183: New address.

The three men on the ground were still groaning and rolling in pain, but Shen Mingyuan ignored these sounds.

He walked straight toward the wall he had noticed earlier, where there were several old-fashioned knife switches and a more modern-looking electrical box.

He flipped several switches in succession and then checked the electrical box—there was no reaction, only dead silence.

The light he had initially destroyed to sneak in seemed to have unexpectedly caused a complete failure of the circuits in this area. No matter; darkness remained his ally for the moment.

He walked back to one of the captives, ignoring the sudden intensification of the man's spasms due to fear, and took a high-intensity tactical flashlight from his waist, clicking it on.

A bright beam of light pierced the darkness, cutting through the murky air of the warehouse.

Shen Mingyuan began a systematic search. The light swept over stacks of cargo crates, most of which bore ordinary logistics labels.

But his goal was clear, and he soon stopped before a locked iron cabinet on the inner side. The lock was melted through under the slight hum of the "twin stars" muzzles. The cabinet doors opened to reveal not goods, but stacks of document folders and ledgers.

He flipped through them quickly. Under the flashlight's beam, the contents on the paper made his heart turn cold:

· "Special Materials Reception and Elementary Processing Records": Cold tables detailing dates, serial numbers, gender, approximate age, "Health Status Assessment," and "Preliminary Emotional Stability Rating."

Along with corresponding "Recommended Elementary Processing Directions"—some were marked with "Pre-treatment Protocol No. 07," while others were "Direct Transfer to 'The Nursery'" or "Suitable for 'Basic Tolerance' Testing." There were no names, only numbers and objectified descriptions.

· "Consumables and Equipment Procurement Flow": A list of purchases for various medical instruments, chemical reagents, and special containers, involving significant amounts of money. Payment methods were mostly cash or transferred through several shell companies.

· "Relationship Network Maintenance and Resource Expansion Minutes": This part was more like a black ledger. It recorded summaries of private scandals, economic loopholes, and even evidence of suspected illegal acts of some local businessmen and minor officials. Next to these were notes on the "Level of Pressure Applicable," "Potential Value Assessment," and "Best Contact Method (Money/Coercion)."

· "Directional Delivery Nodes and Handover Procedures": Finally, he turned to the most critical page. On it was a clear address:

"South Suburbs, Old Provincial Road 327, Abandoned Maintenance Station Site, Blue Iron Warehouse on the East Side.

Every Thursday and Sunday, 20:00-22:00, receive 'Special Equipment' and 'Packaged Consumables.' Handover code: 'The rainy season has come early,' Response: 'The water pump is ready.' Receiver picks up personally, leave no trace."

The address did not point directly to the laboratory, but rather to a reception point.

But Shen Mingyuan immediately understood that this was very close to the truth.

He had seen this pattern before—in the Zhou Zihui incident, the abandoned stronghold at Wild Fox Ridge was the same. Items related to the experiments inevitably went through layers of transit before finally arriving at the true core "Laboratory."

This maintenance station warehouse was the next key node that could be traced.

"The outskirts again..." he muttered to himself, thinking of the mine shafts and silence of Wild Fox Ridge. These mad researchers seemed to always prefer places far from human habitation.

He pulled out his phone, brought up the camera, and took clear photos of this "Directional Delivery Nodes and Handover Procedures" along with pages of other key evidence.

Having done this, he walked over to a captive who had been shot in the leg but was still conscious, picked up the phone the man had dropped, and unlocked it with his fingerprint.

He dialed the police again:

"Hongli Storage Area, Chengxin Freight Transit Warehouse. There are multiple people here with gunshot wounds, possibly involving illegal detention and human trafficking, and a large amount of physical evidence on-site. Send people quickly, and remember to call an ambulance."

Concise and to the point, he directed the police's attention back to this node of evil and hinted at deeper crimes. Reporting the crime using the enemy's phone was the cleanest way to handle it.

He hung up and threw the phone back on the ground. He no longer looked at anything in the warehouse, including the groaning captives and scattered evidence.

Shen Mingyuan turned off the flashlight and tossed it aside. He took one last look at the situation inside and outside the warehouse through thermal vision—no new heat sources were approaching.

He quickly climbed back out through the same high window he had entered from, his figure merging into the night as he moved away from the area even faster than he had come.

He didn't return directly to the hotel, but stopped in the shadows of a quiet alley two blocks away. There were no cameras here.

Leaning against the cold brick wall, he took a deep breath and pressed his fingertip against the crimson orb on his left wrist armband.

A slight tingling sensation, as if biomass were disintegrating, flowed through his body. The matte black armor began to shatter from the edges into countless tiny black points of light, quickly dissipating into the air to reveal the ordinary dark casual clothes beneath.

