Chapter 17 Chapter 17 This is not a drill.
Under the urging red light, Elio methodically led the survivors to the elevator door. At that doorway to life, the survivors jostled and scrambled for position. One was even pushed back so hard that he nearly fell to the ground—if Elio hadn't stood there and caught his back in time, he would have definitely fallen. Before the situation could get any worse, the assassin spoke up.
“Don’t push,” Elio said. “I saw it all. If you do that again, I’ll end your chances of survival.”
The thin man shuddered, not daring to turn back. Once order was restored and the survivors entered the elevator and stood in line, he feigned composure and turned to face the elevator door. He glanced at the assassin, but he wasn't staring at him. Instead, he frowned, his gaze darting back and forth among the survivors.
What is he looking at?
The thin man thought, but soon he got the answer.
The elevator rang. The number of people entering exceeded its capacity, and the remaining three survivors were still desperately trying to squeeze in; if the young man who looked like he had killed someone had not just threatened them, the thin man might have kicked them out of the elevator.
"Overweight!" But of course he wouldn't do nothing. "Get out! Everyone, get out! We have to make room for this hero who saved us."
Amidst everyone's anxious gazes, Elio glanced at him and calmly refused, "No need to make room for me. Press 'ground' and someone will pick you up. If you're overweight, follow me up the stairs."
The survivors in the elevator breathed a sigh of relief. The survivors left behind anxiously followed Elio and ran towards the stairs.
"Follow me closely and look out for each other," Elio said. "Don't fall behind!"
The broadcast gently reminded, "Seven minutes left."
Elio pressed the headset as he ran, "Nightwing, are you there?"
"Yes," the superhero replied, slightly breathless. "I just moved the hostages at the bottom level - do you need help?"
"Great," Elio breathed a sigh of relief. "I sent a group of people up by elevator. Please look after them."
"receive!"
The sound of their reply was lost in the clatter of their footsteps as they ran up the stairs. Elio led them all the way up, stopping from time to time to wait for the survivors who were lacking in strength. But when Elio stopped to wait for the third time, he suddenly frowned.
"Five minutes left," the broadcast said.
"The footsteps sound wrong," Elio said.
He signaled the survivors behind him to stop. In the flickering lights, overlapping footsteps echoed in the escape passage.
There was someone behind them.
At Elio's signal, the survivors hid behind the fire exit as quietly as possible. Elio crept up a few steps and crouched at the corner of the stairs, waiting. Crossing footsteps hurried up the stairs. Elio peered down through the gap in the stair railing and saw a researcher in a white uniform, carrying a cardboard box, approaching them.
"…The elevator broke down at a time like this," they whispered, panting heavily. "Who usually does maintenance?"
"Who knows! You don't even care about such a deadly thing!" Another researcher was also full of complaints, turning and going upstairs without even looking. "What the hell is going on? I'm only halfway through the model and haven't had time to save it! Even if it's a drill, we should be notified in advance-"
With a clang sound.
The researcher suddenly fell silent. The cardboard box in his hands fell to the ground. He instinctively raised his hand to cover the gash in his throat, but blood gushed out, soaking his fingers and flowing down his collar.
"This isn't a drill."
The researcher looked up and saw a pair of bright eyes gazing down at him from the darkness. Those eyes had the familiar round pupils he'd been so diligently trying to recreate, the "Eagle Eyes" he'd only managed to replicate a few times. But between life and death, the researcher almost mistook them for a black panther lurking in the darkness.
A flash of red light appeared. Before the researcher collapsed, he saw that the owner of the green eyes had a pale human face.
"--assassin!"
Behind him, the frightened researcher screamed and turned to run. Behind him, Elio jumped onto the banister, turned his body, and lunged down.
The researcher who was stepped on the back slowly fell to the ground. Elio drew his hidden blade and jumped away from him, not paying attention to the researcher who rolled down.
"It's safe," he pulled open the fire door and said to the survivors, "Go quickly."
The survivors who had slipped out from behind the door hurried upwards. Intentionally or not, they stepped over the researchers on the ground, causing the documents in the cardboard boxes to slide down the stairs. Elio, about to follow, glanced over and suddenly stopped. He saw several pieces of paper gleaming with gold.
Without thinking, he reached out. The paper fluttered in the green light of the fire escape and the red light of the emergency exit. Elio stepped over the handrail, launched himself into the air, and snatched it away. Before he could unfold the paper, his heartbeat had already accelerated.
What would that be?
Elio opened the file and quickly browsed through it.
"Experiment 19 was a complete success. While demonstrating the Isu's unique abilities, it remained obedient to the researchers..."
"We can't just give up Number 19. The Templars have changed their stance and are pressing us. To prevent them from taking extreme measures, we've decided to relocate..."
