TIC 95

 Chapter 95

In less than thirty seconds, every single one of the pursuers had been completely wiped out.

This gave their morale a tremendous boost.

Instinctively, Xiao Yan thrust his fist in Casey’s direction—a gesture of celebration. The very next instant, however, he felt a pang of self-consciousness, as if he were getting a bit too carried away. Just as he was about to pull his fist back, Casey’s fist met his in a solid bump. Xiao Yan’s heart gave a flutter, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Neither of them let their guard down, however; they both knew that these pursuers were likely nothing more than cannon fodder sent by Valentine to probe their strength.

The sprawling Antarctic base loomed just ahead, leaving Xiao Yan utterly astonished. In the span of mere months, Valentine had somehow managed to construct such a complete and sophisticated base in Antarctica. According to the scans from their aircraft, the facility extended to incredible depths and possessed an exceptionally sturdy structure—even its primary support beams were forged from ultra-dense titanium alloy. Xiao Yan could scarcely believe it; where on earth had Valentine found the manpower and material resources to pull this off?

Just as they closed to within two hundred meters of the base, their aircraft suddenly began to plummet!

Xiao Yan and Casey found themselves completely unable to control the engines; it felt as though some massive, irresistible force was dragging the craft down.

The situation spiraled out of control. Xiao Yan and Casey sounded the alarm, and in the split second before the aircraft slammed into the ground and exploded, everyone on board ejected.

The blast triggered an avalanche on the distant glaciers; as Xiao Yan tumbled across the ground, he could feel the violent tremors shaking the earth beneath him. A wave of scorching air seared past his back, though his combat suit shielded him from the intense heat. Xiao Yan scrambled to his feet; once he had confirmed that everyone had successfully and safely ejected from the aircraft, he let out a long, relieved breath.

“Damn it—what the hell just happened?!” Mark bellowed in frustration.

Heine crouched down, brushing aside the thick layer of snow to reveal a layer of metallic-looking material beneath.

“It’s a magnetic field. Valentine has utilized a magnetic field conversion device to disrupt the aircraft’s engine functions. No matter how powerful a pilot’s neural processing might be, they are powerless to counteract the damage such a magnetic field inflicts upon the engines.”

Xiao Yan immediately contacted their backup forces, issuing a stern warning: under no circumstances were they to fly their aircraft anywhere near this zone until the disruptive devices had been located and neutralized. He turned around; the gray base looming before him resembled a beast groaning in the biting wind—poised to strike, ready to swallow them whole.

Wynn let out a cold, mocking chuckle. "Are we sure we want to go in? Would Valentine really open the gates just to welcome our 'distinguished' arrival?"

Even knowing full well it was a trap, they had no choice but to press forward. The support team halted at the perimeter of the magnetic field converter, where they began the dismantling process.

"Let's go." With an expressionless face, Jian strode forward step by step, leaving a trail of footprints across the icy plains; without a word of hesitation, Casey shouldered his terminal equipment and followed close behind him.

Upon reaching the base's entrance, Jian came to a halt and spoke in a cold, measured tone: "Xiao Yan, Casey—activate your wireless terminals!"

Having given the order, Jian pressed his palm against the door panel. His biometric data was instantly recognized, and from the speakers overhead came a voice saying, "Welcome home." It was Claire's voice; Casey’s shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly. The massive doors began to part slowly, revealing a deep, seemingly endless corridor stretching out before them; the biting wind howled as it rushed inside, creating a low, guttural moan.

Jian drew his twin blades and stepped forward. Casey reached out to grab him, but before he could—the moment Jian’s first foot touched the ground—the entire corridor instantly lit up from the outside in.

"Is this his way of saying 'Welcome'?" Mark scratched his head.

"He’s not going to make it easy for us to get in," Casey scoffed, lowering his goggles to scan the corridor walls. "There are laser emitters installed all along the walls. No matter how powerful your regenerative healing abilities are, if you get sliced ​​into chunks of meat by those lasers, not even a god could save you."

"Lasers... how delightfully retro. I half-expected him to just launch missiles at us!" Wynn drew the "Silver Wing"—a throwing blade—from his waist and sent it spinning along the floor. The moment it tripped a pressure sensor, several laser beams flashed out, instantly slicing the Silver Wing into a shower of metal shards. "So, how exactly are we supposed to get through this?"

