Chapter 70: Demon Lair

Dawn was just breaking, the cold could freeze one's nose. The out‑of‑town transfer station was still shrouded in a gray haze, with only a few dim yellow lights wavering in the morning mist.

Li Ping'an lay beside the icy rail, covered with withered grass, blending with the surroundings. He held his breath, his eyes like spotlights, fixed on the Special Train that the Fangyi Jishui Bu had already assembled and was quietly waiting in the station.

The train had seven or eight cars; the front and rear each had a sealed tank car with windows tightly boarded, through which the shadows of Sentinel riflemen could be seen. The middle cars were ordinary passenger cars, but their curtains were drawn tight. The most conspicuous was the penultimate car—its shell was clearly reinforced, it had no windows, and a thick iron door opened on the side, bearing a large bronze lock.

This was the one. Li Ping'an could clearly feel the mental sigil he had placed transmitting faintly from this carriage.

Footsteps and Japanese Soldiers' shouts came from the platform. Several people in white coats and masks emerged from the station building, followed by rifle‑bearing soldiers. They rushed straight to the special carriage, opened the bronze lock, and the thick iron door rang with a harsh clang.

The moment the door opened, Li Ping'an's eyes snapped shut.

He saw—inside the carriage there were no seats, only iron cages like animal pens! Inside the cages were people curled up, men, women, children, all gaunt and hollow‑eyed, like lambs awaiting slaughter. Even more terrifying, some bore horrific red rashes and blisters, clearly already experimented on!

A shiver of icy fire surged through his body; Li Ping'an clenched his back molars and dug his fingernails into his palm. Beast! These beasts cloaked in human skin!

The iron door quickly shut again and locked. The white‑coated figures muttered low, as if confirming something, then walked toward the front passenger cars. The train let out a muffled whistle, the locomotive puffed white steam, and began to move slowly.

Now!

Li Ping'an darted out like a leopard, using the train's startup noise and the morning mist as cover, and lightning‑fast clung to the train. He chose the junction at the rear of the third‑last ordinary passenger car—a small platform with a handrail, where crew inspect the train.

He nimbly leapt onto the platform, his body pressed against the carriage's outer wall as if glued. The cold wind gusted, rattling his clothes, but he held steady as if welded.

The train accelerated, bursting out of the small station toward the boundless northern wilderness. The clatter of wheels on rails drowned out his faint breathing.

He cautiously felt the carriage junction. The door was locked from the inside, but that didn't stop him. With a subtle internal force, he pried open the simple latch and slipped silently into the carriage aisle.

A sharp scent of disinfectant mixed with an indescribable putrid odor hit his nose, making him gag. The aisle was empty, but he could hear Japanese Soldiers' chatter and the clatter of bowls and chopsticks from the forward carriage—clearly the Fangyi Jishui Bu crew were having breakfast.

Li Ping'an held his breath, sliding backward like a shadow, approaching the junction door of the special carriage. This door was sturdier, apparently added later, and had a small peephole fitted with iron bars.

He leaned close to the peephole and looked inside.

The scene inside churned his stomach. Under the dim yellow light, dozens of iron cages were packed tightly, each holding two or three people. The air was foul, reeking of feces, urine, and rotting flesh. Some people curled motionlessly, neither dead nor alive; others emitted faint whimpers; a few children stared blankly, their eyes showing no fear, only utter stillness.

At the far end of the carriage, a small area was barely separated by a white cloth curtain, containing an iron bed and some bizarre devices, clearly a spot for immediate use.

Li Ping'an's fists clenched with a crackle. He had to do something! But now wasn't the time. Guards patrolled both ends of this carriage; if he acted, he couldn't rescue anyone and would be caught himself.

He forced down the urge to act, quietly slipping back to the platform where he had hidden. The train was careening across the wasteland, flanked by endless dry grass and scattered woods, with no sign of civilization.

