IABI – Chapter 107 Humanity’s Counterattack (8)

Even when he sensed someone approaching, Lou Chen still didn’t react. He sat upright on the tree branch, like a lifeless statue.

Chi Xin tilted her long blade and flicked off the blood flowing along it.

Only a few steps remained before she could reach Lou Chen, yet she still didn’t dare to relax her guard.

“Lou Chen?” she called out tentatively.

There was no response. He didn’t even look at her.

A trace of gravity appeared between Chi Xin’s brows as she cautiously took a step forward.

With a sharp swish, Lou Chen—who had looked like an old monk in meditation—suddenly twisted his head around. His blood-red eyes locked straight onto Chi Xin.

Chi Xin’s heart jolted. She flipped her wrist and swung the long blade behind her back, then gently extended an arm toward him.

“Lou Chen, it’s me—Chi Xin. Do you still recognize me?”

She didn’t know whether it was just her imagination, but she felt as if a deeply buried ripple flashed through the depths of Lou Chen’s eyes.

Even if it was only the faintest trace, Chi Xin was unwilling to give up that hope. She stepped forward another two paces, until she was almost standing right in front of him.

Carefully, softly, she placed her hand on top of Lou Chen’s head.

Even after knowing Lou Chen for so long, Chi Xin had never touched his head before. Beneath her hand was fine, soft hair. She recalled something her mother once said—that people with soft hair also have soft hearts. So perhaps, even though Lou Chen had grown into a cynical, world-weary, chuunibyou teenager, the kindness deep in his heart had never truly been worn away.

On the city wall a hundred meters away, the narrow lens of a military telescope clearly captured the scene on the other side.

The broad, elongated ice bridge was like a rainbow bridge leading to a divine realm. At the end of the bridge, the girl holding a long blade was exceedingly gentle, her hand resting on the head of the boy sitting on a tree branch. The scene carried an almost sacred radiance.

“She can really get close to the zombie king?” Yu Shizhao murmured in shock. “She… is she really human?”

He looked toward Xiao Li and Jing Xiubai beside him. Lian Tianrui was clutching his head and cowering at the base of the wall—no one had the time to care what he was thinking.

“Whether she’s human has nothing to do with her physiology,” Jing Xiubai said, “but with what she’s done.”

He reinforced the ice bridge once more. Soldiers were already stepping onto it, beginning high-altitude combat.

Turning back to Yu Shizhao, Jing Xiubai let a small chunk of ice form in his palm right in front of him, then casually tossed it out, knocking over a zombie that was climbing up. “Brother Yu, what she’s showing right now is also power beyond ordinary humans. And those espers who’ve been protecting the base all this time—they, like you, have spilled blood and sweat on this land. Would you really dwell on whether she’s human, whether they’re human?”

Yu Shizhao narrowed his eyes, shock flickering across his expression.

“Yu Chengji.”

A slightly hoarse, weary voice sounded. Yu Shizhao turned his head to look at the man toward whom his feelings were extremely complicated.

Xiao Li was also looking at him. The eyes that usually locked onto prey like a tiger or leopard softened, reminding Yu Shizhao of the soldier who had once returned from outside carrying the head of a high-level zombie, his body filled with the scent of sunlight.

“She is special. Only she is the one who is unique and indispensable,” Xiao Li said, his tone as resolute as when issuing orders on the battlefield, leaving no room at all for rebuttal. “You, me—anyone else can die easily. The survivors will continue to struggle for humanity’s fate. But she cannot.”

“What do you mean?” Yu Shizhao’s political instincts had already sensed what Xiao Li intended to say. With an odd mixture of anticipation and overwhelming disbelief, he asked the question.

“How could Yu Chengji not know what I’m about to say?” Xiao Li smiled faintly. “Haven’t you always had issues with me—thinking I’m overly ambitious, climbing upward recklessly, risking my life to rack up military merit? You suspect I harbor wolfish ambitions, that I intend to split the base and bring destruction to humanity’s largest survivor stronghold.”

Yu Shizhao pressed his lips together. “I have no objections to you. I only have some complaints about certain people under your command.”

As he spoke, he glanced again at Lian Tianrui at his feet.

“Whether you do or don’t, it doesn’t matter. I didn’t mind before, and I still don’t now—because there has only ever been one purpose behind my climbing upward.”

He slowly extended one arm, then abruptly straightened it, the powerful lines of muscle taut, pointing toward the far end of the ice bridge—toward Chi Xin.

