290: Furnace Passage, Vertical Hell

Chapter 290: Incinerator Passage, Vertical Hell. Boom!

A massive explosion sounded outside the window.

A black armed Drone hovered outside the shattered floor-to-ceiling window, its red laser sight already converging on Chen Mo's forehead.

"Listen, those inside! Get down immediately!"

The electronic voice from the loudspeaker was cold and ruthless. "This is the Eden Security Department. You are under arrest for illegal trespassing..."

Da da da!

Chen Mo didn't wait for it to finish.

He raised his hand.

The palm of his golden mechanical arm suddenly flipped open, revealing a miniature pulse cannon muzzle he had just torn off the wall.

A flash of blue light streaked past.

The priceless Drone plummeted like a swatted fly, exploding into a fireball in the rainy night.

"Nice modification."

Chen Mo glanced at his palm.

"That was my shop's treasure!" the Magician screamed. "You owe me eight million!"

"Put it on my tab."

Chen Mo turned around. "Where's the exit?"

"The main entrance is definitely out."

The Magician walked to a bookshelf in the corner of the room and pulled out a thick paper book.

Rumble.

The bookshelf slid aside, revealing a pitch-black chute.

A foul stench of decay wafted out.

"Medical waste disposal passage."

She pointed down. "It leads directly to the incinerator on the third basement level. The incinerator is currently cooling down for maintenance. You have five minutes to climb out, or the next batch of medical waste will bury you."

Chen Mo didn't even look; he jumped right in, bracing his hands against the edges of the chute.

"Hey."

The Magician suddenly called out to him.

Chen Mo looked back.

"I saw something in your heart's underlying code just now."

The Magician's expression turned odd—a type of confusion a scientist feels when seeing an unexplainable phenomenon.

"A string of code is locked; no matter how I tried to breach it, it wouldn't open. There's a signature on it."

"Whose?"

"Ruan Qiushui."

The Magician stared into Chen Mo's eyes. "Not that noisy green text in your head, and not some code name. It's... a dead person's signature."

Chen Mo's pupils constricted sharply.

But he had no time to ask.

Footsteps were approaching outside the door; the demolition team was planting explosives to breach it.

"Thanks."

Chen Mo let go.

His body instantly slid into the darkness.

The moment his figure vanished, the room's door was blown open.

A squad of fully armed security personnel rushed in, muzzles pointed at the only living person in the room.

The Magician calmly raised her hands, the metal mask covering half her face glinting coldly.

"Don't be nervous, gentlemen."

She looked at the still-smoking chute opening, a playful smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

"I just finished a big deal. It's a real pity... such a perfect test subject will soon be burned to ashes."

...The chute was long and not straight.

Chen Mo slid down the pipe at high speed like a rat flushed down a sewer.

He was surrounded by slimy liquid—possibly blood, possibly some kind of chemical agent.

Thud!

A muffled sound.

He fell heavily onto a pile of something soft.

The sensation was disgusting.

Chen Mo turned on his mechanical eye's night vision mode.

The moment he saw what was beneath him, even with his iron nerves, his stomach couldn't help but churn.

They were severed limbs.

Thousands of discarded prosthetic limbs, interspersed with blackened biological tissue.

This was the filthiest drainage outlet of the glamorous "The Ladder."

"What a wonderful spot."

green text popped up again. "The radiation levels and biochemical pollution index here are off the charts. It's perfect for masking the scent of that nuclear bomb inside you."

"Shut up."

Chen Mo climbed out of the mountain of corpses, shaking off a length of intestine stuck to his golden arm.

"Where are we now?"

"Third basement level. Two hundred meters to the east is a maintenance hatch leading to the main freight elevator shaft of 'The Ladder'."

green text provided navigation. "That old man wants you to go to the top floor. Forget about the passenger elevators; there's identity verification every ten floors. Only the freight elevators use the logistics channel, where security is the loosest."

"But there's a problem."

Ruan Qiushui, who had been silent in his mind, suddenly spoke, her voice trembling slightly. "That freight elevator... is currently stopped on the 80th floor. And we are on the third basement level."

"So?"

"So you have to climb up."

green text sounded a bit gleeful. "An eight-hundred-meter vertical shaft. Plus, the shaft is filled with high-voltage cables and laser sensors. Good luck, Spider-Man."

Chen Mo looked up.

Above him was a massive, bottomless black hole.

He could faintly see red warning lights flashing hundreds of meters up.

He had less than 46 hours left.

And his fuel was burning at a terrifying rate.

"Climb."

Chen Mo spat out a mouthful of rust-flavored saliva.

His golden fingers slammed into the hard concrete of the shaft wall, sparks flying from his fingertips.

"As long as I don't die, I'll keep climbing."

Like a gecko with a severed tail, dragging his heart that could explode at any moment, he began climbing toward the highest point of the city—and its darkest place.

Rainwater flowed down the shaft, pouring onto his scalding back.

Sizzling.

It was like quenching metal, or like a final send-off... The incinerator's preheating indicator light flashed in the darkness like the bloodshot eye of some giant beast.

The exhaust fan began to spin.

The low rumble made the mountain of corpses beneath his feet vibrate.

Chen Mo could even feel the crisp sounds of those severed limbs and scrap metal pressing and rubbing against each other.

"Two minutes left."

The green characters were projected directly onto the center of his retina, even thoughtfully accompanied by a countdown. "Unless you want to experience what a sweet potato in a microwave feels like, I suggest you get moving."

Chen Mo ignored it.

He crushed a carbon-fiber skull of unknown origin underfoot, using the momentum to leap toward a circular valve labeled "Maintenance Hatch."

The valve was rusted shut.

It was painted with bright red warning paint: High Voltage Danger, Do Not Open.

Chen Mo raised his left hand.

The gold-and-black mechanical arm flowed with a fierce luster in the dim light.

There was no powering up.

He simply spread his five fingers and gripped the edge of the valve.

A feedback sensation of metal deforming came from his fingertips, as if he were squeezing a block of butter left out for too long.

"Open."

Chen Mo grunted low.

The hydraulic transmission issued a short shriek.

Crack!

The five-centimeter-thick alloy valve, along with half a circle of concrete wall, was ripped off by sheer force.

Dust billowed up.

A cold wind smelling of ozone and machine oil poured in from the opening, dispersing the foul odor in the incineration room.

"This is the eight-million-dollar craftsmanship?"

green text seemed very excited. "It's a bit ugly, but this torque could twist a Violent Terrorist Response Unit member's head off to use as a soccer ball."

Chen Mo threw away the scrap metal in his hand and crawled into the opening.

Behind him, a massive roar of flames erupted.

The heatwave licked the soles of his shoes, the momentary high temperature distorting the air.

He didn't look back, closing the inner isolation gate behind him.

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