"Tell me, if the Arsonist Mobile Task Force hadn't been dispatched to handle that emergency, do you think the fallout at Facility 031 would have been less severe?"
A member of Hippie Team Two navigated around the wreckage, clicking his tongue in dismay as he walked.
"Even if the Gardener Mobile Task Force is the leading expert on plant anomalies, the Arsonists were stationed much closer. They could have rushed over and suppressed CVA-A-1099 in a few quick moves before things escalated. They both use fire anyway, so what's the difference?"
"There is no point in all these 'ifs'. Were you planning on grabbing a flyswatter to help them go swatting mosquitoes? Their unit isn't dedicated to guarding facilities, so stop trying to stir up trouble for them," another team member replied.
"I am just venting. It is a shame I don't have the clearance to know more. I really want to see where the hell those things came from, flying around at the speed of a bullet train..."
Beside them, the Watchtower at the mountain's peak had completely collapsed.
The Watchtower was meant to be rebuilt every year after winter, so it was never designed to withstand a massive impact.
Now, the collapsed tower structure had smashed right into the brick house, snapping the roof beams in two, while the observation room from the top had rolled all the way down to the bottom of the hillside.
"By the way, are they still talking in that tent?"
"I figure it will be a while."
One of the team members glanced at the tent a short distance away. The light inside cast shifting, human silhouettes onto the canvas.
Judging by their frantic gestures, the people inside were highly agitated.
The Field Agents who rushed to the scene had found the two fire watchers in the forest at dawn.
No matter what they had witnessed last night, the thing had scared them out of their wits. They had not stopped babbling about a "monster." So far, the most useful clue extracted from them was that whatever burst out of the forest had stolen their car—a monster that knew how to drive.
"I thought people who lived in the mountains would have a bit more courage."
"They aren't like us, dealing with anomalies day in and day out."
The two weren't just idly chatting. They were responsible for guarding the ruins, while more of their teammates were scattered throughout the forest establishing a quarantine zone.
Detailed analysis and evidence collection would have to wait until the backup personnel arrived.
Mobile Task Forces weren't firefighters. Unless there were special circumstances, these elite units were rarely deployed. Cleaning up the aftermath wasn't their domain; right now, they had simply been ordered to stand guard temporarily. The Bureau was a massive, precise machine where each department had its own role. Field Agents and investigators would soon arrive to take over the scene, and even more personnel were being mobilized to conduct a search along the Border Line—in this specific environment, they could play a far greater role than a Mobile Task Force.
"Everything I am saying is the truth! What do you mean it's nonsense? We are the primary witnesses!"
A loud shout rang out from the tent.
They were arguing inside again.
Darkness and fear could indeed severely distort a person's judgment.
If one were to completely believe the fire watchers' Formal Testimony, last night "a monster as big as a mountain crushed the trees, charged up the hill, smashed their house to pieces, and swaggered off."
In reality, the tracks left in the forest weren't nearly that exaggerated.
Some trees had indeed been bent, but they were far from being completely flattened.
Furthermore, judging from the bent pillars of the tower, it was highly likely that the structure had been brought down by the missing car ramming into it at full speed—this Watchtower was never designed with the thought that it might one day be hit by a vehicle.
Moreover, the two fire watchers had fled before even seeing the intruder come up the mountain. They hadn't dared to look back the entire way down. Most of the clues they provided were likely "eyewitness" delusions fabricated by their own minds based on the sounds they heard.
The biggest breakthrough achieved over the past few hours was solving the mystery of the car.
The car keys had been dropped on the ground, the gas tank was full, and it was an automatic transmission. Anyone could have driven it away.
As for what exactly left those crushing tracks over the grass and bushes...
No metal scraps or biological traces were found at the scene. They would have to wait for the Researchers to arrive and unravel the mystery.
The sun had already risen to its zenith. Standing at the peak of Mount Igor, the two team members traced the drag marks with their eyes, following them from the forest, along the trail to the ruins, and finally turning toward the tire tracks leading down the road.
