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Chapter 13: The More Cunning the Mind, the Easier It Is to Lose Everything
Bjorn couldn’t comprehend it.
How had a temp worker and someone with the “queue effect”—a pairing with less authority than even a janitor—managed to open the control room door?
His eyes widened as he stared at Robin standing outside the doorway, then shifted to Ray, and finally landed on the tablet cradled protectively in Robin’s arms. His confusion deepened.
Were they communicating with the outside?
Impossible! He had cut off every possible communication channel!
“You… I… you… you…”
Bjorn was so shocked he lost his ability to speak. He pointed frantically between the two of them but couldn’t form a coherent sentence.
“Do you think he’s okay? He seems really worked up seeing us.”
“He’s probably just scared. This is a pretty big deal after all.”
“Poor guy.”
Robin and Ray huddled together, whispering quietly.
“I’ll report the situation to Boss and ask what to do…”
Robin tapped out a few letters on her tablet, then noticed Ray retreating several steps back to the threshold of the doorframe. Curious, she glanced over.
Outside the control room, zombies filled the entire corridor, lined up obediently behind Ray. When Ray stepped near the door and pressed the switch, the heavy door slid shut with a hiss, slicing the queue in half and locking the horde outside.
Within seconds, the distant growls of frustration echoed through the facility—a sound that hadn’t been heard in some time.
“You canceled your influence?”
“Yeah, convenient, right? Just don’t accidentally look at my back now; the effect is back on me.”
Robin gave an “OK” sign with one hand and quickly resumed typing her report.
[Boss, we found another survivor! Can we bring him along?]
On the other side of the screen, Shi Rang pondered thoughtfully.
Finding someone in the control room wasn’t surprising—it was clearly a critical hub based on its name alone.
But did they need to take this person with them?
The facility was dangerous, and anyone stationed here, mere steps from the exit, must have been driven by conviction or bravery.
Perhaps this individual stayed behind to assist MTF reinforcements. Maybe it would be better to leave them here?
Shi Rang switched back to the activity page for reference, only to be startled by what he saw.
Time seemed to have jumped forward. The ETA for MTF arrival had shortened by over seven minutes, and the Doomsday Seed appeared to be spreading like wildfire, coloring the map with alarming speed—the control room was about to be surrounded!
“The Doomsday Seed shows abnormal activity. Take him and evacuate immediately.”
Shi Rang typed furiously, relaying the door codes marked on the map.
“Exit the control room, go straight ahead, pass through the residential area, and head toward the surface exit.
“The exit door code is 7355608!”
---
At the same moment Mud Truck’s instructions arrived, the tremors hit.
Everyone inside the control room was thrown violently to the floor.
The overhead lights flickered erratically—off, then red alert mode, before sputtering back on intermittently. The doorframe of their entryway warped under pressure, cracks splitting down the center of the door. Through the gaps, zombie arms reached in, clawing blindly.
The entire facility felt like a terminally ill patient, shaking uncontrollably, moments away from collapse.
“Warning: Structural supports compromised. Building stability decreased.”
Red text flashed ominously across the large monitor.
“Let’s move!”
Robin clutched her tablet tightly, crawling on all fours toward the exit. Tools and a blowtorch spilled from her pockets, but there was no time to retrieve them. Grabbing a wrench, she waited for the tremors to subside slightly before pulling Ray toward the far end of the room.
Meanwhile, the unnamed facility employee had already crawled to the exit door, clutching a heavy suitcase, and managed to pry it open.
Impressive reflexes for a formal member of a secret organization!
Robin tried to push Ray ahead, but he resisted fiercely, gesturing wildly toward his back. In the dim light, she failed to grasp his meaning.
Their awkward shuffling resulted in a bottleneck near the exit.
While they fumbled in the flashing lights and deafening noise, the employee slipped through the gap and bolted outside.
“Hey, wait! Don’t run off—do you know the way?”
Robin shouted after him, but the roar of destruction drowned her voice. Even Ray’s shouts beside her were barely audible.
She had no choice but to chase after him.
Before Ray forcibly shoved her out of the control room, Robin cast one last glance at the facility layout displayed on the main screen. It contained all the information needed for command operations, including remote electronic controls for various containment units.
...Could the doors to containment objects be opened from here?
The tremors continued relentlessly. The corridors seemed to shift and twist beneath their feet, the floor undulating like waves. Every few steps, they stumbled and fell, bruising knees and elbows. With the constant fear of plummeting into the abyss alongside collapsing hallways, each person scrambled desperately for survival.
