IABI – Chapter 83 The Rebellion Begins

By the time he completed the final part of his plan, the sky on the horizon had already turned pale gray.

The blazing morning sun churned beneath the thick clouds, carrying with it the promise of breaking through all darkness.

Yan Lin was the first to stand up. As he rose, he winced slightly from the pain — clearly, Chi Xin’s earlier collision with him had left quite an impact.

But his entire expression had brightened; a surge of life had replaced the lifeless dullness of a puppet.

“It’s time to get to work,” he said.

Chi Xin blinked. “So early?”

It looked like it was only four or five in the morning. The whistle in the West District usually didn’t blow until seven or eight.

“The Warden only dotes on the West District’s obedient little babies. To him, we in the East District aren’t even human,” Monkey said bitterly.

“Enough, Monkey,” Yan Lin said. “It’ll all be over soon.”

As he spoke, he looked toward Chi Xin for confirmation. “Right?”

Only then did Chi Xin recall overhearing a conversation in the cafeteria the other day — the East District indeed started work earlier than the others.

“In that case, let’s discuss things tonight,” she said. “The Warden’s definitely monitoring this area. The sooner we act, the better.”

Yan Lin’s eyes lit up. “You mean… tonight we can…?”

“I hope so.” Chi Xin stood as well. “Don’t worry — I’m more eager than any of you.”

Just as she finished speaking, rustling noises came from outside the cafeteria door. The entire room fell silent as Chi Xin looked toward the entrance.

A guard was pushing in a meal cart. He froze at the sight of the packed hall.

“What’s going on?”

A familiar voice came from outside. When the person entered, Chi Xin immediately recognized him.

“Well, if it isn’t Guard Captain Pei,” she greeted cheerfully, waving.

Her surprisingly friendly tone toward Pei Jiade caused a ripple of murmurs among the prisoners.

Pei Jiade’s face showed obvious shock at the sight. He stood at the doorway for a long moment before coldly ordering, “Eat. Anyone who doesn’t — go straight to work.”

Everyone looked toward Chi Xin. She whispered to Yan Lin, “Just act normal. Trust me.”

Yan Lin held her gaze for a moment, then nodded stiffly and walked over to the food line, taking a cornbread bun.

The others followed his lead. One after another, they took their food — unusually quiet and obedient — leaving the serving guards visibly bewildered.

Pei Jiade’s expression softened slightly as he saw order restored, but when he approached the group of four, his brows knit tightly again.

“This isn’t the place to talk,” he said. “Come with me.”

That suited them — they had something to say to him as well. So without protest, they followed him out of the cafeteria.

Chi Xin could feel all eyes on them as they left.

Pei Jiade looked far more tense than when they had last seen him in the West District. His movements were rigid, eyes flicking around to ensure no one was nearby. Then he unlocked an empty cell with a key and quickly slipped inside.

“Captain Pei, you look like you’ve been swapped out for someone else,” Yu Xiang teased.

Pei Jiade’s tension only deepened. “What on earth did you do to make the Warden throw you into this place?”

“Maybe because I argued with him,” Chi Xin said, scratching her face as she recalled their confrontation at the pasture gate. “I told him the outside world’s gone apocalyptic. He wouldn’t admit it — got angry out of embarrassment.”

It was a half-truth. Chi Xin knew the real reason — the Warden had discovered she was a “psychic,” immune to brainwashing, and had changed tactics to deal with them. Ironically, that move only backfired on him.

But Pei Jiade didn’t know what had happened the previous night. His face grew colder, voice tinged with agitation. “You’re insane. Do you have any idea what kind of monster you’ve provoked?”

Chi Xin raised a brow and instinctively exchanged a glance with Jing Xiubai, who calmly said, “We’re listening.”

Pei Jiade took a deep breath. “Haven’t you wondered why so many prisoners remain safe under his rule? You’ve heard how they talk — they worship him like a god! They’d give up family, freedom, everything, just to serve him for life.”

“Is that something a human could achieve?” Jing Xiubai asked. “The prisoners don’t escape — is it really not because there’s no boat?”

Pei Jiade gave a cold laugh. “No boat? That’s just his excuse. If you hadn’t believed that lie, you’d have tried escaping on day one — and then how could he carry out his plans?”