From this direction, they could vaguely make out the Shiny Golden mountain range that served as the border marker—
As long as one crossed over it, they would reach the Tenth District.
-----------------
Beep, beep, beep...
The alert sound startled Director Bjorn, causing him to jerk his head up.
He had actually fallen asleep leaning on the steering wheel.
After turning his head and frantically searching the car for a moment, he finally felt the source of the noise on his own body.
Panic-stricken, Bjorn tried to switch off the button-shaped Tracker, but found it useless.
The device kept blaring endlessly.
Across the street, a group of people on the sidewalk were drawn by the noise and began walking in his direction. They pointed at the vehicle from afar, discussing the massive dent in the hood and the shattered windshield.
Bjorn raised his hand high, ready to hurl the Tracker out the window.
In the split second before the button left his grasp, he remembered.
This was the Tracker.
He needed it to rendezvous with that group of people.
His relaxing grip clenched tightly once more. Seeing the group of meddlesome onlookers getting closer, Bjorn pocketed the shrill device and hastily started the engine.
The vehicle lurched out of the overgrown weeds, shuddering violently as it pulled onto the paved road.
The crowd even tried to rush forward and block the car as it passed, screaming and yelling at him. Bjorn swerved around them and sped away.
His mind was a chaotic mess, throbbing with an intense headache.
Ever since his escape began, it felt like he hadn't slept a wink, nor could he remember if he had eaten anything. He had been walking and running in a half-asleep, trance-like state, frantically searching for the right direction. While driving, he would drift in and out of consciousness, the scenery before his eyes flickering incessantly like a slideshow.
Where was he now? The Border Line? Deep within the Tenth District? The borders near his final destination?
The rearview mirror above reflected Bjorn's bloodshot eyes.
He looked absolutely dreadful. His hair was a disheveled rat's nest, his entire body was caked in grime, and he was driving a high-powered off-road vehicle that clearly didn't belong to him. He looked like nothing more than a homeless drifter or a Car Thief.
'To hell with this,' he thought. 'I used to be the deputy facility director, a Class-B member of the Bureau!'
The blaring of the Tracker softened, transforming into a much gentler, distinctly directional and commanding series of beeps.
Bjorn forcefully pinched his philtrum, compelling himself to stay awake.
He finally remembered the agreed-upon meeting address. Based on the street sign he had just seen, it shouldn't be far away.
He would definitely arrive before sunrise tomorrow.
"I know you have had enough of the Bureau's pedantic system. How about we make a deal?" said the man who had inexplicably approached him during his vacation. "You have Level 3 clearance and can access many things we need. We can give you what you desire, and introduce you to a much broader world."
At the time, Bjorn's initial reaction was to assume this was an agent sent by the Bureau for some Fishing.
He had endured far too many of these surprise loyalty tests.
But just as he grabbed his Communication Device, ready to call for security, the man showed him something.
Something that absolutely could never exist within the Bureau...
The Tracker's beeps became increasingly distinct. Bjorn accelerated the car, racing toward the setting sun as it slipped below the horizon.
He was almost there.
-----------------
Shi Rang weaved through the overgrown weeds and rusted buildings, searching for the Photograph that would set him free.
A factory? No.
A reaction tower? No.
He pressed the shutter again and again, rejected the results, marched forward, took another shot, and repeated the endless cycle.
He had slipped into a state akin to hypnosis.
A voice in the depths of his heart told him that as long as he scoured every inch of this Old Industrial Zone, he would be able to break free from this predicament.
But another voice immediately followed—if he couldn't even get past the Chief Editor, how could he overcome the myriad of future challenges and go search for Ying Shang?
Finally, he slammed to a halt deep within the industrial zone. Gripping his Camera tightly, he let out a furious roar at the empty road.
