The Phoenix of the Slums

The train screeched to a halt deep beneath a mountain pass in Wuxi, its old magnetic rails sparking in protest. Tianming stepped off first, gun raised, eyes scanning the cavern around them. It was quiet—eerily so. Zhao followed, helping the frail Dr. Jin down from the car. Fang moved ahead, flashlight sweeping across a dusty corridor carved directly into the bedrock.

“This tunnel was built during the Cold War,” Dr. Jin said, her voice steadier now. “An Orchid fallback shelter. It was repurposed after I turned.”

“You defected?” Tianming asked.

She nodded. “When I realized what they planned for you.”

They emerged into a hidden chamber tucked under an abandoned tea farm. Through a trapdoor and up a concealed ladder, they surfaced in a rustic processing house, the scent of old leaves still clinging to the wood. Tianming pushed open a sliding door—and sunlight spilled across rows of overgrown tea bushes swaying gently in the wind.

Safe. For now.

Inside the house, Fang took position at a boarded-up window. Zhao rigged a security monitor from salvaged parts. Dr. Jin settled at the main table and pulled out a faded folder, weathered from time and heat.

“This,” she said, spreading the papers, “is your origin.”

The file showed scanned blueprints of embryos, gene sequences, old photographs—one of a woman holding a baby, eyes blurred to protect her identity.

“Your mother,” she said, sliding the photo to Tianming.

He froze. The woman looked vaguely familiar—but he couldn’t place where.

“She was a geneticist. Brilliant. She carried the master code of the Seven. You were the only viable child born from that sequence. They called you ‘Subject Zero,’ but you were never meant to be just another weapon. She escaped with you when they found out.”

“And the others?” Fang asked.

“There are six more. Each one embedded in society, their memories tampered with, identities buried. But one of them... you’ve already met.”

Tianming’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

Dr. Jin flipped to another sheet—a surveillance photo of a man wearing a crisp business suit, laughing beside a luxury car dealership in Shanghai. At first glance, just another wealthy elite.

Then the name.

Qin Xie.

Zhao nearly choked. “The Lotus Clan’s financial officer?!”

Tianming’s jaw clenched. “I broke his arm in Chapter 12.”

Dr. Jin gave a grim smile. “And he didn’t fight back, did he? Not with his full strength. Because his other side—the Key inside him—hasn’t been awakened yet.”

Fang leaned forward. “If we’re going after these Keys… we’re not just fighting a criminal syndicate anymore. We’re fighting ourselves. Enhanced versions. With parts of the same code.”

Tianming looked down at his hands. “So what happens if I awaken one of them?”

Dr. Jin didn’t flinch. “They’ll either join you… or destroy you.”

A sudden beeping interrupted them.

Zhao checked the monitor. “We’ve got movement. Two vans just pulled into the lower field. Unmarked. Tactical boots. Silencers.”

“Lotus?” Fang asked.

Dr. Jin shook her head. “Worse. Not the Lotus. The Wolves of Jiangnan.”

Fang’s face went cold. “I thought they were wiped out years ago.”

“They weren’t,” Jin whispered. “They were absorbed. And they’re the ones hunting the Seven.”

Tianming stood, cracking his knuckles. “Then let them come.”