5: Chapter 5 Green Pus and Number

The mist was yellowish-green, like a pot of overcooked chemical waste, clinging thickly to the rusted metal surfaces. Lin Yuan lay behind a gas pipeline half a meter in diameter, yellowish-green pus seeping from the wound on his left arm, eerily echoing the surroundings. The bandage was soaked, emitting a sweet, putrid smell. Radiation infection mixed with anaerobic bacteria; wasteland medicine was blunt: either endure it, or rot, or worse, rot while conscious.

He gritted his molars, suppressing the stinging pain, and focused on tactical calculations. The southeast wind was steady at two meters per second. The smell of the methane pocket drifted northwest, perfectly masking their tracks. At the pipeline intersection, the methane concentration had reached the critical point for deflagration; a single spark could create an instantaneous vacuum and a high-temperature fireball five meters in diameter. Three enemies, standard triangular formation, five meters apart. Judging by their stride and weapon-holding angles, they had received basic military training; they weren't ordinary bandits.

"My Lord," Rat Eye whispered from behind, his voice so low it was almost swallowed by the bubbling of the swamp, "The third mound on the left is hollow; step on it and you'll sink to your waist. I tried it yesterday and almost didn't get out."

Lin Yuan tapped the pipeline twice with his finger, a dull thud signaling his assent. Since the flare last night, the street urchin's attitude had subtly shifted from pure fear to active cooperation after calculation. He saw that Lin Yuan wanted live captives this time, not corpses, and his own value had upgraded from a "disposable lure" to a "reusable asset." Such a transformation was more precious than diamonds in the wasteland, and also more dangerous.

"Are you sure?" Lin Yuan asked, his gaze still fixed on the metallic clanging sounds coming from the mist.

"I'm fast, My Lord. You want live captives, right?" Rat Eye's voice held a probing shrewdness, as if assessing the market value of goods. "Living tongues can speak; dead ones can only feed the scorpions."

Lin Yuan's mouth twitched, devoid of humor. Twelve energy shots could at most kill two people in a head-on conflict; the third would surely escape to report, drawing the main force into a hunt. Captives could verify intelligence and provide uniforms and ID cards for infiltration. This was purely tactical calculation, and also his bottom line. When killing wasn't the only option, room should be left for long-term goals.

"Go," Lin Yuan pulled a rusted metal shard from his waist, broken off the pipeline last night. "Yell twice and fall; don't overact. They have crossbows, with a range of thirty meters; you can't outrun them."

Rat Eye took the metal shard as carefully as if it were a gold coin, then silently slipped into the mist, his small figure quickly blending with the yellowish-green background. Lin Yuan crawled along the pipeline, his movements slow and steady, avoiding the blue-green radiation moss. The glowing spots were breeding grounds for mutated fungi; touching them would release hallucinogenic spores. System warnings flickered at the edge of his vision: [Detecting 37% fusion of Xeno gene with local organisms... Warning: Tyranids gene fragments are abnormally recombining with local arthropods...]

He shook off the thought, forcing himself to focus on the trap. The location of the methane pocket, wind direction, ignition point, and retreat route were all modeled in his mind. The pain in his left arm became background noise, like the static from a broken radio.

Footsteps approached. The Anvil Gang patrol wore grayish-brown uniforms, the anvil and hammer emblem on their chests so grimy they were black, their original color indistinguishable. Leading them was a burly man with a scar on his face, a hideous knife scar running from his eyebrow to his chin on his left cheek. He carried a modified pump-action shotgun, its barrel sawed short, suitable for close-quarters killing. His eyes were like a hawk's, constantly scanning the mist for anomalies. The other two fanned out, one holding a compound crossbow, the other a hissing gasoline chainsaw, dried flesh still clinging to its teeth.

Scarface suddenly raised his hand, fist clenched. The entire team instantly froze, demonstrating good discipline. He sniffed the air, his brows furrowed: "The smell's wrong. Too much methane, and a smell of blood... fresh, not dead things from the mud."