What? There is a boat?

All four straightened slightly, their eyes fixed on Pei Jiade like pandas spotting bamboo.

But after starting down that path, Pei Jiade abruptly stopped. His voice took on a warning tone. “Don’t try finding it yourselves. This island is full of Holay’s informants. The prisoners worship him as some divine being, but I know the truth — he’s a monster who uses demonic power to control humans, and he revels in it.”

“Holay?” Chi Xin asked. “That’s the Warden’s real name?”

Pei Jiade didn’t reply. “Don’t dig deeper. Knowing too much will only hurt you.”

To Chi Xin, that silence was confirmation enough.

She searched her memory — in the original film, this name had never been mentioned. What kind of changes that implied, she couldn’t yet tell.

But one thing was clear: Pei Jiade knew the Warden had supernatural abilities. Though it was unclear why an unbrainwashed man would remain as a guard, his disgusted expression when mentioning Holay’s power suggested he wasn’t loyal to him.

Pei Jiade seemed to realize he’d said too much. After a pause, his tone returned to its usual coldness. “None of that matters now. Tell me — are we still making that trade?”

Jing Xiubai asked, “We tell you the situation outside, and in return, you help us leave. Correct?”

“Yes,” Pei Jiade replied. “It costs you nothing. All I ask is that you don’t lie to me. I’m not one of those gullible inmates.”

“What would I gain by deceiving you?” Chi Xin said. “But you — risking so much just to learn what’s outside? That sounds suspicious. Are you sure you have no other motive?”

Her clear gaze met his squarely. Pei Jiade’s eyes trembled slightly before he looked away.

“You’ve never lived long under Holay’s rule,” he said quietly. “You can’t imagine how twisted his control is. That day, I only asked you one question in the cafeteria — and he…”

He swallowed his words, then added, “I just want to know the truth.”

Yu Xiang raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say he punished you last time? How dare you meet us again if he’s as terrifying as you say?”

Pei Jiade gave a stiff, mirthless smile. “Do you even know what Cell 8 is? Every disobedient inmate ends up there — and when they come out, they’re hollow, soulless husks. And yet you four spent the night there, unharmed. And then you gathered every prisoner in the cafeteria this morning — don’t tell me that was a welcome party.”

“You’re not afraid we might be the same kind of ‘monsters’ as the Warden?” Jiang Congyun asked softly.

Pei Jiade froze completely. He swept his gaze over the four of them, something dark flickering in his eyes.

When he finally spoke again, he changed the subject. “Tell me what’s happening outside. I’ll tell you where the boat is.”

A fair trade. The four silently agreed to let Jing Xiubai handle it.

He briefly outlined the situation outside — the apocalypse, the transformation of humans into zombies, the emergence of mutant beasts and plants threatening human survival. Harsh realities, yet in his calm voice, they sounded almost dreamlike.

Pei Jiade listened intently. When he heard about the half-beasts and mutant zombies, his posture stiffened — he was clearly unsettled.

“I know it’s unlikely,” he said after a moment, “but I have to ask.”

He took out a carefully preserved photo from his pocket, smoothing out its curled edges. “Have you seen this person?”

Chi Xin’s pupils contracted sharply.

Yu Xiang tilted his head, frowning in thought.

The photo showed a young man — perhaps a teenager — whose features faintly resembled Pei Jiade’s. He smiled shyly at the camera, looking gentle and obedient.

Pei Jiade immediately focused on Yu Xiang. “You’ve seen him, haven’t you?”

His voice carried fragile hope.

Yu Xiang thought for a long while before shaking his head. “I don’t remember.”

The light in Pei Jiade’s eyes dimmed instantly.

“I’ve met too many people. Can’t recall everyone from a single photo,” Jing Xiubai said. “Who is he?”

“No one,” Pei Jiade murmured, carefully tucking the photo away, making sure not to crease it.

Jing Xiubai watched his movement. “Once you’re out, you can look for him yourself. No one will stop you then. That’s why the priority now is overthrowing Holay’s rule on this island — taking back control.”

A faint, ironic smile crossed Pei Jiade’s face, but he said nothing more. After a moment, he only nodded. “Understood. A reminder — don’t trust the inmates too easily. They may seem rebellious, but who knows how deeply Holay’s control has sunk into their minds? Their servitude might already be instinct.”

