301: Chapter 301 Specimens Should Keep Silent

Chapter 301: Specimens Should Just Shut Up. The sound of the lid closing was very soft.

Like a sigh.

Thick bulletproof glass cut off all sound; the old man was still inside, mouth wide open and roaring, spittle spraying against the inner glass wall, but not even a whisper of wind could be heard outside.

Chen Mo stood before the console, his finger hovering over the red button labeled "Inject Liquid."

His hand was shaking.

Not because of hesitation.

It was because his muscle fibers had been boiled by the high temperature until they lost their elasticity; even the simplest movement of lifting his hand required mobilizing every nerve in his body to force the pull.

"Ple... please..."

The old man pressed against the glass, his face squeezed and deformed, his pale lips opening and closing.

Chen Mo could read lips.

"I am... your father..."

Chen Mo expressionlessly pressed the button.

Gurgle.

Pale yellow liquid welled up from the bottom of the massive glass tank.

It was a high-concentration preservative, mixed with neuro-anesthetics and cell-fixing fluid.

The liquid level rose rapidly.

First, it submerged the old man's ankles, then his knees.

The old man began to jump frantically, like a rat dropped into a frying pan.

He scratched desperately at the smooth glass walls, his fingernails snapping off, blood mixing into the yellow liquid to trail murky red lines.

"green text, record."

Chen Mo's voice was hoarse, as if he had two pieces of glowing red charcoal in his throat.

"Record what? His death throes?" green text flickered rapidly across his mind. "You still have the leisure to care about him? Your cooling pump has melted! Only the backup cycle is holding on now; in another minute, you'll explode like an overcharged balloon!"

"Record the serial number."

Chen Mo stared at the old man, who was now floating in the tank.

The liquid passed the old man's chest and swept over his neck.

That wrinkled face turned the color of pig liver due to suffocation, eyes bulging, staring fixedly at Chen Mo with venomous resentment and terror.

Chen Mo raised his hand and, using a blood-stained finger, wrote a line of text on the label slot outside the glass tank.

[No. 000: Failure]

Gurgle gurgle.

The last bubbles emerged from the old man's nostrils.

He convulsed violently a few times in the liquid, his hands clawing forward stiffly before finally drooping slowly, like a salted fish being marinated, suspended among numerous severed limbs.

It went quiet.

Chen Mo turned around, his body swaying once before slamming heavily against the console.

Sizzle—!

A gash split open on his chest, but what sprayed out this time wasn't blood, but white high-pressure steam.

"Warning! Core temperature 210 degrees! Warning!"

The red alerts on his retina flashed so rapidly they blurred into a single sheet of light.

"Cold..."

Chen Mo gasped, his vision starting to blur. "I need... cold..."

"Over there! Three o'clock direction!" green text shouted. "That's a flash-freeze tank! Even though it's for preserving organs, we can't worry about that now!"

Chen Mo dragged his numb right leg, moving forward step by step.

With every step, he left a charred footprint on the floor.

The sound of teeth chattering came from a corner.

Russell was huddled in the corner, head in his hands, his pants having dried and then soaked again.

He watched with wide eyes as the monster who had turned the 'Owner' into a specimen walked toward him.

"Don't... don't kill me..."

Russell buried his head in his knees. "I didn't see anything... I don't know anything..."

Chen Mo ignored him.

He walked straight to the row of flash-freeze tanks.

They were metal tanks that looked like coffins, emitting a chilling frost.

Chen Mo grabbed one of the tank lids and yanked it open.

Crack.

The metal cover was violently torn off.

The interior was filled with white liquid nitrogen mist.

Without any hesitation, Chen Mo rolled directly inside.

Sizzle—!!!

It was like a red-hot iron plate being thrown into ice water.

The violent temperature reaction instantly filled the entire basement with thick white mist.

Chen Mo curled up in the cryogenic tank, every muscle in his body spasming.

The blood vessels on his skin's surface ruptured from the sudden contraction, and the blood froze into red ice shards as soon as it flowed out.

"Aaaagh!!!"

He finally couldn't help but roar out loud.

That kind of pain was ten times more intense than being cut by a laser.

It felt as if ten thousand steel needles were stabbing into his bone marrow simultaneously, pulling out every nerve and crushing them on a grindstone.

The red light at his heart began to flash with extreme frequency, then slowly leveled off, its color shifting from a piercing scarlet to a dull deep red.

"Forced cooling in progress... Core temperature dropping to 150 degrees... 120 degrees..."

green text's voice sounded like it was sighing in relief. "That was close, you were almost cooked. But your exoskeleton drive units are completely trashed; now you're just a cripple who can only move one hand."

Chen Mo lay in the cold mist, gasping for breath.

A layer of white frost had formed on his eyelashes.

He looked at the pale white ceiling above, his hand still death-gripping that data disk.

This was the price.

But he was still alive.

As long as he was alive, there was a chance.

Ten minutes later.

A hand covered in thin ice grabbed the edge of the tank.

Chen Mo crawled out.

He was soaked through, his clothes frozen stiff, emitting a crisp cracking sound with the slightest movement.

He walked up to Russell.

Russell was already paralyzed with fear, like a pile of limp mud.

Chen Mo crouched down and, with that bone-chillingly cold hand, patted Russell's fatty cheek.

"Car."

Chen Mo spat out a single word.

Russell jolted, his eyes unfocused and wandering. "Wh... what?"

"A car to leave this place."

Chen Mo pointed upward. "How did he get here?"

Russell pointed tremblingly toward another elevator door. "Ex... exclusive passage... straight to the helipad... but the helicopter is destroyed... there's only... only the backup armored vehicle..."

"key."

"It's... it's biometric... only the Owner can..."

Before Russell could finish, he saw Chen Mo stand up and turn toward the glass tank that had just been sealed.

"No... no need!"

Russell shrieked, realizing what this madman intended to do. "I have authorization! I'm a Councilman! I have Level 2 authorization! I can drive it!"

He was truly terrified.

He was afraid Chen Mo would chop off the old man's hand to use as a key.

Chen Mo stopped and looked back at him.

Those eyes had no pupils, only two rotating mechanical apertures, as indifferent as two scalpels.

"Lead the way."

Russell scrambled to his feet, his legs as soft as noodles, stumbling toward the elevator while leaning against the wall.

Ding.

The elevator doors opened.

It was a large freight elevator, spacious enough to hold all this damn sin and terror.

The elevator ascended.

The numbers ticked up.

Chen Mo leaned against the elevator wall, eyes closed.

He was listening.

Listening to the heartbeat of this building.

It was gone.

The once omnipresent low-frequency hum had vanished.

With the old man's "burial," the energy core of the entire Eden seemed to have entered dormancy.

"Something's not right."

green text suddenly said, "It's too quiet."

"What do you mean?"

"Above." green text pulled up the few remaining external sensor feeds. "When you blew up the helicopter earlier, it made a lot of noise. By all logic, the surrounding defense systems should be fully activated, or reinforcements should be arriving. But now... it's as quiet as a graveyard outside."

Chen Mo opened his eyes.

The elevator stopped.

The doors slid open slowly.

It wasn't the shattered garden from before.

It was a hidden garage.

A black heavy armored off-road vehicle sat in the center, a red skull emblem printed on the side of the chassis.

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