Lin Xian couldn’t even find the words to describe the shock he felt at this moment.

If the Redman Aberrants he encountered inside the Star Abyss could still be understood as some kind of post-human bio-cybernetic transformation, then what stood before him now completely defied human comprehension.

“You’re right. This is indeed a secret manufacturing facility of the Crimson World.”

Jian Xuwei glanced at Lin Xian. “This place used to be a workshop for loading heavy mechs and aerospace vehicles. It’s classified at the highest level, typically reserved for wartime production. I only found out about it after I took control of the factory’s main control center.”

“So, this was also an abandoned construction site?” Chen Sixuan asked.

Jian Xuwei replied, “I’m not sure. The Crimson World operates with extreme secrecy, but facilities like this, so highly classified, could only be provided by a power like the Federation.”

“D*mn, what the hell are they up to?” Lin Xian looked up at the towering grotesque bio-mechanical entity.

Unlike the prototype Pangu he had seen in the Emperor Project, which embodied the pinnacle of human industrial design with its mechanical weight and precision, this flesh-and-blood construct exuded a sense of twisted corruption. The sharp scent of disinfectant made it feel as though they were standing in a specimen tank full of formalin-soaked alien creatures. Lin Xian shivered involuntarily.

“KIKI, let’s check it out.”

“Got it!”

Without hesitation, KIKI took Lin Xian and flew upward, hovering above the grotesque bio-mechanical construct.

Lin Xian stared at it—hidden in the shadows of the hangar, it resembled an old god forcibly dragged into the human world. Its head was fused with some kind of armor, the back of its skull embedded with a massive brain-machine interface module. Two giant bio-suppression devices, like twin swords, pierced into its back. Countless fluid tubes fed into it, carrying a yellow-brown liquid that reeked of rot.

The neck and joints were bound in dark red restraints. The metal armor plates, etched with warning symbols, weren’t for protection—they were there to suppress the modules and the restraints themselves.

Lin Xian focused on the creature’s head. Beneath the eye armor were grey-black compound eyes, the flesh hardened and dead. Yet, in the instant Lin Xian stared, a sudden flash of darkness swept through his mind—both he and KIKI felt a wave of cold slam into them.

Lowering his hand from his eyes, Lin Xian’s pupils contracted. Was it an illusion? He could have sworn the creature’s eyes had just flickered green, the jaw armor had shifted, revealing slowly opening fangs, and the spine had creaked with a twisting crack!

But the next moment, everything reverted to its original state. Nothing seemed to have happened.

The grotesque construct was held upright only by the factory’s support structures and hydraulic systems. Lin Xian took out his Spirit Resonance Scanner. No dark marks detected. Not even a reading on the Spirit Resonance value—it was completely dead.

“KIKI.” Lin Xian pointed to a console on the control panel, gesturing for her to check it.

KIKI nodded and flew over, while Lin Xian used a mechanical scanner to inspect the restraints and suppression modules attached to the construct.

Below, Chen Sixuan watched Lin Xian’s scan and asked Jian Xuwei, “Something this massive was built underground—how did no one up top know about it?”

Jian Xuwei shook her head. “There are classified transport tunnels below that connect to the starport, as well as multiple military airports and bases. The Crimson World likes to operate underground, and in this doomsday era, no one can trace their movements.”

“No f***ing way... They’re really planning to use this as a weapon?” Lin Xian looked up at the giant bio-construct. “They want to control an aberrant like this?”

“That’s probably an A-Class aberrant, at most.” Lin Xian turned to Monica. “You remember the one we ran into during the White City evacuation? The one by the low-rise building?”

“Of course I remember. These things are a nightmare without heavy firepower.” Monica folded her arms, frowning. “Based on what we’ve seen from the Crimson World’s experiments and the Redman Aberrants, it seems like they’re trying to transfer human consciousness into these creatures. But clones, aberrants, even Redman Aberrants—they’re still human. Can you even control something like that?”

