The Last Werewolf in History

Chapter 24

The rusted iron ladder dug into his spine. The air shaft reeked of rotting seaweed and industrial effluent.

Qin Lie leaned against the curved metal wall; the burns on his left arm had scabbed over in black, and every breath sent a jolt of pain through his fractured ribs. He propped his tactical tablet on his knees, the screen's blue glow illuminating the bloodstains on his fingertips.

His fingers danced across the virtual keyboard.

The decryption progress bar crawled forward sluggishly. Eighty percent. Ninety percent.

On the ground beside him lay the rune-etched short sword, silent and still. The red markings on its hilt pulsed once every few minutes, like a heartbeat. Qin Lie cast a glance at it, then fished a sheet of lead foil from his pocket and began wrapping the blade layer upon layer. The edge of the foil tore beneath his fingernails, revealing the glint of dark-gold metal beneath.

Old K used to say that the Silver Cross Society's trackers responded to both bloodlines and runes. Unless this thing was shielded, he'd be a walking target wherever he went.

The progress bar hit one hundred percent. The encrypted logs unfolded.

Lines of code scrolled past, finally freezing on a structural diagram. The building's outline felt both familiar and alien—it was a cross-section of the underground levels of St. Maria Hospital in the city center. The area highlighted in red text was not within the patient wards, but deep within the shielded zone beneath the morgue.

Project Name: Chimera Project—Phase II.

Codename: The Crucible of Will.

Qin Lie's pupils constricted. The experimental records displayed on the screen revealed that the Ark Laboratory had merely been a smokescreen; the core transfer was already complete. Over the past seventy-two hours, a total of twelve cryogenic transport units had entered the hospital's underground tunnels. The remarks column read: "Special Biological Samples."

The tablet vibrated once.

An encrypted channel connected. There was no avatar—only a pulsating spectral waveform.

"The temperature in the morgue's cold storage is anomalous. It has held steady at minus thirty degrees for three days, yet energy consumption has tripled." Su Hongxiu's voice, distorted by a scrambler, crackled with static. "Security protocols have been elevated to Red Alert. Two hours ago, the Archbishop's private vehicle entered through the hospital's rear gate."

Qin Lie's fingers hovered above the screen. "The archive on the second basement level is the entrance. It's disguised as an old electrical maintenance tunnel. You have forty-five minutes."

The spectral image vanished.

Qin Lie stowed his tablet, snatched up his wrapped short sword, and tucked it back into his waistband. The lead foil rustled against his skin, emitting a faint, dry whisper. He pushed aside the grate covering the ventilation shaft and slid his body down into the dark pipe below.

Filthy water rose above his ankles—bitterly, bone-chillingly cold.

The city's underground network was like the vasculature of a labyrinth. Qin Lie knew its currents well. Ten years ago, before his Awakening, he had hidden down here to evade city inspectors and drunken brawlers. Now, the stench of the sewers served to mask the scent of blood clinging to him.

The rushing water drowned out the sound of his footsteps.

Twenty minutes later, a vertical ladder appeared ahead. Above it sat a heavy manhole cover, stamped with the municipal seal. Qin Lie gripped the rim with both hands; with a surge of his werewolf strength—muscles straining taut—he forced the cast-iron lid open just enough to create a narrow gap.

Through the slit, he looked out into a corner of the hospital's underground parking garage. The lens of a nearby security camera had been smeared over with chewing gum.

Qin Lie slipped out and pressed himself against the wall, melting into the shadows at its base.

The scent of disinfectant in the air was thick enough to sting the nostrils, yet beneath it lay a faint, almost imperceptible trace of rust. It was the smell of blood—and it was not fresh.

At the far end of the corridor stood two patrol guards. Silver crucifix badges were pinned to their chests, and each held a stun baton in his hand. They were conversing in hushed tones.

"...I heard the screaming started up again over there."

"Screaming won't do any good. Once the Will-Stripping begins, not even the gods themselves can save you."

