Chapter 9
951 Words
Red light pierced through the cracks in the manhole cover.
It fell upon the back of Qin Lie's hand.
The veins beneath his skin bulged.
They writhed like crawling earthworms.
He halted his steps.
His breathing grew heavy.
Old K turned around, his flashlight beam wavering.
"Something's off."
"The scent has changed."
Qin Lie's nose twitched.
The smell of disinfectant.
Beneath it lay the stench of blood.
And something else—a primal b********y.
A familiar b********y.
At the end of the pipe ahead, an iron door stood ajar.
A rust-encrusted sign hung from the doorframe, half-choked by creeping vines.
*Annex Laboratory: Old Industrial Park.*
"A Silver Cross Society hideout?" Su Hongxiu asked in a hushed voice.
"It looks abandoned," Old K said, kicking aside some shards of broken glass at his feet. "But someone has been here recently."
Qin Lie said nothing.
He pushed the door open.
The hinges let out a piercing shriek.
In the darkness, a fluorescent tube flickered twice—then, against all odds, it lit up.
The voltage was unstable; the fixture buzzed and hummed.
The floor was clean.
Too clean.
There was no dust—only the wet streaks left behind by a mop.
Qin Lie took the lead.
The blood of the werewolf surged and pounded through his veins.
The light of the Blood Moon streamed through the high-set exhaust vents, spilling into the corridor.
Wherever the crimson light touched his skin, it burned with heat.
His fingernails elongated.
His fingertips grazed the wall, leaving five distinct white gouges in their wake.
"Don't go any deeper," Old K warned, grabbing his arm. "It could be a trap."
Qin Lie shook him off.
He did not break stride.
His sense of smell guided his path.
The core area lay on the second basement level.
The stairs led downward.
The air grew colder.
The low hum of a refrigeration unit's compressor echoed through the space.
Tick.
Tock.
It sounded like a countdown.
He pushed open the final fire door.
In the center of the room stood a laboratory bench.
Folders lay scattered across its surface.
Beside them sat several glass jars.
Inside the jars, tissue samples floated in fluid.
Some resembled wolf claws.
Others looked like human spines.
Spliced together.
Qin Lie picked up a folder.
The cover bore the emblem of the Silver Cross Society.
*Project: Canid Optimization — Phase III.*
He opened it. The photos slid out.
They were all pictures of children.
Their bodies were riddled with tubes.
Their skin was torn open, revealing the hair beneath.
The time of death was noted in the bottom right corner.
Most had died from organ rejection.
A few had died after spiraling out of control and being executed.
Tucked into the final page was a map.
Several red dots were marked on it.
One of them circled this very location.
Note: Former Site of the Sword-Forgers — Suspected Armory.
The paper crumpled into a ball in his hand.
A low growl rumbled in Qin Lie's throat.
It was not a human sound.
It was the sound of a wild beast whose tail had been stepped on.
The pounding of his blood grew deafening.
*Thump.*
*Thump.*
*Thump.*
His ears were filled with the rushing sound of his own blood.
A red mist began to creep in at the edges of his vision.
Fangs tore through his gums.
A sharp sting.
An exhilarating rush.
A murderous impulse surged to his head.
Old K took half a step back, his hand reaching for the holster at his waist.
"Qin Lie."
No response.
Qin Lie turned around.
His pupils narrowed into vertical slits.
He fixed his gaze on Old K's neck.
The pulse beating there...
It was tempting.
"He's about to blow!" Old K shouted. "Hongxiu!"
Su Hongxiu was already moving.
She flashed out from the shadows.
In her hand, she held a silver spray canister.
No wasted words.
She aimed it directly at Qin Lie's nose and mouth.
And pressed the nozzle.
A cloud of white mist erupted.
It carried the scent of mint and bitter almonds.
Qin Lie frowned.
He tried to dodge.
But his body was a beat too slow.
Su Hongxiu raised her other hand.
Three silver needles were held between her fingers.
*Thrust.*
Into his neck.
Into his wrist.
Into his chest.
Her movements were too fast to follow with the eye.
Qin Lie's entire body went rigid.
The low growl in his throat caught and died.
Su Hongxiu leaned close to his ear.
Her voice was soft, yet every word was crystal clear.
"Inhale."
"Follow my rhythm."
She began to hum a tune.
An ancient melody.
It didn't sound like a song.
It sounded like a spell.
The red glow in Qin Lie's eyes began to recede.
The vertical slits of his pupils slowly rounded out.
His fangs retracted. Sweat trickled down his forehead and into his eyes.
It stung.
He bent over, bracing his hands against his knees.
Gasping for air.
As if he had just finished running a marathon.
"What was that?" Qin Lie asked, his voice hoarse.
"A family heirloom," Su Hongxiu replied, withdrawing her silver needles and wiping them clean. "It can only suppress it for a while."
"You know how to cure it."
"I know a little," Su Hongxiu said, looking at him. "But not right now."
Old K leaned in and picked up the folder lying on the floor.
"Something's off about this place."
"The Swordsmith wouldn't leave his work out in the open like this."
"Unless he *wanted* us to see it."
Su Hongxiu glanced at the security camera in the corner.
The red light was blinking.
It had been on the whole time.
- Writer
