IABI -Chapter 116 Humanity’s Counterattack (17)

Chi Xin could no longer remember how long it had been since she had last experienced the sensation of being forcibly knocked unconscious.

Lou Chen—truly worthy of being that thing.

She clenched her teeth and silently repeated the name in her heart.

The pitch-black darkness lasted only a few seconds, yet when her consciousness gradually returned, it felt as though a long time had passed—an illusion caused by the lingering dizziness.

In her hazy awareness, Chi Xin felt herself being carried while someone was running.

Yu Xiang’s heavy breathing echoed in her ears.

That’s right. In the domain of the spiritual world, Lou Chen was invincible. But after possessing Yu Xiang, he was instead constrained by this body. If he wanted to escape the base, he could only rely on his legs.

This guy actually didn’t command the zombie horde to attack the base and then slip away amid the chaos?

The thought flashed through her mind. She felt her body suddenly go light, the arm holding her tightening instead, as though he had leapt over something.

“Ah!”

Lou Chen let out a small cry, and immediately afterward, their direction skewed sharply.

He instinctively pulled Chi Xin tightly into his arms, turning himself underneath her as a cushion. His eyes closed as they were about to slam into the ground.

Chi Xin sighed inwardly.

The two of them hit the ground with a dull thud. Lou Chen bared his teeth as he opened his eyes, the first thing he did being to check whether Chi Xin had fallen badly. As he lowered his head, he met a pair of open eyes.

“!”

Chi Xin could clearly see Lou Chen’s pupils shake violently.

She knew exactly where Lou Chen’s true strength lay. While he was still stunned by the fact that she had woken up ahead of time and hadn’t yet reacted, a baseball bat appeared directly in her hand.

“Sorry,” Chi Xin said, showing no mercy as she swung it down hard.

Lou Chen’s face was full of disbelief. The blow sent his eyes rolling back as he slowly closed them.

Chi Xin crawled out of his now-limp arms, hoisted the baseball bat onto her shoulder, looked down at the unconscious man, and spoke the apology she truly owed:

“Yu Xiang.”

Lou Chen’s grand and dramatic plan to abduct someone came to an end before he even made it out of the base.

Chi Xin looked around, confirmed her bearings, then slung Yu Xiang’s body over her shoulder and turned back the way she had come.

To ensure they wouldn’t be disturbed, the residence Yu Shizhao had arranged for them earlier was extremely remote and quiet. Normally, no one passed by at all. This, however, resulted in the awkward situation where they had all collapsed there without anyone noticing.

By the time Chi Xin carried Yu Xiang back, the people who had only suffered a single mental shock had just woken up on the ground.

They were holding their heads and groaning, while Jiang Congyun was giving them soothing treatment.

When they saw Chi Xin carrying someone back, everyone turned to look at her in unison. Once they realized the situation, their expressions all became complicated and subtle.

Yu Shizhao swayed as he stood up, went straight toward Chi Xin, and carefully took Yu Xiang’s body from her arms.

“Brother Yu, don’t take him straight back yet,” Jing Xiubai said. After quickly checking Chi Xin over and confirming she wasn’t injured, he turned to Yu Shizhao. “We still can’t be sure whether the soul inside is Yu Xiang or Lou Chen.”

“That bastard,” Yu Shizhao’s eyes were red as he ground his teeth. “We’ve already shown him every possible kindness, and he still—he still…”

“This was our oversight,” Chi Xin said apologetically. “I always thought he had figured things out. I didn’t expect that he still—”

“This isn’t your fault,” Jing Xiubai said. “His upbringing was far too twisted. No one could guess what he was thinking.” He glanced at Yu Xiang’s complexion. “Take him to my father first. We have a way to restrain him.”

Yu Shizhao nodded stiffly, carried Yu Xiang back to the car they had arrived in, and personally drove him away.

After Yu Shizhao left, the others looked at Chi Xin, their gazes all carrying a certain subtlety.

Chi Xin briefly checked their conditions. Jiang Congyun, who was still treating Yongning, wore a deeply ashamed expression. “Xin Xin, I know my ability can affect his powers, but I couldn’t withstand it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Chi Xin said. “Your ability isn’t in the same category as his. He even said himself that you’re not good at defending against mental-type attacks.” She looked seriously at Jiang Congyun until the deep guilt in her eyes gradually faded.

“Is that so…” Jiang Congyun’s body went slack. “I thought I was the one who got everyone hurt…”

“Silly girl.” Chi Xin gently patted her hair.

