Chapter 793

D-14134 took a deep breath and checked the left chests of several other agents.

Without exception, they were all like this.

In their backpacks, there were only some food wrappers left, and the water bottles were also empty.

The answer is obvious.

After exhausting all food and water and still not finding the living room, the several agents who regrouped chose to end their lives here in hunger and cold.

D-14134 emptied a backpack, pulled out the pistol, walked back to the door, aimed at the supermarket light bulb, aimed, and fired.

After the supermarket fell into darkness, he brought a chair, blocked the door well, and then carefully felt his way to the edge and jumped down.

"Although the goal wasn't achieved, setting off together here is not bad; at least the hearts won't be used to breed new monsters."

"They are at rest, but what should D-14134 think... so many Foundation agents failed and chose to commit suicide; what can a D-class personnel do?"

"Why think so much? In different environments, what people can think is different. In danger, the highest priority is always survival. Only when you can think about this and that do you have time to start EMO."

The screen transitioned.

D-14134, who was full of confidence at the end of the last screen.

At this very moment, he was running with all his might in the darkness, running in a disheveled manner.

As if behind him was a hellish existence, as if how long he could live depended on how fast he could run.

Not only that, breathing and footsteps had to be as light as possible—slow down breathing, point toes to the ground, use willpower to suppress the protests of muscles due to hypoxia and fatigue.

But this was far from over.

This damn space was piled with all kinds of debris, visible and invisible under infrared vision.

Each one was like a hidden tripwire.

He had to avoid collisions, not be tripped by them, and even more, pray that he wouldn't touch shadow matter.

Fortunately, there were no accidents along the way.

He saw the door to the study again, immediately accelerated, quickly opened the door, went in, closed it, and then leaned against the door.

Of course, the next thing to do was to hold his breath, even if his lungs felt like they were burning, and his throat was swollen and painful.

Afterward, he pressed his ear against the door, forcibly ignoring the heartbeat that kept jumping, and carefully distinguished the movement outside.

Until confirming that nothing was approaching, D-14134 let out a breath, his whole body slowly slumped to the ground, breathing the foul air.

"It's the fifth day..."

D-14134 raised his arm and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

For the past five days, he was like a mouse that had entered a cat's nest, or cheese that had fallen into a rat's nest, running left and right, and actually plotting how to counter-kill.

Life here was not easy.

D-14134 not only failed to find the nest the agent mentioned, but was also almost killed by the black humanoid entity.

Thanks to his marksmanship being quite good, even one against three, he could quickly and accurately kill them.

He panted, his thinking unable to concentrate, like a ball of tangled hemp.

Did the Foundation not send anyone else in?

With their cold style, stopping this behavior that could be called suicide for the sake of human lives seemed a bit unrealistic.

As for retreating, giving up... they shouldn't, right?

Where should he try his luck next?

Where did the supermarket run off to now?

D-14134 shook his head, trying hard to turn his thoughts back to the next actions and plans to suppress the negative emotions in his heart.

D-class personnel staying with Foundation agents, thinking about these questions is simply suffocating!

The most important thing now is to replenish water and energy.

D-14134 pulled over the agent's backpack—now it was his—and took out food from it.

He didn't know what this was, but from the texture and taste, it seemed to be something like a biscuit.

He carefully broke off a piece, put it in his mouth, and chewed slowly.

Taking this time to relax his tense heartstrings, while thinking about some arrangements for the next steps—

There were still more than ten packs of food, which should be able to support him for a few days;

Water was a bit scarce, maybe only enough for one day.

However, water was more common than food, and traces could be found every 5 "rooms" or so, but it was far from reaching the standard for drinking.

But then again, being able to survive in this ghost place was already the greatest standard.

While softening the biscuits with saliva, he frowned.

Foundation agents could always find all kinds of strange things, and he had "experienced" some before.

But compared to this ghost-like space, those strange-shaped, weird-purpose SCPs were all amiable.

This place was like a low-quality kaleidoscope, constantly rotating and swallowing outsiders.

Every visitor could only be desperate and powerless about this.

He swallowed the food paste in his mouth, sent it into his stomach with precious mineral water, and then closed his eyes to rest for a while.

When he felt it was about time, D-14134 took out Barclay's report and read it again.

When he first saw it, he felt he might be the chosen guy to purify this space full of blasphemy.

Now looking at it again, he felt he was no different from the dead agents, or even worse.

--After all, he had never seen a small mountain piled up with hearts.

"My roommate called you 'Foundation dogs', I wasn't on the same path as you originally."

"You guys who have been specially trained all died in pairs, and then I came alone to do this?"

D-14134 seemed to have remembered something funny, the corners of his mouth hooked into an angle, and he suddenly hugged his stomach and laughed.

But this ended quickly.

He supported himself with his arms, sat up again, and looked at the agents lying side by side in the corner—he had moved them to a place, so as not to get in the way when he had to escape one day.

While looking, D-14134 unconsciously rubbed the report in his hand, his eyes focused on the infinite distance.

"Foundation Agent B3.0aclay," he said.

"Baclay who committed suicide after writing the report," he said again.

D-14134 slowly let out a breath and closed his eyes.

Even if he took the initiative to take on this "errand", he had ten thousand reasons to give up halfway, learn from Agent Baclay, point the pistol at his heart, pull the trigger, and end it all.

He was D-class personnel, had no good impression of the Foundation at all, and didn't need to listen to their instructions at this time;

He had no happy or bitter-sweet experiences in his life, and didn't need to sacrifice himself for this world;

He was alone, and his weapons and food were all picked up...

His eyelids trembled slightly, his expression remained unchanged, and countless thoughts and ideas flashed through his heart.

After a struggle, finally, he opened his eyes.

D-14134 looked down at the report; although it was dangerous to be exposed to the light source, he still turned on the flashlight.

For the first time.

In the light, he read it carefully and completely.

Then he said calmly: "I promised you... I'll try."

He couldn't describe the feeling flowing in his body at this moment.

And it was precisely this feeling that urged him to firm up his position, for the first time not flinching, and continuing to choose to be a hero.

Continuing to carry the title that should have been forever insulated from prisoners.

Even if no one knew.

He—D-class number 14134—cautiously folded the report and stuffed it into Agent Baclay's withered hand.

"I'm going to try my luck."

Afterward, he took the dagger from another agent, took a fully loaded magazine, and continued to go out.