He had to wait, wait for the train to reach its terminus—the Demon Cave in Harbin Pingfang District. There, perhaps he could cause a bigger commotion and rescue more people.

The train rumbled northward, each whistle sounding like a death knell for this doomed journey. Li Ping'an pressed against the icy carriage wall, feeling the wheels' vibration beneath him, the fire in his heart burning ever hotter.

After several hours, the train began to slow. In the distance, a massive old building complex gradually emerged—high walls, Electric Grid, watchtower, towering smokestack… this was the Demon Lair masquerading as the Fangyi Jishui Bu, the stronghold of Unit 731!

The train slipped slowly into a dedicated platform. The platform was guarded like iron barrels, filled with rifle‑bearing soldiers and white‑coated personnel. Several canvas‑covered trucks were already waiting on the platform, clearly there to load.

The iron door of the special carriage opened, and the Japanese Soldiers began beating and shouting as they forced the caged people out, clubbing them like livestock and herding them onto the trucks. The white‑coated staff held notebooks, occasionally pointing at someone and muttering a line, after which the unlucky individual was singled out and pulled aside.

Li Ping'an's heart sank to the bottom. Once these people were taken to those laboratories, there was no hope of surviving.

He must act now!

His eyes swept the platform and suddenly fixed on the canvas‑covered trucks. Beneath the canvas seemed to be piles of wooden crates and barrels, looking like… oil?

A mad idea flashed into his mind.

He slipped out silently from the other side of the train, using the shadows of carriages and equipment as cover, ghost‑like creeping toward the trucks. His heightened perception let him stay ahead of patrolling soldiers and staff.

Sure enough, one of the trucks was stacked with several oil drums! He carefully lifted a corner of the canvas and confirmed they were gasoline drums.

That's the one!

He quickly retrieved several homemade delayed‑fire devices from his pack—crafted from materials scavenged from the Tianjin Japanese Soldiers' warehouse, simple yet effective. He deftly stuck the devices onto the bottoms of the oil drums and into the carriage seams, setting the timers.

Then, following the same method, he slipped similar contraptions into a few other trucks that might hold flammable goods and into the junk piles beside the platform.

After finishing, he hurried back into the train's shadows, climbed onto the roof again, crouched low, like a solidified shadow, and waited silently.

The activity on the platform continued. Most had already been forced onto the trucks, and the few singled out by the white coats were escorted elsewhere. The soldiers began sealing the carriages and cleaning up the scene.

Right at that critical moment—

Boom! The first truck suddenly erupted into a fireball! Immediately, a cascade of explosions and flames burst open across the platform in rapid succession!

Fire! Explosion! Enemy attack! Enemy attack! Quick, put out the fire!

The platform instantly turned into a chaotic mess! Soldiers scrambled and shouted in panic, white‑coated staff clutched their heads and fled, the fire‑alarm whistle shrieked. Thick smoke and flames spread rapidly, engulfing the entire platform.

Amid the chaos, no one noticed a large, dark, bird‑like silhouette leaping from the train's roof, slipping silently into the fleeing crowd, then darting away toward the outer side of the high wall.

Li Ping'an didn't look back. He knew the fire devices looked terrifying but couldn't cause major damage, certainly not enough to bring down the big beast.

Yet his goal was achieved.

First, he gave those about‑to‑suffer compatriots a sliver of faint hope—amid the chaos perhaps one or two could slip away.

Second, he sent a message to this Demon Lair: I'm here! Your good days start counting down from today!

Third, and most concrete—this sudden upheaval perfectly concealed his infiltration and escape. Now the entire Unit 731's attention will be drawn inward, never suspecting that an avenging ghost has already slipped into their very core.

He vanished like a wisp of green smoke, skimming the desolate wasteland, disappearing into the early‑winter dusk of Harbin's outskirts.

Next, he must find a safe haven, carefully probe the layout of this Demon Cave, and locate its weak spot.

The fire of vengeance has been lit; now, it must spread to every nook of this human hell.