After confirming that everyone was basically fine, Chi Xin stood up, also preparing to head to the research institute. The moment she rose, the strange looks from the others all focused on her, becoming even more conspicuous.

Chi Xin scratched her cheek. “What’s wrong with you all?”

“Sister Chi really is Sister Chi,” Yongning said, hugging her knees and tilting her head at Chi Xin. “Who would’ve thought even the Zombie King would be hopelessly in love with you.”

Chi Xin’s mouth twitched.

“If Yu Xiang were still awake, he’d probably say something like, ‘Why fight at all? Just send Master out and that’ll be enough,’” Han Zimo said lazily from the ground, lifting a hand. “Honestly, I’m kind of looking forward to him coming back just to see if he’d really say that.”

Chi Xin silently covered her face.

“It’s probably better if he doesn’t find out what Lou Chen did with his body,” she muttered. Even as she complained, she knew that was impossible. Without wasting more time, she turned to Jing Xiubai, who had been following her. “Let’s go too.”

Jing Xiubai was already very used to acting as Chi Xin’s driver. When the two of them entered the research institute, they heard Yu Shizhao’s tightly suppressed voice.

“What do you mean it can’t be separated?”

They exchanged a glance and quickened their pace. Inside the ward where Lou Chen had previously stayed now lay Yu Xiang’s body.

“It’s that it can’t be forcibly separated,” Professor Jing said gravely, explaining patiently. “Spirit and soul are areas modern medicine hasn’t touched. Right now, none of us knows who is actually controlling this body. Even if we find Lou Chen’s consciousness, how exactly would we expel it?”

“If we find the Zombie King’s consciousness, can we just erase it?” Yu Shizhao said coldly.

“In theory, erasing him would be even more difficult than expelling him,” Professor Jing replied.

“Then does that mean there’s no way to deal with it?” Yu Shizhao slammed his fist against the glass, staring at the person inside. “Do we just let that bastard occupy my brother’s body, while my brother himself doesn’t know which corner he’s curled up in?”

That feeling of being able to control the world yet unable to save even a single person was unbearably tragic. Chi Xin stopped in her tracks, unable to step forward.

Jing Xiubai paused, then strode over. “It’s just that we can’t forcibly separate them. Give us some time—it can be done.”

Yu Shizhao froze, then looked up at him in confusion, a hint of pleading in his eyes. “Really?”

Jing Xiubai nodded firmly. “After suspecting that Lou Chen might be a spiritual entity, we haven’t been idle. The equipment for dealing with mental phenomena isn’t fully developed yet, but at this point, we don’t have the luxury of waiting for clinical trials.”

He looked up at his father. “Bring out the vertical helmet.”

Professor Jing glanced at Yu Xiang. “The helmet hasn’t been tested yet. What effects it might have on a human body—we can’t determine that right now.”

“What does the vertical helmet do?” Yu Shizhao asked.

“Actually, we had anticipated the possibility of Lou Chen’s spiritual body suddenly disappearing, and prepared contingency plans. The vertical helmet is, in theory, a device capable of suppressing his mental abilities and restricting their use,” Jing Xiubai said, his gaze darkening. “But he disappeared too suddenly, and we never got the chance to put it into use.”

“If he wears that helmet, will it affect Yu Xiang himself?” Chi Xin couldn’t help asking.

Hearing her voice, Yu Shizhao looked at her in a daze. The overly complicated look in his eyes made Chi Xin unable to meet his gaze.

Lou Chen had taken over Yu Xiang’s body because of her. If this matter wasn’t resolved completely, she didn’t know how she could face the Yu family.

Jing Xiubai subtly shifted his position, half-shielding her behind him. “When we were developing it, we considered what effects it might have if worn by Lou Chen’s body. But due to a lack of data, we don’t know for sure.”

His tone was calm. “The only thing we can be certain of is that once the vertical helmet is on, Yu Xiang’s consciousness won’t be expelled by Lou Chen. The downside is that since they currently share the same body, what kind of outcome it will produce is impossible to predict.”

Both Chi Xin and Yu Shizhao fell silent.

Chi Xin turned her head to look at Yu Xiang through the glass window. She desperately wished he would suddenly jump up, flash that signature grin full of white teeth, and say in that irritatingly smug tone, “Surprise! That little brat can’t beat me at all.” Her attention was then drawn to Yu Shizhao’s struggling expression.

For him, making any decision at all was harder than formulating strategies on the battlefield.