Jian smiled and flexed his wrists. "Why, by destroying every single one of those laser emitters, of course."

No sooner had the words left his lips than Hein drew his Cryo-Gun, assembling it with practiced efficiency. In less than half a second, he gripped the weapon firmly and charged headlong into the corridor. “Hein—” Xiao Yan was just about to step forward when Jian suddenly shoved him backward; Xiao Yan stumbled right into Casey’s arms.

“Do you really think Jian and Hein are mere amateurs?”

As they charged deeper into the corridor, lasers began to fire—weaving together like a series of intricate nets. To be struck by one would mean a fate too horrific to imagine.

Wynn and his two companions stood guard around Xiao Yan. Meanwhile, Hein sprang onto the wall, executing a mid-air spin; a laser beam sliced ​​past his ankle and grazed his raised arm. Yet, in the split second before the beam could cleave him in two, Hein pulled the trigger, destroying the laser emitter. The instant his feet touched the ground, another two or three lasers fired in rapid succession, their angles shifting constantly.

Xiao Yan’s heart pounded with tension, his brain calculating the angles with lightning speed. Hein, acting with an indescribable telepathy, moved in perfect sync with Xiao Yan’s mental projections: he swept past the first laser with flawless precision, destroyed the second just before it could shift its trajectory, and then—leaning his body at a sharp angle—took out the third.

Jian, by contrast, was direct and brutal. He used the blade of his weapon to deflect the lasers, ricocheting them at specific angles to destroy other emitters. With a sudden, violent pivot, he thrust his blade deep into another emitter before it could even change direction. It was only then that Xiao Yan realized Jian’s blade was forged from ultra-dense titanium—the very material that allowed it to reflect lasers. This, surely, was one of Casey’s masterpieces.

Xiao Yan drew the sidearm from his waist and exchanged a glance with Casey; the two shared a silent understanding. Jian and Hein alone could not possibly dismantle every single laser emitter; the corridor was simply too long!

Wynn did not try to stop Xiao Yan; instead, he fell in right behind him.

Xiao Yan’s rapid-fire proficiency was considered top-tier, even among the Special Task Forces. Since the laser emitters were inorganic objects, his cryogenic pistol could not automatically lock onto them; he had to aim manually. The deeper Jian and Hein advanced into the corridor, the denser the laser fire became, and the faster their angles shifted. It was up to Xiao Yan to go ahead of them—clearing the path and lightening their burden. Within a single second, Xiao Yan fired two shots in rapid succession; the cryogenic rounds grazed the stray strands of hair near Hein’s ear before embedding themselves in the distant wall. Within a minute, Xiao Yan had expended his supply of cryogenic rounds, while Hein and Jian reached the end of the corridor.

Mark and Liv cautiously escorted Xiao Yan, positioning him safely behind Hein.

At that moment, the main entrance to the base slammed shut. Xiao Yan attempted to use his communicator to contact their backup forces, but the signal failed to transmit.

Xiao Yan closed his eyes, pressing the back of his head hard against the wall; they had absolutely no retreat now.

"Can you hack into the main control system here?" Jian extended a finger, but just as he was about to poke Xiao Yan’s cheek, Hein’s hand shot out and clamped down on his. Hein’s hand formed an impenetrable barrier in front of Xiao Yan; his grip was so forceful that a distinct *crack* echoed in Xiao Yan’s ears—the sound of Jian’s finger bones shattering.

Xiao Yan seized Hein’s wrist, forcing him to release Jian. Jian shook out his fingers and offered a nonchalant smile.

"I can’t hack it. It’s not just that external communication signals are being jammed; I can’t even detect a single usable signal within the base’s internal network," Xiao Yan said, his brow furrowed in frustration.

Wen En placed his palm against the wall and gave a cold snort. "It seems Valentine is truly wary of Xiao Yan’s intellect and has no intention of letting his mind interface with this system easily. The infrastructure here is surprisingly archaic—so much so that it actually renders our modern technological tools completely useless."

"What does that mean?" Mark asked, craning his neck to look.

Wen En shoved Mark back. "You don’t need to understand what it means!"

They pressed onward; the path stretching before them led down into the depths of the base.

Mark lowered his head to peer down; the entire space was brilliantly illuminated, yet an unsettling sense of dread and horror permeated the air. The floor gleamed like a glass mirror, leaving one to wonder what kind of rigorous scrubbing and polishing had been required to achieve such a finish.

