Chapter 458

At 2:35 p.m., the sky above Haiyan Island was completely choked by dark clouds, a storm raging, the seas around the island churning with towering waves, the air thick with an alien stench of blood and slaughter, as if not of the living world.

Low in the air, a black floating train pierced through the gale, crashing down onto the outer rail of the old military base on Lidao with a thunderous roar, sparks flying and dust exploding upward.

“That was close.”

Chen Sixuan, watching the motion on the vehicle radar, said with a trembling breath: “Something in that sea was definitely tracking us—thankfully, we cleared the marker in time.”

“This place has no day or night anymore; those things can appear anywhere,” Lin Xian said. “And they’re too dense. One misstep, and it won’t just be a monster tide hunting us.”

The rusted military air-raid shelter door opened, and Wuxianhao slowly glided into the submarine base along the original supply channel, its engine roar stirring up decades of accumulated dust that echoed through the vast cavern.

“We’re spending the night on this island?”

From behind, Mo Nika stepped into the cockpit and looked at Lin Xian. “After knowing you this long, I’ve never seen you this uncertain.”

Lin Xian shook his head. “We’ve walked into a weird entity’s hunting circle, and there’s a Shijieji lurking somewhere. I genuinely have no better plan to get everyone out of here.”

“Maybe you’re just too tense,” Mo Nika said, her gaze shifting from Chen Sixuan to the front, watching the empty supply track slowly vanish into the mountain’s depths. “Even if a volcano erupts or a tsunami floods us, it’s just another unavoidable crisis. Since Awakening Day, we’ve lived on the edge of life and death—what’s different now?”

Hearing this, Chen Sixuan’s brow softened slightly. “I agree. When you reach the mountain, a path will appear. We’ve faced far worse dead ends—I believe we’ll survive tonight.”

Lin Xian nodded, fell silent for a moment, then gave a faint smile.

“That’s a good mindset. Alright~”

He called for Viola, who swiftly crossed the carriage and entered the cockpit. Lin Xian began issuing orders.

“Viola, take control of all drones and Falcon Sea Corps equipment to set up a defensive line around Haiyan Prison. Also, order Ryan’s people to retreat below.”

Chen Sixuan looked at him. “All defense by robots?”

“Yes,” Lin Xian said firmly. “The goal isn’t to resist—it’s to clear purposefully.”

Lin Xian studied Viola. “So many weird entities surrounding the island, keeping humans here to fight is pointless. Getting marked only becomes a trigger. Viola’s mission is to prevent wandering monsters from entering the underground base below. If necessary—”

Lin Xian’s gaze turned cold. “Blow up the tunnel connecting Haiyan Prison and this base. Bury us alive down here.”

Viola tilted her head slightly, then responded: [I have clearly understood your deployment requirements. Immediate action initiated.]

Without delay, she turned and moved out.

“Hmm,” Mo Nika said now. “That’s not bad. Maybe we’ll get a quiet night after all.”

Boom!

No sooner had she spoken than violent shaking erupted. Dust rained violently inside the aging supply track, lights flickered erratically, and a deafening pressure wave roared through Wuxianhao.

“An earthquake?!”

“Probably Mount Garan,” Lin Xian said, frowning. The tremor lasted about half a minute, causing no major damage—but its duration and intensity had clearly increased significantly from before. Not a good sign.

“It looks like the undersea volcano is on the verge of eruption,” Chen Sixuan said, looking at Lin Xian. “Didn’t you say this place sits right on a volcanic vent?”

“Yes.”

Lin Xian nodded. “Just a geothermal well, but it should lie along the same oceanic ridge volcanic chain as Mount Garan.”

As the dust in the tunnel finally settled, Lin Xian exhaled and continued driving Wuxianhao deeper along the passage. Soon, they reached the gate marked with nuclear radiation symbols. As Lin Xian remotely activated the gate with his mechanical ability, a gush of scalding heat erupted—so intense it instantly vaporized all moisture on Wuxianhao’s surface.

This place is boiling too!

Lin Xian’s eyes darkened slightly. He drove the train into the tunnel. Ahead, the light turned crimson. The track followed the edge of a massive, deep geothermal nuclear device. Through the windows, they could see the vast passage below, its glow from molten rock brightening the entire geothermal well. Even before stepping out, Lin Xian and the others felt an overwhelming heat.

“Its activity has increased. Once the drill and injector reach their tolerance limit, the device will shut down—or be destroyed. Then, the heat sources we’ve set up around Haiyan Island’s surrounding seas will vanish,” Lin Xian said. “That’s the problem.”

“So you’re certain that without this device, the monster will attack Mount Garan, causing a dead volcano to revive?” Mo Nika asked.

Lin Xian sighed. “Whether Mount Garan’s anomaly is linked to weird entity activity—or whether the Foundation’s ridiculous experiments matter—I truly don’t care.”

Wuxianhao entered the nuclear submarine base’s cargo loading platform. Lin Xian stopped the train, then turned toward the rear carriages as he spoke to Mo Nika.

“But one thing is certain: with this device active, we’re the fishermen. Without it, we’re standing atop a natural bait. Even without dark markers, we won’t escape.”

Lin Xian moved through the carriages to Car 3. He didn’t see Ding Junyi there. In Car 4, he found her busy beside several tomato seedlings. As he opened his mouth to speak, he noticed the small flower atop her head trembling gently, emitting a faint aura of psychic energy.

Lin Xian stepped closer—and froze. Before Ding Junyi, several tomato plants now bore thick, emerald-green tendrils of an unknown gourd species, rapidly climbing and coiling with visible speed. Under her control, the vine tips mutated into razor-sharp blood-thorns. The tendrils moved like hands, growing and spreading instantly against the walls of the growth chamber, covering them completely, blotting out all light.

“Your plant-based ability has evolved this fast?” Lin Xian asked.

“What you see is only a fraction,” Ding Junyi replied. She had noticed his arrival but seemed grateful he hadn’t interrupted. As the tendrils completed their circuit, they began retracting and withering, releasing a flood of pale green vapor. Ding Junyi raised her palm—where a dark green sprout spontaneously grew—and swiftly absorbed the vapor.

Lin Xian was stunned. Before he could react, Ding Junyi did something that caught him completely off guard: after absorbing the pale vapor, she turned and blew a breath directly at Lin Xian. A cool, mint-like breeze struck his face. His vision blurred, his ears rang, and Ding Junyi’s beautiful face multiplied into overlapping afterimages.

He shook his head. Seconds later, his mind cleared. Lin Xian stared at her, bewildered.

“This…?”

“Solanaceae plants produce scopolamine, which induces excitatory hallucinations, mental disorientation, and distorted time-space perception. In the past, it was used in anesthetics—but in excess, it causes unconsciousness or death.”