Chapter Thirty-Three: Deep into the Earth

Nine o’clock sharp, Thorn District, Marlin Headquarters Park.

This park, built a few years ago, stood near the residential area where Gongsun Ce lived, named after its benefactor, Marlin Headquarters. After returning to Baiyu Station, the two immediately rushed to their next destination, now standing in the center of the park, gazing up at the towering giant spire that seemed to pierce the clouds.

The “base” of the white tower was enormously thick, evoking in the hunter memories of ancient trees, though even the oldest tree seemed frail beside the colossus before her. Alice could not fathom what purpose such a “thorn” could possibly serve, and she found herself almost persuaded by the information broker’s speculation.

“Do people really treat this thing as an ordinary part of the scenery?”

“The first day you see it, you’re astonished. After thirty days, it’s just another tower. After three years, you forget it’s even here. Even the pigeons avoid the white tower for fear of accidents, and aside from a few elderly residents who spit when they see the spire, it’s as if this thing doesn’t exist at all.”

“Ah, deep-rooted dragon aversion—even becoming folklore in some places… Where’s the staff the information broker mentioned?”

“He’ll be out any moment.”

She noticed Gongsun Ce clenching his fists.

An invisible force struck the base of the white tower with a thunderous impact, shattering the silence of the park with a deafening boom!

The few pedestrians in the park stared at them as if they were mad. Alice had barely begun to express her shock when hurried footsteps and a distant shout rang out: “What are you doing out here so late? Newcomers, huh? Which school are you from? Hasn’t your teacher ever told you not to treat the spire like a wooden stake? Where’s your manners?!”

A middle-aged man in a deep blue security uniform jogged over, muttering complaints. The nearby passersby snickered as they dispersed, eager to avoid trouble.

He looked every bit the guard he was, and now he took a small device from his pocket, scanned Gongsun Ce’s face with it, and barked, “Disturbing the peace and damaging public property, you’ll be fined! If your card has no money, your teacher will arrange work-study for you—two hours a day for a week, that’ll do. Don’t think of running; the school will know you’ve skipped and punish you harder. Didn’t you pay attention during training? Don’t misuse your abilities to stir trouble… Wait, you’re not a newcomer?”

The guard scrutinized Gongsun Ce’s face, halting his barrage of words. “Aren’t you the guy from the neighboring complex… What’s going on?”

The bespectacled youth cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed. “June 24th, Heavy Light Power Punch.”

The middle-aged guard paused, then returned the device to his pocket.

He tapped on his phone for a while; Alice glimpsed surveillance footage on the screen, the guard checking whether anyone nearby was eavesdropping.

Fortunately, his earlier shouting had already chased off the few residents out for a stroll. Once satisfied, the guard lowered his voice, “Go ahead.”

“The situation is urgent. This is an expert from the Kingdom. We need to use the spire to reach the underground. We’re asking for your help!”

The man fell silent, hesitating several times before finally speaking. “Why?”

Being asked for reasons was always the hardest part. Too personal a motive would be misunderstood; being enigmatic only hampered communication. Luckily, he’d learned from his seniors a universally accepted answer—if you spoke with a clear conscience, you could say it at any time.

He remembered the elder’s thumbs-up and imitated his tone without hesitation: “To protect the peace and safety of this city.”

“…Alright.”

The guard responded curtly. He took out his device, searched for a spot, and pressed it against the spire. Removing his gloves, he placed his fingers on the device and uttered a series of irregular syllables in a unique rhythm.

Before their astonished eyes, artificial cuts appeared on the smooth surface at the base of the spire, and a square “door” opened from within, revealing a spacious interior.

“This is…!”

The hunter exclaimed in awe. She had seen so many things today she’d never known existed.

Where the ground should have been was a circular steel platform, with alloy braces extending from its sides for support.

The guard motioned them inside the tower. After manipulating controls outside, he said, “I’ve only ever entered the shallow layers during routine maintenance. Further down, I know nothing. I’ve set it to maximum speed—hold tight when you’re inside… Good luck, you two.”

“I will. Thank you.”

With the conversation ended, the door to the spire closed silently. After a brief darkness, a faint light illuminated the platform where the two stood.

Gongsun Ce and Alice simultaneously experienced the sensation of weightlessness as the elevator descended. Realizing the platform was moving rapidly downward, they both grabbed the railings.

“Isn’t this place—ah!”

The hunter’s words were cut off by her own gasp of surprise as the platform swept through a steep curve; the pristine wall of the tower seemed about to collide with her head. The psychic used his power to pull his companion away, the tower wall barely grazing her hair.

“You were distracted.”

“Sorry, I was too stunned.”

At this point, their journey was less an elevator ride than a surf down a slanted track atop the platform. Whether due to psychological stress from the confined space, the youth felt the track growing ever steeper.

If this continued, the passage inside the spire would soon trend from vertical to nearly horizontal, and then…

“Are we… heading to the Central District?”

Alice voiced his thought.

