IABI – Chapter 87 Achieving the Goal

In the dark night sky, Chi Xin broke free from the pull of gravity, her slender figure soaring and flipping gracefully in midair.

Shells exploded around her, bursting into dazzling showers of sparks, gilding her silhouette with fiery brilliance, as though she had grown a pair of golden wings.

Without the enhancement of venom, the centipede’s threat against Chi Xin sharply decreased. After just a few exchanges, under the dual onslaught of her long blade and the machine gun, it could only let out pained, crazed screeches.

Within those cries came a subtle rustling — countless tiny sounds. Chi Xin looked down and saw, crawling out from the shadows, a multitude of small, dark shapes.

“Damn it!”

Yu Xiang was the first to shout a warning through the comms: “Mini centipedes incoming!”

It turned out that under Pei Jiade’s summoning, all the centipede creatures on the mountain were rushing this way for reinforcements.

“Deal with those first — ignore him for now!”

Chi Xin made a snap decision. Other than Jing Xiubai, the other two immediately shifted their focus, attacking the swarm of bugs surging across the ground.

No one knew how long this island had existed, but the countless wriggling forms made Chi Xin’s scalp prickle. She flipped through the air, landing on the other side of the centipede, and caught sight of Holay — who had been silent for a long time.

He was sitting on the ground, clutching a female zombie. Fortunately, the zombie was tightly bound, even her mouth muzzled, unable to harm anyone. Holay just sat there, holding her, his eyes blank, muttering something under his breath. The swarm crawling toward him seemed to be stopped by an invisible barrier — they could not reach him.

A thought flashed through Chi Xin’s mind. Raising her long blade to block an oncoming strike from the centipede’s pincers, she shouted loudly, “Holay! What are you waiting for?”

Holay’s eyes flickered and slowly lifted to look straight at Chi Xin, who hovered in the air.

Without pausing her movements, Chi Xin shouted again, “Do you remember what we talked about earlier? Your wife can still be saved! But if we keep wasting time here, who knows what the lab might create next!”

Holay’s lips trembled, muttering something — a question, or perhaps disbelief.

Chi Xin couldn’t hear him clearly. While dragging Pei Jiade’s body with one hand, she glanced toward her companions — Jing Xiubai was building a wall of ice to block the centipede’s advance, giving them some breathing space. That gave her some reassurance.

“Holay, the lab’s been delayed by accidents — but we’ve already been here for several days. When they regroup, short on manpower, what do you think they’ll do next?” Chi Xin’s tone grew sharper as she fought, now completely familiar with the centipede’s attack pattern. “To them, what’s the worth of one zombie? And if you end up under their control too — who will protect your wife then?”

Her words pierced straight through Holay’s defenses. His eyes widened in horror as he clutched the struggling female zombie tighter.

“No… no, that’s impossible… she’s my A-Ran. She’s still… alive.”

“Then pull yourself together!”

Chi Xin roared. She had no patience left to drag this out — twisting her body, she leaped high into the air!

Pei Jiade, of course, wouldn’t let her go. His massive, grotesque head shot forward, jaws snapping toward her back!

Crack!

Chi Xin landed gracefully, momentum carrying her into a roll. She rose to one knee, steady and poised, eyes sharp as blades as she looked straight at Holay.

He seemed momentarily bewitched by that gaze — just as he opened his mouth to say something, his pupils shrank violently.

Chi Xin could see the terror reflected in his eyes.

“Chi Xin! Behind you!” Jing Xiubai’s voice rang out in alarm.

Chi Xin’s lips curved slightly, but she didn’t turn. Her gaze stayed locked on Holay, as calm as ever.

As if the massive threat behind her didn’t exist, she continued, “You’re stronger than you think. If you can break free from this prison you created yourself… your power will be extraordinary.”

A furious roar split the air — the centipede’s gaping maw rushed closer, its vile breath almost touching her hair. Pei Jiade’s face twisted with manic delight!

Chi Xin said coolly, “Still not willing to wake up—”

Without even turning around, she drew her long blade, flipped her wrist, and thrust upward with all her strength!

