Underground ninth level.
The filament had poor contact, light trembling bright and dim. A tense, thrilling chase was underway.
Atiya rushed out of the storage at her life’s fastest speed, desperately fleeing along the long corridor.
“Damn it! Kill her!”
“Emergency notice, emergency notice, someone broke into underground storage. Ninth level please cooperate immediately in capture.”
Gunshots rang behind Atiya’s ears. She quickly shrank her body to dodge bullets, but being smaller also slowed her pace significantly.
So she had to grow large again and continue running forward.
Unfortunately, the guards’ footsteps grew closer. She heard dirty curses and vicious death threats.
Her heart was about to leap from her chest—if this continued, she’d definitely be caught.
“Help! White Pharaoh! Masochist! Where are you!” Atiya screamed in terror, rampaging through the ninth level, but her voice couldn’t reach Lance and Zhan Pingchuan’s ears at all.
Just then, another team of guards ran toward her for encirclement. Atiya was scared out of her wits, braking urgently and rushing down another corridor.
“Shit, this guy can shrink—don’t lose her!”
“Don’t worry, I’m B-level, I can sense her ability!”
As bullets grew denser, Atiya had to shrink to avoid damage, but the guards were instantly upon her.
“Here! I’ll grab her!” A guard lunged at finger-sized Atiya, who quickly jumped to avoid his palm.
“Over here!” Another guard kicked over. Atiya screamed and darted between his legs.
“Damn, still running!” A guard pressed down with his body. Atiya barely avoided it, then leaped onto his back.
“Don’t move, she’s on your back!” Someone grabbed with their fist. Atiya hugged her head and rolled down.
At such close distance, guards couldn’t use guns. Atiya jumped around in the crowd, making the guards completely chaotic.
But this chaos didn’t last long. Soon guards brought flamethrowers, opening valves and spraying the ground frantically.
Atiya’s hair was singed. She had to jump away from the crowd, but immediately a net dropped down.
Atiya barely dodged, already sweating profusely with aching heart and lungs.
What to do? What to do!
Fortunately, heaven helps those who help themselves. She suddenly saw a small round hole half a finger wide in the corner—a prison ventilation shaft.
Her eyes lit up. She suddenly grew large, rushing desperately toward the hole. Reaching it, she shrank and nimbly drilled in, finally shaking off the guards.
She heard continuous cursing behind her.
But she didn’t dare linger, gritting her teeth and climbing upward with effort.
Fortunately, years of use had made the ventilation shaft rusty.
She stepped on the rust, climbing to the eighth level without much effort.
But still shaken, she didn’t stop at the eighth level, climbing up one more floor.
Emerging from the ventilation shaft, she dusted herself off, looking somewhat disgusted at the rust covering her body, and walked forward along the corner.
This was a relatively quiet corridor with bright overhead lights and densely packed prisoners on both sides.
In prisons, guards sometimes kept lights blazingly bright to torment prisoners, preventing them from getting adequate rest and keeping them in a state of chronic exhaustion.
At least everyone she saw on this level was exhausted. No one was making a fuss—prisoners just lay listlessly on the ground, occasionally letting out weak, pained groans. The air was filled with the stench of rotting, festering wounds.
“Hey, are any of you Utopians?” Atiya gripped the bars, asking at each cell door.
“Do you know where the Utopians are held?”
“Are any of you Utopians?”
Along the way, few people bothered with her inquiries. Occasionally someone would glance up, then quickly lie back down and look away.
They were simply too exhausted and miserable to have the energy to pay attention to a thumb-sized outsider.
Finally, when Atiya reached the eighteenth cell, someone answered her: “This entire corridor holds ordinary Utopians. There are some Awakened on the third level.”
The voice was very weak and somewhat hoarsely slurred. After saying this long sentence, he coughed dully, spitting up specks of blood.
The others in the same cell glanced at him slightly, seeming puzzled why he’d spend energy talking to a stranger.
“All Utopians? That’s wonderful! I’m here to rescue you!” Atiya’s eyes lit up with excitement.
But regarding her words, the Utopians in the cell only glanced indifferently before looking away and continuing to lie quietly on the ground.
Atiya was stunned. She found it incredible—how could anyone not be excited about impending freedom?
This time the same voice spoke to her again: “It’s dangerous here. Please leave quickly.”
His damaged throat continuously seeped blood that slid into his esophagus. Every word he spoke was as painful as being cut by a knife.
Atiya finally saw clearly who was talking to her.
This person wasn’t lying on the ground but leaning against the wall.
His hair obviously hadn’t been cut for many years—now it dragged long on the ground with the ends completely matted together.
From this person’s face, you could no longer see any trace of his former appearance. His face was an indescribable red, so thin it seemed it would tear at the slightest touch. The skin on his neck was completely wrinkled—the kind of wrinkles from muscle loss and lost elasticity, like a seventy-year-old man.
Atiya gripped the bars tightly, her gaze determined: “Uncle, I won’t leave. My great-uncle, my neighbor brother, and my teacher were all brought here. I must find them. And I didn’t come alone—I have friends too.”
The person paused, murmuring: “…Uncle.”
Atiya continued asking: “Uncle, do you know someone called Piati? He’s my great-uncle who’s been here thirteen years. And Rafael, my neighbor brother who’s been here seven years. My teacher was arrested last year—his name is Jerome.”
Finally, another person spoke. Eyes closed, he said flatly: “No one here can survive past five years.”
After saying this, he also coughed unbearably, curling up his body with blood at the corners of his lips, then refused to say another word.
Atiya wouldn’t accept this fact, becoming emotional: “I don’t believe it. They’ll persevere. And even if they’re dead, I need definite answers.”