“Not very likely,” Jian Xuwei agreed.

“So, is this one just a corpse?”

Just then, Ning Jing and KIKI returned from the lower section, their faces grim.

“We checked it. The mycelium brain-machine system and bio-suppression modules match the technology of the Redman Aberrants. But this looks more like an experimental subject.”

“What kind of experiment?”

“No idea.” KIKI was working her portable terminal. “All the logs have been wiped. Last update was three days ago, but this thing’s been here a while.”

“Three days ago?”

Chen Sixuan frowned. “Then it probably has nothing to do with us entering Jinhai.”

Lin Xian nodded. “Yeah. Just an abandoned setup.”

“Can we use it?” KIKI looked at Lin Xian, hopeful. “Can we power it up and use it as a giant mech?”

“No.”

Lin Xian pointed at the construct’s chest. “This isn’t a mech. Aside from the suppression modules and restraints, there’s just some armor plating. That armor was probably for testing movement patterns. Other than a few small power units, there’s no mechanism to drive it.”

“No propulsion system...” Qian Dele let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “So this thing’s just a saddle and reins, meant to ride the living aberrant?”

“Pretty much.”

“What’s the point of that?” Shi Diyuan looked baffled.

Lin Xian explained, “If the Redman Aberrant model works, it means humans can control an aberrant’s mind and body. That would make its mobility and combat capabilities far beyond even the super-heavy mechs from the Emperor Project.”

“And no risk of dark invasion,” Jian Xuwei added.

“Exactly.”

“Son of a b****,” Shi Diyuan muttered, eyes wide. “These guys aren’t playing small.”

“I’m just speculating, but I doubt it’s that simple.” Lin Xian’s expression darkened. “First off, taking down an A-Class aberrant is already a massive challenge—let alone capturing one alive. Plus, while the theory of integrating digital life with clones or Redman Aberrants works—Director Ding knows that best—aberrants aren’t human.”

“So they’re studying mycelium tech,” KIKI chimed in. “Lin Xian, remember—they wanted to use the mycelium network for actual consciousness transfer, not just copying.”

Lin Xian nodded. “Right. Almost forgot about that.”

He looked back at the experimental construct, his voice low and thoughtful. “Let’s have Director Ding and Takahashi Ryunosuke’s team take a look. The Crimson World’s goal here... they really want to play god.”

Jian Xuwei added, “I noticed this while investigating the Redman Aberrants in Dawn City, but the situation’s escalated faster than I expected.”

“Strange.”

KIKI frowned. “Weren’t we saying Jinhai was the Crimson World’s base of operations? So... they just packed up and left?”

“That’s the second thing I wanted to talk about.” Jian Xuwei spoke up. “The Crimson World isn’t a fixed organization. They have very few actual operatives. But using AI cores, digital lifeforms, and Redman Aberrants, they’ve built a production and operation network that’s highly efficient and nearly untraceable. We’ve captured Redman Aberrants before, but their brain-machine cores and data modules self-destruct. We couldn’t get any useful info.”

“Because they all parasitize kidnapped espers. Vile b*******,” Zhou Mingyuan muttered.

“Later, the Redman Aberrant incidents and missing persons cases in Dawn City increased. And those Redman Aberrants weren’t sneaking in—they were being let in.”

“You’re saying Dawn City is colluding with the Crimson World?” Wei Kexue exhaled sharply.

“Yes.”

Chen Sixuan turned to Ning Jing. “You believe it too? That part of the Crimson World is inside Dawn City?”

“What?!”

“That’s insane!”

Everyone’s expressions shifted, shocked by the implication.

“Because their operations are so secretive—probably more so than the Night Patrol Division in the city—that’s why I have this theory. And besides the Redman Aberrants, there’s no reliable way to identify other Crimson World personnel. Even if someone was standing right in front of you, would you know what organization they belonged to?” Jian Xuwei asked.

“That’s a real problem.”

