Chapter 302: Not One Left Behind

Pang Dakun, still struggling to squeeze inside, had no interest in the chatter outside; he focused entirely, exerting force with his toes, fingers, elbows, and knees—the first two meters were especially narrow, but once past, the rest was much easier, and he passed through without much effort.

"Phew!"

Arriving at the suspected laboratory ruins, Pang Dakun shifted his posture; since the ceiling was too low, he crouched down, pulled out a lipstick-sized flashlight from his belt, and shone it—immediately recoiling in shock, slamming his back against the wall and bumping his head.

There lay a man in the corner, pinned under a collapsed ergonomic chair; precisely because of that chair, it had blocked much of the falling bricks and stones, yet he still looked horrific.

His head was a bloody mess, his face caked with dust and grime; his body showed no obvious external injuries, but given the prior explosion, he must have suffered severe internal trauma.

At this moment, the man squinted at Pang Dakun, his cracked lips caked with dirt, struggling to speak.

Pang Dakun saw the man's lips move, clicked his tongue, and muttered: "Amitabha, he's still alive, still alive…"

Muttering to himself, he didn't care what the man was trying to say, crouched over to Xie Yanshan, and without hesitation shoved the zombie thalamus into his mouth, then jammed his finger down his throat to ensure swallowing.

"Ugh… puke…"

The dying Xie Yanshan rolled his eyes, his limbs convulsing violently; suddenly, he raised his arm and grabbed Pang Dakun's arm—like a final flicker of life, driven only by unspent rage.

He set Xie Yanshan's arm aside and turned to leave, resolute, with not a trace of hesitation.

"Alright, rest well!"

Zhang Su crouched at the tunnel entrance, saw Pang Dakun's feet emerge, pulled him out with a tug, and asked at once: "How'd it go? Did you give it to him?"

After hearing Pang Dakun's account, Zhang Su had no confidence either; their current understanding of the thalamus's healing limits was nonexistent—they could only hope for a miracle.

"Alright, then wait."

"Gave it, gave it."

As expected, after being praised, Pang Dakun stood proudly to the side, struck a cool pose, and pulled out a cigarette to light it.

"I'm saving you, don't mess around!"

Pang Dakun put on the air of a little adult, mimicking the tone his grandfather used to scold him.

As he spoke, he gave himself a thumbs-up.

No matter how much he briefly revived, Xie Yanshan's arm had no strength—it didn't affect Pang Dakun at all; once his fingers no longer felt the zombie thalamus, he let out a long breath.

Zhang Su also found it odd, but still offered praise—he knew Pang Dakun craved recognition more than material rewards.

"Don't just show off, Dakun—how's Xie Yanshan really doing? How bad are his injuries?"

"Good, good. That's how you handle things—steady, truly steady."

Pang Dakun gestured as he spoke: "He was lying in the ruins, barely breathing, crushed under a chair, with big rocks on top, face covered in blood like a burst waterfall—definitely internal injuries. I didn't move him an inch—if he died, don't blame me."

Pang Dakun stood up, brushed off the dust, took the down jacket from Qi Xiaoshuai, and quickly put it on, swearing: "Don't worry, Uncle—my grandpa once had a dog that got sick; the vet gave medicine and taught me to feed it by shoving it straight down its throat—worked perfectly!"

The people around him—including those above the pit who'd heard the conversation—all wore strange expressions…

Thud… rumble…

Zhang Su asked.

During the wait, the group together hauled the blood-red corpse out of the pit; as Zhang Su rummaged around, trying to spot any valuable items, a commotion erupted from the opposite side of the tunnel.

Heavy objects rolled to a stop, then silence.

Nearly fifteen minutes passed; Xie Yanshan, astonished, felt his body fully healed, his shock plain to see—he didn't dare ask for help again, but got up himself, kicked up dust, hurried to the tunnel entrance, and said: "Cough… friends outside, thank you for the rescue—I… I'm better?"

