Chapter 94-I Clean Up Garbage in a Wasteland World
Chapter 94 Surveillance
A certain experimental base.
The researchers were a bit baffled—ever since that day, Chu Qing had been acting strange.
Professor Chu had never been quite normal, but now he was even more neurotic than before.
He often stayed with the Contaminant for hours on end.
Chu Qing stood by the window. Below him was his test subject—the cold metal door had been pushed open a crack, and the viscous red Contaminant was breathing.
Just being near the thing made one instinctively uncomfortable. Even a layer of glass could barely block the sensation.
Most researchers only went in to collect data when necessary, and once the data collection was done, they wouldn't linger. After all, nobody wanted to become food for a Contaminant.
Yet Chu Qing was actively approaching the Contaminant, pushing himself to the absolute limit. A glass wall stood between them.
He could feel the bone-piercing cold and hear the Contaminant's heartbeat.
Chu Qing observed it, recorded it. Most researchers treated this as just a job, but for Chu Qing, he was obsessed with his test subject.
"Like" wasn't quite the right word. He was obsessed.
Hiss—
Chu Qing sucked in a sharp breath. His teeth chattered, and the fear of the Contaminant surged within him. His sanity could no longer support him going any further.
This was the maximum distance he could approach the Contaminant—the limit for any ordinary person. If he took one more step, the alarms here would go off like crazy.
Chu Qing stopped. Fear crawled over him like living insects, dense and prickling, like needles stabbing into his back.
The corridor was freezing. To reduce the Contaminant's activity, they had applied cryogenic treatment.
Chu Qing's glasses were fogged with white mist, his vision a blur. This was his weakness—he refused to accept any degree of modification, wouldn't even undergo the already very mature myopia surgery. Without his glasses, he couldn't see the world clearly.
What exactly was the future of humanity?
In the past, Chu Qing believed only First-Class Citizens could truly be called human. Everything else was artificially manufactured—why should those things count as people?
But if Zhu Ning was a successful Alpha Series Experiment product, then what was she?
If First-Class Citizens were pure-blooded humans in Chu Qing's eyes, then what was someone like Zhu Ning, who had evolved to the very pinnacle of the pyramid?
A god?
Chu Qing carefully savored his own fear, then took off his glasses.
...
The Ant Nest.
This situation was far more troublesome than the Abnormal Incident Investigation Team had anticipated. A Xenomorph had appeared inside the walls. They had requested backup twice and spent three days before fully handling the matter.
Even then, they weren't sure if it could truly be considered resolved.
The internal structure of the Ant Nest was extremely bizarre. Xenomorphs hid within the chessboard-like tunnels, launching random attacks on their personnel.
Three Demon Hunters and four Cleaners died in this incident. Fifteen were seriously injured, and thirty sustained minor injuries.
And after all that sacrifice, they still hadn't achieved a complete purification. The land had been contaminated, and they couldn't eliminate all the Xenomorphs.
In the end, the protective barrier descended, and evacuation notices were issued to surrounding residents.
Huo Wenxi had no choice but to declare the Ant Nest position lost.
Most people had already evacuated from the Ant Nest, but as a precaution, the Abnormal Incident Investigation Team remained nearby. They were stationed here, compiling the final investigation report.
Most of the time, the Abnormal Incident Investigation Team didn't exist to solve problems—their department's primary responsibility was to investigate the truth.
They had a hovering vehicle near the Ant Nest. Inside the vehicle, Huo Wenxi removed her protective helmet. Her hair was long, braided into a single plait coiled at the back of her head. Once the helmet came off, the long braid fell naturally.
Huo Wenxi's pure white protective suit was covered in bloodstains and grime, but she didn't bother with it. She lit a cigarette and reviewed her subordinates' investigation reports.
"Team leader, you still haven't given up?" Her partner was named Zhuang Lin.
Huo Wenxi: "The anomaly is too obvious."
Huo Wenxi pulled out a document. "Before we entered, someone had already been inside and left traces. Three buildings near Building 35—Buildings 34, 36, and 37—all showed signs of structural distortion, along with burn marks."
Huo Wenxi pulled out a photograph, a screenshot captured from the frontline Demon Hunters' video footage.
The Ant Nest's aerial corridor had been severed at both ends, with fire set inside, forming a flame cage. There were even Xenomorph corpses within.
Zhuang Lin reminded her: "You haven't slept in three days."
Compared to the truth, he was more concerned about getting Huo Wenxi some rest. If their team leader kept up this workaholic pace, they'd lose an elite member.
Huo Wenxi raised the hand holding her cigarette, signaling him to shut up, and continued her train of thought: "There were at least two Ability Users, and they killed a Source of Contamination but didn't have time to collect the Contamination Spores."
The Contamination Spores hadn't been collected—when they entered, the spores were drifting everywhere.
There were Contaminants here. On the surface, it was possible that freelance Demon Hunters had been lured in by a dead post, discovered the situation was beyond their ability to handle, panicked and fled, and then Prometheus stepped in for emergency containment.