Almost simultaneously, an extreme sense of weakness and hunger, as if his bone marrow were being hollowed out, suddenly seized him! His vision went dark in waves, and his legs felt weak; he had to lean heavily against the wall to keep from kneeling over. Cold sweat instantly soaked his undershirt, and his heart pounded in his chest as if he had just finished a marathon.

He gritted his teeth, resisting this familiar price that he could never fully adapt to. After resting for about two or three minutes until the black fog before his eyes cleared and his breathing steadied slightly, he managed to stand straight. He carefully straightened his somewhat messy clothes, confirming there were no bloodstains or other suspicious marks on him.

Then, like any ordinary guest returning late, he walked out of the alley with a slightly heavy but natural gait, crossed the street, entered the hotel lobby, gave a slight nod to the staff on duty, and swiped his card to go upstairs.

Back in his room, he locked the door and drew the curtains. He used almost the last of his strength to walk to the bedside and threw himself onto the soft mattress, closing his eyes to pant for a moment.

An intense hunger, like his stomach was burning, drove him to crawl back up. He picked up the hotel's internal phone and dialed room service: "...Yes, room number ***. Two orders of beef fried rice, one fried chicken set, plus a fruit salad and a bottle of sports drink. Yes, right now, thank you."

Hanging up the phone, he slumped in the chair, staring at the ceiling. His mind quickly replayed everything from tonight: Wei Ziqing's grief, the slaughter at the transit station, those cold documents, and that address pointing to the abandoned maintenance station in the suburbs... His body was extremely exhausted, but his thoughts were exceptionally clear. A deeper, darker line had gradually emerged before him. What he needed urgently now was food, rest, and a decision on how to continue hunting along this line.

A night of deep sleep and a large amount of high-calorie food brought Shen Mingyuan back from the brink of overexertion.

When the morning sunlight spilled into the room through the gaps in the curtains, he had already finished washing up and was sitting at the table. Spread out before him were the photos of the documents he had taken last night, especially the "Directional Delivery Nodes and Handover Procedures."

Tapping his fingertips lightly on the table, he fell into deep thought. Should he go in disguised as an "ordinary buyer" or a "delivery person"? The thought was dismissed as soon as it surfaced; the risk was too high.

The other side would certainly have means of identification. The code was only the most basic part; facial features, demeanor, and familiarity with internal processes could all be exposed.

Once exposed without transforming, not only would the mission fail, but his identity as "Shen Mingyuan" the lawyer would be completely revealed to Prometheus. The subsequent retaliation would be endless and would also involve Xu Lang, Wei Ziqing, and even his parents far away in his hometown.

He needed power, he needed that layer of "armor" that absolutely isolated his identity, and the superhuman senses and combat strength that came with it.

Directly using the shadow Incarnation to launch a forceful attack or conduct stealth reconnaissance on that abandoned maintenance station was the safest and most controllable choice at the moment. Although doing so would almost certainly alert the other side that an unidentified Evolver or hostile force was investigating, at least the person "Shen Mingyuan" would not be exposed.

The other side would only pursue a mysterious Armored Man, which bought him precious time and room to maneuver.

Beating the grass to startle the snake? Perhaps. But a startled snake might also reveal more flaws in its panic, which was better than risking himself with no way out.

"The primary goal is to confirm the nature of that location, obtain more clues pointing to the laboratory or high-level personnel, and ideally capture someone in the know.

Secondly, to assess the defensive strength of that stronghold and the level of Prometheus's activity in this area."

Shen Mingyuan clarified his goals in his mind.

He checked his belongings, specifically confirming that the "twin stars" were fully charged; that gentle and stable pulsation was reassuring.

He also made an encrypted backup of the photographed evidence. Then, he contacted Xu Lang and Wei Ziqing, reassuring them with brief and cautious words, telling them he was following up on clues and asking them to stay alert and not act rashly.

Having done all this, Shen Mingyuan drove out of the city, heading toward Old Provincial Road 327 in the South Suburbs.

He didn't choose the nighttime. While daytime increased the risk of being accidentally spotted, it also reduced the likelihood of the other side being on high alert outside of the scheduled times. Moreover, the daytime environment was more conducive for him to observe the terrain and plan his entry and exit routes.

As the car moved away from the hustle and bustle of the city, the scenery outside the window gradually became desolate.

Along the old provincial road were mostly abandoned or semi-abandoned factories, scattered farmland, and dense forests. According to the navigation, he turned off the main road one intersection early, hid his car in an open space behind a forest, and approached the target area on foot.