“From this moment on, including myself, everyone under my line will be under Chi Xin’s command. Even if she wants to be placed under your banner, there will be no resentment whatsoever. There is only one condition.” Xiao Li’s voice was very light, carrying the hoarseness of a hero in his twilight years, yet still brimming with strength, like a leopard ready to spring at any time. “You must give her sufficient respect. You must not force her.”

Yu Shizhao’s breath caught in his throat. For a long while, he couldn’t exhale.

He asked, word by word, “Do you know what you’re saying?”

Xiao Li withdrew his hand, steadying himself against the city wall. His tone was calm. “You didn’t hear a single word wrong.”

Yu Shizhao looked into the distance, then at Xiao Li before him, then at Jing Xiubai—who showed no sign of surprise at all. The image of his own foolish younger brother, who had been fiercely defending Chi Xin, flashed through his mind. An incredulous expression surfaced on his face.

“I know how outstanding she is,” he murmured. “But all of you protecting her unconditionally—Xiao Li, the power you’ve fought for with blade and gun over the past two years… you’re giving it all to her?”

“I said it already. It was all for her to begin with,” Xiao Li replied. “If you agree, then it’s settled.”

Yu Shizhao’s expression hadn’t even fully faded when Xiao Li seemed to have completed some long-cherished wish. The tightly coiled muscles throughout his body suddenly relaxed. The instant he did, his face changed, and he began coughing violently.

“Cough—cough! Cough, cough, cough!”

Jing Xiubai reached out to support him. Xiao Li pushed him away, lifting his eyes to keep looking at Yu Shizhao. “Every word I said counts—even if I die.”

Before Yu Shizhao could respond, Jing Xiubai looked up and spotted a girl hurrying up the stairs. He immediately waved to her. “Over here!”

Jiang Congyun saw him and ran over, saying as she did, “Sorry I’m a bit late. I ran into a few severely injured soldiers on the way.”

Yu Shizhao: “And who is this?”

“Our healer,” Jing Xiubai replied, grabbing Xiao Li and shoving him straight in front of Jiang Congyun. “Take a look at him.”

“Major General, Chengji—there seems to be a change over there!”

A soldier fighting on the ice bridge suddenly turned back and shouted.

At once, several of them rushed back to the edge of the city wall, grabbing binoculars and looking across.

While they had been talking, Chi Xin was still facing off against Lou Chen.

She had tried touching his head and met no resistance. Just as joy rose in her heart, she noticed that his expression hadn’t changed at all. The smile that was about to form flattened again.

At this height, the ice bridge made Lou Chen look as though he were sitting on a chair. Chi Xin bent down to meet his gaze, her hands shifting to cup his cheeks.

“Lou Chen, look at me. You’ve followed me all over the world for so long—don’t tell me you don’t recognize me now?”

Chi Xin noticed that whenever she spoke Lou Chen’s name, there would be an almost imperceptible fluctuation deep in his eyes, only to be pressed down again by indifference.

She hesitated for a brief moment, then immediately opened her mouth, calling his name over and over again.

“Lou Chen. Lou Chen. Lou Chen.”

“Lou Chen, wake up. You’re someone with independent thoughts. You’re not a combat machine under their control. Your will is incredibly strong—wake up, break free from them.”

“Lou Chen, come back to us. Come back.”

Chi Xin felt a surge of joy as she realized that with every word she spoke, the turbulence in Lou Chen’s eyes grew stronger and more obvious.

Just as she was about to press on, Lou Chen’s face suddenly twitched, revealing a stiff, eerie smile.

Chi Xin withdrew her hand and stepped back.

The pure malice in those blood-colored eyes gradually surfaced. Chi Xin quietly tightened her grip on the knife.

“Get out of Lou Chen’s body,” she said coldly.

Lou Chen—no, the thing wearing Lou Chen’s shell—let out a twisted laugh. “You’re a little smarter than I imagined. Why don’t you guess that I am him?”

“If Lou Chen were able to respond, he would have done so just now,” Chi Xin sneered. “What, can’t keep him suppressed anymore, so you decided to come out yourself?”

“What a troublesome bad child.” “Lou Chen” sighed theatrically. “I thought he’d been completely scared into submission. Who knew that the moment he heard you call his name, he’d immediately try to defy me again. How can he be so stupid?”

As if he didn’t notice the sudden darkening of Chi Xin’s expression, he continued with a smile. “But it’s fine. No matter how hard a foolish child struggles, he’s still a foolish child. Trying to rebel against the ‘father’ who gave him everything is just a bit too delusional.”