“I think so. If the dragon’s core lies at the very center of its body—at the boundary between the Central and Thorn Districts—then we’re undoubtedly heading to the most crucial area.”

Gongsun Ce glanced sideways at his companion. He could see urgency and unease in her eyes, but also curiosity and delight at venturing into the unknown. If it were another expert from a different faction, surely they wouldn’t react like this? No, if it were a specialist cultivated in an official capacity, he himself would never have been drawn in from the sidelines. Perhaps only this impromptu, half-recruited hunter would abandon protocol and act so.

He thought again of how she had yet to reveal her real name.

Alice Aidal was merely a pseudonym for missions; he knew little about the blue-haired hunter herself.

But he, too, had many things he hadn’t told her. Despite fighting together several times and chatting like friends, their acquaintance had lasted less than half a day—hardly enough to call each other friends, perhaps not even familiar.

With that in mind, the youth sighed inwardly, understanding now why she had spoken as she did.

Would she mention him to her friends after all was said and done? Asking such questions meant the hunter would leave once everything ended; their brief companionship would naturally dissolve. Unfamiliar ties, friendships yet to form—all would vanish silently with distance and a parting word, becoming the stuff of casual conversation or faded memories after some time. Cherishing a chance encounter—such notions were for children alone!

Gongsun Ce sighed quietly, feeling his own immaturity.

The hunter’s voice came from beside him: “It’s rare for you to be silent so long.”

“I was thinking about what happens after this, like, what is Miss Alice’s real name.”

He immediately regretted saying it.

It sounded like flirting.

Alice exaggeratedly pointed at his face. “I’m so worried I can barely breathe, and you’re thinking about my name?! You’re really something!”

“I can see your concern, but somehow, Miss Alice seems very happy to be heading underground.”

The blue-haired woman looked a bit embarrassed. “Is it that obvious…?”

“Your eyes are sparkling.”

“That’s too much!”

Call it artistic expression, perhaps.

“The hunter acting more like an adventurer.”

“You can hardly blame me! Who wouldn’t be curious about what lies inside the dragon’s belly, or what the underground of the flying city looks like? Worried we might not beat the dragon fanatics, yet excited by this unexpected adventure—that’s the contradiction at the heart of humanity!”

Who could say?

For some older folks with deep-rooted beliefs, where they were headed might be more taboo than hell. Those curious about it could be called audacious; those happy about it deserved a label for their unusual mindset.

The youth pushed up his glasses. “With your curiosity, you’d make a better researcher than a hunter.”

Alice rolled her eyes. “Absolutely not. I hate researchers the most—they have no humanity!”

How did she equate scientists with inhumanity?

Not every lab coat was like those at the city’s university.

By now, the descending track had surpassed the forty-five degree mark. The platform bearing them flashed warning lights and began to slow. The bespectacled youth noticed the passageways seemed thinner, no longer as thick as the tower walls had been above; he guessed this signaled their approach to the lower levels.

Alice spoke up, taking the initiative.

“You really care, huh? The real name?”

“I think a name, like a face, is one of the symbols of being human. If you always call someone by a code or alias, it’s like talking to a person wearing a mask, and it feels strangely unequal.”

“You’re so troublesome. Honestly, what’s so special about my name…” She crossed her arms and turned aside. “Fine then—when all this is over, when we part ways, I’ll tell you my real name.”

“It’s a deal.”

Not good.

Her gesture and reply—why did it feel like he’d succeeded at flirting?

Reflecting, his words had sounded like “I care about you,” hadn’t they? To say such a thing to a woman he’d known less than a day—how tactless! If his friends learned of this, he’d never hear the end of it…

Gongsun Ce was about to say more, but upon seeing what lay ahead, he quickly gathered his thoughts and focused.

At the end of the track was a station-like structure; after transporting them there, the platform halted completely.

The psychic and the hunter stepped onto the station within the white tower, facing a path blocked by a heavy steel door, as formidable as a vault.

Gongsun Ce pointed ahead. “Miss Alice, can Shadow Orchid teleport you somewhere you can’t see?”

The hunter replied, “I sense no shadows beyond the door. Can you create a white barrier in a place you can’t see?”

“I’ll try.”

He imagined the scene beyond the door—a space at least as broad as the track, easily accommodating them side by side. The door shouldn’t be several meters thick, for that would make routine operations—assuming such operations happen here—exceptionally difficult. Gongsun Ce aimed for a point six and a half meters ahead.

He pictured a hemispherical white substance appearing on the other side, like a snow hut.

The cognitive obstacle posed by invisibility was far greater than mere distance. Manifesting his power in a place unknown to him was much harder than wielding it within sight. He concentrated, banishing all stray thoughts, and after nearly ten seconds, finally sensed the white substance settling.

“About 6.5 meters ahead of me—a circular shadow cast by a white dome.”

“Alright, don’t speak…”

Alice closed her eyes, waited in silence for a few seconds, then placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Shadow Orchid.”

Accompanied by the indescribable discomfort of teleportation, they arrived together on the other side.

The psychic withdrew his barrier of white.

What greeted them was a field of green luminescence.