"Surely there aren't any mutant monsters down here, are there?"

"Of course not. We’ve all been injected with the Sharon Virus; no zombie poses any threat to us anymore." Xiao Yan narrowed his eyes. He had to admit that, at this moment, he felt deeply unsettled—as if every step they took was merely playing out exactly according to Valentine’s script, leaving them with absolutely no other options. “Calm down. You once said, ‘There is no such thing as complete preparation’—and that applies to us just as much as it does to Valentine.”

As Hein’s words rang in Xiao Yan’s ears, his mind—which had been growing somewhat restless—instantly settled into a profound stillness.

“Let’s go.”

They made their way downward; the entire base was eerily empty, leaving one to wonder if there really was anyone else here besides themselves.

This silence cast a pall of inexplicable tension over Xiao Yan’s heart. Liv, Mark, and Wynn maintained a constant triangular formation, shielding Xiao Yan on all sides. All Xiao Yan wanted now was to find a control room or a laboratory—anywhere he could interface with the local system to map out the base’s layout.

However, the sheer emptiness of the base was already wearing on Mark’s patience. He lowered his voice and cursed under his breath: “Damn it—is Valentine really hiding in here? There’s nothing here at all!”

Xiao Yan narrowed his eyes and looked up at the vast space overhead; the walls were lined with countless closed doorways.

“There might not be ‘nothing’ after all.”

No sooner had the words left his lips than the doors sprang open simultaneously, accompanied by the faint sound of something sliding down at high speed. Everyone went on high alert. As an object whizzed past overhead, Mark swiftly drew his blade and sliced ​​it in two. The air was filled with the sickening crunch of bone and muscle shattering, followed by a shower of blood raining down—carrying with it the distinct chemical scent of laboratory nutrient fluids. Hein yanked Xiao Yan out of the way just as the severed remains hit the floor, leaving everyone frozen in shock. It was a corpse—the body of a boy who appeared to be no older than twelve or thirteen. His eyes were wide and staring; his muscles had clearly atrophied, and his facial features were grotesquely distorted—a face that felt strangely familiar, yet one they couldn't quite place. However, the moment Xiao Yan spotted the small mole near the corner of the boy’s eye, his gaze instinctively shifted toward Jian.

Jian lowered his head and used the tip of his blade to turn the corpse’s face toward himself, his eyes devoid of even a flicker of warmth.

“It’s a failed clone. If I’m not mistaken, this place is Valentine’s factory for manufacturing ‘children.’”

At that very moment, over a dozen more bodies came sliding out of the openings above. As they crashed onto the floor, some with shattered skulls and others hideously deformed, the sight was so gruesome that one could barely bear to look. “We need to get out of here—fast! It’s obvious this entire floor is designed to dispose of failed clones! They’re going to release the dissolving agent any moment now! It’ll dissolve any organic matter on contact!” Casey warned sternly, watching as an increasing number of corpses slid past them.

“Damn it! No wonder the floor down here is so shiny!” Mark cursed.

“How do we get out? Where do we go? There’s only one path here, and going back the way we came would be completely pointless,” Liv said, furrowing her brows.

Without a word, Hein fired his grappling hook; it sank deep into one of the corpse-disposal chutes, and he reached out a hand toward Xiao Yan. “Let’s go!”

Xiao Yan nodded. This chute *had* to lead to the cloning and incubation labs! And where there were labs, there would be terminals! Xiao Yan began climbing up the rope. The interior of the chute was slick and smooth; he could only inch his way forward by bracing his hands and feet firmly against the curved walls. Corpses kept sliding down past them, brushing so close that their faces were mere inches apart. Several times, just as Xiao Yan was on the verge of losing his grip and tumbling back down with the bodies, Hein would thrust his shoulder beneath Xiao Yan’s feet, giving him the leverage he needed to hold on. The nutrient fluid clinging to the corpses smeared all over Hein’s body, but with every muscle strained to support Xiao Yan, he had no time—or inclination—to care about the sticky, viscous liquid coating him.

Finally, just as Xiao Yan managed to latch onto the lip of the chute’s exit, two more bodies came tumbling down, nearly knocking him loose. Hein let out a muffled grunt of exertion as he gave one final, powerful shove, forcing Xiao Yan up and out of the chute. Collapsed on the floor, Xiao Yan looked up—and was instantly stunned by the scene before his eyes.

