Chapter 33: The Journey Back

The journey back is always faster than the journey there.

Shi Rang found a clearing devoid of shade and stepped into the fading, amber sunlight to warm his body, only to realize the lighthouse had already appeared not far ahead. He looked back down the mountain. The old industrial zone was now teeming with people; vehicles and crowds squeezed into the ruins like ants, as if carving up the skeletal remains of the district. He had spent less than a day there, yet it felt as agonizingly long as several months. Only now did he truly feel detached from that night of madness.

Clutching his camera, Shi Rang quickened his pace. He needed to reach the lighthouse before the temperature dropped, change into his spare clothes to survive the night, and head back down tomorrow to handle the remaining tasks—fixing his phone and returning to Yunling City.

Perhaps sensing the scent of death clinging to him, a flock of vultures circled above the lighthouse, letting out harsh, croaking cries as they wove a distant vortex against the half-orange, half-grey-blue sky. Shi Rang squinted, peering toward the lighthouse past the final stretch of the path.

A figure seemed to be standing at the entrance. Was it debris? Trash swept there by the wind? An optical illusion? Shi Rang stared at the silhouette as he gradually drew closer. Finally, his footsteps caught the stranger's attention; the person lowered their binoculars and waved.

"I've been waiting for you for quite a while, Mr. Shi Rang."

The terrors of the previous night left a heavy shadow over him. Shi Rang halted, only daring to approach once he recognized the familiar insignia on the stranger's coat. "Are you with the Pan-Continental Alliance?"

"A special inspector from the Pingyuan City Regional Investigation Bureau—a pleasure to meet you." The stranger extended a hand generously, but beyond stating their position, offered no name or identification.

Shi Rang hesitated, suspicious. Only after confirming no one else was in sight did he reluctantly shake the inspector's hand. It was the first time today someone had made contact with him without showing signs of disgust. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the inspector had two paper rolls stuffed into their nostrils, clearly forcing a smile. This job was not easy either, it seemed.

"I wanted to chat with you a few days ago about your investigation, to see if there were any potential violations, but I couldn't find you in the city. I came here to wait, though it seems I missed you. A major incident occurred in the old industrial zone yesterday, didn't it?"

Shi Rang felt a jolt of alarm. His time in Pingyuan City had been brief; he had headed straight for the lighthouse after making preparations. He had been under surveillance the entire time, yet upon reflecting on the source of the Investigation Bureau's absolute authority, he felt a sense of resignation. The Bureau had helped him immensely—these were the costs. The stranger hadn't verified their identity in detail, but this remark was proof enough.

"This is my first time applying for authorization. What should I do? Do I need to provide a statement?"

"I already have a basic understanding of the situation. Just copy the data from your camera; it won't take five minutes."

The inspector pulled a device no larger than a palm from their pocket, asked for the memory card, and inserted it into the slot. The fierce mountain wind whipped at their clothes; both the shirtless Shi Rang and the inspector felt the biting cold and stinging pain on their cheeks, prompting them to move into the lighthouse simultaneously.

Shi Rang buried his head in his bag, sighing with relief when he confirmed his wallet was still there. He sat awkwardly to one side, pulling on his spare shirt and gripping his wallet, listening to the low hum of the small device and hoping the visitor would leave soon.

"You were born in the Second District, weren't you, Mr. Shi Rang?" The inspector leaned near a small window, gazing at the magnificent sunset over the sea, admiring the light bleeding across the water. "Why come to the Tenth District?"

Shi Rang looked up, guarded. "Is this part of the investigation?"

"No, just personal curiosity. You know, the Tenth District used to be a decent place. Back when the economy was soaring, it was nicknamed 'Little First District.' It’s a pity the border policies ruined it; now it’s the absolute bottom. I’ve applied for immigration to the Second District many times, but none were approved—I even suspect the rumors are true, that they just really like yellow-skinned people. Many want to move up, but moving down is a rarity. So, why come to live in our smoggy little corner?"

Shi Rang’s gaze rested on the wallet in his hand for a moment. "For freedom."

There was nothing to hide; he no longer cared about the past. If he hadn't fled, he would never have met Ying Shang, and he would never have imagined what a normal life looked like. This answer clearly wasn't what the inspector expected—Shi Rang noted with satisfaction how the stranger's mouth opened slightly. Even if only for a second, he caught it.

"You really are... quite the character. If it were me, I wouldn't give up the Second District."

The small device emitted a beep.

"I’m glad you could cooperate with my work. Once you return to Yunling City, your authorization will expire. Please return all items related to the Investigation Bureau to the office by then."

The inspector finished speaking rapidly, handed back the memory card, and departed. It was late; in a few steps, they dissolved into the night. Shi Rang didn't ask how they planned to navigate the mountain at night, nor did he intend to follow them back to the city. He wanted to be alone.

The light from the charcoal stove illuminated the base of the lighthouse. Shi Rang closed the door and sat by himself. The wind roared against the cliffs and reefs, questioning where he would go from here. He raised his camera, and in the red glow of the charcoal, he flipped through the photos unrelated to the case—ones he had used for practice: magnificent sunrises and sunsets, succulents on a balcony, a tidy room, an old photograph of him and Ying Shang...

After escaping the ordeal of life and death, his heart needed this vitality and warmth to melt the protective shell he had built around himself. Since Ying Shang’s disappearance, it was the first time he had truly begun to plan for the future.

***

The Facility Committee approved the reconstruction of Facility 031, with the site designated exactly where the ruins stood, not a fraction of a difference from the original location. The "Seed of the Apocalypse" had destroyed the building's structure, but the geology remained unchanged, making it the optimal location for reconstruction.

Upon receiving the order, the Theta-10 "Windmill" mobile task force began their operations. Not all task forces consisted of high-combat military personnel; engineering units specialized in search, screening, and cleanup like "Windmill" were granted task force status due to their exceptional capabilities. Such non-combat units were often large, possessing several internal departments.

After round-the-clock shifts by multiple engineering teams, all buried inert contained objects were re-contained, and the debris and remains of the original facility were cleared away. Once the construction hoardings were removed, a clean, massive pit was revealed. Engineering teams then took over to lay new foundations and building frames.

The site commander of "Windmill" took off his hard hat and had just reached for his communicator when the new facility director walked into the tent.

"You've worked hard these days. It is an honor to have such smooth cooperation with the task force since I took office."

The new director was in his early fifties—quite young, considering the rank of his position. He had lived at the construction site for the past few days, occasionally joining in the work and coordinating various parties, earning the commander's respect. However, at this moment, the commander’s expression darkened.

"I was just about to contact you, Director. There is bad news."

The new director turned serious immediately. "Is it from the 'Hippies'? I just received word that they lost at least three anomalous creatures at the border. No bodies or remains were found in the mountains, and Bjorn and the classified documents he stole remain missing..."

"It’s not bad news from that front. My colleagues just completed the second sweep of the surrounding area and conducted a reinforced interrogation of CVA-C-888. Their new representative confessed that they lied about the individual count—the actual number of C-888 individuals in the containment cell was 9,000, which is significantly different from the number we re-contained."

The director lowered his head slightly, clearly running through the possibilities in his mind. A few seconds later, his brow furrowed deeper.

"C-888 does not have the ability to travel long distances and cannot bypass the perimeter fence. There are no containment objects in the facility capable of high-speed movement, except..."

The commander nodded heavily.

"They hitched a ride on that new type of infector. At least 3,000 individuals have entered a state of containment breach."