Clang—

The sound of metal piercing through a hard shell echoed sharply through the night. For a moment, even the rustling of the bugs seemed to stop.

Holay, the three teammates, and even the indistinct shadows trapped within the bubbles — all froze, their gazes drawn to Chi Xin.

She stood there, motionless, her blade raised midair — its tip had pierced cleanly through the centipede’s one weak spot beneath its jaw, emerging from the back of its skull.

Blood dripped slowly from the blade’s edge. Pei Jiade’s bulging eyes were filled with disbelief.

“H-how could this be…”

After fighting her so many times, he knew her blade couldn’t pierce his hardened shell — so how could she kill him in a single strike?

But reality allowed no denial. His fading consciousness swallowed every thought, and with his final breath, he spat a curse.

“You… monsters… none of you will… die well…”

Chi Xin didn’t even blink as she withdrew her blade.

Thud.

The centipede’s enormous body collapsed, shaking the ground and scattering the swarming bugs.

Chi Xin spun her wrist, the blade twirling into a bright arc before she reversed it and slid it smoothly back into its sheath.

Lifting her gaze to Holay, whose eyes were wide with shock, she said evenly,

“Now — take care of these damned bugs. Then let’s rescue the innocents trapped in the castle… and discuss how we’re going to get that serum, shall we?”

Holay’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His eyes dropped to the female zombie in his arms.

She was still struggling, her pale, clouded eyes full of hunger and malice, body straining to bite into the face of the man holding her.

“Ah Ran, is there still any hope?” Holay asked softly.

Chi Xin didn’t answer. She simply waited for Holay to hesitate—then turned and tossed each member of the main team a bottle of antidote spray.

The three of them caught it, stunned.

Jiang Congyun slapped his forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that!”

Yu Xiang held the bottle tightly. “Honestly… an average person really wouldn’t.”

Zzz—Zzz—

Sure enough, with the spray, their bug-killing efficiency skyrocketed, though centipede-like creatures kept pouring from the bushes endlessly, driving everyone mad.

Just when Chi Xin’s patience was about to run out and she was thinking of lobbing a grenade to blow everything up, Holay suddenly stood up.

“Help me a moment.”

He spoke briefly, then pushed the female zombie in his arms toward Chi Xin.

“Ughh!”

The zombie groaned as she was handed over. Chi Xin quickly turned her head aside, dodging the creature’s attempt at a “passionate” bite.

After fighting zombies for so long, this was her first time being in such close contact with one. She restrained the zombie’s movements, the corners of her lips lifting slightly.

Holay stood in front of them, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes—as if communicating with some unseen consciousness.

Moments later, everyone was shocked to see the ground crawling with insect-beasts suddenly change direction. Instead of swarming them, they all started climbing onto Pei Jiade’s enormous centipede corpse.

The huge body of the dead man was like a great ship, now covered by countless crazed bugs piling over it in a grotesque pilgrimage. In no time, the mass wrapped him completely, forming what looked like a gigantic cocoon.

“Go now,” Holay murmured. “You’ll all find eternal release.”

And then Chi Xin saw it—the cocoon, like a massive ship, began to move.

It had a clear destination: straight toward the cliff’s edge.

The three members of the team immediately jumped aside, clearing the path.

Carrying the corpses of all the insect-beasts, the cocoon slid off the cliff like a river flowing into the sea—plunging without hesitation into the dark abyss below.

A moment later, the sound of a heavy splash echoed from the depths.

Pei Jiade, along with his brood of centipede offspring and his twisted ideals, was buried forever beneath the ocean.

Holay turned back, staring at the rising bubbles for a while before waving his hand. They all burst into nothing.

As he reached out to take back the female zombie, Chi Xin asked, “What about them now?”

“The rooms have returned to normal. They just can’t get out for the time being,” Holay replied, glancing at Jing Xiubai with an odd look. “No one has ever found the correct path inside my prism world. They only fall into chaos—an endless cycle of confusion.”

Jing Xiubai’s hair was a little messy, probably from climbing the cliff earlier. Chi Xin couldn’t help but wonder how he had managed not only to escape but also to find them and rescue Yu Xiang and Jiang Congyun.

