At this moment, Lin Xian started to feel that coming down here might have been a huge mistake.
A creature that could cause earthquakes—he didn’t even want to imagine what lay beneath this underground city.
Brushing off the dust and debris clinging to him, Lin Xian felt a sinking sensation in his chest.
But since they were already here—
There was no turning back.
“Damn, Lin Xian, if this whole place collapses in an earthquake, we’ll be buried alive,” KIKI muttered as she walked.
“Better than getting eaten by Zombies or Black Centipede Creatures.”
“What good would that do?” Lin Xian kept his flashlight aimed forward, his tone urgent. “We’re already here—we need to make this trip worth it.”
“Tch. If I die down here, I’m stuck with you forever,” KIKI pouted.
“You could always go back and join Mr. ‘Hello’ Red Skeleton—he’s polite, at least.”
Lin Xian couldn’t help but find it absurd—this girl was still joking at a time .
KIKI quickened her pace and grabbed onto Lin Xian’s sleeve. “Fine, I’ll stick with you. At least I won’t be a wandering ghost.”
As they continued descending through the long, hollow tunnel, their soft conversations echoed off the damp walls.
Lin Xian swept his flashlight carefully across the passage—
Then suddenly—he stopped.
KIKI, caught off guard, bumped straight into his back.
“Ugh! What the hell, why’d you stop so suddenly?”
She rubbed her nose in irritation—until she noticed where Lin Xian was pointing his flashlight.
At the ceiling of the tunnel.
Something brownish-red, the size of a washbasin, was stuck to the wall—its irregular shape eerily resembling organic tissue.
KIKI’s face twisted in disgust. “Wait—look ahead—there’s more!”
She gasped. Lin Xian immediately shined his light forward—
More of that flesh-like growth.
Clusters of bloody, tumor-like masses spread along the tunnel walls, growing denser as they went deeper.
Lin Xian’s expression darkened. He crouched down, picked up a small rock, and tossed it at one of the flesh-like growths.
The rock bounced off. No reaction. No signs of corrosion.
Cautiously, Lin Xian stepped closer and pressed his fingers against the fleshy surface.
“…What the hell is this? A mutated fungus?”
KIKI shivered. “Lin Xian… this place feels really wrong…”
Ignoring the unease settling in his chest, Lin Xian kept moving forward.
The further they went—
The more of that grotesque flesh appeared.
Larger masses began to take shape—
Some covering entire sections of the tunnel.
“Lin Xian…” KIKI swallowed. “Doesn’t it feel like… we just walked into the stomach of some giant creature?”
“…I was thinking the same thing.”
For once, Lin Xian wasn’t being sarcastic—
Because that exact thought had just crossed his mind.
KIKI suddenly grabbed his arm.
“Lin Xian, look out!”
A chilling gust of wind rushed toward them.
Lin Xian’s flashlight beam vanished into the void—as if something had swallowed it whole.
He stopped breathing.
The tunnel had disappeared.
KIKI took a step forward—only to realize they were standing at the edge of a cliff.
The right-side wall of the tunnel had completely collapsed, exposing a vast open void.
A pale glow spilled in from a massive, rectangular opening in the underground city’s ceiling.
The tunnel had been spiraling downward along the underground city’s inner walls.
Now, from their current depth—Level 90 and below—
The sky above was just a distant pinprick, like looking up from the bottom of a well.
A massive, collapsed pit.
At the center of that pit—
The grotesque red tissue that had been growing along the tunnel continued downward, cascading like a waterfall into the chasm.
Lin Xian realized something horrifying—
The “hill” was breathing.
“This thing… it grew from below.”
Lin Xian and KIKI stood at the broken edge of the tracks, staring down into the abyss.
“…Lin Xian, do you see that?” KIKI whispered, her voice laced with uncertainty.
Lin Xian narrowed his eyes, trying to focus. But when he aimed his flashlight downward, the beam disappeared into the darkness.
KIKI pointed toward the center of the pit.
Lin Xian adjusted his light—but still couldn’t see anything.
When KIKI didn’t respond, Lin Xian turned—
KIKI had gone completely still.
She removed her gas mask.
Under the pale moonlight—
Her face was drained of color.
Eyes wide, filled with sheer terror.
She raised a trembling hand, pointing at the pit.
And with her other hand—
She switched off Lin Xian’s flashlight.
With the flashlight off—
The moonlight cast an even clearer view of the abyss.
Lin Xian followed KIKI’s gaze—
His pupils shrunk violently.
KIKI hadn’t been pointing at a specific spot.
She was pointing at the entire hill.
Because when Lin Xian stopped looking at it as terrain—
And instead saw it as a whole—
A colossal, thousand-meter-long entity.
Its grotesque, mountainous body sprawled across the underground city’s core, its flesh extending outward like a cancerous growth.
And most horrifying of all—
With countless, writhing human arms.
Lin Xian gasped sharply, sucking in a breath of frigid air.
KIKI clasped her hands over her mouth, barely containing a scream.
“…Lin Xian…” she whispered, voice trembling.
“…Is this the ‘Underground Creature’ they talked about?”
Lin Xian’s hands clenched into fists.
This thing had grown up from beneath the earth.
And it was still spreading.
For years, people had believed—
That hiding underground was safer.
That when Apocalypse Day came, the deep shelters would be their last refuge.
As they stood before this monstrous entity, nestled deep within the very foundation of the underground city—
37,000 people had vanished overnight.
A multi-trillion-dollar fortress had fallen in an instant.
Against the horrors of the Abyss—
Humanity was nothing more than ants.