“I understand,” Jing Xiubai said. “But you — won’t the Warden suspect you for meeting us here?”

“I’ve long been one of his suspects.” Pei Jiade frowned as he stood up. “I came to see you today specially, but I can’t stay long. If you want a boat, there’s one hidden beneath the oil well. How to get it—that’s up to you.”

This wasn’t quite what they had agreed on before, but Chi Xin hadn’t really expected him to help them to the end anyway. She twirled the bead on her wrist and suddenly asked, “If I take action tonight, will you come?”

Pei Jiade turned sharply toward her. “I told you already—you have no idea what kind of monster you’re up against! Even if he doesn’t move against you right now, do you really think you’re safe? Worry about yourself first.”

He had no interest in hearing more of her persuasion. Turning on his heel, he strode out of the cell, the door slamming shut with a loud bang.

Once she was sure he was gone, Jing Xiubai turned his gaze toward Chi Xin.

Chi Xin pursed her lips. “You noticed?”

“Your reaction was obvious. Fortunately, Yu Xiang’s was even bigger, so Pei Jiade didn’t have time to look at you.” Jing Xiubai said calmly. “You know the person in the photo, don’t you?”

Hearing that, Yu Xiang started recalling again. “So we have seen that person before… but why can’t I remember?”

Chi Xin glanced at him and reminded, “The department store.”

Yu Xiang’s expression froze.

“What’s that look for?” Jiang Congyun teased. “Is it some secret only you two know?”

“I remember now,” Yu Xiang murmured. “The man in that photo… he’s that spider zombie.”

Chi Xin nodded. “I fought him once. I haven’t forgotten that face.”

Back then, Yu Xiang had led a group to L City’s department store to find cosmetics for her, only to be surrounded by zombies. When their ammo and food ran out, it was thanks to Chi Xin’s timely arrival that they didn’t have to blow themselves up with the horde.

Ordinary zombies were nothing to Chi Xin—but that high-level one, with its own consciousness, had left a deep impression.

After hearing Chi Xin’s description, Jing Xiubai frowned. “That complicates things. If that zombie was somehow connected to Pei Jiade, and from Pei Jiade’s attitude, he seemed to know what the man would become… then it’s highly possible this has something to do with the prison.”

That was exactly the line of thought Chi Xin had been waiting for. She quickly added, “Right. And the warden himself has powers—where do you think he got them from? He’s gone to all this trouble to keep everyone under control. For what? Everyone said there used to be more people here than now. So where did all those missing people go?”

Her chain of questions made her meaning clear to everyone present.

Jiang Congyun blinked in shock. “Xin Xin, are you saying this prison… is connected to the laboratory?”

“That’s the most reasonable explanation right now,” Jing Xiubai said.

Yu Xiang clutched his head. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Every damn place we go ends up tied to that damn lab. Are they cockroaches or what, everywhere we go?”

“Their danger is far worse than cockroaches,” Jing Xiubai sighed.

Seeing that her teammates were catching on perfectly, Chi Xin nodded with satisfaction internally, though her face stayed serious. “Whether or not that’s true, the warden’s finished anyway. The question now is—should we go check the oil well to confirm if there’s really a boat hidden there?”

“Didn’t you say before that the oil well’s far from here?” Yu Xiang asked.

“About halfway across the island. The prisoners must’ve gone there by vehicle.” Chi Xin paused, then suddenly lit up. “Wait—if we want to go, I think I have a way.”

“What way? Even if you’ve got a Harley stashed somewhere, we can’t just go tearing across the island like that.”

Chi Xin let out a small laugh, her eyes darting mischievously toward Jing Xiubai. “Well… I can take one person with me at most. But if you can’t handle a little shaking, you might not—”

Seeing her expression, Jing Xiubai knew exactly what she was thinking. The corner of his mouth twitched, but his voice was calm. “As long as it’s not a motorcycle, I’ll ride anything. Even a rocket.”

He said that—but when Chi Xin returned leading a tall, sleek black horse with snow-white hooves, everyone’s jaws went slack.

“Whoa. Whoa!” Yu Xiang circled the horse, eyes shining. “Chi Xin, where’d you find this beauty?”