“Well, since it’s a prism, those protruding edges are the best guides,” Jing Xiubai explained. “Once you determine the direction, just keep going straight and you’ll get out. I just didn’t expect a cliff at the end. If I hadn’t heard your voices up here, I never would’ve found this place.”

“I see,” Yu Xiang said, nodding as if he understood everything perfectly.

Chi Xin looked at him in confusion. “Do you actually understand that?”

“Nope.” Yu Xiang admitted honestly, throwing an arm around Jing Xiubai’s shoulders. “But no one else does either, so we might as well pretend and move on.”

Jing Xiubai rolled his eyes at him and pried his arm off with two fingers in disgust.

Among them, only Holay seemed to catch something deeper. He frowned slightly, then looked enlightened.

“I see,” he said, scanning the group with a complex expression. “No wonder I failed. You really are… a bunch of hidden masters.”

“Left’s a dragon, right’s a tiger—you’re just the idiot in between,” Yu Xiang muttered. “Now can we please change the subject?”

He glanced nervously back at the tree trunk that had tied him earlier and shivered.

“Those prisoners—they won’t be in danger now, right?” Chi Xin asked.

“I only locked them in separate rooms for now. Once everything’s settled, we’ll release them,” Holay sighed, a faint bitter smile on his face. “I didn’t expect them not to be condemned criminals at all… just ordinary people.”

At that, the four of them grew silent for a moment.

“Speaking of judgment—weren’t you supposed to judge the guilty?” Chi Xin suddenly remembered.

Jing Xiubai said, “Think back. Who was the one actually conducting those trials before?”

After a moment’s thought, Chi Xin realized the answer.

It had been Pei Jiade all along. Taking advantage of Holay’s disinterest and desire to withdraw from the world, he had used Holay’s authority to commit who knows how many atrocities.

“Let’s go to office,” Holay said gently. “Ah Ran must be hungry.” His gaze softened as it fell on the female zombie. “Everyone, come in.”

They walked back to the room where Chi Xin had first exited. The mirrors around them dimmed, and that familiar feeling of spatial distortion returned. After a brief tugging sensation, they opened their eyes—only to find themselves in the warden’s office.

It was exactly as they’d left it. Through the large glass windows, the night sky sparkled with stars, their light spilling faintly into the room.

Holay turned on the lights. “If you don’t mind, may I ask you to wait a moment? I need to feed my wife.”

“Feed her?” Yu Xiang blinked. “Zombies… eat what, exactly? Don’t tell me—human flesh?”

Holay gave him a look. “You can come and see for yourself.”

He walked to the bookshelf, twisted a cabinet handle, and—like a movie scene—a hidden door opened, revealing a cozy living space behind it.

Holay led the female zombie to a large bed, gently but firmly tying down her limbs again before removing her muzzle.

“Roar!”

She straightened up in an instant, as if she wanted to bite him.

“Shh, shh, Ah Ran, be good — there are guests here.” Holay gently stroked her hair. “Aren’t you hungry? I’ll go get some food right away.”

Since the owner had given permission, Chi Xin’s curiosity was piqued and she followed in to see what was happening.

Holay opened a small freezer at the foot of the bed, took out a piece of fresh meat, and held it close to the zombie’s mouth, letting her tear it apart.

“What is this?” Chi Xin asked.

“We have such a large ranch. It wouldn’t make sense if Ah Ran couldn’t be provided with some raw meat.” Holay replied lightly.

That sounded reasonable. Chi Xin and Yu Xiang exchanged glances and stepped back together.

After seeing that for themselves, the two standing outside also reacted; Jiang Congyun lowered her voice, “I still have doubts. If Holay is really that powerful, why would he willingly stay on this island? And the methods he used to control people are terrifying… he doesn’t seem like a good person.”

“Even if some things are true and some are false, the balance of truth and falsehood still leans toward truth,” Chi Xin gave her judgment. “His obsession is deep but simple: he just wants to live an ordinary life with his wife. When even that wish can’t be fulfilled, he goes mad. You can’t simply label him good or evil.”

