Chapter Fifteen: Base Seventy-Two

Beep, beep, beep—a series of sounds, reminiscent of a heart monitor, echoed in the air.

"Slave number twenty-eight has successfully completed the 2020 world mission, cleared two awakened data beings, energy rewards have been distributed, Griffith's special serum has been injected, memory purge protocol for this world is now initiated, countdown begins at five seconds..."

So noisy!

Could it be a critical patient in the emergency room? No, I’m no longer a doctor. Am I still in prison? Was everything I just experienced only a dream?

Zhou Yi’s mind was awash with confusion. He struggled to open his eyes, and a wave of dizziness swept over him. He wanted to move, but his body was entirely unresponsive—only his eyes could shift.

He looked around.

It was an empty room, its center crowded with unfamiliar machines, their displays filled with numbers that flickered and leapt. There were no windows, no doors; the ceiling seemed fused with the floor and walls, like a half-shell pressed upside down onto the ground.

He lay on an elevated stainless steel bed, a white cloth draped halfway across his abdomen. Besides that, his body was completely exposed, save for a few white discs attached to his hands, feet, and chest, each connected by wires to the machines. A cold sensation pressed against his back.

This wasn’t a heart monitor, nor any rescue equipment. It looked unmistakably like a laboratory, and at this moment, Zhou Yi was nothing more than a lab rat awaiting dissection.

Panic seized him.

Images flashed before his eyes: the killing of Jennifer and Gore, and, of course, Sophia’s final blow directed at him. So, it hadn’t been a dream.

Where was he?

His mind was clearing, but his limbs remained beyond his control. This was a sealed space, with neither door nor window—how could he escape, even if he managed to get down?

Revenge had been served; death held no fear. What else was there to worry about? With this thought, Zhou Yi quieted himself.

Just then, a chime sounded, and a door appeared in the previously seamless wall.

A silver-haired man sat in a wheelchair, rolling into view, followed by a black-haired woman dressed in red.

Zhou Yi was startled.

He quickly shut his eyes.

Sophia! It was Sophia!

Her attire was reminiscent of a warrior from the future. The scene was familiar; he remembered it from the recollections at Sophia’s home. Clearly, he had seen her like this before.

The whir of the electric wheelchair, accompanied by the tapping of high heels on the floor, drew closer.

The man in the wheelchair laughed, the empty room amplifying the sound with an eerie echo. Though he laughed, there was a chilling undertone that made Zhou Yi’s skin crawl.

"Heh, who would have thought slave twenty-eight would succeed? How much energy did this mission earn?"

Zhou Yi was surprised. The man spoke Chinese with perfect pronunciation, yet from his brief glance, the silver-haired man looked distinctly Western.

Was this some experimental facility, seeking to harvest organs?

But what was the meaning of slave twenty-eight?

"This time, our base was allocated 2,800 units of energy. It should have transferred to you now. This amount should be enough for you to advance from level two to level three, right?"

The man in the wheelchair continued to smile. Zhou Yi instinctively cracked his eyelids open a sliver.

The two stood beside him. The wheelchair-bound man lifted the blanket covering his legs and rolled up his trousers, revealing a pair of metallic limbs, crisscrossed with wiring.

The sight was so shocking, Zhou Yi clenched his teeth hard.

He knew that even the faintest sound might attract their attention.

Fragments of memory began to coalesce in his mind. He recalled flashes of similar scenes from his time in prison. The room, too, was not entirely unfamiliar.

He watched as the metallic legs, covered in cables, were enveloped by muscle tissue at a visible speed, then by veins and skin, as if being 3D-printed. In moments, the process was complete.

A terrifying aura swept over Zhou Yi, making him want to bow down, to kneel before the wheelchair-bound man.

Stifling.

Fear.

Panic.

Each sensation surged over him like waves. Just as Zhou Yi was about to suffocate, the aura vanished as quickly as it had appeared, as though it had never existed.

Slowly, Zhou Yi moved his gaze to the wheelchair man.

He had his eyes closed, no sign of satisfaction on his face—only a pallor, sweat beading on his brow, silver hair plastered to his cheeks. Sophia knelt on one knee before him, her graceful figure accentuated by the pose.

Clearly, the earlier oppressive aura had discomforted Sophia as well.

After a moment, the man opened his eyes and flicked the hair from his forehead.

"Rise. For now, you’ll manage the base. I need to rest for a while. As for slave twenty-eight... Not bad. No need for destruction. We’ve lost too many slaves in recent operations; find some suitable awakened to fill the ranks. Do it cleanly—don’t let the Intelligence Core sense anything amiss."