“People here rarely communicate… Sorry, I don’t know… where they are either.” Only the original person was willing to talk to Atiya.
So Atiya drilled through the cell door, slowly walking to his side and growing taller: “Thank you anyway. Don’t worry—once I find them, I’ll come back to rescue you.”
With that, Atiya was about to leave.
Just then, the man suddenly reached out and grasped Atiya’s wrist. This simple action made him tremble slightly with pain—there was a bright red abrasion under his arm that still hadn’t healed.
“Their families… are they well?” he suddenly asked.
Atiya paused, looking down at the fingers gripping her. Compared to his aged neck, this person’s hands were strangely young and elastic.
She didn’t think much of it, just sighed and answered: “Not well. My grandmother begged the Tambu people daily to release my great-uncle, even giving away all our family’s possessions, but they killed my grandmother. My mother got sick with no money for treatment—she can only scavenge expired painkillers the Tambu people throw away.”
“My neighbors committed suicide together in the third year after brother was taken. They feared suffering over ten years of torment like my grandmother without seeing hope.”
“Teacher’s family is large with many children. They decided to forget him and start new lives.”
The man’s hand slowly loosened. His gaze was vacant, staring at dust floating in the air, lost in thought.
Atiya perked up: “But I always believed we could rescue them. Rafael told me people can’t escape or become numb. Even if it’s painful, we must persist, because these things are more important than life.”
The man struggled to lift the corners of his lips, seeming to smile at Atiya.
Unfortunately, his face had too much grime and his hair hung disheveled, making it hard to see clearly.
“If they’re Awakened, you could try the third level. You might find them there.”
“My great-uncle and teacher are Awakened, but neighbor brother isn’t,” Atiya said.
Finally, someone else grew impatient, speaking with a hoarse voice: “Then he’s definitely dead.”
Atiya: “What nonsense!”
“Nonsense…” The prisoner laughed dully, spitting out a mixture of blood and flesh from his mouth. “See? We were taken by radiation Awakened for experiments. He tested radiation intensity on us. Now our bodies all show different degrees of reaction—deformity, bleeding, nerve damage, skin shedding, genetic mutation… None of us will live long. Whether we get out or not doesn’t matter anymore.”
Atiya was shocked. She immediately looked at the uncle from before.
The uncle lowered his eyes slightly, tacitly acknowledging this.
“Ha…” This absurd and tragic reality made Atiya’s tears burst forth instantly. She was angry, grieved, with nowhere to vent. Her chest felt like two knives stirring inside—unable to remove or touch them, only feeling deep pain and dying sorrow.
She knew why the prison used Utopians for experiments—to release radiation on Samp Town, to catch Black Lantern Society!
Just for this, they could callously destroy an entire corridor of lives.
They truly deserved to die!
“Don’t cry. Some people weren’t radiated as severely. If treated promptly, their lives could be extended,” the man comforted.
Genetic mutations couldn’t be repaired by recovery Awakened. Even if modern medicine extended life, quality of life would probably be poor.
But he couldn’t bear to see Atiya struck by tragic reality.
“Right, even living one day is one day of hope. My friends are amazing—they’ll definitely find a way! Wait for me, I must rescue you all!” Atiya quickly wiped her tears, no longer wallowing in despair.
She still had much to do. She had to reunite with White Pharaoh and the masochist. She would preserve hope forever—even if painful, she’d never surrender to life.
Just then, deafening explosions rang out from the upper levels, and the entire prison began shaking like an earthquake.
Atiya quickly grabbed the bars to steady herself. She didn’t know who was up there, but clearly there was fierce fighting.
Suddenly—
Thunderous crashes echoed in the narrow corridor as an entire corridor across from them collapsed from the fifth floor straight down to the seventh.
Atiya stared in shock, but soon she saw the long-missed black hoods.
She perked up, quickly jumping up and running toward the opposite side: “Masochist! White Pharaoh!”
Lance and Zhan Pingchuan had lost Benbu and were troubled by the old madman lurking in the shadows.
Lance had seen Benbu glance upward before the wall disappeared, so he climbed up along the rubble and cracked walls, trying to find what Benbu had been looking at.
Unfortunately, the upper structure had already changed—the cells that originally held prisoners had become pitch-black stone walls.
Zhan Pingchuan carried the unconscious Popov on one shoulder and Adrian’s body on the other, saying gloomily: “If we can’t kill this old madman, I don’t think we’ll reach the second level.”
Adrian’s soul still hadn’t returned to his body, indicating the second level was still in a fierce battle. Obviously, the longer they delayed, the higher the danger. Without the old madman, Zhan Pingchuan would have simply drilled through the ceiling.
Lance sighed lightly: “At least we saved Popov. I wonder how Atiya and my sister are doing.”
It was then that Atiya rushed over: “Hey! Hey! I’m here!”
“Atiya?” Lance quickly turned around.
Atiya was panting heavily, words tumbling out: “Listen to me, the… the corridor across is full of Utopians, there… there are more on the third level, and I found where they hide the rare lead ore keys!”
“Where?” Lance immediately gripped her shoulders.
Atiya: “On the bottom level. I memorized the route—I can take you there!”
This news was indeed uplifting, as unlocking Mad Clown’s handcuffs was urgent. However, Lance quickly calmed down.
Even knowing the location of the rare lead ore keys wouldn’t help now, because the old madman could easily change that location.
To break the deadlock, the crucial thing was to eliminate the old madman.
As he pondered this, Zhan Pingchuan’s face suddenly changed as he shouted: “Uncle!”
Just then, blood began flowing from the corners of Adrian’s body’s lips.
—
**
(advanced chapters available on kofi)
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152