The moment his words fell, a sharp blade was pressed against his throat.

The smile vanished from “Lou Chen’s” face. He lifted his head and looked at the girl holding the knife.

“If you want to be Lou Chen’s father, you’re not qualified,” Chi Xin said, holding the knife in one hand, the blade less than a millimeter from cutting his throat. “I’ll say it again—get out of his body.”

“Haha. Hahahahahaha!”

Chi Xin narrowed her eyes.

After laughing, “Lou Chen” didn’t retreat—instead, he advanced, clamping one hand around the blade.

He squeezed so hard that his knuckles turned white, and a deep, gaping wound instantly split his palm. Chi Xin’s wrist trembled, and fearing she might sever Lou Chen’s Achilles tendon, she forcefully pulled the knife back.

“Lou Chen” didn’t pursue her. He simply sat there, watching her, his expression steeped in gloomy malice. “Go on. I’d really like to see what you can do if I don’t leave.”

He even jumped down from the tree branch, landing on the icy surface, slowly approaching Chi Xin.

“I’m standing right here, Chi Xin. What are you going to do?”

“I’m using Lou Chen’s body. Can you bear to hurt him? To hurt this child who’s been controlled by me his entire life? When I caught him, he was terrified—but the moment you were mentioned, he cried and begged me not to hurt you.”

Chi Xin’s eyelashes trembled.

“Lou Chen” continued, “He’s a natural-born psychic. Normally, I wouldn’t be able to control him at all. So why do you think he would willingly give up resisting and let me control him, Chi Xin? Why do you think that is?”

Seeing Chi Xin remain silent, “Lou Chen” laughed smugly. That smile on Lou Chen’s face made Chi Xin recall a scene.

Back then, in the prison at Donglu Fortress, Lou Chen had been sharp-tongued but soft-hearted—mocking her even as he shielded them from Holley’s psychic assault.

At the time, Lou Chen thought she rejected him and deliberately avoided him, refusing to let him see her—until Chi Xin told him she didn’t reject him and promised him that everyone he couldn’t forgive would inevitably be punished.

That smile of Lou Chen’s back then was just like now—innocent and sincere, like a child pampered by family.

She had promised him that they would all be punished.

Chi Xin took a deep breath.

Sensing the change in her aura, “Lou Chen” stopped laughing and looked at her coldly.

When he didn’t smile, even wearing Lou Chen’s face, he exuded a sinister air—eyes filled with pure coldness and calculation.

“You think that hiding inside Lou Chen’s body means I can’t do anything to you?” Chi Xin sheathed her blade. To “Lou Chen’s” astonishment, she instead stepped closer. “Do you know why you had such excellent resources, yet after all this time still haven’t realized your dream of ruling the world? Because your vision is too small.”

“What did you say?” “Lou Chen” asked darkly.

“I said you’re short-sighted, like a rat peering at the sky from the bottom of a well. Narrow-minded, exhausted of schemes, and lacking in wisdom.” Chi Xin suddenly sharpened her tone, her piercing gaze bearing down on him. “You’ve taken control of Lou Chen’s body, but have you even used one percent of his abilities? Lou Chen’s psychic attacks are powerful enough to severely injure even me—yet still allow nearby humans to survive. And you? How pitiful. You wanted Jing Xiubai, yet you couldn’t even touch the hem of his clothes. You wanted to control Lou Chen, but even when Lou Chen voluntarily gave up resisting, you still dared not fully use his power. Do you really think you’re capable of ruling the world? On what grounds? On the grounds of your cowardice—your fear of even standing before me in your true form?”

“—Raphael!”

Chi Xin suddenly roared out his true name. Her voice carried the force of an attack, making “Lou Chen” involuntarily stumble back a step.

He jerked his head up. The cold indifference on his face vanished, replaced by a twisted expression.

“You know me.”

“Not only do I know you,” Chi Xin said, “I want to kill you—so you’ll never again stand above all life in the world, doing things worse than beasts.”

Chi Xin stepped forward, placing herself directly in front of Raphael. Ignoring the hand he raised, she reached out with one hand and viciously clamped it around his slender throat.

“Ugh!”

A look of pain surfaced on “Lou Chen’s” face. Chi Xin hardened her heart—she not only didn’t let go, she used her other hand to forcibly turn his face toward her, making him look straight at her.