Sophia bowed her head, her right hand pressed to her chest in a gesture of humility.

"Yes, Mr. Waldner. Congratulations on advancing to level three. With this, our base’s rank will rise again. I wonder how many new worlds we’ll be assigned to oversee?"

Waldner seemed unconcerned, raising his hand slightly. Only then did Sophia stand, her lips curling with undisguised pride.

"There's no rush; everything that’s ours will come in due time. When the next mission succeeds, we’ll raise your energy level as well!"

He gestured toward Zhou Yi, continuing,

"As for the slaves, keep an eye on them—especially those chosen ones. If any show signs of rebellion, put them to sleep until I awaken and deal with them myself. With this upgrade, let’s see if base seventy-one can expand its roster. Handle the arrangements, especially the energy units—hold off on distributing them for now. Have slave twenty-eight sent to his next assignment."

Sophia, hand to chest, acknowledged the order.

She was not to escort him herself. Waldner maneuvered his wheelchair through the door. Soon, several figures entered, clad in white coveralls, transparent visors, and masks.

A surge of panic gripped Zhou Yi. Seventy-two base, energy units, slave twenty-eight, upgrades, Intelligence Core, those self-generating legs—what did it all mean?

Everything was beyond his comprehension. What kind of place was this?

He couldn’t move—only his mind was free. Escape was impossible.

Judging by their actions, they didn’t know he was conscious. Was this some organization that had helped him exact revenge, only to enslave him afterwards, forcing him to do their bidding?

No, that couldn’t be it.

What sort of organization could make mechanical legs grow muscle and skin on demand?

This was beyond mere technology.

As Zhou Yi pondered, an elderly voice spoke in English. The speaker was one of the white-clad newcomers.

"Miss Sophia, shall we begin the examination now?"

Sophia nodded slightly.

"Proceed. When I undressed slave twenty-eight just now, I found a peculiar hexagram emblem on his chest. Is it a tattoo, or a mark earned from completing the mission?"

Undressed! Undressed! Undressed!

Zhou Yi now knew that the "slave twenty-eight" Sophia referred to was himself. She had stripped him and left him here, completely exposed!

His mind was wandering when someone touched his chest.

Cold fingers rubbed at his skin, then a machine resembling an X-ray was wheeled over.

He couldn’t see what they were doing, but a large screen appeared on the previously smooth wall.

A huge black hexagram appeared—a pair of overlapping triangles, surrounded by a circle, with an eye at its center, and several magnified strands of chest hair.

Zhou Yi was stunned.

He was certain he’d never had a tattoo, nor any scar. What was this?

Meanwhile, the screen’s image zoomed in, now showing beneath the skin. He had no time to marvel at the technology, but as the base layer came into view, there was no darkening.

"Miss Sophia, this is not a tattoo. We cannot ascertain its origin. If it was acquired upon completion of the mission, it may be a reward mark. Would you like to remove it?"

Sophia shook her head, seeming unconcerned.

"Leave it for now. If our base fails to report the presence of a chosen one, it will be our negligence. The Intelligence Core will investigate, and we’ll be punished. But this matter needn’t be reported to Mr. Waldner; he needs rest after his upgrade. Send slave twenty-eight to the mission world—that’s safest."

"Understood!"

With that, the figures in protective suits surrounded Zhou Yi, attaching something to his temples. The machines began to beep.

"Beep, beep, beep—memory upload, inserting slave twenty-eight’s consciousness, transfer to the 2015 world replica, countdown begins: five... four... three..."

Zhou Yi’s mind felt as though it would explode—a flood of memories, not his own, crashed over him.

He tried to resist, but it was impossible. His eyes flew open, his whole body convulsed uncontrollably.

The movement caught the attention of those around him; Sophia leaned in.

Zhou Yi wanted to curse them.

But he couldn’t open his mouth at all. All the machines began to wail in confusion.

"What’s happening? Did slave twenty-eight wake up?"

One of the white-suited figures shook his head hastily, feigning calm as he pointed at Zhou Yi, though the tremor in his hand betrayed his anxiety.

"He hasn’t awakened. It’s likely... likely a muscular reaction to the memory upload. He can't possibly have consciousness!"

Zhou Yi wanted to rise up and tear him apart—but he couldn’t move. If he could, that man would be the first to die.

Before he could think further, a fiercer surge of pain struck, as if a whirlpool swallowed him whole. Gradually, Zhou Yi closed his eyes and lost consciousness.

"We’re in trouble, Miss Sophia. Slave twenty-eight’s consciousness was not inserted into a replica—it was the original body that was transferred. What should we do?"