Lin Xian looked at Jian Xuwei and asked, “So what’s your plan?”

“The same as yours,” Jian Xuwei replied. “Our people will start pulling out. Now that the Phoenix Society is here, the Nightstalker Organization will definitely follow. What we need to do is use the moment when Dawn City and the Crimson World are too busy to pay attention to us, and get out safely.”

As she spoke, she flipped her wrist, and the red Phoenix Token rose slowly from the module on her arm.

“Trust me, the partnership between Dawn City and the Crimson World is far more complicated than you think.”

“Phoenix Token?” Lin Xian glanced at it. “Wait—you’re not working under the Phoenix Society’s orders to investigate Dawn City, are you?”

Jian Xuwei shook her head seriously. “No. I came to Jinhai for the Skyrail Project. This was originally part of the Ringstar Engineering initiative, a prototype orbital train designed to shuttle between Blue Star and the Lunar Ring. The Fanger Group, Xinghua Heavy Industries, and Jinhai Metro-Ringstar were all construction partners. Even...”

She glanced at Monica, but Monica just smiled, arms crossed, unconcerned.

“The Cartier family is long gone—there’s no business or assets left. You all talk among yourselves;

I don’t care. But if Captain Lin can secure that Skyrail, save me a seat, will you? Monica would be very grateful.”

Her voice carried a teasing lilt, and Lin Xian could only shake his head, half-exasperated.

“Fine. If I get it, I’ll save you a first-class seat.”

“Perfect.” Monica grinned and leaned in close to Lin Xian, whispering with a sultry tone, “As thanks, you can... swallow the Mo Queen anytime you want~.” She deliberately drew out the last few words, suggestive and provocative.

Lin Xian’s eyes sparkled at that, thinking how his mechanical abilities could evolve further.

Jian Xuwei gave Monica a cold glance, catching the odd look Monica shot her, and quickly shifted her gaze away. She continued,

“This unfinished project was forcibly repurposed as a doomsday initiative after the Day of Revelation. Because while the Silver Star is an Eternal-class ship, it can’t safely enter the oceanic orbit in this hostile environment. That’s why I had to change plans and head north. But Zhou Mingyuan from the Federation used the pretense of cooperative negotiations to seize my Silver Star and all Jinhai and Dawn City’s corporate assets. I had no choice but to work temporarily with Dawn City.”

“I didn’t expect that they were planning to use the Fanger Group’s resources to build the Skyrail. Then I found out this project was proposed by Wen Hui of the Linglong Group.”

“Wait, isn’t the Linglong Group the one that claimed they were investing in this orbital train? So it was you guys who were building it all along?” KIKI asked, a strange look on her face.

“The Linglong Group is the Federation’s primary partner in the underground city initiative. They also control a large portion of maritime trade and have vast resources. They’re in a tight alliance with the Federation. Later, Zhou Mingyuan handed the Skyrail project over to Wen Dong. But when I received the construction specs, I realized it was just a political showpiece for the Federation.

They claim the train can carry a million people between the stars. But to make that happen, they’d need to build at least a thousand standard Skyrail carriages. And we’re not talking ordinary train cars here—each Skyrail carriage meets interstellar travel standards. At the Federation’s current production rate, it would take them 20 years to finish.”

Jian Xuwei sighed.

“But having a project like this gives Dawn City a stronger claim to be ‘the beacon of humanity,’ doesn’t it?” Lin Xian said flatly.

“That’s right.”

Lin Xian looked up at the massive grotesque bio-construct, fanned away the strong smell of disinfectant, and frowned.

“So while you’re cooperating with the Federation, you’re also looking for opportunities—and investigating the Crimson World on the side?”

“I have no choice,” Jian Xuwei said with a hint of amusement, turning to Lin Xian. “But you—collaborating with Takahashi Ryunosuke? I didn’t expect you to make such a bold move. You must have planned this with the Phoenix Society’s Skybreaker Ship, right?”

Lin Xian let out a wry smile. “We’re just trying to survive. It has nothing to do with the Phoenix Society.”

Jian Xuwei’s face changed slightly. “You’re... not working with the Phoenix Society?”

“Nope.” Chen Sixuan spoke up. “After leaving the Star Abyss, Silent City came under Zhou Mingyuan’s watch. When you and Zhou Mingyuan, along with Wen Dong, arrived in Silent City, we weren’t prepared for anything.”

Jian Xuwei looked at Lin Xian with a complex expression, paused, and said,

“That’s... really odd. Just a coincidence?”

“Maybe.” Shi Diyuan interjected. “The Federation’s already been exposed as collaborating with the Crimson World. They’ve cemented their image as anti-human. I figure they’re afraid the Phoenix Society will push them out entirely, taking Dawn City’s jurisdiction. With Silent City pressing from the left, and the Iron Guard 83rd Brigade at Everport on the right, they must feel boxed in. That’s why they’re pulling back all their fleets and resources—if they don’t, they risk letting us swoop in and pick them clean.”

“Exactly.” Monica stepped forward. “They’re so paranoid right now, they probably think all of this is part of the Phoenix Society’s grand scheme.”

“Kind of makes sense.” Qian Dele nodded.

Jian Xuwei sighed and nodded too. “Alright. I guess that explanation fits.”

Lin Xian looked at Jian Xuwei, a hint of suspicion still in his voice. Back in Silent City, he and Takahashi Ryunosuke had suspected that Jian Xuwei was working for the Phoenix Society, seizing control of the train factory. After all, they were all holders of the Crimson Phoenix Token. But it turned out none of them had coordinated with the Phoenix Society in advance.

With Dawn City in such a tense state, Shi Diyuan’s theory seemed the most reasonable...

But Lin Xian didn’t like coincidences. Especially not now, when they were up against both Dawn City of the Federation and the Crimson World. These weren’t just some desert bandits from Akesai—this was a whole different game.

If they couldn’t explain it... Lin Xian was more inclined to believe that Dawn City had other moves up their sleeve.

Maybe the Phoenix Society’s visit this time wasn’t just because of the Star Abyss anomalies.

“I have a question.” Chen Sixuan looked at Jian Xuwei. “Dawn City has been claiming that their dark-invaded water purification has reached 95%. Is that true?”

As soon as she said that, everyone turned to look at Jian Xuwei.

“Yes,” Jian Xuwei replied without hesitation.

“What?!” KIKI’s eyes widened in shock.

Everyone else was also stunned.

Right now, even the Phoenix Society, the European Storm Alliance, the North American United Front, and the Dawn Center—all fighting with millions of people—had only managed to achieve 18%.

“Wait... is this related to the Crimson World?” Ning Jing asked.

But Jian Xuwei shook her head and calmly replied, “At first, I was also curious. After all, the inner city and the underground zones in Dawn City really do have access to water that’s purified up to 95%. It’s expensive, sure, but the entire city, even the old districts, can get their hands on it to some extent. Many people have started to believe that Dawn City really does have this kind of technology.

But I quickly realized... it’s not what it seems.”

Jian Xuwei continued, “It’s actually very simple. Dawn City has the best urban pipeline system in the world.”

Lin Xian’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“What she means is,” Monica’s voice cut in smoothly, “this so-called 95% purified water? It’s just wastewater that’s been filtered through the human body.”

Everyone’s expressions changed instantly.

“Huh? This... this is where the drinking water comes from?” KIKI rolled her eyes in disbelief.

“Exactly.” Jian Xuwei glanced at Monica and continued, “Dawn City has a population of nearly 7 million. No matter how well you store your clean water, it will inevitably get contaminated by the dark invasion over time. The toxin concentration will only increase. But the human body filters out toxins. So if you channel the city’s entire sewage system through the water treatment plants, you get 95% purified water. Then they sell it at high prices as a premium product.”

