Chapter 163: The Boundless Dark Realm 18
These messages contained too much information, and Kui Xin’s brain was struggling to process it all.
The previous mission had been confined to the region of Jingchu, but this time the mission scope expanded significantly. If things continued like this, could there be global regional tasks in the future?
Both He Kangshi and Su Rong mentioned “Tonglin City” in their mission descriptions; other players who received the trigger notifications were likely aware of this location as well. If they became motivated, they would flock to Tonglin City to carry out the missions assigned by the game. Tonglin City, being one of the starting points of the anomalies, indicated that more places beyond it had experienced terrifying incidents. Where exactly were those other anomaly sites?
Kui Xin took a moment to cool down before responding individually.
“I need more confirmation. Hold on,” she sent to He Kangshi.
She tried to avoid replying to three people at once, spacing out her responses.
…
“Has that girl replied?” asked Xie Gankqing.
Yu Qiwen sat in front of the computer, saying, “Not yet, she might still be busy.”
“This regional mission doesn’t seem to be of the same magnitude as the last one; the difficulty must differ significantly too,” said Yuan Lu, his eyes fixed on the forum. “‘Dark Realm’s Descent’ — this task sounds really strange…”
“The dark world has descended? Something not belonging to our world has descended? It seems so if we interpret it literally,” Yu Qiwen said. “Players speculated that with the fusion of worlds, xenomorphs and gods would appear in our world. Could ‘Dark Realm’s Descent’ be a premonition?”
Xie Gankqing pinched the bridge of his nose, solemnly saying, “But the key question is, why is it specifically Tonglin City?”
Yuan Lu organized his thoughts, “Hetero-blooded Fang Zhi fled to Tonglin City. It’s very probable he was killed there too. Right after he appeared in Tonglin City, he died almost immediately, and the system announced that someone had completed the regional mission. Coincidentally, the forum displayed a notification about Remover 233 killing the Proxy… Now, the second regional mission has still refreshed in Tonglin City.”
” Those events tie together… Think about it, many extraordinary individuals gathered in Tonglin City. A hetero-blooded under system investigation and an independent Remover who slew the hetero-blooded… ” Xie Gankqing pondered. “Remember, Fang Zhi seemed to have gone willingly to Tonglin City, where he was killed shortly after. Was something attracting him to Tonglin City?”
“Either Tonglin City itself is special, or someone significant is hiding there.” Yu Qiwen concluded, “Otherwise, I can’t comprehend why such a small city would become a crucial location twice for completing and issuing a regional task.”
Yuan Lu proposed another possibility, “Perhaps there’s a causal relationship between the first and the second regional missions. The second task is a continuation of the first; the two aren’t independent.”
“Certainly holds water,” Xie Gankqing pulled up his system panel again to confirm the text.
“【Task Description】: Twisted shadows approach once more, and danger draws near stealthily. Someone solved our troubles when they arrived, but the trouble is back. Do you want to rely on others to solve this, or do you want to face it yourself? Now, inexplicable wild boar attacks occur in Tonglin City; the situation might be far more complicated. Investigate the truth behind the attacks.”
“You need to consider the risks associated with accepting the task and the consequences should it fail. Life is invaluable; this isn’t merely a figure of speech.”
Yuan Lu and Yu Qiwen received the same task description as Xie Gankqing.
Based on previous experience, failing to complete a mission didn’t result in penalties, so all three accepted the task. However, they were hesitant about whether to go to Tonglin City.
“Tonglin City seems like an ice-covered lake to me,” Yu Qiwen said.
“Superficially quiet, but brimming with hidden cracks. One misstep means falling into an icy crevice and never climbing back up,” Yuan Lu added, “Danger hides beneath the ice.”
“Exactly what I meant,” Yu Qiwen rubbed his head. “Kui Xin will be my classmate after her university registration; I’m genuinely worried about her. She lives there and can’t escape.”