Lin Yuan's finger closed on the trigger; the laser gun's energy display showed 12% in his vision. This guy had battlefield intuition, but it was too late. The trap was set, just waiting for the prey to take the final half-step.

"Ah! Help! Something's chasing me!" Rat Eye's scream came from behind the mound thirty meters to the left, a shrill sound filled with genuine fear. The kid was a good actor, or rather, his wasteland survival instincts taught him how to feign despair.

Scarface turned towards the sound, his shotgun slightly raised: "Left side, go check, be careful of traps. It might be a mutated beast hunting."

The crossbowman nodded, moving in a crouch, his footsteps carefully avoiding the glowing moss. As he passed the pipeline intersection, he stood precisely at the center of the methane pocket. Lin Yuan took a deep breath and lit the tinder in his hand. It was an igniter made from a mixture of mutated bat guano and waste engine oil, precisely thrown towards the gas seeping from the pipeline crack.

Boom!

Yellowish-green flames instantly shot up, like an angry earth dragon engulfing the crossbowman. High temperature and oxygen deprivation acted simultaneously; it wasn't even an explosion, but a silent combustion. The crossbowman screamed, his voice swallowed by the roar of the flames. He rolled on the ground, but the more he rolled, the fiercer the fire grew, his uniform becoming perfect fuel. The chainsaw wielder was knocked over by the shockwave, the back of his head hitting the pipeline hard, his gasoline chainsaw flying from his grip, cutting into the mud and splashing black mud and water. Scarface reacted extremely fast, immediately dropping to the ground, but Lin Yuan had already stood up, his laser gun steadily pointed at him. Energy display: 9%.

"Take your hand off the trigger, stand up slowly." Lin Yuan stepped forward, kicking away the shotgun, then following up with a butt-stock strike to Scarface's temple. The burly man grunted, collapsing to the ground, unconscious, his eyes retaining a flash of realization and shock at the ARK-07 designation on Lin Yuan's chest before he passed out.

Rat Eye crawled out of the mist, his face covered in mud, but his eyes were frighteningly bright: "Solved? How many died?"

"Two alive, one burned, won't die for now." Lin Yuan tore off the ID tag from Scarface's neck: Anvil Gang - Outer Patrol Unit - Grade C. The other two were also retrieved from the unconscious chainsaw wielder and tucked into his personal pocket.

"Tie them with a dead knot, hands behind their backs, as tight as possible." He tossed Rat Eye a roll of plastic insulation rope torn from the pipeline. "Playing dead and escaping are mandatory courses in the wasteland; don't let them teach you a lesson."

Rat Eye's eyes were shrewd as he took the rope, quickly re-evaluating the value of this deal. "You could have killed them just now," he said, lowering his head to tighten the rope with practiced movements. "Killing all three would be safer, once and for all, no one to report."

"Corpses don't talk," Lin Yuan checked the condition of the burned crossbowman, pouring some water into his mouth to prevent shock, then pressed a cold dagger against his throat. "And I have questions to ask. The Black Tower's outer perimeter, defense map, in detail."

"Go to hell, Scavenger..." The crossbowman cursed weakly, but his voice trembled.

The dagger pressed down a millimeter, a bead of blood seeping out: "The next millimeter is your windpipe. Defense map, in exchange for your life. I know the Anvil Gang's rules; captives either confess or die, no middle option. But I'm different; I can let you live, as long as you're worth the price."

The wavering in the crossbowman's eyes spread like ripples. The cruel logic of the wasteland took effect at this moment: survival trumped loyalty, especially for an outer Grade C member. "The first... abandoned toll station... has a hidden sentry in the tower... The second is a high-voltage power tower, electrified, only powered down between 2 AM and 3 AM for fuse replacement... The third is the subway entrance... with heavy machine guns... changing shifts at 2 AM..."

Lin Yuan turned to the awakened Scarface, holding up the designation plate left by his grandfather, letting the words "ARK-07 Chief Engineer Lin Weiguo" reflect in the mist: "Do you recognize this?"