Zhuang Lin glanced out the window. The Ant Nest exterior was already shrouded in a protective barrier, though whether this A-Level barrier could actually hold was debatable.
The Ant Nest had always been in a queue, never given much attention. This time, the moment a problem appeared, it became extremely high-profile.
Fortunately it was discovered in time. If the contamination range had expanded, it would have been extremely, extremely troublesome.
Their losses this time were already considered low.
Zhuang Lin also found this whole affair particularly bizarre. "We didn't capture anything on camera."
The Ant Nest was in disrepair with no surveillance cameras inside, but there were cameras along the route into the Ant Nest and a few more in the surrounding area that could be used.
But there was nothing—no footage at all. They seemed to have appeared out of thin air, then vanished just as suddenly.
Someone had erased all traces of them, which brought Prometheus to mind.
Though a hacker could accomplish the same thing. Whoever went in, they had at least an organization behind them.
Huo Wenxi and Zhuang Lin exchanged a glance: "And it happens to be a metal-type ability. It's probably the same person Xuan Qing and that group were looking for a while back."
That matter had actually been first discovered by the Abnormal Incident Investigation Team. Someone was searching for metal-type Ability Users. When this first surfaced, nobody paid attention, but after the Investigation Team reported it, Xuan Qing began looking into it.
She tried to find traces within the Sanitation Center and identified a prime suspect, but couldn't confirm it.
Apparently, they let the person go.
Huo Wenxi pulled up the file for Clean Squad A70265—three members: Xu Meng, Li Nianchuan, and Zhu Ning.
This squad had been formed for less than a month and had already completed a B-Level Oceanarium mission. The most prominent figure from that incident was Zhu Ning.
Zhuang Lin was already following this lead. He'd even obtained the video of Zhu Ning's interrogation, wanting to see if she had any slip-ups.
He had to admit—either Zhu Ning really was just a somewhat high-profile but "perfectly ordinary" Cleaner with absolutely no connection to any conspiracy.
Or, if Zhu Ning really was that person, then her psychological fortitude was absolutely top-tier. The kind of person Zhuang Lin dreaded encountering the most.
What a pain.
Zhuang Lin assumed Huo Wenxi would definitely keep a close eye on Zhu Ning this time. To his surprise, the file she pulled out was someone else's.
Xu Meng.
Huo Wenxi's finger tapped on it. "Know her?"
Zhuang Lin had never even noticed this person. Among the three, the least conspicuous was Xu Meng. Li Nianchuan left quite an impression—his video of wanting to be "big sis's puppy" had been uploaded to the forums, and Zhuang Lin had even watched it.
But Xu Meng?
Zhuang Lin had absolutely no impression of her. Xu Meng's performance in the Oceanarium hadn't been remarkable either.
The skill level she'd displayed was just slightly above average—a bit better than Li Nianchuan, but probably far behind Zhu Ning.
And why was Huo Wenxi paying attention to her? Was she connected to this Ant Nest incident?
Zhuang Lin: "She has a problem?"
Huo Wenxi: "Definitely has a problem."
Zhuang Lin couldn't follow Huo Wenxi's reasoning at all. "Why?"
Huo Wenxi: "Look into her."
Zhuang Lin immediately opened the internal network and started doing his homework. Their department had access to more information. His movements paused—there was a personnel change entry in Xu Meng's personal file.
Xu Meng had previously been a Demon Hunter. The file didn't show which squad she'd been on. After retiring, she'd entered the Cleaner department.
But this wasn't particularly unusual. Many Demon Hunters chose to return to work after retiring. For injured Demon Hunters, being a Cleaner was a good position.
Their center was also happy to see this kind of thing—direct reuse of talent.
Zhuang Lin frowned. "You don't think she's the one who went into the Ant Nest, do you?"
That was way too far-fetched. There was absolutely no logical thread.
But Huo Wenxi's intuition was usually spot-on—more accurate than fortune-telling. In Zhuang Lin's eyes, she was basically a shaman.
Everyone in their department knew: don't get locked onto by the little shaman, or you'd be skinned alive.
Zhuang Lin went to check Xu Meng's whereabouts on the day of the incident. It was actually quite easy to look up—according to the data, Xu Meng had no assignments that day and should have been resting.
They could request an order to review the surveillance footage around Xu Meng, but for now, Zhuang Lin didn't think it was necessary.
Huo Wenxi shook her head. "She's not the one who went in."
Xu Meng's personality wouldn't lead her to do something that dangerous.
After saying this, Huo Wenxi paused. It was hard to describe this feeling—Xu Meng had a problem, and of course Zhu Ning had a problem too. They weren't necessarily both connected to the Ant Nest.
Zhu Ning. Xu Meng.
The two were related. They had once intersected at some point.
If one followed linear thinking, investigating the truth behind the Ant Nest shouldn't proceed this way. But Huo Wenxi felt they existed on the same network, shrouded by the same mystery.
Huo Wenxi had only found two points, and these two points appeared to have no strong connection. But once the link was established, she wouldn't just solve the Ant Nest case—she might uncover new anomalies.