“I’ve sent her warnings,” Yuan Lu said, “Normal people won’t rush to danger. She strikes me as clever; her survival in a high-death-rate environment is impressive.”
“So… are we going to Tonglin City?” Yu Qiwen asked.
“I’m hesitant,” Yuan Lu said slowly, “What good would it do you? You have extraordinary abilities and skills, but what happens if you die? Who takes care of your parents, and do you want to go to university peacefully? Keeping an adventure spirit after the trials of the Second World, it seems like you’re courting death.”
“Ah… Fine,” Yu Qiwen stopped, wavering.
“The less hackers are seen, the better. With a computer, a lot can be done,” Xie Gankqing said.
“We can’t lead this; let’s wait and see.” Yuan Lu commented. “We can anticipate various players heading to Tonglin City. We’ll wait and decide based on the situation.”
Yu Qiwen nodded anxiously.
Their guild had begun, riddled with difficulties. The first obstacle was that most players preferred going solo rather than forming groups, making recruitment nearly impossible. Thus, the guild consisted of just the three of them.
With many players gathering in Tonglin City, Yu Qiwen sensed it was an opportunity for offline interactions and possibly unity.
This cooperation was spurred by external pressures rather than player developments.
…
As night fell, Kui Xin walked alone in the streets.
In the First World, apart from late evenings during senior year, Kui Xin always returned home by curfew, but now it was past eleven, and she was on the street. In the Second World, she often did this, where crime rates were high, venturing out at night either to patrol or commit murder. In the First World, at least she didn’t have to worry about bullets interrupting her journey, sending her into a death rebirth.
“Damn, this wild pig can really run,” Kui Xin held her phone to watch surveillance footage, then turned sharply and ran ahead.
She had seen on her computer that wild pigs were running around the city, but the route lacked safe locations for teleportation, so she used no extraordinary abilities in getting there. By the time she reached the scene, the wild boar had already escaped. Not every street had surveillance, forcing her to search for quite a while before finding it again.
Each time she went out, Kui Xin came fully armed; her face was obscured, mask and hood included, and a razor-sharp kitchen knife was clipped to her waist at the rear.
Soon enough, she caught up to the wild boars.
The wild boar was running wildly on the street, attempting to bite an old man passing by at night, causing the man to retreat frantically, nearly tripping over. Kui Xin swiftly picked up half a brick from a flower bed beside the road, raised her arm to smash it towards the wild boar, hitting its head squarely.
The wild boar cried out frantically, locking its bloodshot eyes onto Kui Xin nearby.
She blew a taunting whistle, enraging the boar instantaneously, which then charged at her. Kui Xin dashed away.
It wasn’t that her combat skills had declined, but there were scattered pedestrians nearby, making it inconvenient to engage; she slowed down slightly to prevent the wild boar from losing track.
The old man watching the spectacle shouted in alarm, yelling into his phone, “Run quickly! I’m calling the police! Does anyone help? A little girl is being chased by a wild boar!”
The owners of nearby twenty-four-hour stores heard the old man’s cries and rushed out with brooms to aid Kui Xin in chasing the boar. But all they saw was a blurry outline of Kui Xin.
Kui Xin moved to the right, veering into a back alley in the city center, and stopped as soon as she confirmed there were no cameras or bystanders. The wild boar stopped too, lifting its fangs aggressively.
Kui Xin turned and snapped her fingers.
“Crack!” A vortex of space unfolded instantly under the noise.
The charging wild boar couldn’t brake in time and ran straight into the spatial vortex inside.
“I finally got it,” Kui Xin exhaled.
She positioned the spatial vortex outside the city in a secluded area covered with thick vegetation, ensuring no disturbances.
Without wasting time, Kui Xin leapt through the spatial vortex before anyone else could arrive.
Minutes later, a police patrol car arrived, followed by a store owner with a broom, and the exhausted old man. However, when they reached the area where Kui Xin had encountered the wild boar, there was nothing and nobody in sight.
