Doomsday Spiritual Artifact Master

Chapter 8 – F177 District (8)

◎Goodbye my home. (Novice Village Completed)◎

Song Ke stood in front of a folding table, exchanging glances with the tall figure in military attire. On the table sat that burnt and short-circuited black box. She subtly pushed it forward to convey her innocence.

The tall figure glanced at the charred mess of wires and circuits, then back at her. Suddenly, he exclaimed, “Oh, wow.”

Song Ke’s nerves were on edge. She quickly waved her hands and shook her head, saying, “N-No, it’s not me!”

“Yeah yeah, not you,” the tall figure beamed at her with a brilliant smile, then turned to report, “Captain! The detector’s busted!”

The stern captain approached, bending down to inspect. The ventilation panel of the black box was still emitting smoke. He pressed a button, the indicator light blinked twice, and then went out. He looked hopelessly at it, and then raised his gaze to Song Ke, narrowing his eyes as he noticed her hands.

“It really wasn’t me, it malfunctioned all on its own!” Song Ke continued to explain. She hadn’t done anything, and if these two asked her for money, what would she do?

“Show me your hand,” the captain’s voice was cold.

Song Ke obediently extended her open palm. Her hands were wrapped in white bandages, starting from her knuckles, winding around her wrists, forearms, and elbows, disappearing under her T-shirt sleeves. Except for her fingers, no skin was visible.

“Unwrap the bandages,” the man ordered, each word pronounced deliberately.

Song Ke hesitated for a moment, then slowly unwound the layers of bandages. The delicate palm of her hand had a few deflated blisters, and there were a few shallow scrapes on her arm. They looked somewhat long but not very deep, and they had already scabbed over.

“Accidental scratches,” she explained.

The man didn’t respond immediately. He just looked at Song Ke with a stern expression, his gaze fixated on her hand. The young girl before him had bright eyes and moist pupils, occasionally darting towards the black box, appearing worried about having to pay money.

Though they were just ordinary scrapes that seemed perfectly normal and lacked any signs of mutation, the captain seemed lost in thought, remaining silent, his gaze seemingly trying to burn a hole through Song Ke.

The tall figure beside them couldn’t stand it any longer, “Come on, Captain, don’t scare the girl. Look at her, she’s so nervous that she’s stuttering. Hahaha!”

Song Ke thought to herself, no need to worry, she was a stutterer to begin with.

“Have you awakened your ability?” the man suddenly asked, catching her off guard. His voice was cold and rigid, as if it had been honed by grinding against stones for a long time.

Song Ke didn’t reply, her face displaying just the right amount of confusion.

She didn’t want to expose the secret of her ability, at least not right now. After what happened with Old Cheng, her guard had become even heavier. These people were not only strangers, but they were also fellow ability users like her. She couldn’t trust them; if things turned violent, it could become troublesome.

The tall figure muttered, observing Song Ke from head to toe, “I don’t think so. Look at her delicate arms and legs. Doesn’t quite fit…”

A few burly men carrying the tightly wrapped Xu Xing passed by swiftly, boarding the luxury compartment of the starship. The tall figure’s voice grew fainter and he awkwardly touched his nose, clearly reminded of how badly they had been dealt with by Xu Xing, who had similarly “delicate arms and legs.”

The man paid no attention to the tall figure’s muttering and pointed out directly, “You saved that mutant.”

A shiver ran down Song Ke’s spine. She quickly started thinking. Did he see it? How much did he see? Her action of turning the piece of wood into a shield had been discreet, and she had retracted it after blocking the ice shards. How did he manage to notice while he was still engaged in battle?

“Mutants all eventually turn into zombies, without exception. Saving them serves no purpose.”

The man’s cold attitude was like a needle, pricking Song Ke. Yet, she stubbornly explained, “They, they aren’t zombies yet.”

At least when she saved them, Aunt Qing and Xiao Bao hadn’t turned into zombies yet. They shouldn’t be treated like monsters.

The man remained non-committal, “It’s just a matter of time.”

Song Ke fell silent for a moment. She couldn’t argue.