She would instantly understand the entire picture.
Zhuang Lin was still waiting for her to explain why she thought Xu Meng had a problem.
Huo Wenxi stubbed out her cigarette. Facing Zhuang Lin's questioning gaze, she chose to remain silent.
...
Zhu Ning had recently been playing the role of cheese—in other words, she'd been resting.
After that day, Lin Xiaofeng had become particularly clingy. Though her way of being clingy was a bit unusual—she didn't speak, was very quiet, just a red hat floating beside her.
Zhu Ning guessed she might have scared the girl, so she hadn't gone out recently either, just staying home to keep Lin Xiaofeng company.
A ten-year-old child needed companionship. She couldn't always leave it to Song Zhizhang.
The two of them were like shift workers—Song Zhizhang had been resting during the day lately.
Zhu Ning sat cross-legged on the sofa. A war movie was playing on the TV, and Lin Xiaofeng hugged her knees watching the film.
Zhu Ning watched half-heartedly, wanting to check on Garbo's progress.
After opening the chat window, she realized only a few days had actually passed. She'd urged Garbo before entering the Mechanical Oceanarium, and it had only been six days since then.
But she felt like several months had gone by. Song Zhizhang was right—frequently entering Contamination Zones made people gradually lose their sense of time.
You'd go insane.
Zhu Ning felt she really needed to rest for a longer period.
That was what Zhu Ning thought, but she didn't slow down her cracking of the whip over Garbo one bit. From Garbo's perspective, she was probably a terrible boss—not even a week had passed and here she was pressuring it again.
Zhu Ning sent over a smile emoji, intending to convey a buyer's death stare.
Garbo replied with an even bigger smile: [Ning-bao! Hi there!]
Zhu Ning: "..."
She figured this little robot probably lacked certain social EQ skills and completely couldn't read Zhu Ning's subtext.
Zhu Ning made herself more blunt: [Where. Are. My. Videos?]
Garbo: [I found them! Lots of them!]
Zhu Ning hadn't placed much hope on this to begin with. She absolutely didn't expect such sudden progress. Immediately after, Zhu Ning's Sub-Brain flashed—Garbo had sent her 2TB of video.
Zhu Ning stared blankly at this massive trove of footage. If it were before, just watching the videos might have taken her several days.
But now she possessed data-processing abilities. She closed her eyes, and the Sub-Brain instantly unfolded in her mind. She herself was like a data node, navigating through the Sub-Brain's network.
Zhu Ning quickly scanned through everything. It took roughly three minutes.
Three minutes later, Zhu Ning opened her eyes.
Most of the videos Garbo sent were useless. Some were meaningless empty shots—hours of footage containing nothing but an abandoned white plastic bag being blown by the wind, as if dancing in a corner.
A large number of videos had captured Garbo, since Garbo frequently picked up trash nearby. When it was alone, the word "Garbo" would display on its screen.
Garbo~ Garbo~
It wasn't connected to a voice system and couldn't speak, so it could only talk to itself using text. Sometimes a few emojis would appear on Garbo's screen.
Garbo's personal work style could be summed up as happiness above all else. It roamed happily through the garbage dump, its face always displaying cheerful expressions, and sometimes a few lines of song lyrics would scroll across its screen.
As if it were singing.
In the garbage dump that nobody cared about, Garbo worked alone, singing silently.
Watching the videos left Zhu Ning feeling a bit gloomy. Pieced together, these videos should be called "Garbo's Work Diary." She'd never been forced to watch a little robot dance from so many angles before.
Wait—Zhu Ning suddenly opened her eyes, data surging in her pupils.
Among all that footage, she found only one useful video, and it was very short—extremely easy to miss.
The video had actually captured Zhu Ning. It wasn't very high-definition—just a silhouette.
Zhu Ning paused the video and zoomed in on a blurry face.
The feeling was quite strange too—you were looking at yourself, but it didn't feel like looking at yourself. It felt like looking at another person.
And a dead version of yourself, at that. You were watching her... "pre-death" footage.
You knew nothing about this other self. She was too mysterious. To this day, Zhu Ning still hadn't found the original's motive.
Not yet certain whether this was truly the original, she tentatively referred to the woman in the video as "the original."
Judging by the angle, this shot was taken from the entrance of the garbage dump, which was how it caught her. But the camera was positioned very low, so the person in the frame was somewhat distorted, stretched tall.
Her build was identical to Zhu Ning's. She wore a black trench coat with the collar turned up, giving her an air of mystery.
The original had no wounds on her body at that time. She walked briskly, and after entering the garbage dump, suddenly glanced in this direction.
After that one glance, she continued walking. The entire moment lasted at most two seconds. In fact, she appeared within this camera's range for less than thirty seconds total.
The video was extremely blurry. No matter how much she zoomed in, she couldn't make out Zhu Ning's expression. But she could see the motion of turning back.
Why did she turn back?
Would a normal person turn around here? Her movement wasn't even the cautious surveying of one's surroundings—she looked directly this way.
Zhu Ning had the uncanny feeling that she was... making eye contact with the original.
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