Jiang Congyun was also staring in awe. “It’s gorgeous.”

Chi Xin stroked the horse’s mane. “Found it yesterday while arguing with the warden. It’s smart, but a bit rebellious, so it got thrown out of the pasture. I just traded it some carrots earlier, and it agreed to carry us.”

Yu Xiang patted the horse’s glossy flank and sighed. “Guess it’s just you and Xiubai going, then. Congyun probably can’t handle the bouncing, and as for me—sure, I can ride, but crossing half an island on horseback? My butt would split open.”

Chi Xin turned to Jing Xiubai, eyes glinting with a hint of challenge. “This is way safer than a rocket. Do you dare?”

But she saw Jing Xiubai suddenly smile.

When the smile faded, he looked sincere again. “Not really. Sister Chi, please protect me.”

Chi Xin went silent.

Something about this male lead… felt a little off.

There was no time to dwell on it. She vaulted lightly onto the horse’s back. The black stallion, as if sharing her intent, steadied itself beneath her, smooth and strong.

“Come on.”

Chi Xin reached a hand down toward Jing Xiubai.

He looked up at her, laughter shimmering faintly in his eyes, and took her arm. With a coordinated motion, he swung up behind her.

It was the same position as when they’d ridden a motorcycle before, but that time Chi Xin had casually told him to hold her waist. Now, she suddenly felt the warmth of someone at her back, making her straighten awkwardly.

Still, thinking of passenger safety, she reminded him, “Hold on tight. Don’t shift your weight or you’ll fall.”

If Jing Xiubai weren’t so tall—blocking her view—she might’ve let him sit in front.

Then an image of the male lead sitting side-saddle like a demure maiden flashed through her head, and she snorted with laughter, instantly easing her tension.

“Let’s go.”

She lightly pressed her heels to the horse’s sides. The black stallion leapt forward, galloping into the jungle like a streak of shadow.

Chi Xin wasn’t exactly an expert rider, but the moment she mounted, her body instinctively adjusted into the perfect position, allowing her to control the horse with surprising ease.

If she had looked back, she’d have seen Jing Xiu’s face completely calm—no trace of fear at all. His focused gaze was fixed on the back of her head, his posture that of someone far too practiced.

They rode straight across the island. Even when the rumble of machinery from the oil well grew loud enough to shake the air, Jing Xiubai said nothing.

“Whoa—”

Chi Xin pulled the reins, halting the horse. From afar, she could see the towering oil rig. “Do we go closer?”

“Leave the horse here. We’ll sneak in on foot,” Jing Xiubai said.

Chi Xin agreed. She dismounted first, then, mimicking the graceful movements of a drama heroine, carefully helped Jing Xiubai down.

Leaning close to the horse’s ear, she whispered a few words. The horse neighed softly and nudged her chest affectionately.

“Be careful. Stay hidden,” Chi Xin murmured, patting its neck.

Even without much effort to conceal themselves, the dense vegetation hid them easily. Soon, they reached the shore, where the deafening roar of industrial engines filled the air.

Staring up at the massive rig, Jing Xiubai’s expression shifted to shock. “Impossible…”

“What is it?” Chi Xin asked, confused.

“Normally, offshore oil rigs aren’t built this close to land,” Jing Xiubai began in his encyclopedic tone. “Submarine oil deposits usually form at depths between two hundred and three thousand meters—along a section of steep slope called the continental shelf. Building one this close to the island can only mean that the undersea resources here are practically overflowing.”

Chi Xin’s eyes widened. “Then we’re rich!”

Her geology knowledge was limited, but even she knew that in peaceful times, oil was a fiercely contested treasure—“black gold.” And now, in an age of resource scarcity…

Whoever controlled this well, controlled a lifeline of the apocalypse.

“Which means that under Holay’s rule, there’s been no normal communication with the mainland for a long time,” Jing Xiubai said quietly. “No one knows what’s really happening here. No one knows there’s a massive oil field—possibly one of the largest left in the world—being monopolized by Holay for his own trade.”

His gaze deepened. “I’m no expert, but judging by this machinery, this place has more than just oil—there’s likely natural gas too. Holay really is… sitting on a mountain of gold.”