“Lou Chen, I know you’re still in there. Look at me—I’m here to help you. Didn’t you want all these people to be punished? How can giving up resistance fulfill that wish? Wake up—wake up!”

“Heh… heh heh.” Chi Xin hadn’t gone for the kill, so “Lou Chen” could still force out a hoarse rasp from his throat. He looked at Chi Xin mockingly. “He was scared senseless by me long ago. You’re just wasting your effort.”

As he spoke, he reached out to claw at Chi Xin. His grasp tore her hair into disarray, and vivid red wounds bloomed across her face and neck. Yet she didn’t move an inch. She automatically filtered out Raphael’s bullshit and fixed her gaze firmly on Lou Chen’s eyes.

“Lou Chen, Lou Chen—don’t give up,” she said. “If even you give up, then I have no reason left to help you. Look at the monster strutting around in your body right now—is this you? Is this what you want to become?!”

“Lou Chen!”

She forced him back against the tree trunk. Along with her furious shout, “Lou Chen’s” expression changed abruptly. The blood-red in his eyes was like a stone dropped into still water, rippling violently!

“You… you actually…” “Lou Chen” said in shock. “…have this much influence on him…”

Chi Xin’s expression was grave. “Lou Chen, you possess stronger abilities than anyone else. Be yourself again—force this demon occupying your body out. You can do it!”

“Lou Chen” let out a piercing scream.

The scream was long and hoarse, echoing across the entire battlefield.

Chi Xin was closest to him. If she were an ordinary person, her ears would probably have gone deaf by now. Even she felt a ringing in her eardrums, but she kept her eyes locked on him, unwilling to miss even the slightest hope.

“Lou Chen!”

She called out again. In an instant, the blood-red color in “Lou Chen’s” eyes receded.

A faint bluish pallor surfaced once more, while the remnants of blood-red fought fiercely against it.

Chi Xin released his neck and instead gripped his shoulders. “Come on, Lou Chen—finish him. Squeeze him out!”

“I… never should have… let him see you.” A look of unwillingness appeared on “Lou Chen’s” face. He gave Chi Xin one last look, then closed his eyes.

Chi Xin’s heart jolted. Then a shrill screech swept in. Above Lou Chen’s head, a pale golden shadow slowly emerged.

Golden hair, a handsome yet gloomy face, even wearing a white lab coat—this was unmistakably Raphael himself.

“Do you really think you’ve won?” He floated above Lou Chen, sneering coldly at Chi Xin. “Chi Xin, take your spoils and go back. Sooner or later, one day you all—”

Before he could finish, Chi Xin reached out again and clamped a hand around his throat.

A look like he’d swallowed a fly appeared on Raphael’s translucent face. In disbelief, he raised his spirit-formed hand to look at it, then struggled to lift his eyes to Chi Xin.

“That’s impossible…”

“Yes. Whatever you’re about to say—impossible.”

Chi Xin said it expressionlessly, then her arm muscles bulged as she tightened her grip with savage force.

With a loud bang, whatever constituted Raphael’s spirit—or consciousness—burst apart, turning into a wisp of blue smoke that vanished, unwillingness still frozen on his face.

Chi Xin didn’t spare him a glance. Her expression turned anxious as she caught Lou Chen, who was sliding downward.

“Lou Chen! How are you?” She half-crouched, letting him rest against her. “Don’t be afraid—you’re back. I’ll take you to get treatment right now. Don’t be afraid.”

“Chi… Xin.”

Lou Chen barely opened his eyes to a thin slit—the familiar color Chi Xin knew so well. She finally relaxed and answered gently, “I’m here.”

Lou Chen laboriously raised a hand and brushed it over her tightly knit brows.

“I beat him,” he said softly. “I… didn’t let you down, right?”

Chi Xin felt her throat choke. “You didn’t.”

Lou Chen smiled in relief. Then his head tilted, and he collapsed straight into Chi Xin’s arms.

“Chi Xin!”

Jing Xiubai’s hurried, breathless voice rang out. He had actually come down from the city wall and rushed all the way over. Squatting in front of Chi Xin, he first checked her face.

“Jing Xiubai?” Chi Xin snapped out of her daze.

“It’s over. Come on.” Jing Xiubai reached out to take Lou Chen. “Let’s go back and have my father check his condition.”

Right—on their side, there was still Professor Jing. Even if Raphael’s cult-like methods hadn’t worked on him, at least Lou Chen wasn’t completely without hope.

Chi Xin forced herself to stay alert. She raised her hand, avoiding Jing Xiubai’s arm. “I’ll do it myself.”