Within the cavernous darkness, countless incubation tanks stood arrayed in rows. Inside each tank floated a clone, sleeping peacefully within its bath of nutrient fluid. Xiao Yan gazed out across the vast space; even in the deepest recesses of the chamber, the faint, shimmering glow of the incubation tanks could be seen. Every single one of them shared the exact same DNA as Jane. Some were still infants; others appeared to be only a few years old; and some were nearing adulthood. Not far away, inside one of the culture tanks, a clone suddenly began to convulse violently. His eyes snapped open—shifting instantly from a vacant, unfocused stare to a frenzied, desperate gaze fixed upon Xiao Yan. Blood vessels burst within his eyeballs as he pounded incessantly against the glass, struggling to break free; thrashing wildly within the nutrient fluid as if gasping for air, he appeared to be suffocating. With every struggle, his skin began to slough away, exposing raw, crimson flesh beneath; as the nutrient fluid seeped into his open wounds, his agony intensified tenfold.

This clone was a failure.

Xiao Yan found himself utterly unable to tear his eyes away—until a hand suddenly cupped over his eyes, gently guiding his head back against the chest behind him.

"Don't look."

Hein’s cool, measured voice washed over Xiao Yan’s mind. Instinctively, Xiao Yan tightened his grip around Hein’s wrist, feeling the steady rise and fall of the man’s chest with every breath. To Xiao Yan, *this*—Hein’s warmth, Hein’s breathing—was the true proof of life.

Then came a loud *thud*—the lifeless clone slid from the bottom of the culture tank. Carried along by the machinery, it dropped into a disposal chute, discarded like so much refuse.

When Hein finally lifted his hand, Xiao Yan looked up to see that a new embryo had already been implanted into the culture tank before him—a nightmarish cycle beginning anew.

Wen En and Liv finally managed to haul Mark back up; the big man had been swept away by the surging tide of corpses several times over. Now, every single person present stood gaping in stunned silence at the horror unfolding before their eyes. “My God—how many... how many of them are there here? Are they *really* all Jane Wallis?” Mark tapped a finger incredulously against one of the petri dishes. “That means Valentine Sheen could actually manufacture an entire army! And an army with the combat capabilities of a Special Operations Task Force, at that! My God!”

“Yes, that is exactly how Kathy and I came into this world. Directly replicating a complete organism from DNA alone is inherently fraught with instability; furthermore, Valentine wanted us to possess enhanced adaptability to the X-Virus. Consequently, embryos exposed to the X-Virus were far more prone to deformities and premature death. Out of hundreds—perhaps even thousands—of clones, perhaps only one would survive. That is the fundamental difference between us and you: we have never known where we truly belong. Ah... no—genetically speaking, *I am* Valentine Sheen.” Jane curled her lips in a self-deprecating smile.

“Even if these petri dishes aren't linked to the main control hub, they must at least be connected to the research labs here!” Wynn meticulously examined the structure of the petri dishes, searching for a conduit through which he could interface the wireless terminal Xiao Yan was carrying. “The wiring in this place is really strange...”

Xiao Yan furrowed his brows. “Wynn, don't bother checking. These petri dishes aren't connected to any terminals at all. They require nothing more than a rudimentary information control system—one simply programmed to continuously repeat the cloning process!”

“Damn it! Now that we’ve landed in this godforsaken place, how are we supposed to continue our search for Valentine?” Wynn gestured toward the distance, his stance suggesting that the entire base was overrun with these petri dishes.

At that very moment, Xiao Yan sensed something silently approaching from the darkness ahead. In an instant, a flurry of “Silver Wings”—razor-sharp projectiles—were unleashed; ruthlessly shattering the petri dishes and even piercing through the bodies of the clones within, they hurtled straight toward the group. Everyone dodged simultaneously. Xiao Yan planted his left foot against a petri dish to launch himself into the air; mid-leap, he drew the dagger sheathed against his thigh to parry a Silver Wing aimed squarely at his waist. As he hung suspended in the air, Xiao Yan realized that the attackers were not merely a handful of individuals, but an entire swarm.

A flash of cold steel glinted at his flank. The instant Xiao Yan’s dagger clashed against his assailant’s blade, he caught a clear glimpse of the attacker’s face. “Jan—what are you doing!”

At that very moment, Jan suddenly slumped to the ground; two assassins—identical to him in appearance—lunged at his shoulders from either side, blades flashing.