"…To be on the safe side, we still need more artificial Isu bloodline test subjects. After testing, test subject No. 32 has shown initial qualities of an 'assassin'. We can proceed to the next step."
"...The brainwashing operation did not go smoothly...There was interference from the subject's own memories..."
Elio's face darkened. He flipped back quickly, and finally, a few pictures appeared on the file. Willow and Graham's faces were prominently listed, but the worst part was, there was a small note underneath each picture: Subject 19 & 32.
"Three minutes left."
Survivors whispered on the stairs. Elio stuffed the paper into his arms and ran upstairs. The young woman looked terrified, but she tried to remain calm. She whispered to Elio: she saw a group of red targets walking up the stairs. If they went any further, they might be discovered.
"I understand," Elio said. "Wait here."
"Good luck!" she whispered.
The other survivors murmured their blessings, watching Elio's back as he ascended and disappeared into the darkness. The effect of his eagle vision gradually faded, and the young woman's head pounded. She covered her eyes with one hand and reached for the handrail with the other. But to her surprise, it wasn't a cold handrail.
She grasped the warm hands extended by others.
In her surprised eyes, they gathered silently and exchanged a glance. A smile appeared on her face.
"We will definitely be able to get out." The brown-haired woman said in a firm tone.
Elio had thought so too. He quietly scurried up and followed the team. One by one, researchers were covered over their mouths and noses and fell limply. Finally, as the team turned the corner and went up the stairs, someone spotted Elio, who was closely following the team and had even devoured half of it.
"assassin!"
Elio abandoned his stealth. Before the researcher in front of him could turn around, the assassin thrust his hidden blade forward, stepping over the fallen body and charging forward. The researcher had little power to resist, but he soon realized why they had called out "Assassin."
They had already reached the underground level. But before the door to the dawn of victory and escape, a burly golden figure came in, puffing.
Elio's heart skipped a beat. No matter how disguised, he couldn't fail to recognize this figure. Furthermore, Graham, charging at him with a fierce glare, had no intention of disguising himself.
"Graham!" Elio yelled. "It's me!"
"One minute left."
Subject 32 roared and threw Elio. They tangled in a tangle on the floor, tumbling down the stairs. If they were smaller, if the force of their blows were less intense, perhaps they would look like two little boys fighting over a toy, or whatever—like they had done years ago. Like they had done back in the orphanage.
"Graham Walker! You idiot!" Elio punched him. "Wake up!"
Subject 32 let out an inarticulate roar and kicked him back. None of them had time to grab the stairs, and they kept tumbling down. Elio glanced at the survivors hiding to the side and, amid their shocked gazes, called out, "Hurry! The exit is up there!"
"Thirty seconds left."
As the survivors rushed to the surface, Elio and Graham struggled on the stairs, falling downward. They plummeted to the second and third basement floors, Elio's back slamming hard against the ground. Without a moment to cry out in pain, he dodged the blow and rolled sideways, falling again. Number 32, in pursuit, was about to pounce, but Elio had barely gotten up when Number 32 slipped on the scattered papers on the stairs and fell.
The situation reversed in an instant. Elio, standing straight, twisted and lunged, stomping heavily on No. 32, his hand raised high. His Hidden Blade reflexively flew out, the gleaming blade piercing No. 32's face.
For a moment, they both held their breath.
Then, Elio retracted his fingers, retracted his hidden blade, clenched it into a fist, and hit Graham hard in the face.
"Twenty seconds left."
Graham was knocked unconscious. Elio breathed a sigh of relief and climbed off him. Time was running out, and the assassin picked up Graham and ran up the stairs again.
"Ten seconds left."
Why is Graham still so heavy? If it weren't for saving energy, Elio would have cursed out loud. Panting, he carried Graham and climbed up. Underground level three, underground level two, the broadcast was counting down to the last three seconds.
Elio climbed to the basement level. Hope was within reach.
"Explosions have begun, please make sure you are clear of the base."
The floor beneath them began to shake, and explosions came one after another from the bottom.
Flames shot out from every corner, instantly engulfing delicate equipment and blood-stained instruments; the metal walls buckled under the powerful impact, scattering fragments like shotgun shells. The explosion quickly caught up with them, flames and smoke filled the corridor, and rubble from the ceiling fell and crashed down.
The huge air wave knocked over Elio and No. 32 who had escaped to the door.
Elio was covered in wounds. He braced himself against the ground, trying to rise, but failed. He had been wounded too many times, and the smell of blood welled up in his throat. The assassin instinctively reached into his arms, hoping for a shot of adrenaline, but found nothing.
Elio gave a wry smile, managed to turn himself over, and looked at the fire burning behind him.
"It's all over," he murmured.
Flames soared across the dark sea. The scorching heat nearly burned them before their eyes, but Elio no longer had the strength to move. At that moment, Number 32 beside him twitched and woke up.
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