Uncertain why the captain was being particularly stern with the young girl, An Qiwen tried to diffuse the tension, “Miss, don’t be so nervous. We mean no harm. We’re from the Azure Phoenix Army, the 11th Battalion of the Azure Phoenix. I’m An Qiwen, and this is our captain, Wu Juemin.”

He turned his right palm upward, and faint electric arcs coalesced into a ball in his hand, “If you have awakened an ability too, you can join us. See, the cabin in front is empty.” He gestured towards the luxurious compartment of the starship.

Song Ke stared at the lightning ball in his palm, pursing her lips, “No, I… I don’t have an ability.”

“If not, then stay at the back,” Wu Juemin withdrew his gaze and walked away briskly.

An Qiwen followed him and glanced back at Song Ke, who was about to enter the regular cabin.

“Captain, are you still suspicious of her having an ability? Isn’t it unlikely? I’ve even mentioned the name of Azure Phoenix. If she really has an ability, wouldn’t it be safer for her to come with us? No need to hide anything. She’s probably just an ordinary person.”

Wu Juemin’s tone was cold, “Just suspicious, better if she doesn’t.”

Wu Juemin had heightened senses, even more so after awakening his ability. During a recent teleportation, he had sensed a strange and intense energy fluctuation, fleeting though it was. At that moment, only Song Ke and two mutants were in that direction.

Although the detector was broken, he could have detained her until they found a place for testing. But their squad had an urgent mission; they couldn’t afford to waste time here. She was just a suspected ability user and wouldn’t cause much trouble. If she denied it, so be it.

Furthermore, someone who disregarded orders to save mutants was inherently at odds with the values of Azure Phoenix.

*

In the regular cabin of the starship…

Passengers here were either numb or cautious. When Song Ke entered, she didn’t draw much attention. Scanning the area, she noticed several rows of empty seats in the back. She lowered her head and took a seat in the corner.

Not long after, the engines started, the starship accelerated, and it set forth into the boundless night.

This was a low-orbit starship with openable windows. Passengers in the front seats had cracked their windows open, allowing the stifling late summer evening breeze to blow in, carrying a gloomy and humid atmosphere. An air of melancholy hung over every person inside the vehicle, and Song Ke heard a few low and hoarse sobbing sounds.

Everyone’s hearts were enveloped in unspeakable shadows.

Far from their homeland, the future was uncertain. No one knew if they would survive or for how long.

Song Ke looked out of the window. The mist had receded, and there was no moon tonight. The sea was pitch black, and the faint lights of the isolated islands gradually sank, melding into the darkness of the night. This also meant that District 177 was getting farther and farther away from her.

Goodbye, my home.

Song Ke bid her silent farewell in her heart.

About an hour after the starship had departed, Xu Weiguo seemed to have regained his spirit and came back to life.

He fumbled to stand up from his seat and skillfully made his way to the front where the active-duty soldiers were stationed. Apparently, he realized that his money manipulation ability was no longer effective. He took out a pack of premium cigarettes and approached one of the soldiers with a friendly tone:

“Hey, buddy, let me ask you something. Where’s this starship headed?”

The soldier accepted the cigarette, rubbed it a couple of times, sniffed it, and then pushed it back without lighting it, saying, “The nearby D-class city.”

Xu Weiguo’s hand holding the cigarette box trembled twice, and his voice dropped low, “D-class?! Why is it a D-class? Aren’t we going north… to the base??”

The soldier turned his head, gave Xu Weiguo a calculating look that was neither a smile nor a frown, and didn’t directly respond, “It’s just D-class. We’re relocating to a nearby D-class city for now. The next batch of rescue teams won’t arrive for another two days. After that, we’ll take you to the nearest emergency shelter.”

Xu Weiguo’s expression turned grim. He leaned in and seemed to say something to the soldier, his emotions appearing slightly agitated. However, the soldier’s attitude remained cold and unyielding. He shook his head at Xu Weiguo and repeated, “I don’t know. Follow the orders from above, stick to the protocol.”

Most of the people on the vehicle weren’t in the mood to sleep. As soon as Xu Weiguo returned to his seat with a dark expression, many surrounded him to inquire about the information.

“Mr. Xu, you’re resourceful. I’d like to ask, where are we headed?”