But just like a doctor laying out treatment options, the final choice still had to be made by the family—or the patient.

Now the patient couldn’t speak. Life and death rested entirely on Yu Shizhao’s shoulders.

The light in Yu Shizhao’s eyes flickered for a long moment. He took a deep breath and pressed his forehead against the glass.

“This isn’t the time to cling to experimental data,” he said, closing his eyes before opening them with resolve. “Do as Xiubai says. Whatever the consequences… I’ll bear them.”

“Alright.” Jing Xiubai agreed without hesitation and immediately had the vertical helmet brought into the ward.

Though called a helmet, it lived up to the word “vertical.” Compared to a helmet, the device looked more like a nutrition pod. Perhaps because it was designed specifically for Lou Chen, its activation was accompanied by heavy locking sounds.

The researchers carefully placed Yu Xiang’s body inside. A red light lit up at the top and began to flicker faintly.

“They’re still there,” Jing Xiubai said. “And because the two souls share one body yet are incompatible, the indicator light is unstable.”

Chi Xin nearly pressed herself against the glass, watching the bustle inside. “Lou Chen’s consciousness—can it still make contact with the outside world now?”

Jing Xiubai looked at her. “You’re… worried that he might contact the zombies?”

Chi Xin nodded. “That’s what I’m most worried about.”

“He won’t,” Jing Xiubai said. “This body is now their prison. Before we find a way to separate Lou Chen, none of them can get out.”

“That’s good.” Chi Xin let out a small breath.

At that moment, she felt a gaze fix on her. Her back stiffened, and she turned around to look at the person watching her.

Yu Shizhao’s expression was complicated, though his tone was relatively calm. “Miss Chi, I hope this matter won’t affect the plans going forward.”

Chi Xin had originally thought she would be facing Yu Shizhao’s anger and resentment. Hearing this instead, she froze for a moment.

“About Yu Xiang… no one caused this,” Yu Shizhao said. “The only one at fault is the Zombie King. I have no intention of implicating innocent people, but I also hope that, for now, this matter won’t reach my father’s ears. Is that possible? I’m worried he’s getting on in years and won’t be able to bear it.”

A wave of bitterness surged up in Chi Xin’s chest. As a brother, a son, and a leader all at once, for Yu Shizhao to think this way was truly rare.

“I won’t mention it to Uncle Yu,” she said. Seeing the exhaustion on Yu Shizhao’s face, she couldn’t help adding, “Brother Yu, the most important things right now—besides Yu Xiang—are finding Raphael’s location. As long as we know where he is, all the current problems can be solved.”

Yu Shizhao nodded and looked at Jing Xiubai. “Xiubai, this period will be hard on you.”

Jing Xiubai, who was about to be run ragged, silently nodded.

Suddenly, a faint current crackled through Chi Xin’s earpiece, followed by Xiao Li’s voice. “Chi Xin, where are you?”

Only then did Chi Xin realize that in all the chaos she hadn’t seen Xiao Li at all. Guessing he must have discovered something, she immediately replied, “I’m at the research institute.”

“Are Yu Shizhao and Jing Xiubai there too?”

Chi Xin glanced at the other two. “They are. Something happened here—do we need to return to the administrative building?”

“No need. I’m very close to the institute. I’m heading over now.”

There was a sense of gathering storm in Xiao Li’s voice that made Chi Xin tense as well. She told the other two that Xiao Li was coming, and the three of them casually sat on the corridor benches for a while.

With things so tangled, none of them felt like talking. Before long, Xiao Li arrived. Dressed in military uniform, broad-shouldered and long-legged, he strode in from the end of the corridor. Seeing that all three were present, his expression did not relax in the slightest.

True to a soldier’s style, he offered no preamble and went straight to the point.

“We’ve detected abnormal movement to the east. Large numbers of zombies have suddenly been summoned and are moving in that direction.” Xiao Li looked around and lowered his voice. “I suspect something happened on Lou Chen’s side. Is he still here?”

The three of them fell silent at the same time.

Given the current situation, this news was nothing short of adding frost to snow.

From their reactions, Xiao Li caught on to something. “So Lou Chen really is gone?”

“It would actually be more complicated if he were still here,” Jing Xiubai said as he stood up. “There’s no time to waste. The eastern side is exactly the area where I previously inferred Raphael might be. If he’s found a way to command zombies without relying on Lou Chen, we’ll be in a very passive position.”