“I agree with Chi Xin,” Yu Xiang said. “It’s rare to be that devoted. But I can’t guarantee he’ll still love a zombie faithfully for ten years straight…”

In the common human consensus, someone who’s become a zombie is no longer a person. No matter who they once loved — spouse, daughter, son, husband, wife — once they turn, they become creatures driven only by hunger. For humans to survive, those zombies must be killed.

Only by thinking this way can people harden themselves enough to raise the blade against former loved ones.

After a moment of silence, Jing Xiubai said, “There’s a line Chi Xin said that’s very accurate: Holay cannot be boxed into simple labels of good and evil. But one thing is indisputable — he’s dangerous.”

He looked at the four of them, his expression grave. “His power is extremely strong. If he loses control, who knows what will happen. We can’t turn him into an ally. The best course is to stabilize him.”

“An innate superhuman…” Chi Xin sighed the name, and thoughts of Lou Chen’s description surfaced — the similar aura she felt when she touched Holay made her instinctively press a hand to her chest.

If Holay was an innate superhuman, and that was why the system hadn’t reclaimed its power from her — could that mean… the body she was in originally belonged to an innate superhuman?

That possibility seemed likely. In the films, when an original body died on an ordinary person, it should have died dozens of times over, yet she had survived every time and only finally suffered forced logout after bringing about her own ruin.

Perhaps the original owner of this body didn’t even know this, otherwise they wouldn’t have fallen into such misery and torture.

“What are you thinking about?” Jing Xiubai asked, having keenly noticed Chi Xin zoning out; the others also turned to look at her.

“Nothing.” Chi Xin lowered her hand and smiled at them.

She temporarily suppressed her doubts about the true identity of the body.

At that moment Holay emerged from behind the bookshelf; he closed the hidden door, looked at the four people in the room, and motioned to the guest sofa. “Sit.”

He himself sat down in a large leather chair behind the desk.

The four watched Holay. Holay stared blankly at his computer screen; for a while no one spoke.

After a long moment Holay suddenly covered his face with his hands.

“I hid some facts earlier.” He said in a muffled voice between his fingers.

“We’d like to hear them.” Jing Xiubai replied.

Holay lowered his hands. The hard lines of his face softened suddenly; he looked tired, as if ten years had been taken off his life.

He didn’t look at the four, but at the computer screen again, which cast a pale, ghostly light across his face.

“I’m not completely innocent, nor was I unaware of what Pei Jiade did.” He spoke in a low voice, his elbows on the desk, fingers clasped in front of his lips. “I’m not blameless.”

The four exchanged glances. Chi Xin spoke up, “Holay, at this point there’s no need to hide things from us.”

“That’s true.”

Holay took a deep breath and after a long pause slowly exhaled.

“To build my fortress, I treated those criminals not as people. To me, they were like bombs — any one could explode at any moment and expose me. I controlled them, brainwashed them, made them give up hopes of the outside world, quietly removed unstable elements… but in truth, I don’t know — I didn’t realize they were not…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Chi Xin was silent as well.

From Holay’s words she could hear the conflict between humanity and desire — the pain of it.

“They can choose to resist.” Chi Xin said softly. “We’ve fought them more than once. They aren’t as invincible as we imagined. Being crushed by fear weakens one’s will and pushes them into a corner.”

Chi Xin saw, in Holay, a shadow of Lou Chen — both deeply hated and terrified by the laboratory experiments and both possessing great power but unable to use it freely.

But Lou Chen once vented that fear on the world, trying to drag everyone down. Holay had instead withdrawn from the world; perhaps because he had attachments, he chose to hide himself. As long as no one poked his shell, he could stay inside, but once someone disturbed him and made him feel threatened, that turtle would instantly become a ferocious shark and tear its enemies apart.

Holay’s shoulders trembled slightly. “I don’t dare… I don’t dare… I have Ah Ran. I can’t leave her alone in this world.”

Chi Xin sighed.

He had fallen completely into this death loop. Unless the source of his fear were wholly erased, he would never escape.

“Don’t worry. We won’t be coming to judge your crimes.” Jing Xiubai said. “We’re here because we stand opposed to the lab and are asking for help.”

