Chapter 29: The Rebel Army

November 11, 2043, early morning, Great Wilderness Mountain Underground City.

Flames soared on the small square as the surviving warriors of the July Incident gathered to commemorate their comrades who had fallen three years prior. In those days, they had dreamed together of a future, living as brothers through life and death. Together, they had hoped to one day leave the underground city and live normal lives. Now, after three years, they finally found the courage to take that step.

The authorities of the underground city were, of course, unwilling to see such an event unfold—especially since the organizer was a mysterious figure wearing a V-shaped smiling mask, likely a survivor from that fateful day.

Soon, the city’s defense forces surrounded those gathered for the memorial. The warriors raised their battle song, an anthem passed down for over two millennia—“Qin Wind: No Robe.”

How can you say we have no robes? Together we wear the same garb. The king raises his army; I sharpen my spear. Together, we share the same hatred!

How can you say we have no robes? Together we share the same waters. The king raises his army; I sharpen my halberd. Together, we labor as one!

How can you say we have no robes? Together we wear the same attire. The king raises his army; I sharpen my armor. Together, we march as one!

Passion surged among the crowd as they fought fiercely against the minions of tyranny. In an instant, it felt as if everything had returned to that night three years ago: once again facing the city’s guards, the weak scattering in panic—some gripped by fear, doing all they could to escape; others, charging ahead without hesitation, falling under enemy gunfire.

Those who survived by chance were filled with regret—not only loathing their cowardice, but forced to endure even crueler torment, becoming sacrifices for experiments. If death was inevitable, why hadn’t they cherished the rare opportunity for resistance? Many had lived in remorse for three years.

Today, the chance had returned. They were still weak, but no longer afraid. The seed of vengeance had grown into a towering tree in their hearts. With their own hands, they would seek justice for their fallen loved ones and for themselves.

They were not fighting alone...

As Taoran led his people in a bloody clash with the city’s guards, military infiltrators began their own actions. According to prior arrangements, the soldiers quietly sought out familiar hidden comrades, passing on news of the uprising. These comrades spread the message to others they trusted. Word spread from one to ten, ten to a hundred. By the eve of the action, hundreds had gathered—far more than anticipated.

Witnessing Taoran’s group clashing with the city guards, the soldiers rushed in from all directions to support the square. Since Taoran’s forces were few, the guards sent to suppress them were also limited. Trapped between two sides, the guards suffered heavy losses.

The conflict intensified; gunshots, blades, and clashing armor echoed clearly throughout the residential district. Hearing the commotion, some underground city “residents” hid inside, unable to bear watching, silently praying; others approached their windows, quietly cheering on the warriors; some, deeply persecuted and ignited by vengeance, grabbed weapons and joined the fray, vanishing into the crowd.

Few elders remained in the city; most who remembered the July Incident had perished in battle or suffered inhuman experiments. Yet some survived by luck, and upon witnessing the scene before them, were moved and hopeful.

As more people were swept into the conflict, the city’s guards could no longer hold back. The underground city seemed poised for revolution, making many wonder if the rumors circulating recently might be true: “When dandelions fill the air, they will return. Then, democracy and freedom will illuminate every street and alley underground.”

Falcon Squad did not directly participate in the action. Their task was to stall the city committee’s response at all costs—Taoran’s idea.

With such turmoil on the square, the city authorities could not be oblivious. At the government center, the core organization members convened an emergency meeting to discuss their strategy.

The attendees split into two camps: one advocated suppression, the other opposed it.

The pro-war faction’s arguments were sound. Since the city’s establishment, there had been three rebellions. The first was the exodus of researchers; failing to act promptly had resulted in heavy losses. The second was an uprising of test subjects—a rabble whose abilities were granted by the organization, posing little real threat. The third was the July Incident, involving outsiders; fortunately, it was suppressed in time, though its impact still lingered. This current incident was clearly linked to the previous one, with careful preparation. It must be suppressed swiftly to prevent escalation and negative outcomes.

The peace faction’s reasoning was equally valid. Suppression would require heavy weaponry, but the underground city was unlike the outside world—such action could cause permanent damage, like collapse, jeopardizing the city’s defenses and accelerating its demise.

Moreover, the fighting was confined to the residential district; no matter how well-prepared, the rebels couldn’t overturn the city. While the flames hadn’t reached the research center or industrial zone, preparations should be made: first, guard against internal betrayal—after all, the July Incident was triggered by core personnel defecting, which led to huge losses; second, protect vital data and staff. If an uncontrollable situation arose, they could abandon the city and flee—most experiments were nearly complete anyway.

The two sides reached an impasse, temporarily isolating the rebellious zone—a move that benefited Falcon Squad. They split up: Zhao Nana and Lin Xiaofeng worked to win over the research center. The scientific madmen there still retained some humanity; with reason and empathy, they could be persuaded. They didn’t expect them to help—just to stay neutral.

Da Min and Brother Long headed for the industrial zone, the true heart of the underground city: weapons, mechanized armor, and reagents all originated there.

The research center had no intention of intervening. Lately, many projects had hit bottlenecks, and the leadership was unhappy with progress, leaving the scientists disgruntled. Thus, when Nana and Xiaofeng infiltrated the center and found Director Jiang Hao, he readily agreed to remain neutral.

The factory was a different story—heavily guarded. Da Min and Brother Long struggled to sneak inside. They didn’t aim to take over the industrial zone, which was impossible. Their goal was to temporarily shut down the main power supply and halt operations.

Things didn’t go smoothly. After much effort, they found the distribution room, but couldn’t operate it, so they blew it up. The explosion drew a wave of enemies, forcing them to hide silently in a corner. Fortunately, the underground city had no day or night. With the power out, darkness enveloped the factory; everyone was like the blind, unable to see each other—safe for now, but escape would be difficult.

Meanwhile, the rebels, aided by the city committee’s isolation of the conflict zone, quickly gained the upper hand. The city guards initially resisted, but upon realizing they’d been abandoned, their morale collapsed. They surrendered, longing for the outside world.

The revolution achieved a temporary victory. The rebels celebrated, and those watching from the residential district joined the revelry. Though survival was uncertain, at least tomorrow promised freedom.

Taoran, gravely wounded, watched the celebrating crowd, found a stone to sit on, and murmured, “Big brother, second brother, can you see? We won—we really did.”

Ayong, seeing the flames, rushed out at once. He had yearned for this day for so long; even the smallest victory brought comfort, proof that he had resisted. Sadly, he was badly injured and might not live to see the final triumph. Closing his eyes in sorrow, he hoped the celebrants wouldn’t step on him, letting him savor the victory a little longer.

Suddenly, the sound of metal striking the ground and hurried footsteps approached—someone was coming! Damn it, watch your step! Don’t tread on me! But he no longer had the strength to shout, silently closing his eyes.

It was Ah Hao who approached, looking at the wounded lying on the ground, and snorted softly. So no one could recognize his footsteps anymore—good thing he had always cried and insisted they were sworn brothers.