Chi Xin also understood the gravity of the situation. She glanced at the scene through the glass window, then looked back at Jing Xiubai. “Professor Jing and Sai Ruo are here to handle things on this side, but over there, the only one who can operate is you.”

“Don’t worry.” Jing Xiubai hesitated for a moment, then still reached out and placed a hand on Chi Xin’s shoulder—just as Chi Xin had done for others every time she gave them hope. He tightened his grip slightly. “I’ll find where he is. No matter what—this world, and Yu Xiang, will both be fine.”

Chi Xin reached out and clasped that hand. The faint unease and fear in her heart were soothed, like hot wine poured over ice—scalding, with a sharp, spicy edge.

She closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she was once more the Chi Xin who would slay even the Buddha if he stood in her way, the Chi Xin for whom no obstacle was insurmountable.

“Let’s move,” Chi Xin said. “No matter what happens, we can’t just sit and wait for death. Brother Yu, the situation is urgent now. We must prioritize the bigger picture—please take care of stabilizing and deploying forces within the city.” She then turned to Xiao Li. “An all-out siege may break out soon. Be prepared—coordinate Fan Fu and Qiu Zhu’s people and hold this line of defense.”

“Yes!”

“Understood.”

Both responded at once.

“As for me,” Chi Xin said, “over the next few days, assign the most dangerous scouting and rescue missions to me.” She raised a hand to stop Yu Shizhao from speaking and turned to look him squarely in the eyes. “Only on the battlefield can I发挥 my greatest value. With you holding the city, that’s enough.”

Yu Shizhao was already persuaded, though he still hesitated slightly. At that moment, Jing Xiubai patted him and spoke a single sentence that struck the point home. “By rank, you should be listening to her.”

Yu Shizhao shot him a glare, then turned back and formally acknowledged the order, stating that he would definitely complete the mission.

Chi Xin had always been helpless against his stiff, by-the-book manner, and at this moment she didn’t say anything more.

With directives issued from the very top, the entire base became like a massive machine, every gear beginning to turn with precision. The people in the base didn’t know exactly what had happened, but they could all sense that a great battle was imminent.

Over the next period of time, several more teams arrived. Some had been persuaded—or lured—by Rong Feng, but even more had come after hearing Chi Xin’s call, voluntarily joining the resistance.

As more and more people poured in, the base’s internal space neared saturation. Yu Shizhao had no choice but to arrange camps outside the base, which finally allowed the large influx of troops to be settled.

With more people came a major advantage: before zombies could even get close, they were quickly wiped out. The spider zombies in the forest and various mutated animals were also unlucky victims. There was no need to send out special squads to clear them—some bored individuals took the initiative themselves and thoroughly razed their nests.

With Chi Xin’s frequent appearances, all the newcomers came to know this woman who looked gentle and harmless on the outside, yet whose strikes were unstoppable once she moved. They learned that she was the war god whose name had spread far and wide throughout the apocalypse.

“So Goddess Chi doesn’t actually have three heads and six arms, nor a green face with fangs.”

Chi Xin leapt nimbly through the forest, her figure hunting spider zombies reflected in the eyes of those below. An esper murmured in a daze.

“If she’d just look at me once, I’d be willing to offer up a month’s worth of meat,” another said.

One had to know that at this stage of the apocalypse, getting even a proper bite of meat was extremely difficult. Only those who made great contributions had the right to enjoy it. To wager such a thing showed just how deep his obsession ran.

Just as he finished speaking, Chi Xin vaulted over their heads. A curved blade flew from her hand, striking a spider squarely behind them.

Her sharp gaze swept over the two of them. “Stay alert!”

Then she swept past like a gust of wind.

After she left, the two stood staring at each other.

“Did Goddess Chi really just come over?”

“Was that really the goddess?”

“Take the meat—take it all. I have no regrets in this life… sob sob sob.”

Chi Xin had no idea what happened afterward. She stopped in a clearing as the others gathered toward her. She pressed her earpiece. “Eastern sector cleared. Not a single small spider was spared. There shouldn’t be any activity for a while.”

“Received. Western sector also cleared,” Xiao Li replied.

By now, dusk was falling. Chi Xin lifted her head and glanced at the blood-red sun in the west, then turned back. “The sun’s about to set. We can’t stay in the forest any longer. Withdraw.”

What answered her was a swath of glittering, eager eyes.

“Yes! Sister Chi!”

The response was thunderous.

Chi Xin had forgotten when things had started to turn out like this. Leading a group of soldiers back into the city, she looked as though she were guiding a fan club.