Scarface's pupils contracted violently, as if he had seen a ghost: "Lin Weiguo's grandson... Scavenger... The ARK search team designation in the gang. Martin has been looking for decades, the ARK-07 activation key... it's in your hands."

Lin Yuan's fingers tightened. Direct conflict, an inevitable inheritance struggle.

"Is the defense map real?" The laser gun's energy display was at the edge of his vision: 6%.

"Real. The third line of defense has heavy machine guns, 7.62 caliber, capable of tearing apart light combat vehicles... But if you have that designation plate, maybe you can take the maintenance tunnel..."

"Anything else?"

Scarface suddenly looked into the depths of the swamp, where a dull vibration emanated, like the heartbeat of some giant creature, or the roar of ancient machinery. The system exploded with a blood-red warning: [Detecting WAAAGH! energy residue, Ork gene contamination confirmed. Warning: Unknown biological signal approaching...]

Lin Yuan's temples throbbed, hallucinations surging like a tide. In that instant, he saw a golden giant standing in the mist, its power armor covered in battle scars, a low voice vibrating directly on his cerebral cortex: "gene-seed... approaching... seeking... successor..."

He bit his tongue, the metallic taste pulling him back to reality, but a golden afterimage still lingered at the edge of his vision. This was the price of 0.5% Imperial Gaze, illusions eroding the boundary between reality and fantasy. "You are valuable; I won't kill you for now. But if the defense map is false, I'll tie you to the gas pipeline and let mutated beasts slowly gnaw at you."

Rat Eye watched Lin Yuan bandage the captive's burns, watched him toss a rusted dagger, confiscated from the chainsaw wielder, to him.

"Take it. For self-defense, and against me." Lin Yuan's voice was calm.

Rat Eye caught the dagger, his fingers tightening on the hilt. The relationship had completely changed. From pure deterrent reliance, it shifted to a fragile balance based on mutual utility, even carrying a hint of inexplicable confusion.

"I won't betray... not this time..." Rat Eye whispered, more like convincing himself.

"Of course you will," Lin Yuan had already begun stripping off the relatively intact uniform, "when the cost is lower than the gain, you will. But now the cost is too high; I'm more useful to you alive than dead. Strip the uniforms; we need to infiltrate. A Grade C identity means an outer perimeter pass, but it also means you can be sacrificed at any time."

Lin Yuan checked his left arm; green pus had already soaked through the temporary bandage, and a spiderweb of red streaks was spreading towards his elbow, like a greedy net. He needed antibiotics, urgently. Three uniforms were laid on the ground; he chose the relatively clean one and put it on, though it still carried radiation stains and sweat. The Grade C ID card hung around his neck, the cold metal against his chest.

Scarface watched his movements, then suddenly laughed, his voice hoarse: "You're not like your grandfather. Lin Weiguo was too soft, wanted to save everyone, and ended up unable to save himself. Martin took some keys from him... some keys that could open real treasures."

Lin Yuan pointed his laser gun at his forehead, his finger tightening on the trigger. Energy: 6%, enough for one shot.

"What keys?"

"You'll know when you enter the Black Tower's main control room. If you can survive until then, if you can get past the Scavengers' blockade."

The mist grew thicker, a yellowish-green curtain obscuring everything ten meters away. Lin Yuan looked into the depths of the swamp, where strange green energy pulses occasionally flickered, like the breath of some giant beast. He knew he was walking into a net woven from his grandfather's past, the Anvil Gang's greed, Warhammer's corruption, and the wasteland's cruel laws.

"Go. You lead the way, twenty meters ahead. If the defense map is fake, you'll be the first to take a bullet. Rat Eye, stick close to me, don't fall behind."

Rat Eye followed, wearing an oversized uniform like a child in a sack, clutching the dagger tightly. In the yellowish-green mist, golden eyes seemed to look down from above, whispers carried on the wind:

"gene-seed... approaching... trial... about to begin..."