Xie Yanshan's Mandarin was heavily accented, filled with doubt—he wasn't even sure if he was truly healed, but his voice now carried strong energy, nothing like the dying gasp he'd had moments ago.

"I'm Zhang Su from Tianma Yu. Pan Guoliang told me you're Deputy Team Leader Xie Yanshan of the Dragon Team. Do you still feel any discomfort?"

Zhang Su called out toward the tunnel entrance.

"Mr. Zhang, hello—yes, I'm Xie Yanshan. Thank you for the rescue. I feel fine now—probably recovered. But this healing speed… did that young man just give me zombie organ extract?"

The moment Xie Yanshan spoke, Zhang Su's heart stirred.

Indeed, a true expert—just by experiencing the thalamus's miracle, he'd guessed it almost perfectly.

Pan Guoliang, standing above the pit, heard Xie Yanshan's words and turned green—but then thought: as long as it saves lives, who cares what he ate!

"I found this gene therapy in a secret lab. If you can move, get out quickly—this place could collapse at any moment."

Zhang Su urged him on; if the thalamus worked, it would surely restore Xie Yanshan completely. As for the thalamus's origins, he'd make up any lie—he could let people speculate, but never confirm anything outright!

"I… uh… okay, I'm coming out now. If I need help, please assist me."

Xie Yanshan felt embarrassed to ask, and immediately began crawling out of the pit.

Pang Dakun, most experienced in such operations, assisted and guided him, and soon pulled Xie Yanshan free from the narrow ruins.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Zhang. Thank you for saving me—I'll never forget it."

After crawling out of the tunnel, Xie Yanshan squinted, then grabbed Qi Xiaoshuai's hand and shook it vigorously.

Zhang Su stood aside, watching Xie Yanshan—clearly severely nearsighted—and expected some mad-scientist look, but instead found a refined middle-aged man, his demeanor and speech vaguely similar to Yu Wen.

But his current appearance was terrifying: sixty percent of his face covered in blood and grime, giving him the vibe of Ma Ning'er who'd mastered the Hundred Poisons Art…

"Uh, I'm not Brother Su—over there, over there…"

Qi Xiaoshuai, embarrassed, quickly guided Xie Yanshan toward Zhang Su.

"Oh oh." Xie Yanshan's eyes were nearly shut, but with over a thousand degrees of myopia, seeing was no different from blindness; seeing someone standing ahead, he reached out again: "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Zhang—thank you for saving my life!"

Zhang Su shook Xie Yanshan's hand and said: "Not just me—you owe this young man thanks too. Without him, you'd never have gotten the medicine down your throat!"

"Yes yes." Xie Yanshan didn't hesitate—he sincerely thanked Pang Dakun again; the brutal feeding method meant nothing to him.

To be alive was the greatest blessing!

"Brother Su, catch!"

Zhang Su heard Zheng Xinyu call from above, looked up, and saw her toss down a pack of wet wipes.

"Team Leader Xie, wipe your face."

Zhang Su pulled out several cold alcohol wipes and handed them to Xie Yanshan; regular wipes had frozen solid in the cold—only alcohol wipes were usable.

"Oh, oh. Thank you, thank you, Mr. Zhang."

Xie Yanshan accepted the wipes with profuse gratitude—he knew exactly how bad his face looked; even if he couldn't see it, it felt disgusting…

"No need to thank me, Team Leader Xie—what are your plans now?" Zhang Su asked.

"Plans…"

As he wiped the blood and dirt from his face, Xie Yanshan glanced at the ruined secret lab behind him, gave a bitter laugh, and said: "The Azure Dragon Corps is now a pile of ashes. If Mr. Zhang doesn't mind, I'd like to join Tianma Yu."

Zhang Su wasn't surprised by this choice; seeing the 【31/31】 display in his mind, he felt both relief and melancholy—if he'd known this would happen, choosing Option A would've earned him an even better reward.

(End of Chapter)