Chapter 39: Underground Elevator

Another information operations room was still relatively spacious, with tables, chairs, and benches haphazardly piled together, and traces of makeshift bedding on the floor.

“This will do.” Lin Xian dragged out a stool, glanced at Kiki, and said, “Rest for a while.”

Kiki glanced disdainfully at the filthy floor; on the other side stood a command console with over a dozen screens and information devices, all useless now that power was completely cut—these electronics were worth less than a loaf of bread.

Her eyes lit up with interest as she walked over. “Hey, bad guy, can we move these things onto the train car and convert them into an info center for me?”

“An info center?”

Lin Xian’s heart stirred—he’d noticed outside that the base had a sentry alert system, but the entire setup was far too complex for him to dismantle or relocate easily.

“Easy to say, but how are we supposed to haul it back…?”

Kiki pouted. “You’re dumb—aren’t there freight rails outside? They must connect to Beiwan Station.”

“I know,” Lin Xian sighed. “But right now we’re trapped in the fog—we’re barely trying to escape. How are we supposed to move anything?”

“Uh… fair point.” Kiki deflated, then stretched lazily, her eyes weary as she looked at Lin Xian.

“I can’t keep going. I need to rest.”

Lin Xian sat down in a corner, ignoring her—he knew Kiki was utterly drained.

Whether it was Qian Yu or Tang Hai, Lin Xian knew they all had their own agendas. In this environment, everyone thought only of saving themselves. Their current politeness toward him and Kiki was purely because they were psychics.

Once they escaped the fog, Lin Xian would be their greatest threat.

Of course, some might see him and Kiki as trees to cling to—but right now, everyone’s fate is uncertain, and with only two days left until eternal night, no one knows if they’ll even survive.

“Logically, a place like this should have backup power or generators,” Lin Xian thought, watching the survivors outside the main hall lighting candles on the ground—proof the ventilation system still worked, but electricity was entirely gone.

“It’s in the armory. Smells awful.”

Kiki sat down beside Lin Xian, leaned her head against his shoulder, and fell asleep.

Lin Xian turned to look at the girl, his expression complicated.

Yesterday, after using her psychic ability twice against the giant insect, she collapsed immediately. Today, she pushed through without flinching. She was smart—if others knew her power couldn’t last long, Qian Yu and Tang Hai wouldn’t fear her so much. Even though Lin Xian had shown his ability, his presence didn’t radiate the same terrifying pressure as Kiki’s.

Recalling how she’d feigned sleep for three days, Lin Xian began to wonder: what was her real identity? How could a rich man’s daughter possess such unyielding resolve?

Night fell. Outside, in the sentry yard and within the bunker, everything was silent.

No one made a sound. Tonight would be sleepless—not just from fear of the dark, but because everyone planned to break through the fog tomorrow, a plan with no guarantee of survival.

Lin Xian didn’t rest. He placed his hand on the command console and activated Mechanical Heart to establish a connection.

But soon he realized this command system wasn’t just a server or set of devices—it was an integrated hub linking the entire sentry station.

The system’s scale exceeded his expectations, draining his energy rapidly. Lin Xian panicked, about to shut down Mechanical Heart, when he suddenly noticed something strange: beneath the underground facility, there was a secret elevator.

And right now, that elevator was descending.

Lin Xian frowned, stood up, and looked out into the main hall—no movement.

Then where was the elevator entrance?

And if this underground facility had no power, how was the elevator still operating?

“Backup power?”

Lin Xian glanced at the sleeping Kiki, remembering her mention of a reserve generator in the armory.

Sensing something off, Lin Xian grew cautious. His first thought was Tang Hai.

Both he and Qian Yu had felt Tang Hai was suspicious. Though his goals were accepted, his timing was too convenient.

Lou Shasha arrived the day before yesterday; Qian Yu’s group came a day earlier. Logically, Tang Hai should’ve known about them immediately—but he only appeared today, risking a zombie horde. Yet as a local, he’d led them straight to this shelter, clearly safer than the square, easing their suspicions.

Though factions distrusted each other, being trapped in the fog meant they were all on the same boat. Tang Hai had even opened the bunker’s door—Lin Xian had no choice but to suppress his doubts.

Out of caution, Lin Xian decided to investigate further.

He gently laid Kiki down, found a discarded sleeping bag for her to lean against, and stepped out of the operations room.

The survivors outside stared at Lin Xian with strange eyes. Since Feng Yuming had brought him in, no one spoke up—everyone remained silent.

Lin Xian ignored them and re-entered the armory. Sure enough, deep inside, he spotted a large diesel generator and energy storage system.

But when he probed it with his psychic ability, he discovered the generator was broken and had no fuel—he immediately paled.

“What’s going on? There’s no power—so is there another backup source?”

This discovery sharpened his suspicion.

He searched around, then returned to the bunker’s entrance to the vehicle bay. The iron door was locked. He quietly used Mechanical Heart to open it and saw dozens of survivors’ vehicles parked quietly in the sentry yard below—faint light leaked from cracks in several, confirming many were staying awake, ready to guard through the night.

!

Lin Xian circled the area but found no elevator entrance—and no trace of Tang Hai or Feng Yuming. Where had the uncle-nephew pair gone?

A strange unease stirred in him. He closed the iron door and returned to the operations room. He took a deep breath, then fully activated Mechanical Heart, attempting to link the entire base’s systems. Soon, he felt as if his essence had been drained—he looked exhausted.

But when Lin Xian scanned the entire base’s mechanical structure and pathways through the command hub, he suddenly snapped his eyes open, a sharp, fierce gleam flashing in them. After a long silence, he growled:

“Shit!”

Lin Xian’s expression changed drastically, cold sweat pouring from his forehead. After a moment’s thought, he picked up Kiki and carried her into the armory, locking the door behind him.

The stench in the armory made the sleeping Kiki frown slightly. Lin Xian turned on his flashlight, moved her to the far end beside the generator—closer to the ventilation duct, where the smell was slightly less intense.

He set Kiki down, turned off the flashlight, and felt her faint breath in the darkness. Then he placed his hand on the generator and scanned again.

“Of course.”

In the darkness, Lin Xian’s gaze grew heavy, his heartbeat quickening.

“So stinky…”

Kiki murmured half-asleep beside him.

“Hey, kid.”

Lin Xian pinched Kiki’s cheek. Startled awake by the sudden pain and the stench around her, she frowned and struggled to sit up.

“Hey—you!”

Before she could finish, Lin Xian clamped his hand over her mouth.

Click. Lin Xian turned on the flashlight, his gaze serious as he pointed to the wall beside her.

“What’s wrong?” Seeing his expression, Kiki snapped to attention. She forced herself to stay alert. “Monsters?”

Lin Xian’s eyes darkened. “I think it might be worse than that…”

New author seeking follows and recommendations!

(End of Chapter)