Chapter 8: The Taste of Decay

「Vomiting————————」

Crimson liquor, half-digested protein chunks, and skewered meat spilled from Zhou Yun’s throat, pooling into a stinking heap on the muddy ground.

Only after the freight train behind him rumbled away along its crumbling rails did his face regain a hint of color.

Last night, Old One-Eye had treated him to a glass of wine foaming with crimson bubbles to thank him for taking the job,

then kept his promise by buying drinks for all the hive workers in the bar, and himself drank far too much.

Old One-Eye’s alcohol—fermented somewhere in a dark sewer or cellar—was anyone’s guess how many toxic alcohols and dangerous concoctions it contained,

and Zhou Yun, who usually got headaches after just a couple of drinks, now felt as if Angaron, Second Brother Chaos, and the Emperor himself were wrestling violently inside his skull, leaving him dazed and nauseous, forced to spend the night in the bar’s back room.

The next morning, still half-unconscious, he was shoved onto a swaying freight car by Old One-Eye’s orders.

This broken train transported goods between hive districts, its tracks so decayed they were barely maintained, lurching terrifyingly with every motion,

and the surrounding corridors were packed with hiveside dwellings—so much so the train seemed to pass through apartment blocks, even with clothes hanging across the tracks.

Several times Zhou Yun was certain the train would drag the nearby residents straight to the Emperor’s feet.

「Vomiting————————」

After spitting out a few mouthfuls of sour fluid, only a dry, gagging nausea rose in his throat—nothing more to expel.

「I could offer you a far more efficient mode of transport.」

The winged figure within the white light fluttered its wings and said:

「I can grant you flight through the skies.」

「The hive has no skies—and do you even have this ability?」 Zhou Yun gave the white-light figure a strange look.

「Simply infuse a sliver of my spiritual energy into your body, and wings shall grow upon you——————」

As he spoke, the white-light figure flickered its pristine white wings behind it.

「Stop, stop, stop—that sounds like some kind of warp corruption.」

Zhou Yun quickly waved his hands in refusal—he had no desire to become a winged bird-man,

for if he suddenly sprouted wings, he’d be far more likely to be labeled a mutant than a saint or angel.

Even in the lower hive, which might as well be humanity’s sewer, hive dwellers still occasionally sighed with relief that they weren’t born in the underhive.

At least he wasn’t born in the underhive; at least he had a pure human skull, not some grotesque mutant deformity.

The deepest layer beneath the lower hive—the dark, filthy gutters—belonged to mutants, cultists, monsters, and madmen: the underhive.

Compared to that, the lower hive was paradise.

「Do you have to stand right in the middle of the road beside your vomit?」

A low voice interrupted Zhou Yun’s thoughts.

Two figures, cloaked in thick, hooded mantles, stood before him.

Zhou Yun blinked—he realized he and his vomit had completely blocked the narrow alleyway.

「Montg, have you forgotten the angel’s teachings? Patience, as we show in our devotion to our god.」

The taller hooded man admonished the one who had spoken.

Then he turned to Zhou Yun.

Zhou Yun stepped aside, clearing the path for them.

The tall man gave Zhou Yun a slight nod of thanks, and the two passed by.

Whether it was his imagination or not, Zhou Yun faintly caught the sweet, rotting-fruit stench clinging to the two as they brushed past him.

He thought he heard a low buzzing, and saw tiny black grains—like fruit flies—flitting across his vision.

A faint glow flickered at the corner of his eye; white wings fluttered gently twice.

The illusory images vanished from Zhou Yun’s sight.

「Not an illusion.」 The winged figure within the white light whispered.

Zhou Yun’s discomfort immediately eased by half.

He glanced toward where the two figures had disappeared, but only shook his head.

Curiosity was not a virtue in this world—he had no interest in judging others’ purity,

and besides, the two had shown no hostility toward him.

In his memory, Asford had never seen any large-scale cult activity before the swarms descended.

So unless they were gene-thieves, Zhou Yun had no interest in giving them a second look.

He navigated the labyrinthine streets, following the map given by Luo Ge toward the location where the entrance to Old District Eight had been uncovered.

In moments, Zhou Yun saw the so-called entrance to Old District Eight—

mainly because it was impossible to miss.

It was a collapsed ruin that had crashed straight through the hive’s artificial ground, plunging into the deep void below.

According to Old One-Eye’s intel, a scavenger had found a crushed can wedged between two buildings,

pulled it free without noticing the warning sign beside it: 「The nearby buildings are supported by this can. Do not move.」

The moment the can was removed, the surrounding buildings collapsed instantly, smashing a crater through the hive’s artificial surface and exposing the buried Old District Eight beneath.

Zhou Yun could only think: Hive routine. He was used to it.

The vast majority of hive structures were like code written by high-school dropouts—entirely dependent on some glitch to remain standing.

If a hive building hasn’t collapsed, don’t touch it—no one knows whether its continued existence hinges on something as trivial as the can you’re staring at.

Zhou Yun took a few steps and noticed the crater was now cordoned off—likely by local gang members.

He shook his head. Not yet. He wasn’t ready to enter.

His head still throbbed faintly, his throat still churned with nausea—he needed to rest nearby first.

Zhou Yun knocked on the door of a shabby dwelling near the entrance to Old District Eight.

「Shit, who the hell is it now? I don’t house weirdos overnight.」

A grumbling voice came from inside.

A clatter of metal, then a hulking hive worker’s face, covered in fat and grime, peered through the crack, sizing Zhou Yun up.

Zhou Yun said nothing—only reached into his pocket.

「Kid, I don’t let people stay here. Go find a trash pile——————」

Zhou Yun slipped a pack of LHO cigarettes through the gap. The man froze, then forced a grotesquely wide grin.

「Master, please, come in at once!」

(End of Chapter)