Chapter 90: Chapter 90: Jackal

Basement Level 1.

Mu Qing found herself in a room full of exposed pipes and discovered a ventilation duct sealed by a rusty iron grille.

“This must be the way out, but it can only be opened from the inside. Someone must be stationed here to open the door.”

Mu Qing noticed a chair placed beside the vent and was about to try and open it when she heard noise coming from within the duct.

“Clang clang~”

Someone was coming.

There were quite a few people.

At least more than ten.

“Have the survivors returned?”

Mu Qing was startled, and immediately turned to leave the room, planning to find a place to hide upstairs, as the confined space of the basement made it easy to be caught.

Just as she reached the staircase, she heard footsteps coming from above.

Survivors were coming down from above!

Suddenly, she was trapped with no escape.

She tightened her grip on the razor in her hand, her heart heavy, memories of these past hellish days vivid in her mind.

“I might end up letting a lot of people down.”

She had already resolved to commit suicide.

At the same time, she heard a huge crashing noise from behind, as if a beast was ramming against the ventilation duct.

“Bang~”

The iron grille was smashed open.

What immense power!

“Kill!”

“Kill!!”

A roar echoed through the corridor.

This didn’t feel right.

Mu Qing was taken aback, sensing that this wasn’t the survivors returning but rather intruders breaking in.

She smiled slightly and quickly ran downstairs, thinking that if these people were intruders, they probably wouldn’t bother exploring downwards.

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A man wearing leather armor, his arm muscles exaggerated, with long hair tied back, let out a roar and charged at the iron grille.

“Bang~”

With a massive crash, he burst out of the ventilation duct wielding a weapon, warily scanning his surroundings but seeing no one.

One by one, people dressed in leather armor crawled out of the duct.

There were over ten of them.

Each of them carried a heavy aura of bloodlust.

“No one?”

The situation was completely different from what they had anticipated; they thought they would face a bloody battle to determine if they could proceed.

It was strange but did not affect their resolve.

The man with long hair raised his weapon and shouted, “Kill!”

The others echoed, “Kill!!”

More than ten people charged outwards in a grand manner.

“What’s that sound?”

“It’s those Jackals, run! They’ve come again.”

Several survivors descending from above realized something was wrong, turned to flee, shouting, “Jackals, those Jackals are here.”

But they were already too slow.

The long-haired man leapt like a cheetah to their rear and hewed down with an axe.

One of the survivors turned to resist with a knife.

A crisp sound echoed as the long knife snapped in two, the axe continuing into the skull, spraying blood.

The other Jackals caught up and cut down the remaining survivors in a frenzy.

More than ten Jackals raced up the stairs; they had already learned the general layout of Shield Company and knew the core lab was on the fifth floor.

Today, with the Lady of the House absent, was their chance; such an opportunity might not come again.

A group of survivors on the fifth floor hadn’t yet reacted when over ten strangers burst out from the stairway.

The bald man’s pupils shrank as he shouted, “It’s the Jackals, retreat!”

They were also more than ten, but certainly no match for these Jackals.

The Jackals were famous for their combat prowess, with only the hunting party able to contend with them.

With equal numbers, they were definitely not opponents.

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The handwriting on the note was neat, likely a woman’s, very orderly, revealing a careful disposition.

Su Changxing looked up again at the woman by the wall; although checking the record board, he was always observing her, constantly reminding himself never to turn his back.

People often make subconscious movements, unthinking sways, small gestures, even turning around.

“It’s not like a human or a Zombie, more like a phenomenon, a natural occurrence with rules, like high temperatures causing fire, low temperatures freezing things.”

Su Changxing settled his mind and concluded.

As time passed, he had calmed completely.

Terror often stems from the unknown; as one gradually uncovers the truth, fear gradually dissipates.

“So what if we corner her against the wall?”

Su Changxing had a bizarre thought, coming naturally to the idea that if there were rules, there must be loopholes.

He began to approach the woman by the wall step by step.

The woman retreated step by step, leaving faint footprints, gradually pressing against the wall and quickly merging with it, as though stuck within.

“Ghost? Ghost Soul?”

Su Changxing felt his sanity plummet; this existence was beyond his imagination, not bound by physical laws, yet seemingly possessing a form.

After a moment of silence, Su Changxing headed toward the staircase in the hall, remembering that the boy was injected with the drug upstairs.

This seemed to be a completely enclosed space, with the stairs the only path upwards.

Su Changxing faced the stairs directly, the woman gradually disappearing into the stairs as he moved, but turning the corner on the stairs, an issue arose.

He was fully turned away from the direction he needed to move.

This was dangerous; he lacked rear visibility and would struggle to notice an attack promptly.

Su Changxing pondered briefly, retraced his steps back to the outer hall, and the woman vanished once more.

He wanted to test a theory: if entering the hall faced differently, would the woman’s position change?

This time, Su Changxing sidled inwards, and upon nearing the dissection table, the woman reappeared before the wall, in a different spot from last time.

The woman’s position aligned with the direction he faced upon entry.

“So if I want the direction to be correct after going upstairs, I just need to go backward through the passage.”

Su Changxing concluded and returned once more to the outer hall, preparing to backtrack into the passage in a reversed stance; this way, he would face the right direction when going upstairs.

But then, Su Changxing heard sounds of battle outside.

Someone was fighting outside.

“They’re fighting; there are quite a few people. Who are they?”

Su Changxing was puzzled; apart from these survivors, who else could be here?

Had they turned on each other?

No, that couldn’t be it; even if they did, it wouldn’t be now, so someone else must’ve snuck in like him.

Jackals?

For Su Changxing, this wasn’t good news, as he knew nothing about these people called Jackals.

And their goals might be the same.

Su Changxing turned to face the passage, retreating backward while sensing the outside commotion; the battle cries drew closer, approaching his location.

He considered a scenario: if he entered the inner hall backward and those people came in afterward, what would happen?

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