsurprised.

They must have been watching the group all along from afar.

Lu Xin surmised that the High Mountain Wanderers, having survived in such a perilous place for years, had long since developed their own habits and effective defensive measures—appearing relaxed, yet having hidden sentries all around, vigilantly scanning their surroundings.

Along the way, they had clearly observed every detail about these newcomers before letting them in.

Perhaps Dr. An’s refusal to change her stockings was precisely to avoid drawing unwanted attention?

“Sorry, sorry—don’t panic, don’t panic…”

Facing the circle of dark gun barrels, Dr. An quickly soothed little Zhenzhen, who was trembling.

Lu Xin noted how, in the moment the gun was pointed, she lowered her head slightly and looked up at them with a subtly raised gaze.

It wasn’t until Dr. An gently pressed her palm against Zhenzhen’s nape that her tense state finally began to ease.

While patting her, Dr. An looked ahead and smiled, “We mean no harm. We’re just passing through.”

“…”

“…”

“What exactly do you do?”

Dr. An’s face was illuminated by the firelight, like a beacon, brightening the otherwise gloomy surroundings.

In the nearby camp, many of the younger men wore fixed, almost trance-like expressions, their throats tightening.

Next to the fire, a resolute middle-aged man whose age was hard to pinpoint slowly stood up. His gaze, devoid of admiration or infatuation, scanned Dr. An and then the others before he began to speak.

His accent was a bit rough; his Mandarin wasn’t very polished.

“We’re a scavenger team, just stopping by to check on the local situation.”

Dr. An smiled and pointed toward the camp, asking, “May we come in?”

“A scavenger team?”

The man, who appeared to be the tribe’s leader, scrutinized them from head to toe, a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

But he said nothing—merely pointing casually toward his people, he remarked:

“This isn’t our territory. Anyone blessed by the Gods is welcome to enter.”

“However, I expect you not to disturb our tribe. There are two tents over there if you need a place to rest.”

“…”

“Really?”

Lu Xin and the others were briefly taken aback.

They had expected conflict, but the other party turned out to be quite amicable.

“Alright, thank you. We have some canned goods as a token of appreciation for your kindness—hope you’ll accept them.”

Dr. An smiled in agreement and expressed her gratitude.

She instructed A Xiong to hand over several cans, then led Lu Xin and the others toward the tents.

Only after it seemed they could no longer hear the other side did the tribe’s leader express a tinge of regret, “What a pity—it was for the sake of good people.”

“What’s pity about that?”

Lu Xin was rather puzzled, not quite grasping her line of thought.

“…”

“…”

The group arrived at two tents at the edge, thanked the tribe members—who had originally occupied them but now, under orders from the leader, were assigned to sleep by the fire—and then set down their luggage while silently arranging plans for the night’s rest.

But Lu Xin wasn’t happy with this arrangement.

When he arrived, he and Dr. An had crammed into one carriage; now they couldn’t possibly all fit into one tent, could they?

Besides, the three Researchers couldn’t be placed in the same tent either—it was just asking for trouble.

After some discussion, they finally came up with a solution: everyone would take turns keeping watch at night, while the rest rested, divided by gender.

Once the arrangements were set, everyone sat down in silence.

Likewise, the nearby tribe remained quiet; only a few individuals were sporadically positioned in the dark sentry posts.

Most of the others had vanished without a trace.

Instead, to the west of the camp, the lights shone a bit brighter, and the occasional booming music could be heard.

“Big brother, there’s something fun over there…”

Lu Xin’s Sister was drawn by the sound of music; or perhaps she simply despised the somber atmosphere, tugging at his衣角.

“Um…”

Lu Xin himself was a bit curious about the lively scene over there.

But since they’d already set some ground rules before coming—and with the employer present—it wasn’t really his call.

Dr. An, with a graceful sweep of her eyes over the group, seemed to sense everyone’s low spirits and chimed in with a smile, “Sitting here all down isn’t good for us. After all, these might be the last few days we have on this earth. It’s important to keep our spirits high.”

“Let’s go.”

“I see some excitement over there; let’s check it out—think of it as gathering intel for our investigation mission…”

“…”

Everyone silently stood up; their moods were still subdued.

The nomadic tribe members didn’t seem to mind them roaming around. Judging by their demeanor, they appeared more concerned about where the cattle and sheep were corralled than anything else. Seeing Lu Xin and the others approach, they said nothing.

The closer they got to the other side of the mountain’s base, the louder the music became.

To their surprise, as soon as they rounded the foot of the mountain, they caught sight of a vibrant and bustling scene.

On an open space stood several green canvas tents, with colorful lights strung between the tents and supports.

Groups of people were gathered together, and in front of the largest tent, a stage had been set up.

Beside it, speakers blasted music. On stage, a clown decked out in a riot of colors pedaled a unicycle back and forth while juggling a string of small red balls. Laughter mingled with the music.

The sheer energy of the atmosphere sent a wave of warmth over everyone who witnessed it.

It was as if the bitter chill of the mountains had been swept away.

“A circus?”

Lu Xin was mildly astonished and turned to see that the others shared his surprise.

In this nomadic tribe’s territory, a performance circus had actually set up?

They all felt something was off.

Traveling between High-Wall Cities, circus troupes, dance troupes, and the like earning their keep through performances were not uncommon on this Red Moon-soaked land. Some even had a solid reputation and were well-liked by people across the Alliance.

But…

This was near the Forbidden Zone—a desolate, vast land sparse of people. Even the nomadic tribes kept a low profile.

How could a circus possibly make money here?

Lu Xin couldn’t help but think, “Are they really profiting?”

“…”

“Oh my, big brother, I love it…”

While Lu Xin pondered these questions, his Sister grew visibly excited.

At that moment, she clambered onto Lu Xin’s shoulders, her eyes scanning past the crowd toward the stage, clapping joyfully.

That made Lu Xin remember that his Sister was just a ten-year-old girl…

She was usually cooped up at home watching TV or trailing him on pollution cleanup missions, rarely getting a moment to truly unwind…

Since she was happy, he decided to let her enjoy it—provided she didn’t dash up to perform herself.

“…”

“…”

To Lu Xin’s great surprise, the circus, which wasn’t known for making much money, was performing far more spectacularly than he had imagined.

Aside from the unicycling clown who was the only mildly entertaining bit, the rest of the shows were jaw-dropping.

Take, for example, the head-chopping magician. He demonstrated a mysterious kind of glue.

Then, he hoisted a bizarrely shaped guillotine onto the stage and had his assistant lie prone on it, her hands shackled at the neck.

Dressed in a crisp, well-tailored tuxedo, he brandished a long guillotine blade for the audience to inspect. Once they sensed it was genuine, he approached the guillotine, striking a graceful pose as he raised the blade high.

“Chop…”

Blood splattered as a head rolled onto the ground.

The crowd erupted in alarm, but the magician smiled reassuringly. Picking up the severed head with one hand, he applied some glue to the broken neck and head stumps.

Bringing his hands together, he pressed upward.

Fanfare sounded, showers of confetti filled the air, shackles were released, and his assistant sprang to her feet.

Shaking her head as if nothing had happened, she signaled that all was well.

With a wave from both the magician and the now reattached-headed assistant, applause and admiration broke out among the onlookers.

“Truly amazing…”

Lu Xin clapped along, and his Sister’s clapping grew even more enthusiastic.

There’s nothing more captivating than a magic show where the trick remains a mystery—I’d even ask where he bought that glue.