Yet no matter how many times the group changed, it often ended up the same way.

Over time, she simply stopped paying attention to it.

After returning to the city, she habitually went to check on Yu Xiang. She had been coming every day; everything in the institute had proceeded step by step, and she usually only took a quick look.

This time, however, she ran into Professor Jing, who was deliberately waiting for her outside the ward.

“Did something go wrong with Yu Xiang?” Chi Xin’s first thought went there.

“There has been some change.” Hearing that Professor Jing’s tone held no urgency, she relaxed and listened as he continued. “The day before yesterday, we locked onto Lou Chen’s consciousness and began the separation process—you know that.”

“Yes.” Chi Xin listened intently.

“Today at noon, we received feedback from Yu Xiang’s consciousness,” Professor Jing said.

It took Chi Xin several seconds to fully grasp the meaning of that sentence. Joy bloomed at the corners of her eyes and brows. “Can he wake up?”

“Not yet.” Professor Jing shook his head, then quickly added, “But being able to give feedback is an extremely good sign. As long as he suppresses Lou Chen’s consciousness, he’ll be able to take control of the body and wake up.”

“How long will that process take?” Chi Xin asked.

“That depends on how strong Yu Xiang is.” Professor Jing sighed. “To be honest, the fact that he’s held on this long is already beyond my expectations. If he really can suppress Lou Chen, he may gain something from it.”

A flicker of worry crossed Chi Xin’s brow. As for Yu Xiang being able to overpower Lou Chen, she couldn’t help feeling it was somewhat unreliable.

“What we need to worry about now, instead, is Lou Chen’s backlash,” Professor Jing said slowly.

“Backlash?”

“I’ve heard that Raphael has already begun assembling a zombie army. Over on his side, Lou Chen no longer has any value to exploit.” Professor Jing’s calm gaze rested on Chi Xin. “In order to seize his only chance at survival, there’s no telling what Lou Chen might do.”

Chi Xin was silent for a moment, then said softly, “I’ll inform Xiao Li and have him strengthen security at the institute. You proceed as normal—don’t hold back.”

Professor Jing nodded. There was a trace of emotion in the way he looked at Chi Xin.

“You’ve already become a proper leader, Miss Chi.”

…

When Chi Xin returned to the administrative building, Jing Xiubai was still busy in the control room. Bad news had been coming in constantly these past few days, and the time he spent inside had grown longer and longer.

Chi Xin sat on the lounge chair opposite the control room, lowering her gaze to look at her fingertips.

The others in the base didn’t know the details, but no one hid information from her. The dark clouds gathering in the east were growing heavier by the day. Besides zombies, Raphael seemed to have also gained control over some mutated beasts. An army of astonishing size was gradually taking shape.

The sound of firm footsteps rang out. Chi Xin didn’t move until Xiao Li stopped in front of her.

“Why aren’t you going in?” Xiao Li glanced at the control room door.

“I’m thinking—given our current strength, if we go straight to the east, what are the odds of winning?” Chi Xin didn’t lift her head as she asked the question that had circled in her mind countless times.

There was a soft rustle as Xiao Li sat down beside her.

“Ten percent,” he said.

“Only that low?” Chi Xin had run that number through her mind before, but hearing it spoken aloud by a professional still made her heart sink.

“We’re in the open; they’re in the dark,” Xiao Li said. “Just as Jing Xiubai said, Raphael is very cunning. What’s out in the open may not be his real trump card. But as for ours, he knows them all too well.”

“We still have trump cards?” Chi Xin gave a small laugh. “I thought all we had was reckless courage.”

“Our trump card couldn’t be clearer,” Xiao Li’s voice dropped. “It’s you, Chi Xin. No one can deny that.”

Chi Xin’s expression was calm as she leaned back against the wall. After a long while, she gave a soft “Mm.”

Xiao Li felt a little uneasy, thinking he might have upset her. Just as he was about to say a few more words to comfort her, he heard Chi Xin let out a cold laugh.

“No matter how many trump cards he has, once the one controlling them is killed, they’ll turn into a scattered mess,” she said softly. “I can’t wait any longer.”

She couldn’t wait to let her bloodthirsty blade split Raphael’s skull open and see just what kind of structure could give birth to such a villain.

Her voice was calm, but the confidence and overwhelming dominance within it made Xiao Li shiver. A fervent light shot into his eyes.

At that moment, with a click of the lock, the control room door opened.