“It probably ran off. That thing’s extremely swift,” a police officer noted. “Let’s keep patrolling to prevent any accidents involving the wild boar.”
…
In the dense grass, Kui Xin examined the dead boar using her flashlight.
Having replaced her human eyes with mechanical ones, Kui Xin no longer needed a flashlight, nor goggles, when walking at night. Returning to the First World felt odd, her mechanical eyes being accustomed to the sharp, clear imagery it provided.
The wild boar was cut cleanly by Kui Xin using the spatial vortex technique, leaving an immaculate cross-section. The innards were perfectly divided, showing organs that remained active despite being split in half. Dark red blood stained the area, soaking the ground.
Kui Xin touched some organs with a gloved hand, turning them over; her face showed a mixture of disgust and surprise.
Those organs were adorned with various growths, pulsating red tumors… the intestines and stomach of the wild boar were surprisingly empty, filled instead with a meshwork of meat fibers, and even when the stick brushed against the flesh, the mass twitched slightly.
Kui Xin went to continue her examination, but suddenly, small blood bubbles started appearing on the boar’s body. They grew rapidly, eventually turning it into a pool of blood, disappearing silently into the earth.
Kui Xin’s eyebrows jumped, compressing the stick into pieces out of frustration.
The transformation of the corpse into blood, a phenomenon associated with highly digested hetero-blood, appeared only on hetero-blood individuals in the First World. How could the carcass of a First World wild boar display similar effects?
After leaving Hei Hai City, Kui Xin had learned extensively about xenomorphs—specifically their relation to divine blood. The power-holding entities within both the Federation and large conglomerates sponsored studies on divine blood, pursuing low-pollution methods. They sought to extend their lives using such powers.
Experimental animals were used in these research facilities, producing bizarre mutations like eight hands on rats, another pair of eyes on monkeys, and tentacles for gorillas. These animals typically expired swiftly, turning their bodies into pools of blood.
Yet, no xenomorphs existed in the First World; humans didn’t experiment on animals here. Why was this anomaly present in the wild boar?
Kui Xin furrowed her brows and backed away from the blood-soaked earth.
She deliberated for a long time before deciding to use the spatial vortex, dividing the contaminated soil into multiple trips and moving it to an abandoned trash bin on the street.
Previously, when protecting He Kangshi on the train, Kui Xin had slain a hetero-blooded individual and kept tracking the situation. She obtained surveillance records via data manipulation, discovering that the blood of hetero-blooded was contaminative, inciting rage in animals and boosting their aggressiveness.
However, Kui Xin knew that the blood from hetero-blooded dying in the Second World typically didn’t possess those terrifying plague-like properties. Xueyao Shu and even Augus hadn’t mentioned this trait during training.
Out of caution, Kui Xin decided to remove the contaminated soil and dispose of it. Burning it seemed the only option to try.
Kui Xin transported the trash bin containing red-stained earth via the spatial vortex to a secluded spot and purchased two large barrels of cooking oil. After multiple jumps, she moved everything to an open and remote location outside the city.
Pouring the oil and igniting it, she completed the process seamlessly.
Flames burst forth.
Once the fire settled, Kui Xin teleported back, no longer intending to return home to sort intelligence.
Since killing Fang Zhi, Kui Xin had stayed away from the disused tobacco factory. Though she had taken care of the aftermath, his blood had spilled all over the place.
Standing there, she opened a spatial vortex, stepping into the deep blue void. Dust-covered cement crunched underfoot, echoes reverberated in the vast, empty factory, and wind blew through broken windows, creating eerie noises.
A foul odor assaulted her nostrils, reminiscent of animal feces.
Suspicious movement caught her eye. Kui Xin looked up, seeing an unclear black shadow hanging from the fragmented ceiling.
The shadow moved, revealing eight vicious, blood-red eyes.