Jing Xiubai’s so-called “not very familiar” was clearly on a different level than anyone else’s.

Chi Xin also turned her eyes toward the towering structure—but after staring for a long while, saw nothing special.

Since she had Jing Xiubai, she was used to throwing the hard questions at him. “So… should we go up and take a look?”

“No need.” Jing Xiubai turned around, a faint glimmer of firelight flickering in his eyes. “Chi Xin, you know what this means, don’t you?”

Chi Xin nodded.

“Tonight’s operation must succeed.” Jing Xiubai’s voice carried a firm resolve. “Once the resources here can circulate in human society again, just think of how many people will be able to survive the next winter.”

Chi Xin looked toward the oil well — that structure carrying countless hopes. “The lives of people outside are lives, and so are the lives of these innocent prisoners on the island, Jing Xiubai. I have an idea.”

That night, all the prisoners in the East District ate their dinner faster than usual and then stayed in the cafeteria — not a single one stood up to leave.

The guard delivering the food found it strange, but everyone in the prison knew it was better to mind their own business when it came to the East District. So he only glanced around curiously a few times before pushing his cart away — better to deal with fewer problems than more.

“Boss, do you really think the Goddess Chi will keep her word?” the Skinny Monkey asked, a trace of worry in his tone.

The burly man, Yan Lin, sat quietly, his massive muscles flexing slightly with every breath — like a breathing iron tower.

“I believe her,” Yan Lin said heavily.

The Skinny Monkey sighed softly and said no more.

Just then, a wave of dizziness suddenly washed over him. He quickly raised his head and saw that everyone else was showing similar symptoms — some were frowning and shaking their heads violently, some clutching their heads and mumbling to themselves, and even Yan Lin was no exception.

Before he could react, a series of images flashed across his mind.

Zombies besieging cities, mutant beasts attacking, civilizations collapsing, societies crumbling — the world reduced to a vast, scorched wasteland…

Scene after horrifyingly real scene flickered through his mind like a movie reel.

“What… what is this?” someone muttered blankly.

No one could answer. From each other’s expressions, they could tell — they had all seen the same thing.

“I have a bad feeling about this…” Yan Lin said.

Before anyone could figure out what was happening, the cafeteria doors suddenly burst open. Chi Xin and her three companions entered, breaking the spell of those brutal visions. It was as if they brought light with them.

“Did everyone see it?” Chi Xin’s gaze swept across the room. “That was the truth I wanted you all to witness. Tonight’s plan will proceed as scheduled — but what I need from you is unity, and a shared purpose. That’s why I must tell you: after tonight, what awaits you may not be the warm smiles of your families, nor the beautiful world you once dreamed of. The only promise I can make… is that after tonight, you will have absolute freedom.”

In the heavy silence, Chi Xin’s clear voice flowed gently, like a stream cutting through the parched, cracked earth of their hearts.

“I’m standing right here,” Chi Xin said. “Those who want to fight for themselves — come stand by my side.”

That was the decision she and Jing Xiubai had discussed that afternoon.

If these people were going to fight, they deserved to know what they were fighting for.

She knew — if she hid the truth and let them hold onto false hope, perhaps more people would join the rebellion. But she didn’t want to see the light in their eyes ignite… only to burn out again.

That would be darker than anything else.

Chi Xin stood silently in place, counting down in her heart.

She gave them ten minutes to wrestle with their thoughts. Whoever decided to join — she would lead them to break free from this cage.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Time slipped by quietly. Everyone was too stunned by the revelations — even their shock had yet to fade.

Then, the cafeteria doors opened again — this time, it was Pei Jiade, holding a rifle.

He took in the scene before him and paused slightly. “What do you plan to do?”

“Chief… Chief Pei, you’re with us too?” a prisoner asked hesitantly, his arrival like a shot of adrenaline.

Pei Jiade said nothing. Yu Xiang raised his voice, “The Chief knew the truth long before us — and he didn’t hesitate for a second. He decided to join us right away! No matter what happens, the most important thing is to gain our freedom first, isn’t that right, Chief?”

That last question was aimed directly at Pei Jiade.

Until now, he had not only refrained from rebelling but had even sternly warned them against it. Chi Xin looked over quietly, unsure what his response would be.