“Help… help… oh right, when you first came you did ask for a boat.” Holay’s eyes widened as if waking from a dream. He opened them weakly and closed them again. “I know who to have bring you.”

They hadn’t expected the matter to be resolved so easily; the four looked at one another.

“You trust them that easily?” Yu Xiang couldn’t help but say. “What if they’re liars? If they go out and report to the lab that we’re here…”

At that remark, the other three glared at him.

Fortunately, Holay had no idea about the strange “power” of Yu Xiang’s crow mouth, or they wouldn’t have been able to leave so easily.

Yu Xiang shrank his neck under her glare, blinking innocently.

Holay didn’t notice the turbulent exchange between them. After listening to what was said, he fell silent for a few seconds before letting out a low laugh. “Otherwise what? Fight them to the death? Isn’t this exactly why we didn’t act tonight? But you’ve all seen how that turned out.”

When he opened his eyes again, he looked like an old, weary lion—yet his gaze was still sharp. “If we really fight head-on, there’s a high chance we’d perish together. That’s not what I want. Besides, if you were really spies sent from the lab, you could’ve captured me already. Why bother talking so much?”

“That… kind of makes sense,” Yu Xiang muttered, scratching his head.

“Even if, worst-case scenario, you really are from the lab,” Holay continued, leaning back in his chair, “letting you go for now wouldn’t affect me much. During your journey to Country A, I could take my wife and hide somewhere you’d never find me.”

As Chi Xin listened, she couldn’t quite describe the mix of resignation and pity she felt toward this man.

He was sharp-minded and powerful, yet he wasted his talents on all the wrong things—his only goal was to escape.

“Don’t worry,” Jing Xiubai said evenly, his tone calm and reassuring. “Everything Chi Xin and I have said is true. We are going to the lab—but only to destroy it.”

Chi Xin noticed a subtle flicker in Holay’s eyes; his tightly clenched hands relaxed slightly.

“That’s… the best news possible.” He lowered his gaze, not wanting to show the glimmer of hope in his eyes. “There really will be… a serum there, won’t there?”

“We hope so too,” Chi Xin replied.

Jing Xiubai added casually, “It’s quite possible. To prevent infection, the researchers would have created some kind of drug. And surely, some important people have been infected before—they must have their own way of handling it.”

Holay’s head snapped up, eyes burning with intensity.

“Really?”

Jing Xiubai didn’t even blink. “I spent a long time in the lab. I saw it with my own eyes.”

Holay’s forced composure crumbled instantly. He collapsed back into the chair, murmuring in disbelief, “It’s real… it really exists… Ah Ran, we’re saved.”

Tears streamed from his eyes, soaking his weathered face.

Chi Xin looked at Jing Xiubai, speechless. Jing Xiubai quickly gave her a small wink.

Then he continued, “We all know what a serum can do. But once everything returns to normal… will you and your wife still stay here?”

“If that day truly comes, I’ll take her away,” Holay said hoarsely. “I’ll show her mountains and sunsets, bridges and streams, all the things she never got to see… if that day ever really comes… if it really comes…”

His voice broke.

Jing Xiubai hummed softly, pretending to hesitate. “When that happens, if word from here reaches the mainland, you might face… some difficulties.”

Holay was too emotional to think straight. Normally, he might have caught the hint of manipulation, but now he simply followed along. “I can make up for it! I can’t leave now, but I can treat the prisoners better—let them wait with us for the news. I won’t kill innocents anymore.”

After saying that, he looked at Jing Xiubai nervously. “Is that… enough?”

Jing sighed. “Since you’re so sincere, I’ll show you a way.”

Holay’s eyes lit up. “Tell me.”

Jing raised his wrist, showing the black-screened watch. “This can send a signal to the largest survivor base—Base A. Yu Xiang’s father is in charge there. If you connect with them, and the two sides cooperate, no one will trouble you in the future.”

“What could I possibly offer for cooperation—” Holay stopped mid-sentence, his expression freezing.

“I have oil wells,” he blurted out, eyes blazing as if he’d grabbed a lifeline. “Canghai has the richest undersea oil reserves, but because of the exploration difficulties, no one ever developed it. But I’ve used my ability to build new oil wells! Now that the apocalypse has come, oil and natural gas must be rare resources, right?”