"The Archbishop is overseeing it personally; he says he expects results tonight."

Qin Lie held his breath. The moment the two guards turned their backs to him, he blurred into motion, gliding across the floor like a wraith. There was no rush of wind, no sound of footsteps.

The iron door to the archive stood slightly ajar. The access control panel glowed green—a clear sign that someone had just passed through from the inside.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The temperature plummeted instantly.

A wispy white mist snaked in through his collar and beneath his clothes. This place felt less like an archive and more like a meat locker. Metal crates—each bearing an official seal—were stacked high on all sides, yet every single one of them was empty. The true entrance lay hidden behind a bookshelf at the very back of the room. Hidden behind the bookshelf was a biometric lock. Qin Lie made no attempt to bypass it; instead, he simply placed his hand directly against the panel. The temperature in his palm surged; the active radiation of his werewolf bloodline instantly fried the circuitry.

*Beep.* The door slid open.

The deep-level laboratory lay revealed before him.

It was a vast, circular chamber featuring a sunken control console at its center. Surrounding it were twelve cylindrical life-support pods. Suspended within each pod was a human-like body.

Qin Lie clung to a structural beam positioned above the observation window, hanging upside down as his gaze swept downward.

The humanoid figures inside the pods were stark n***d, their skin crisscrossed with sutures. Thick neural interfaces were embedded into their spinal columns, through which an eerie, phosphorescent green fluid was being pumped directly into their spinal canals. On the adjacent monitoring screens, their brainwave patterns fluctuated violently—only to be forcibly flattened into a straight line moments later.

Those were werewolf brainwaves. Qin Lie could sense that familiar frequency—though now, it was chaotic and shattered.

Beneath the control console, two researchers clad in white lab coats were busy recording data.

"Subject 3's volitional resistance is weakening."

"Increase the dosage. The 'Will Forge' requires *complete* fragments—we cannot accept defective products."

"But if we extract the lupine will and implant it into a human death-row inmate, what do we do about tissue rejection?"

"The Archbishop has given his orders: if rejection occurs, simply replace the host. We are forging weapons of absolute loyalty—not preserving human lives."

Qin Lie's fingers dug deep into the concrete beam.

Fine dust and grit rained down from between his fingers.

He connected his tablet to a data port embedded in the beam. The screen displayed a status update: *Accessing Core Server.* The data transfer progress bar began to advance.

Ten percent. Thirty percent.

Below, the researchers continued their conversation.

"Subject Alpha's condition remains the most stable. The purity of his volitional fragments is exceptional; he is the ideal candidate to serve as our first host."

"You mean that security guard?"

"Precisely. The one who slipped through our grasp in the industrial district last time. His genetic sequence is the key."

The hand hanging at Qin Lie's side tightened its grip on his short sword. The lead foil wrapped around the hilt crumpled under the pressure, emitting a sharp, brittle c***k.

Seventy percent.

The lights in the laboratory flickered once.

Qin Lie looked up. The airflow within the ventilation shaft had abruptly shifted direction. The airflow, originally venting outward, suddenly reversed, rushing inward.

Ninety percent.

A red warning box popped up on the tablet screen. It wasn't a download failure; it was an external network intrusion.

The encrypted channel forced its way through once again. Su Hongxiu's voice was urgent, devoid of her earlier composure.

"Get out of there. Now."

"The Archbishop has entered the elevator. He's descending straight to Sub-level 3. The security system is rebooting."

"All exits are locked down."

Qin Lie yanked out the data cable. The data had already been saved to local storage.

The researchers below heard the commotion. One of them looked up, his gaze sweeping across the overhead beams.

"Someone's up there!"

An alarm tore through the air. It was no longer a simple buzzing, but a high-frequency sonic oscillation. Qin Lie felt a sharp pain in his eardrums, and his sense of balance instantly went haywire.

The werewolf inside the life-support pod seemed agitated by the alarm; its previously still body began to convulse. The green fluid within boiled, churning with rising bubbles.