Jing Xiubai knew her stubbornness. He silently withdrew his hand and watched as she lifted Lou Chen into her arms.

Fortunately, Lou Chen wasn’t as tall as Rong Feng—so there was no repeat of the earlier farce where Rong Feng’s hands and feet dragged on the ground.

Just as Chi Xin picked Lou Chen up, she caught sight of his dangling hand and paused.

That hand had gripped her blade earlier. The wound was still there, yet not a single drop of blood flowed.

A flicker of doubt passed through her mind, but Lou Chen’s safety claimed most of her attention. She lifted her leg and headed toward the ice bridge.

As Lou Chen fell unconscious, the zombies that had been relentlessly attacking the city seemed to receive a unified command. They halted briefly, then turned in unison and retreated into the forest as massively as they had arrived.

The zombie horde surged away beneath their feet, while Chi Xin, carrying one man in her arms, walked against the tide.

Just like when she had charged out over the ice bridge, this scene etched itself deeply into the eyes of everyone on the city wall once again.

She jumped down from the wall. Carrying a man posed no difficulty for her; her movements were still clean and unrestrained.

“Xin Xin.”

Hearing the familiar voice, Chi Xin glanced downward. Xiao Li was sitting against the base of the wall with one leg bent. When he saw her look over, he smiled back at her.

In front of him, Jiang Congyun’s hands glowed with a milky white light. Bathed in that radiance, the color had clearly returned to Xiao Li’s lips.

“Chengji!”

Yan Wei, who had been below the wall the whole time, hurried over. He froze for a moment at the bizarre sight. “What do we do now?”

“I need to see Professor Jing,” Chi Xin replied to Yu Shizhao’s questioning gaze.

Yu Shizhao silently shifted his eyes to Lou Chen in her arms.

“He was just being controlled. He’s one of ours,” Chi Xin said, showing no intention of handing Lou Chen over.

Yu Shizhao sighed quietly. “I’ll have a vehicle arranged for you.”

Chi Xin nodded, then said to Xiao Li and Jiang Congyun, “Treat your injuries first. After that, come find me at Professor Jing’s.”

She issued these instructions as if it were only natural—to an extremely rare healing-type esper and a young major general.

Yet neither the ones being instructed nor the survivors around them felt there was anything amiss.

Those being ordered around even looked pleased. “We will.”

Still worried about Lou Chen’s condition, Chi Xin quickened her steps toward the base of the wall.

Wherever she passed, people silently parted to either side. And when Chi Xin walked by, anyone wearing a hat removed it in unison.

Among the crowd, Chi Xin spotted the esper squad that had hitched a ride with them earlier.

She paused as she passed them.

The members of the squad looked nervous, standing carefully in front of her, waiting for her to speak.

“I don’t know what your side effects are,” Chi Xin said. “Pay close attention yourselves. Be careful—don’t push too hard.”

The fire-using esper Chi Xin remembered first looked flattered, then let out a bitter smile. “If we don’t fight back with everything we have, we’ll be killed by zombies before the side effects kill us.”

“This problem may be solved someday. Until then, stay alive first.” Chi Xin’s gaze fell on Lou Chen in her arms.

“What?!”

The espers looked at each other in disbelief. “You… you really mean that?”

Chi Xin turned to look at Jing Xiubai, who had been following her closely.

“We’ll do our best,” he said.

Escorted all the way down from the wall, Chi Xin laid Lou Chen flat across the back seat of a military off-road vehicle, then took the front passenger seat.

“Yu Xiang, are you there?” Chi Xin pressed her earpiece.

“I’m here—what do you need, Sister Chi?” Yu Xiang replied, panting.

“Go find Congyun. She’s treating Xiao Li right now. You’ve worked with Xiao Li’s group before—go help her out.”

“Roger,” Yu Xiang said.

Jing Xiubai started the vehicle.

As they drove, he spoke up. “You gave those espers hope—were you afraid they’d deliberately burn themselves out?”

“I did see some of them attack zombies in what was basically a suicidal way on the battlefield,” Chi Xin said, looking ahead. “Now things are moving in a better direction. I want more people to live long enough to see the sun after the apocalypse. Don’t waste lives for nothing—out here, that’s still a pretty extravagant thing.”

Jing Xiubai drove quickly. People in the base seemed to know the battle had been won; faint cheers could be heard along the way.

The off-road vehicle drove all the way back to the building they had set out from and came to a stop.