303: Chapter 303 Drifting in the Abyss

Chapter 303: Drifting in the Abyss Flames.

Not the kind of slowly blossoming fire you see in movies.

It was a shockwave.

A white, visible blast of air instantly swallowed everything.

The team leader didn't even have time to take evasive action before he was sent flying, crashing into the wall like a withered leaf.

And Chen Mo, who was closest to the explosion's epicenter.

In that instant, was slammed to the ground by the shockwave.

Immediately after.

The floor collapsed.

This building was a shoddy construction to begin with, relying entirely on those load-bearing pillars.

Now, with a sympathetic detonation in the core area, the fragile floor couldn't withstand the combined pressure of several tons of armored vehicle wreckage and the shockwave.

*Crack—Boom!*

The entire garage floor shattered like a biscuit.

Chen Mo felt himself falling.

Weightlessness.

His ears were filled with the screech of twisting steel and the thunderous roar of concrete breaking.

And the sound of water.

*Splash!*

The landscape water system above had indeed ruptured. A massive torrent of water poured down through the collapsed hole.

Like a waterfall, it carried rubble, mud, luxury car debris, and those Cleaners, all plummeting into the abyss.

*Thud!*

Chen Mo crashed heavily onto something.

Excruciating pain.

It felt like his spine was broken.

But he didn't stop; he was still rolling.

It was a slope.

Filled with a foul, greasy, dampness.

"Trash chute!" the green text said in a broken voice, "This is... the Lower City's... sewage outlet..."

Chen Mo couldn't hear it clearly.

He could only instinctively protect his head and curl into a ball.

His body kept colliding with the pipe walls.

Sheet metal, rust, unidentified slime.

He didn't know how long he rolled.

*Plop.*

Icy, bone-chilling water submerged him.

The sensation of suffocation hit instantly.

But this wasn't formaldehyde; it was real sewage.

Carrying the stench of rotting organic matter and the sour smell of industrial wastewater.

Chen Mo struggled in the water.

His right hand finally regained some sensation.

He paddled violently, breaking through the murky surface.

"Cough, cough, cough!"

He coughed violently, spitting out the filthy water.

It was dark all around.

Only a dim, flickering yellow light swayed in the mist in the distance.

This was an underground river.

Or rather, the main sewer line of the city.

"Alive?"

the green text tentatively asked, "If you're dead, I'll shut down to save power."

"Barely."

Chen Mo wiped the mud from his face.

He tried to move.

Every part of his body ached.

His left arm was dislocated, hanging limply from his shoulder.

The cooling vents on his chest were clogged with sludge.

His frostbitten right leg now had no feeling at all; he didn't know if it was broken or just numb.

But he was still clutching that thing.

The data drive.

Hard and unyielding, digging painfully into his palm.

"Location." Chen Mo gasped for breath, hauling himself onto a protruding concrete ledge.

"Positioning failed."

the green text pulled up a map covered in static, "The signal jamming here is too severe. But based on the water flow direction, we're drifting south. That's towards Scrap Iron City."

Scrap Iron City.

That was a true lawless land.

A place even the police of the Lower City District dared not go.

"The Cleaners?"

Chen Mo leaned against the damp wall, pressing his dislocated left arm against his knee.

"Probably scattered."

the green text scanned the surroundings, "That last hit was brutal; they're probably busy fishing out bodies. But don't celebrate too soon. The team leader's gear has a positioning beacon; they'll catch up soon."

"Hmm."

Chen Mo gritted his teeth and suddenly pushed down.

*Crack!*

The sound of the bone snapping back into place was especially sharp in the vast sewer.

He groaned, cold sweat instantly breaking out, mixing with the filth on his face and dripping down.

"Look at this."

Chen Mo raised the data drive in his hand.

It was a black metal plate with no visible interface, only a red fingerprint sensor area.

"Don't look!"

the green text suddenly shouted, "That's a biometric lock! If you press it now and verification fails, this thing might self-destruct or even inject you with a neurotoxin!"

Chen Mo's finger stopped in mid-air.

"That old bastard said this is the only sample data."

Chen Mo looked at the metal plate, "It contains my factory settings."

"Or your self-destruct code."

the green text said irritably, "Who knows what kind of surprise that perverted scientist hid inside. Find a professional decoder; don't gamble with your life."

Chen Mo was silent for a moment.

He stuffed the data drive into his tattered pocket.

"Go."

Leaning on the wall, he limped toward that dim yellow light.

"Where to?"

"Find a place that can fix me." Chen Mo looked down at his chest.

That mechanical heart was still beating.

But the sound had changed.

No longer the rhythmic pumping, but a dry, grating noise.

Like rusty gears grinding together.

"Your coolant has leaked out."

the green text reminded him, "The lubricant is almost gone. You're like a broken-down car trying to run on the highway without oil. Run another five kilometers, and your bearings will seize."

"Then I'll run four."

Chen Mo's face was expressionless.

The light ahead grew closer.

It wasn't a street lamp.

It was a bonfire.

On a dry, elevated platform in the sewer, several people wearing ragged raincoats were huddled around the fire for warmth.

A large iron pot was set over the flames, bubbling with steam, cooking something unknown.

Chen Mo stopped.

He observed from the shadows.

Those people all had weapons.

Rusted pipes, wooden clubs with kitchen knives tied to them, and what looked like a pistol modified from a nail gun.

Drifters.

Or Scavengers.

"Hey!"

One of them suddenly stood up, sniffing the air twice, "Smells like fresh meat."

All eyes instantly turned toward the darkness.

That look.

Not like looking at a person.

Like looking at food.

"Blood scent." Another person licked his lips, drawing a knife from his waist, "Fresh."

Chen Mo stepped out of the shadows.

Covered in wounds, he staggered as he walked, looking like a lamb ready for slaughter.

"I want to buy something."

Chen Mo leaned against the wall, his voice weak.

"Buy?"

The knife-wielding drifter laughed, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth, "You got money, little master? Looking at your skin and flesh, it's quite valuable though."

They slowly closed in.

Five of them.

Their eyes greedy and fierce.

In a place like the sewer, the law of the jungle is the only rule.

And right now, Chen Mo looked far too weak.

"I don't have money."

Chen Mo lowered his gaze, looking at their dirty boots.

"But I have this."

He extended his left hand.

Palm facing up.

His fingertips still bore the high-temperature burn marks from the armored vehicle explosion.

*Zzzzt.*

A small cluster of blue electric arcs danced at his fingertips.

Though faint, they were exceptionally glaring in the darkness.

That was the last bit of energy he had left.

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