Yu Youhan pushed the stretcher cart half a step forward and replied in Japanese, “Discarded samples from Processing Room Three. Director Matsumoto ordered them transferred to the incinerator.”
Director Matsumoto did exist. Yu Youhan had seen the name in several empty laboratories.
The Japanese man stopped in front of them.
He glanced at the white cloth covering the stretcher, then at Yu Youhan’s face beneath the mask.
“Identification.”
Xiao Xian’s breathing caught.
Without hesitation, Yu Youhan pulled a pass card from his breast pocket and handed it over.
They had stripped it from a drunken military doctor. The photograph didn’t match, and neither did the name.
Under normal circumstances, nobody would check too carefully in a place like this. These people were used to being arrogant—and lazy.
But today, they had run into a troublesome one.
The Japanese man examined the pass card twice, then tapped the photograph with one finger.
“What’s your name?”
Yu Youhan answered, “Tanaka Kenji.”
“Which department?”
“Pathology transport.”
“Since when did pathology transport come under Director Matsumoto?”
The passageway fell silent.
The distant hum of machinery pressed against their eardrums.
Xiao Xian had already reached for the knife beneath the cart.
Yu Youhan suddenly let out a sigh.
The Japanese man frowned. “What are you sighing about?”
Yu Youhan cursed him viciously in Japanese.
The Japanese man froze.
Lowering his voice, Yu Youhan said, “If you don’t believe me, go ask Director Matsumoto yourself. That sample just puked all over me, and now you want me to stand here giving you a department-by-department report? If you’re going to check, then hurry up. If you delay the incineration schedule and Director Matsumoto starts chewing someone out, you can stand in front of me and take it.”
The words sounded exactly like one low-level worker trying to shove the blame onto another.
Even Xiao Xian, watching him through his mask, almost failed to keep up.
The Japanese man lowered his gaze to the edge of the white cloth.
A section of bandage stained with chemicals protruded from beneath it, giving off a pungent smell.
He took half a step back and tossed the pass card away in disgust.
“Go.”
Yu Youhan caught the card and lowered his head as he pushed the cart forward.
Xiao Xian followed him past the man, his back already soaked with sweat.
But just as they brushed past him, the Japanese man suddenly spoke.
“Wait.”
Yu Youhan stopped.
The man turned around and slowly said, his tone carrying a hint of amusement, “How come I don’t remember telling you to transport any discarded samples?”
Before he had even finished speaking, Xiao Xian had already drawn his knife and driven it precisely into the Japanese man’s throat.
“Brother Han, this potato-head was just trying to toy with us. Good thing he got too pleased with himself.”
Yu Youhan took a deep breath. Apparently, Director Matsumoto had assumed they belonged to another faction, rather than realizing they were infiltrators.
Luckily, it was immediately obvious whether anyone wearing protective clothing here was carrying a firearm.
Yu Youhan promptly lifted the white cloth and placed Director Matsumoto’s body on the stretcher as well.
As for the blood on the floor, it didn’t matter. They had already left plenty of blood soaking into the ground along the way.
That was also why everyone wore protective clothing.
Only after finishing all this did they finally let out a breath of relief.
“I was too certain of myself.” Yu Youhan was somewhat frustrated. They had nearly been exposed.
“Not your fault. We just had bad luck. When necessary, we still have to act directly.”
Xiao Xian hid the knife beneath the cart again and continued pushing.
The terrain here gave them a tremendous advantage.
The underground passageways branched in all directions. Exposed pipes ran along them, and every so often, Japanese signs were posted on the walls.
To transport equipment, the Japanese army had deliberately built the main passageways wide. Wearing protective clothing and pushing a stretcher cart, Yu Youhan and Xiao Xian hardly stood out at all.
The Japanese army’s ability to dig tunnels was, admittedly, impressive.
In just three years, they had hollowed out such a massive underground laboratory inside the mountain.
Ventilation and electricity, drainage and isolation rooms, testing areas—almost everything was fully equipped.
If not for the inhumane atrocities committed inside, the project itself would have been enough to make someone curse in disbelief, then grudgingly admit how formidable it was.