“Holy hell—why are there so many Jan Wallaces?!” Mark’s shout rang out.

It turned out these assassins were all clones of Jan!

The assassins from the Tide Organization were already formidable enough to deal with; if these particular killers all possessed the skill level of Jan Wallace...

It was a disaster!

Xiao Yan ducked low; his dagger slashed across the assassin's abdomen. Instantly, he circled behind the man and drove the blade deep into the back of his neck.

As the assassin slumped to the ground, Xiao Yan’s eyes locked with his—sending a shiver down his spine. Those eyes were utterly different from Jian’s; they were cold to the point of utter emptiness, devoid of any fear of death—as if his very existence were merely that of a machine.

More assassins attacked. Behind Xiao Yan, nutrient fluid continued to pour from a shattered culture vessel. He executed a sudden slide, and the instant he hit the ground, he hurled his dagger with ruthless precision. An enemy blade deflected Xiao Yan’s projectile, but in that split second, Hein slashed out and severed the man’s neck. As hordes of assassins continued to swarm in, Hein grabbed Xiao Yan and hauled him to his feet, then turned to parry their attacks with an overwhelming, commanding presence. Intimidated by Hein, the assassins moved cautiously, probing for an opening to strike.

Xiao Yan crouched down and snatched up a blade that an assassin had dropped. The moment the enemies lunged at Hein, Xiao Yan moved with fluid ease, gliding past two attackers. He parried one man’s blade, then executed a horizontal slash across the other’s waist; as he retreated, he spun around and smashed the pommel of his weapon against the back of the man’s skull. It all unfolded in less than a second. As the assassin collapsed, his eyes remained wide open, staring at Xiao Yan in utter disbelief at his own demise. Just as another assassin attempted to ambush Xiao Yan, Hein—balancing atop a shattered culture vessel—brought his blade down in a sweeping aerial strike. Cutting from the man’s shoulder down toward his chest, he cleaved through him with unstoppable force.

Xiao Yan spun around and kicked the assassin’s lower torso aside. As the upper half of the body hit the ground—still clutching its blade in a dying grip—Xiao Yan delivered a final kick that smashed the head to pieces.

Not far away, Mark and Liv were working in tandem to dispatch several assassins, while Wynn, too, was now splattered from head to toe with blood.

What took Xiao Yan by surprise was Casey’s combat prowess—agile, unpredictable, and virtually impossible to guard against. As Casey twisted off an assassin’s head, his face betrayed not a shred of mercy; he knew exactly what his objective was, and he possessed the unwavering resolve required to achieve it. As for Jan—his arrogant abandon went without saying. His blade pierced a killer’s chest, then flung him aside; the steel flashed in a sharp arc, forcing the assassins to give ground while he pressed his attack with utter fearlessness. His movements appeared casual, yet they were the product of years of accumulated combat experience; he always managed to seize that fleeting, subtle instant to deliver the most lethal strike.

Wynn draped an arm over Mark’s shoulder, admiring the form Jan struck with his final blow. This time, however, his expression was grave; Jan had once been hailed as Hein’s successor—a reputation he had certainly earned.

"I have to say, while it’s satisfying to repeatedly kill Jan Wallis, constantly having to look at the exact same face is really starting to turn my stomach."

Wynn spoke slowly.

Jan smiled as he sheathed his blade in the scabbard on his back. Still smiling, he approached Xiao Yan and lowered his head slightly. "Oh dear—look, your hair has gotten all dirty."

"These assassins didn't just crawl out of a petri dish; they’ve been trained. They are finished products." Xiao Yan looked down at the corpses strewn across the floor.

"Finished products they may be, but they fall far short of my standard. If even a third of them possessed my level of skill, not even Hein Burton could guarantee getting you out of here alive." Jan crouched down, gazing at the faces—each one an exact replica of his own.

Hein walked deeper into the shadows, and Xiao Yan followed.

"Boss—where are you going?"

Liv finally lost patience and gave Mark a shove. "You idiot! These assassins got *in* here from somewhere else! If they could get in, we can get out!"

They pressed forward, passing row after row of still-intact culture tanks, until they finally discovered an open hatchway in the floor.

"It feels like we’re walking deeper and deeper into Valentine’s trap—sinking in too deep to pull ourselves out." Liv frowned. "I’ve got a really bad feeling about this."