“Where else can we go? We’re just waiting to die somewhere else!”

“Weren’t the soldiers supposed to evacuate us? Take us to a safe place?”

“Do you actually believe that? Is a safe place that easy to find? For people like us, it’s all up to fate!”

Although he said “it’s all up to fate,” his expression was clenched and full of resentment and sarcasm.

“Mr. Xu, what do you mean by that? Do you have some insider information?” an anxious middle-aged man asked.

Xu Weiguo stared intently at the person who spoke, “Do you think the apocalypse just came out of nowhere?”

“Aren’t they saying it’s due to solar activity?”

“Nonsense!” Xu Weiguo’s voice trembled, and he sounded deeply resentful, “So many emergency shelters, so many ability users. Could it all have been arranged in just two or three days? Let me tell you all, they knew about this long ago! Those people knew long ago! And now, the apocalypse has finally arrived. The ability users have become superior beings, while we ordinary folks are just disposable lives, mere puppets for them. Eventually, we’ll all turn into zombies!”

Blue light flickered in Song Ke’s palm, a slender swallowtail dart dancing nimbly between her fingers. The sharp blade brushed against her delicate skin, yet it moved with a grace reminiscent of a child’s toy. Upon hearing Xu Weiguo’s words about “ability users being superior beings and ordinary people being disposable lives,” the swallowtail dart spun in a beautiful arc, radiating a chilling coldness.

The middle-aged man who was the first to speak was berated by him, and his face turned sour, “Mr. Xu, it’s true we’re just disposable lives. As long as we survive, it doesn’t matter where we go,” a trace of disdain appeared in his eyes, “but isn’t your son an ability user? Why don’t you have a way out?”

Xu Weiguo’s eyes lit up, as if he had grasped onto a lifeline. He couldn’t listen to anyone else’s words anymore, muttering to himself, “Right! I have a son, my son is an ability user!”

The atmosphere in the vehicle, once again, fell into a deep depression after Xu Weiguo’s inquiries. Some stared at the partitioned luxury cabin in a daze, while others softly discussed how abilities came about and why they hadn’t been so fortunate. Yet, nobody could find a reasonable explanation, nor the courage to question the armed soldiers at the front.

…

Around four in the morning, the starship came to a silent stop.

At this moment, most of the passengers in the regular cabin were asleep. The few who remained were closing their eyes with evident exhaustion. The subtle mechanical sounds of movement were easily overlooked, but suddenly, Song Ke opened her eyes, rousing from a light doze.

She opened the window, stepped onto the window ledge, like a agile gecko, and clung to the window frame as she bent down and slipped out. In a few moves, she climbed onto the top of the starship. Through the dim morning light, she saw that the starship was actually separating automatically! The luxurious cabin housing the ability users reconfigured itself into a separate small aircraft in a matter of seconds. It then switched tracks and headed in a different direction, parting ways with them.

Song Ke wasn’t foolish enough to shout and create a commotion. She stood on top of the starship, watching as the other aircraft vanished into the distance. She then observed her surroundings and was soon taken aback—right in the city center, a familiar landmark building caught her eye.

The nearby D-class city? It turned out to be here.

As dawn broke, a civilian starship silently entered a food factory warehouse on the outskirts of Hua City (D99 District), a suburban area.

This rectangular warehouse occupied an area of about 500 square meters and had been converted into a temporary shelter. Three sides of the walls were sealed, with only a single entrance in the south. A group of armed Alliance soldiers patrolled the entrance, and sentry posts extended out two kilometers away. Surface-wise, the security measures were nearly impeccable.

All the passengers from the starship disembarked, queued up for inspection, and entered the warehouse like a silent herd of sheep. Song Ke hung at the back of the line, her footsteps gradually slowing, and she started to create distance from the front.

While this place appeared safe, it likely came with limitations on movement. Once inside, it would be difficult to get out. Song Ke never fully entrusted her safety to others; she had a different plan since earlier.

Taking advantage of several soldiers moving up front to maintain order, she flashed into a nearby alleyway.

**TN

Swallow Tail Flying Knives, also known as Swallow Tail Darts, are traditional Chinese throwing weapons that date to the Northern Song Dynasty (960-1279).