“It’s a shame we can’t find whoever’s in charge here,” Xiao Xian muttered through clenched teeth. “If I get my hands on him, I’ll cut his throat wide open.”
Yu Youhan didn’t respond to the threat.
He watched two laboratory workers carrying documents pass the corner ahead. Only after they had gone did he say, “Killing one won’t solve anything. Today it’s someone named Matsumoto; tomorrow they can replace him with someone named Mikami. Shuizhao, the Japanese army may be short on personnel, but it’s never short on beasts.”
Xiao Xian choked for a moment, then cursed, “That makes me feel even worse.”
“Good. Then keep your hands from shaking.”
They turned into an equipment room.
Spare pipes, sealing valves, metal cases, and several barrels of chemical agents were piled inside. In the corner stood a row of numbered cable boxes.
Yu Youhan crouched to inspect one of the load-bearing pillars. He tapped the wall with his fingers, then looked up at the dense network of pipes overhead.
“We can place one set here.”
Xiao Xian took out the explosives and got to work.
They exchanged no unnecessary words. One unpacked the explosives while the other connected the wires. Their teamwork had long since been honed to perfection.
Ordinary explosives wouldn’t have enough power to send the entire underground laboratory sky-high. That would be wishful thinking.
But if they severed the power supply, destroyed the ventilation, and then ignited the chemical storage area, it would be enough to give these people a serious lesson.
They weren’t looking for a spectacular explosion.
They wanted chaos.
In enemy territory, the worst thing was for the enemy to remain steady.
As long as this place descended into disorder, the forces outside would have to divide their attention. Transport routes, checkpoints, and search teams would all be dragged into it.
That would give people in other places an opening.
Xiao Xian gathered the excess explosives beside the main power cable, then glanced at the nearby barrels of chemicals.
“Should we bring these along too?”
Yu Youhan checked the labels and shook his head. “I don’t recognize the contents. Don’t tamper with them. What if they can put out fires? Then all our work will be for nothing.”
Xiao Xian’s hand stopped. He muttered, “Brother Han, couldn’t you say something more encouraging?”
“The political instructor told us to prepare for the worst.”
With that, they left the equipment room.
Along the way, they encountered quite a few people: officers carrying documents, guards pushing cage carts, and laboratory workers.
But everyone wore protective clothing, and nobody paid them much attention. The people here were all busy—busy recording, busy moving things, busy turning human lives into numbers.
In a place like this, the busier everyone was, the less anyone cared about those passing by.
The explosives were in place, and the timers were set.
Xiao Xian synchronized his watch and reported in a low voice, “Twenty-five minutes at most from now. If the circuit’s too damp and the trigger fails, we’ll have to come back and activate it manually.”
“Let’s hope it goes off.”
“Withdraw?”
“Withdraw.”
They retraced their route.
Yu Youhan walked steadily. Xiao Xian, meanwhile, kept lowering his head to glance at the pocket watch in his hand. He didn’t say the numbers aloud, but the tip of his tongue lightly tapped a rhythm behind his teeth.
Seventeen minutes.
Sixteen minutes.
They had to reach a crowded area before the explosion—preferably after passing through the first checkpoint.
Once the explosives went off, they could use the confusion and the crowds to escape.
As for their compatriots imprisoned here…
The thought weighed heavily on Yu Youhan’s chest, making it difficult to breathe.
At least one entire division was stationed outside. Even if they opened the prison doors and released those who had suffered unspeakable torture, they still couldn’t take them away.
Many of the prisoners could barely stand. Forget crossing the mountains—they couldn’t even run out of this place.
Yu Youhan understood that.
But understanding it didn’t make it any easier to bear.

world slacker. But a genius female disciple just had to get clingy, insisting that he take her as a disciple. Not only that, she was always making advances on him, thoroughly disrupting his peaceful slacker life...

ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"

uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”