The residents, the latecomers, the heterogeneous, the military officers—they just stood in front of the communication channel, waiting, waiting for news of the Underground City Base’s rescue and the situation of the Northern Base. Even the vine that was guarding the institute stretched a branch through the window.

There were occasional whispers.

“How many people died?”

“Uncle Shu is dead. The body is downstairs.”

“Where is Tang Lan?”

“I didn’t see him.”

The breakout and counterattack began. No one made any reports on the communication channel and everyone held their breath while waiting.

In the quiet tension, Polly Joan got up from the computer. His steps faltered, whether it was because of his age or emotion. There was a squeak as he pushed open the door and first stared at the extinguished Simpson Cage. Everywhere outside was full of blood and corpses but the Simpson Cage was clean. Immediately, he shifted his eyes forward.

Outside the laboratory door, the black figure half leaning against the wall raised his head. The pair of eyes seemed empty, like a green ocean covered by 10,000 years of ice. They just saw each other and knew each other’s identity.

Polly Joan’s grey-blue eyes were full of sorrow.

“Child,” he spoke gently.

Lu Feng didn’t answer and looked down at the piece of paper that Polly Joan was holding. Polly’s fingers trembled slightly and he flattened the paper with a few words written on it. An Zhe’s handwriting wasn’t beautiful but the points were simple and clear, like a lake in spring.

“Polly, thank you for your care. I’m the inert sample of the Northern Base and my frequency might help you. If not, sorry. Also, please remember our agreement.”

Polly Joan asked, “Is he really that inert sample?”

“The sample is part of him.” Lu Feng’s fingers took the white note, his voice slightly hoarse. “What did you agree on?”

Polly replied, “If one day, the Northern Base’s judges come here… just say that An Zhe has left.”

Lu Feng’s eyes turned red. Then heavy footsteps were heard behind him. It was a dark-skinned Indian man. Rum held An Zhe’s backpack and silently handed it to Lu Feng. There were some things neatly packed in the backpack. The base’s monthly magazine, a silver cross star badge and a black gun.

Lu Feng’s fingers grasped the backpack and he lowered his head, staring at the contents inside but not seeing them clearly.

“He was picked up by our people on the Abyss… he was a good boy and did well here.” Looking at the other person, Polly whispered, “I know the base couldn’t hold him. Did you always know he was here?”

Lu Feng’s eyes finally moved from the backpack to Polly Joan.

“I didn’t know,” he said.

Polly Joan’s eyes were trembling and they closed in pain. “I’m sorry.”