“Exactly,” Jing Xiubai said smoothly. “That gives you a strong bargaining chip. Can you show me later? I’d like to recharge my watch.”

“Of course!” Holay agreed instantly.

His gaze toward them changed completely—no longer filled with weariness or distrust, but with gratitude and a kind of reverent hope.

Chi Xin was speechless. She had seen Jing Xiubai talk his way out of things before, but managing to secure oil sponsorship with just a few words—she couldn’t help but admire him.

“By the way,” she said as they were about to leave, noticing how eager Holay looked to help recharge the watch, “I’m still curious—Holay, what exactly is your power?”

If she classified herself under natural abilities, hers would fall under attack. But Holay’s strange, mixed techniques were hard to place.

“If I had to define it,” Holay said, “my ability might be ‘communication.’”

“Communication?” Chi Xin echoed, puzzled.

“Yes. Communication with everything that exists. Anything in the world, I can talk to it.” Holay explained. “It sounds strange, I know. It took me years to learn how to use it properly.”

“Wait—so when you turned the castle into a prism maze, that was from talking to the building?” Yu Xiang asked, dumbfounded.

“You could say that,” Holay replied. “If it’s a sentient being, communication doesn’t always work. But with objects—tables, chairs, walls—it becomes one-sided. They follow my will.”

“That’s… incredible,” Chi Xin said sincerely.

To command the very world around you—that was far beyond her secondary ability, Heart Speech. At least hers couldn’t order a house to turn into a maze.

“It doesn’t always succeed,” Holay admitted with a wry smile. “Tonight’s operation was something I’d prepared for a long time… and I still failed. It was originally meant for the lab’s people who came to capture me.”

Once that mystery was cleared, everything went smoothly.

Jing Xiubai recharged his watch and, in front of Holay, sent a message to Base A, asking him to wait patiently for a reply.

To express his gratitude, Holay immediately ordered his men to bring a ship to the port, saying they could leave anytime they wished.

All the people trapped in the castle were released. Holay promised to stop using his ability to manipulate their thoughts. As for those in the west wing—whose minds had already been weakened—they wouldn’t recover right away even after the ability was lifted.

For Holay, that was just as well.

After brief discussions, Chi Xin and the others didn’t linger long. Two days later, after a short rest and packing up the supplies Holay and the freed prisoners insisted they take, they set off once more.

When the eastern district residents—who had seen Chi Xin slay monsters and fight for their survival—heard she was leaving, many couldn’t hide their sadness.

Chi Xin reassured them, “You’re free to choose whether to stay or return to the mainland. Holay won’t stop you.”

Big Black, Yan Lin, sniffled miserably but said nothing.

The thin monkey, however, smiled. “Goddess Chi, the world outside is in ruins. It’s safer to stay here. Besides, the oil wells still need workers. If we can make them contribute to humanity again, that’s worth it. Don’t worry—we’re staying because we want to. No one’s forcing us.”

“Thank you, Shouhou. Thank you, everyone.” Chi Xin smiled at the man who had once been timid and small but now looked reborn—clear-eyed and bright. “Take care of yourselves. We’ll bring back good news.”

“Chi Xin, time to go!”

Yu Xiang’s voice came from the ship.

Chi Xin responded, turned back one last time to Holay, and said, “I’m leaving them to you. Please look after them.”

“I will,” Holay promised.

“Wuu—” Yan Lin suddenly burst into tears. He stood in front of Chi Xin—half a head shorter than her—sniffling hard. “Goddess Chi, you—you have to come back, okay?”

Chi Xin hadn’t expected this side of him and couldn’t help but laugh, patting his rock-hard arm. “Got it. Take care of yourselves.”

The time had come. With a leap, Chi Xin jumped from the dock onto the ship and turned to wave at the people lining the shore.

“Goodbye,” she said softly.

The morning sun blazed across the rippling sea. Jing Xiubai, now an adept helmsman, turned the wheel. They sailed farther and farther from Donglubao—closer and closer to their true destination.