Robin held tightly to her tablet and wrench, occasionally checking the movements of the fleeing employee and Ray. The former was heading in the correct direction, likely aiming for the same exit, while Ray lagged far behind.
As she ran, her mind raced.
When it came to "managing secret facilities," Robin’s knowledge came entirely from movies.
Coincidentally, she vaguely remembered an unconventional horror film where the protagonists trapped in a control room released all the monsters in a secret base by pressing a single, absurdly large red button.
That control room had looked advanced too. Could this one do the same thing?
If I were the mole, wouldn’t this be the perfect place to unleash chaos?
Robin’s eyes widened as she fixed her gaze on the stumbling figure ahead.
Why was this man, who hadn’t sought refuge, so terrified upon seeing other survivors?
Could this person be the mole?
---
If Bjorn knew what Robin was thinking, he’d have scoffed in indignation at her ignorance of Facility 031’s intricate layers of safety measures and permission hierarchies.
This plan had taken weeks of meticulous preparation, involving multiple nerve-wracking covert actions to complete all the necessary steps!
Who would design a “release-the-monsters” feature as a single-button operation?!
But at this moment, Bjorn had no intention of investigating the origins of these two strange intruders. Clutching his precious “ticket to freedom,” he cursed himself for wasting precious escape time being shocked and frozen.
Faster! Run faster!
If the Doomsday Seed entered its second growth phase, it would release toxic gas!
He sprinted through the wide office corridors, past once-beloved break rooms and kitchens, the lights above flickering out one by one as darkness chased him from behind.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that something—or someone—was watching him from the shadows behind partially closed doors...
The ground stabilized somewhat as he entered the tunnel-like section of the facility, its foundation resting securely on thick layers of earth, immune to collapse.
The heavy exit gate loomed closer. Bjorn practically slammed into it, prying open the emergency switch cover to reveal the keypad.
Password…
Password…
Damn it, stop trembling!
Ever since those two unexpected individuals appeared, Bjorn’s carefully constructed psychological defenses, built on layers of complex schemes, had crumbled. Like walking a tightrope without proper balance, he suddenly realized he wasn’t cut out for such high-stakes acrobatics. The abyss below yawned wider than ever, and the finish line seemed impossibly distant.
Paranoia gnawed at him. Stray strands of hair tickled the back of his neck, sending chills down his spine. He kept glancing nervously at doors he swore were occupied.
How much time was left?
How many minutes until MTF arrived?
Where had that cursed plant spread to now?
His body refused to cooperate. Clutching the suitcase tightly, he couldn’t replicate his earlier trick of steadying his hand. His thumb jittered across the physical keys, accidentally pressing the wrong digit.
The keypad rimmed red.
[Incorrect password. Two attempts remaining.]
Two more tries. No problem. Just re-enter it—
3...6...
Suddenly, a shadow lunged toward Bjorn, reaching for the keypad.
“I’ll do it!”
“Get away! If you want to die, don’t drag me down with you!”
Bjorn nearly jumped out of his skin. Unaware of his internal turmoil, Robin assumed his reaction stemmed from panic and used her shoulder to try pushing him aside.
In the scuffle, Robin accidentally bumped into the keypad, pressing random digits.
[Incorrect password. One attempt remaining.]
“I know the code! Stop interfering!”
“What does a temp worker like you know?!”
Bjorn shoved her roughly to the ground and threw himself onto the keypad.
Anger steadied his trembling hands.
[Password accepted.]
[Please stand clear of the gate.]
With a rumble, the massive door began to rise slowly, allowing slivers of outside light to seep through. The glow illuminated Robin’s face as she lay sprawled near the threshold.
The female engineer saw an upward slope leading outside, crowned by a blood-red sunset.
A fresh breeze caressed Robin’s face, washing away her fatigue and pain with a surge of hope.
It was the outside world.
Finally free, Bjorn eagerly crouched low, waiting for the gate to rise enough for him to slip through.
“Robin!”
Ray’s shout echoed from behind. The mechanical hum of the gate drowned most of his words, leaving only a piercing cry:
“Run—!”
“The door’s open! Hurry!” Robin called back, turning her head to look behind her.
Both Robin and Bjorn froze simultaneously, staring blankly at the scene unfolding inside and outside the facility.
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