[Explorer Assessment: Abandoned Factory Basement]

“Come! This way!”

The little girl tugged at Chen Kong’s sleeve, her steps light as she quickly slipped into a hidden entrance behind the factory.

The entrance was tightly wrapped by dense vines. Black oil stains clung to the vine leaves, and several broken bricks were piled around, making it impossible to spot the hidden passage to the basement without a careful look.

Clearly, this was a ‘secret base’ the children had hidden for a long time.

Chen Kong followed the little girl down. The steps were covered in thick dust, and every step kicked up tiny particles.

The murky air was permeated with the unique dampness of a coastal city, along with the acidic smell of some expired canned food, making Chen Kong frown involuntarily.

The further they descended, the darker the passage became, until the little girl pulled out a small flashlight from her pocket, its casing already battered and dented.

Using the dim, yellow light of the flashlight, the group finally reached the iron door of the basement.

“We’re here!”

The little girl stopped and laboriously pushed open the creaking iron door in front of her.

Chen Kong stepped inside and realized it was an abandoned cannery storage room.

Several rows of iron racks stood around, piled with empty cans.

Some of the can lids were rusted and warped, and some were stained with dried brown residue, clearly having been opened and eaten.

In addition, a few worn-out newspapers, with edges yellowed and curled, were scattered on the ground.

The date on them was blurred, only vaguely suggesting they were old news from about half a year ago.

“Um… How long have you all been hiding here?”

Chen Kong squatted down and picked up an empty can.

Hearing the question, the little girl looked up.

Her eyes had no pupils, only a murky, milky white, yet she accurately looked in Chen Kong’s direction.

“I don’t know. We only know we were playing hopscotch in the open space behind the factory that day, and then suddenly heard a loud ‘boom,’ and after that, there were screams and explosions everywhere, and very fierce ‘ooh-woo’ sounds.”

Her voice paused, her small hand involuntarily clenching her sleeve, her tone carrying a lingering fear.

“Mom told us to run fast, said ‘those things’ were coming, so we ran here.”

“Xiao Hao and I always hide here when we play hide-and-seek. No one has ever found us.”

Those things…

Chen Kong’s heart sank. He knew without asking that she was describing the scene when the Star Beasts broke through the city.

The reason these children were still alive was either because their hiding place was very good, or because their own life fluctuations were very weak, preventing them from being discovered by the first wave of the beast tide.

The reason he understood so clearly was that when he and Chen Xing were young, they also survived after the Star Beasts broke through the city by hiding in their room, sustained by the biscuits and water their mother left behind.

Just as Chen Kong was lost in a brief memory due to the little girl’s words.

The camera operator suddenly spoke up.

“Ms. An, are you alright?”

The cameraman stood by the door, looking at An Qin, whose expression seemed off, and asked curiously.

Earlier, when deciding whether to bring the children, An Qin had frowned, saying, ‘Bringing them will slow us down.’

But when Chen Kong and he insisted on protecting the children, she eventually followed along silently.

However, ever since entering the passage, she had been walking at the very end, head bowed, the hood of her hoodie pulled low, as if deliberately avoiding something.

An Qin’s body visibly stiffened when asked, then she slowly raised her head, her voice slightly hoarse as she replied: “I’m fine. I’m just… worried that it’s not safe here.”

As she spoke, her gaze swept over the empty cans on the shelves, then quickly moved away.

“You know our situation. We don’t have much time to waste here. We need to make plans soon.”

The cameraman nodded, his lens turning toward the depths of the warehouse.

“You’re right. Although my detector shows no Star Beast signals here for now, the pursuers could show up at any moment. We have at most one minute to settle these children.”

Despite his words, the cameraman’s lens, focused on An Qin, was filled with contemplation.

An Qin’s abnormality wasn’t just ‘worrying about safety.’ Her shoulders had been tightly tensed since she saw the children, and her breathing was more hurried than usual.

Did she know these children, or did… this place remind her of something?

For a moment, the entire basement fell into an eerie silence, which hadn’t occurred in the previous two assessments.

It was as if, for some reason, the Raccoon Administrator had temporarily lost their location, granting them a rare moment of peace.

Seeing the cameraman choose not to speak again, An Qin also refrained from saying more, silently walking into the depths of the warehouse, wanting to check for any other exits.

But just as she turned around, the hood of her hoodie was caught by a protruding iron hook on a shelf.

Whoosh!

The hoodie slipped down, revealing An Qin’s fair neck.

On the left side of her right neck, there was clearly a faint scar. The shape of the scar was very peculiar, looking like it had been scraped by something sharp, leaving three thin, parallel marks.

The episode’s camera suddenly gave a close-up of An Qin’s scar at this moment.

Immediately after, the lens quickly cut to the little girl nearby.

There, on the right side of the little girl’s neck, was a virtually identical scar.

However, the little girl’s scar was darker, looking like a fresh wound that hadn’t fully healed, while An Qin’s scar was very light, clearly an old injury from a long time ago.

However, the dimensional viewers on Site 13 were not the only ones to notice this detail.

The cameraman, with his ‘360-degree’ omnidirectional vision, also noticed it.

In an instant, he seemed to understand something and made a decision.

But just as he was about to follow up and ask for an explanation, a sudden ‘boom’ sounded from above, shaking the warehouse’s iron racks and causing dust to flutter down.

Hearing the alien beast’s roar overhead, the cameraman immediately spoke: “Be careful! I sense a large number of Star Beasts approaching here! And they seem to have discovered this place.”

Hearing the cameraman’s words, Chen Kong instantly tensed up. He reached out to shield the two children behind him, the Void Mark quietly activating.

Pale blue Star Energy enveloped his whole body, ready to deal with the Star Beasts that might rush in at any moment.

But just then, An Qin suddenly turned around, speaking with an unusually calm tone: “I’ll hold them off. You take the children and leave through the back exit.”

“I saw a ventilation duct at the very back of the warehouse earlier. It leads to the woods outside the factory.”

“No! It’s too dangerous for you alone!”

Chen Kong immediately objected. Even as a temporary teammate, he couldn’t watch An Qin face the Star Beasts by herself.

“We can go together…”

“No time…”

An Qin interrupted him, reaching out to push open a hidden door at the very back of the warehouse. Behind the door was indeed a half-meter-wide ventilation duct, large enough for children and adults to crawl through.

Saying this, without waiting for Chen Kong to persuade her further, she turned and walked out of the basement.

The moment she pulled the door open, the roar of the Shadow Wolf overhead clearly echoed in. Black mist surged in through the door gap, swirling around her ankles.

An Qin didn’t look back, she just raised her hand to pull her hood back on, her voice carrying through the gap in the door.

“Don’t worry, I’m a little… more formidable than you think.”

Looking at An Qin’s retreating figure, Chen Kong ultimately chose not to waste time and followed her suggestion.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep