Chapter 14: Fuzhou

Special Operations Division Conference Hall. Mechanical agent Luna was presenting the “Falcon Project” to the four of them:

“The red dots on the map represent all locations where cyborgs have appeared. Their distribution is relatively concentrated, mainly in North America, East Asia, and Central Europe, with some scattered elsewhere. The blue dots show the sites where monsters have emerged—nearly every landmass is affected. According to data from the United Nations Information Center, disasters of varying severity have now occurred in all 192 countries, with our nation among the most severely afflicted. Every major city with a population above one million has suffered some degree of loss.”

“Damn, that many! So… those new dots that keep appearing, are they from just-updated data?” Long, who had been staring at the large screen since entering the room, had already noticed the flashing red and blue dots multiplying before his eyes. He hadn’t expected this explanation.

“Exactly! The data updates in real-time! But there’s no prize for the correct answer~” Luna tossed Yang Yichen a playful wink. Long restrained himself this time.

Of course, that wasn’t the point. What mattered was that, hearing Agent Luna’s explanation, all the members of the Falcon Team felt a chill run down their spines. The situation was even more dire than they’d imagined. Now, all they wanted to know was what missions they’d be assigned—and whether their safety could be guaranteed.

According to Luna, although governments worldwide had promptly launched rescue operations after the outbreak, the disasters had not been effectively contained. In fact, the situation continued to deteriorate, with some sparsely populated, weaker nations falling completely. The United Nations had thus called on all countries to help one another through the crisis.

The Special Investigation Unit had been founded in this context, tasked with uncovering the truth behind the events and sparing no effort to help authorities track down the organization behind it—a complete sweep. Given the enormous workload, extreme risk, and need for absolute secrecy, the Special Operations Division had adopted a multi-team, multi-batch approach. The Falcon Team was just one among many.

After Luna’s briefing, all four members of the Falcon Team breathed a sigh of relief. So, it might be possible to coast through the mission—treat it as an adventure, since nowhere was safe anymore. Whether they participated in operations or not, survival was hardly assured. Hiding out offered no guarantees, and taking risks didn’t automatically spell doom. If lucky, they might even earn some merit—why not give it a shot? Thinking this way brought some comfort.

Still, when it came to investigating the Shadow Organization, they were at a complete loss. They had no idea where to start, what the group’s goals were, or even if its name was final—it was just a codename assigned during a UN Security Council emergency meeting. All they knew was that Professor Wu, whom they’d previously encountered, was likely a high-ranking member, and that the conflict at the northern botanical garden may have been orchestrated by this group.

Where should they begin their search? Luna did offer a suggestion, or rather relayed an assignment from higher up: they were to go to Fuzhou.

Why Fuzhou? Because something unusual had occurred there. According to the federal government’s post-disaster assessment, of all the country’s second-tier and above cities, only Fuzhou had remained untouched. As a northern metropolis surrounded on three sides by the sea, Fuzhou should have been hit in the first wave like other big cities, but as of now, it was still safe. Multiple investigative teams had been sent to Fuzhou and the surrounding areas, but so far had only uncovered a few scattered clues. The federal government decided to deploy more teams there, hoping for a decisive breakthrough.

The assignment to Fuzhou left Zhang Xingmin secretly elated, for Fuzhou was his hometown. Since the disaster, all communications had been cut off, and he’d been unable to reach his family, leaving him anxious and tormented. Hearing from Luna that Fuzhou was still safe put his heart at ease—at least for a moment. Yet he dared not fully relax; in these uncertain times, anything could happen overnight, and Fuzhou might fall at any moment.

The very next day, after receiving their orders, the team set out. For safety reasons, they avoided land travel and instead boarded a naval vessel heading north along the coast—currently the safest route. Commander Lin didn’t come to see off the four members of the Falcon Team; perhaps he couldn’t bear the thought of his son facing mortal danger. He simply stood by his office window, gazing out in silence.

In contrast, Zhao Nana’s mother was quite different. She stood on the dock, tears streaming down her face as she watched her daughter’s ship recede into the distance. After just a few precious days reunited, how could her daughter, a young doctor, not simply stay safe at the base? Why take on such a dangerous mission?

Of course, Zhao’s mother was not one to make a scene—otherwise, she would have stormed the military command in tears and protest. She was simply worried for her daughter’s safety, terrified she might never see her again. In the past two months, she’d seen too many partings and deaths, and didn’t want to experience that agony herself. It’s a tragedy when parents outlive their children—who could bear it?

Who wasn’t afraid for their own safety? Especially in times when everyone lived in fear. On the ship, the four members of the Falcon Team didn’t speak of it, but they all knew the road ahead was fraught with mortal danger. They didn’t claim to be noble heroes willing to die for all mankind, but if they could help with the post-disaster recovery while keeping themselves safe, it was worth it. This was the spirit instilled in them since childhood: “How can we rest while the threat still looms?”

“Do you think we’ll really die?” Zhao Nana couldn’t hold back any longer. Watching her mother linger at the dock, her tears flowed uncontrollably.

“Don’t worry, Nana! We’ve all weathered storms together—what haven’t we faced?” Zhang Xingmin’s words were both a comfort to Zhao Nana and an encouragement to himself.

“Exactly, Nana! If danger comes, the three of us will protect you! Don’t you trust our skills?” Lin Xiaofeng declared proudly.

Long was more direct. Wearing a deliberately mischievous expression, he said, “At worst, we die together! To perish alongside the beautiful Zhao Nana, the woman of my dreams—I’d have no regrets.”

Zhao Nana dismissed him with a scornful retort, “Keep dreaming! Who wants to die with a scoundrel like you?” Then she walked away.

Traveling by sea was indeed much safer than by land. The first day passed calmly, nothing amiss. Sailing close to the shoreline, they could use binoculars to observe the land. Just as Luna had described, every city and town along the way was desolate and ruined—a true apocalypse.

Living souls were rare sights; only occasionally did they spot a safe zone or refugee camp. Most of the time, the only moving things were the little monsters roaming the streets. In some places, not even the monsters remained—it was a forbidden zone for life.

On the second day, the ship had left the waters near Jiangcheng. The sky turned overcast and a steady drizzle began, though thankfully there was little wind, so navigation wasn’t affected. Still, the gloomy weather, combined with the world’s chaos, made everyone uneasy.

Often, intuition is accurate. After a morning of drizzle, the wind began to pick up. Satellite forecasts indicated a severe storm was approaching.

In the warship’s bridge, the captain and crew sprang into action, initiating Emergency Protocol One—full speed ahead to the nearest naval port for shelter. Orders were broadcast throughout the ship: all personnel on deck must withdraw to the cabins for safety.

The plan was simple: so long as they moved fast enough, the storm couldn’t catch them. But the storm had a mind of its own. According to forecasts, the eye of the storm would pass seventy nautical miles ahead, well clear of their route. But then, the storm veered southwest—heading straight for them.

There was no way to avoid it. The captain considered for a moment, then ordered Emergency Protocol Two. The ship’s sealing mechanism was activated—essentially putting a giant lid on the warship, transforming it gradually into a submarine that could dive deep.

Once back inside, the Falcon Team’s four members felt stifled. The cabin was cramped; though it had a four-room, one-living-room layout, it was a miniature version to conserve space. Fortunately, there was a periscope system, so they could still see outside and didn’t feel quite so claustrophobic.

As the submarine descended, the outside world changed. Less and less light filtered in, the water grew darker, and even the sea creatures grew stranger as visibility dropped. It was said that in the depths, fish grew as they pleased, since no one could see them anyway—sometimes, even their eyes were just decorations.

The four of them, bored, watched the scenery—which, for lack of a better word, they called beautiful, since it was so rare—and chatted idly. For a moment, it almost felt as if nothing had happened to the world, as if they were simply participating in some wilderness survival game.

But the atmosphere was soon shattered. A violent shake pulled them back to reality.

“What the hell happened? Why is the ship shaking so badly?” Long, who was in the midst of bragging, smacked his head on a metal pillar and cursed, utterly confused.

“I don’t know! At this depth, submarines shouldn’t be affected by shallow sea storms!” Zhang Xingmin was equally baffled.

“Look! Long, Xingmin, Nana—look over there! Something’s happening!” Lin Xiaofeng stared, dumbstruck, at the swarm of creatures swimming past the viewport…