Lin Xian’s face darkened. His mind was racing with curses—this was straight-up marketing wizardry.

“Knew it was a scam.” Shi Diyuan cursed. “Sure, closed-loop water systems aren’t a problem. Even spaceships have them. But using that as a gimmick to gouge people while claiming some miraculous technology... that’s just shameless.”

“Only politicians could come up with a scheme to scam people like this while also spinning it as a technological breakthrough.” Monica sneered. “I know these types all too well.”

“Who cares—we’re not going to Dawn City anyway,” Qian Dele said casually, glancing at Jian Xuwei. “So what’s the situation with that Skyrail? Can we take control of it?”

“The main structure of the Skyrail is already complete. It’s docked at Bay 1 of the loading facility. Four main ship modules are mostly built. The weapons systems are about half done. What’s left is the gravity ring and the standard carriages.”

“Let’s go check it out,” Lin Xian said.

“Contact Silent City too—see what’s going on at the Jinhai Starport. Then we can regroup and plan next steps.”

“Let’s move.”

Jian Xuwei looked at Lin Xian. “The industrial zone’s defensive walls were built by the Federation and the Linglong Group. Plus, there are other survivor-built iron barriers outside. For now, this area is relatively safe—or... at least safer than Dawn City.”

“Yeah, after hearing your breakdown, Dawn City is definitely not worth staying in. I’d rather face monsters and zombies than deal with that place!” Shi Diyuan grumbled.

The group took a large industrial elevator back to the surface. The surrounding factory complex roared with gunfire, but inside, everything was eerily quiet.

As soon as they reached the surface, Lin Xian opened a comms link to Silent City and relayed the latest information.

“A-Class aberrant bio-construct? Interesting... looks like they’ve been working on this for a while.” Takahashi Ryunosuke’s voice came through, calm as ever.

“You think this approach could work?” Lin Xian asked, frowning.

“That’s not something we can answer so easily,” Ryunosuke replied. “At the very least, they’ve proven that integrating mycelium with brain-machine tech can create those disgusting Redman Aberrants. If we treat dark-infected organisms purely as biological entities, the theory could hold. By the way, you have a top biologist on your team. You should ask her opinion.”

“Good point. What’s the status at the starport?” Lin Xian asked.

“All clear. Just a small squad left guarding the place. The rest have already fled,” answered Qian Suxun, Ryunosuke’s right-hand man. “There are a few aerospace ship modules and half-finished aircraft. Anything usable has been evacuated.”

“That fast?”

“They definitely had contingency plans. My scout team is already deployed. We’ll have intel from Dawn City soon.”

“Alright. Let’s keep the defensive perimeter tight.”

The industrial zone, starport base, and the Ringstar train loading factory formed a triangle-shaped defensive line, with Silent City holding one flank. Now that they had secured the starport, the entire Jinhai region was temporarily under their control.

There were no large-scale Crimson World assaults, nor any counterattacks from Dawn City’s defense forces. For the first time, Lin Xian had accidentally become the de facto ruler of a major city.

But he had no time to dwell on that.

He gathered the Infinity crew, the United Train leadership, and core members—dozens of them in total—and followed Jian Xuwei toward the largest factory: Bay 1.

Even before reaching it, Lin Xian spotted the giant train car floating in the distant magnetic suspension array. His eyes widened in shock.

The others were just as stunned.

“What is that?” Lin Xian asked.

“Standard ship module,” Jian Xuwei explained. “If I had to describe it... it’s a single carriage of the Skyrail interstellar train.”

“This... this is a train? This looks like a starship!” Hu Lushou followed Lin Xian, his eyes nearly popping out of his head when he saw the massive carriage.

“It’s both a train and a starship.”

An elderly engineer next to Jian Xuwei raised his voice, eager to explain. “This module is fully autonomous. Think of the Skyrail as a series of standard starship modules—infinitely connectable!”

“Wait until they see the main ship before you keep explaining.” Jian Xuwei said with a hint of a smile.