Pei Jiade’s expressionless face twisted into a strange smile.

“Of course,” he said.

Yan Lin suddenly stood up and strode toward Chi Xin, locking eyes with her intently. “Chi Xin, just one question. Outside… are there still humans alive?”

That was what everyone else wanted to know as well — all eyes turned toward her.

Chi Xin met their gazes and answered sincerely, “Yes. The situation for humanity is dire, but they’ve formed survivor bases, gathering the living, resisting all threats. They’ve never given up hope — and neither have we.”

Yan Lin took a deep breath. “So you came from one of those survivor bases?”

“Yes,” Chi Xin said.

“Good. I’m in,” Yan Lin said, eyes fierce. “Staying here under that warden’s thumb is as good as death anyway. Lately that voice in my head’s been getting louder — if I stay any longer, I’ll probably die without even knowing it. The apocalypse, huh? I refuse to believe a guy like me can’t survive out there!”

“I’m in too,” said the Skinny Monkey, stepping out from behind Yan Lin’s massive frame. “My hometown’s gone. I don’t even know how long I’ve got left. Between living free or dying caged, the choice’s not that hard.”

“Good man!”

Yu Xiang hooked an arm around the Skinny Monkey’s neck. Chi Xin suspected it was because he couldn’t reach Yan Lin’s. Grinning, he said, “With a head that clear, everything between us before is wiped clean. From now on, we’re brothers in arms!”

The Skinny Monkey froze for a moment, almost in tears. “Thanks, boss! Thanks!”

With Yan Lin and the Skinny Monkey taking the lead, the others soon followed. Apart from a few whose minds had shattered too deeply, most stood by Chi Xin, declaring they were ready to fight.

“Good.” Chi Xin’s voice carried firm resolve through the night.

“For freedom,” she said.

“For freedom!”

Everyone echoed the words softly — including the three from the main group.

In that moment, they saw in Chi Xin everything they had ever hoped for.

“Since we’ve decided,” Yan Lin said, all pretense gone, his words sharp and steady, “tell us the plan. The warden has demonic power — he probably already knows what we’re doing. The gates out of the East District are likely locked tight.”

Jing Xiubai’s gaze swept around. “Break the tables and chairs — take anything you can use as a weapon.”

The prisoners snapped out of their daze, and soon the room was filled with the sound of crashing and clattering.

This was the plan Chi Xin and Jing Xiubai had already discussed. Fighting the warden wouldn’t be easy, but there was no need to reveal the secret of the space they guarded — one must always keep a trump card hidden.

Once everyone was armed, Chi Xin asked, “The gate that we came through earlier — that’s the fastest route to his office, right?”

“Yes,” Yan Lin said. “But even with a gun, that door’s impossible to break — it’s reinforced alloy—”

“That’s enough,” Chi Xin cut him off calmly. “Follow me.”

The main group followed her without hesitation. The other prisoners exchanged looks — but having come this far, there was no turning back. One by one, they followed.

Chi Xin strode toward the door they had entered through earlier — it was still locked tight, not even a crack visible.

“This one?” she asked Yan Lin for confirmation.

When he nodded, she said quietly, “Step back.”

Yan Lin didn’t understand, but instinctively took a few steps backward.

Then he saw it — the seemingly delicate girl drew in a deep breath, gave a sharp shout, and whipped her leg around in a powerful spinning kick.

“BANG—”

The metallic door boomed like a struck gong.

As the group collectively gasped, Chi Xin’s expression hardened. She inhaled again — another spinning kick.

“BANG—” “BANG—”

After three consecutive blows, the door — previously thought unbreakable — was dented deeply, then blown open with a gaping hole.

Yan Lin: ???

Pei Jiade: ???

The prisoners: !!!

Their jaws collectively hit the floor.

Chi Xin, apparently dissatisfied, kicked a few more times until the door hung in ruins. Then she turned around calmly, as if nothing unusual had happened, tilted her chin toward the corridor beyond, and said, “Let’s go.”

The crowd trembled for a moment — then their blood ignited.

“Go…?” someone murmured.

“Go!” Chi Xin said.

“GOOO!”

Their thunderous roar erupted, and under Chi Xin’s lead, everyone charged toward the gates of the fortress.