This shout was utterly meaningless, yet it felt more resounding than any mark he had ever left on the world. His voice tore through the deserted factory grounds, echoing endlessly between the dilapidated structures.
He had had enough.
All his pent-up frustration flooded against the Gate of his anger. Mustering his courage, Shi Rang climbed to the top of an open-air staircase. He held his mobile phone high in the air, waving it around until he caught a single, faint bar of signal. Pressing the dial button with enough force to shatter the screen, he put it on speaker.
A few seconds later, the Chief Editor's voice crackled through.
"What's wrong, still haven't gotten the phot—"
"I quit! To hell with your Photographs, and to hell with your news!"
There was dead silence on the other end of the line for several seconds. The Chief Editor was clearly stunned by the sudden outburst.
Shi Rang had always been a somewhat spineless, honest man, but many people forgot that even honest men had their breaking point.
"I don't care about your exclusive authorization! I am not putting my name on this story, and I am not participating anymore. I will just pretend none of this ever happened! When the Alliance comes knocking to ask you about the investigation rights, you can explain it to them yourself!"
"Hold on a minute, you—"
With a sharp click, Shi Rang ended the call.
He was jobless now, but the heavy burden on his shoulders had also been lifted.
He had only forced his way into the journalism industry to investigate Ying Shang's whereabouts in the first place. Since he was going to become a traveler next anyway, quitting was just quitting.
It wasn't as if the sky was going to fall.
That was right. The Chief Editor had already published the initial press release, though he hadn't yet sent out the detailed, in-depth report. The Chief Editor's biggest mistake was giving him the investigation rights. The Alliance would ensure that Shi Rang was recognized as the primary investigator and publisher. The one who should be panicking was the Chief Editor, not him.
Even if the news story became outdated, even if he didn't receive a single dime, he had already sought justice for the victims.
Either way, he wasn't going to let the Chief Editor have an easy time!
A life is a life, no matter how it's lived. He had originally arrived in the Tenth District with empty pockets, and he could certainly find a way to survive now!
His wildly pounding heart gradually settled down. Shi Rang knew his choice left him with no way back, but he didn't regret it.
At the very least, he had reclaimed his own fury.
Snapped back to reality, he suddenly realized the sky had turned completely dark. The moon was half-hidden behind a veil of clouds. It was as if a giant hand had quietly spun the planet, sweeping away the dusk and early evening in a single stroke, forcefully ushering in the absolute reign of the night.
'When did it get dark?'
'Just how long have I been running around here pointlessly?'
Relying on the faint moonlight, he descended the stairs, gazing out at the endless, overlapping buildings. This place wasn't nearly as open as the Old Industrial Zone in Pingyuan City. Densely packed factories, Warehouses, storage silos, and processing lines were all crammed together. No matter which direction he looked, his line of sight ended at the silhouette of some massive structure.
A labyrinth forged from concrete and rusted metal.
'Since I've quit my job, I should probably hurry home...'
'I'll worry about the formal paperwork tomorrow. I still have some belongings at the office I need to collect...'
He tried to discern the direction he had come from, but amid the howling wind and the rustling weeds, a sound resembling the roar of an operating excavator seemed to echo around him. The groaning, swaying buildings trembled before his eyes as the moonlight overhead gradually faded. Shadows engulfed him entirely, and he felt the sensation of soil rising past his chest once more. Trembling so violently he could no longer hold his Camera, Shi Rang was forced to fall to his knees. He frantically patted the ground and his unburdened legs, desperately reminding himself that he was standing on solid earth.
When the initial wave of terror subsided, he found himself completely drenched in sweat.
He still couldn't adapt to the darkness; he still couldn't overcome the shadow of that traumatic memory.
He had stayed outside for far too long!
Shi Rang turned on his phone's flashlight, holding the beam high to survey the maze around him.
He should have come from the road ahead. He remembered taking a picture of that water tower...
It was then that he realized he had made a grave mistake.
His phone's battery was almost dead.