They say the old who refuse to die become thieves. That’s not entirely true, but sometimes it makes perfect sense. This old priest must be pushing eighty, judging by how weak he looks—a real sly old fox. And his dim eyes? Sharp as a hawk, if you ask me.
Sneaking all the way here, she’d run into a ton of people in the lab, not to mention the web of smart surveillance systems—none of them suspected a thing. But facing this old priest, she blew her cover with just one look.
The old guy only froze twice—the first time, he saw right through her disguise: she wasn’t Angelina Capello. The second time, he even figured out where she’d come from. That just proves how deep his ties run with Tiberius Laboratory, maybe even with Aunt Joan Morrow herself. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be so sharp.
“Take me to Tiberius? Finally, a real veteran!” Jill Young wasn’t about to claim she had flawless insight—someone as seasoned as this old priest was hard to read at a glance. But whether his words were genuine or just a trap, as a saint among mortals, she wasn’t likely to get fooled.
Besides, even if the old man had a thousand schemes in mind, how could he pull any of them off with her around? So Jill grabbed his wrist, ready to head out: “Let’s go. This isn’t the place to talk. I’ll get you out first. Three minutes left—move fast and we might make it to the surface.”
“We can’t go,” the old man said, grabbing her back. “Just me isn’t enough. If you want to get into Tiberius, you need to find its coordinates.”
“Coordinates?” She meant location, right? Wasn’t finding this veteran all about getting the location? But seeing how old he was, he probably didn’t remember the exact spot. So Jill nodded, playing along: “Where are the coordinates?”
“I don’t know either, but there’s definitely a clue in the lab’s secret archive,” Father Michael said, totally sure of himself. “We have to go to the archive first and find Tiberius’s coordinates, or we’ll never find that place.”
“What are we waiting for, then? Let’s go!”
Jill stepped out of the cabin, glanced at the surveillance camera in the corridor corner, and waited a few seconds—nothing special happened. Looks like even though she’d busted the cabin’s camera, the smart system hadn’t pinned it on her yet, so her suspicion rating wasn’t high enough to trigger an alarm.
Less than three minutes left.
Jill dragged Father Michael along, striding forward. He was barely holding up, but with Jill’s internal energy surging through him, he managed to keep pace, sweating and panting all the way.
As they moved, Jill kept thinking. Even with Donald Zade’s ‘local tyrant’ status, sneaking into the secret archive was always a hush-hush deal. No way her “Imperial Envoy” cover would let her waltz in. Still, even if she couldn’t storm all the way in, getting close would do. Besides, once three minutes were up, everything was bound to blow up—once the alarm sounded, it’d be full chaos. She’d just have to charge straight in and see what could stop her!
Her spirits soared, and her momentum picked up. But before Jill could reach the platform, a piercing alarm suddenly blared.
“Woo-la—woo-la—woo-la—”
Red warning lights flashed from every corner, turning the already creepy B12 corridor into a blood-red hell. In the distance, she could hear the hiss of ten tunnel gates slamming shut. Boom, boom, boom—one old-fashioned metal door after another sealed off the area, filling the place with the tension of an impending battle.
“Maximum security mode?” Jill stopped in her tracks, dumbfounded. “The old man reveals my identity—nothing happens. I wreck the cameras—still nothing. I fight and tie people up—no problem. But now, when I’m doing absolutely nothing, suddenly the red alert goes off? Don’t tell me this smart system has a super slow reaction, or maybe it just crashed and finally rebooted!”
Dream Monroe couldn’t help but twist her lips—this alarm really came out of nowhere.
But whatever the reason, once the red alert sounded, the whole lab would instantly go into war mode. As the Zade Family’s black-tech research hub, you can bet there were some secret weapons hidden here.
Now what? Do I just fight my way out of B12? Not that I’m sure I’d survive, but with bullets flying, one stray shot could finish off the old man. If my veteran guide dies, who’s gonna lead me out?
Still, looking at the old priest, he was startled but didn’t panic—clearly used to big scenes. “Follow me. The security gates in the corridor are sealed, so we’ll take another route.” With that, Father Michael took the lead, heading deeper into B12.
Jill took a big step forward, scooped him up, and blasted every camera around with a flick of her finger. “Let’s not waste time. You do the thinking, I’ll do the heavy lifting—let’s go!”
Father Michael was a bit stunned by Jill’s strength, but he’d clearly seen this kind of power before. He nodded right away: “Alright, follow my lead—straight ahead, then left…”
They say old horses know the way, and he sure proved it. Under Father Michael’s direction, Jill dashed and zigzagged through the corridors, soon arriving at a massive laboratory.
The lab was at least ten meters high and huge—like a factory or warehouse. Rows of incubation pods lined the place, straight out of a sci-fi movie. Each upright glass capsule was filled with green liquid, with bodies or body parts floating inside—some missing pieces, some with extras.
About half the pods were busted, green fluid spilling everywhere—sticky, wet, and nowhere near cleaned up. Clearly, there’d just been a major accident. Broken organs floated in puddles on the floor, twitching now and then. Bathed in the ghostly green glow and blood-red warning lights, the whole scene was creepy as hell.
Most folks would’ve freaked out, but Jill Young was made of tougher stuff. Compared to the Madman’s lab, this was nothing. The only thing that made her frown was the liquid everywhere—it had that ‘raw serum’ vibe. Overflowing life energy mixed with nasty impurities, perfect for spawning monsters.
Never thought the Zade Family was into this kind of stuff already.
Or rather, never thought the Zade Family had been at this for almost thirty years.
Father Michael looked at it all, half sighing, half reminiscing: “After Tiberius was shut down, the Zade Family built another lab here. They continued the same research, sorted through old results, and tried to crack what they couldn’t before. What you’re seeing is their next step in the ‘Superhuman Serum’ project. Honestly, after more than twenty years, they’ve made zero progress—no one can match her.”
Father Michael shook his head, tossing aside his nostalgia. “Actually, this B12 sector was the first part of the so-called ‘Tiberius’ to be built. Everything above and below ground came later. It’s old, but that’s the beauty of it—Cold War thinking means always digging yourself a hole for a backup plan.”
He hurried to the corner and twisted a mechanism with a creak. Wham—a section of floor popped up, revealing a vault door underneath. The wheel was rusty; no way he could budge it himself.
“Open this door—there’s a tunnel below. But be careful, the lock’s probably rusted. If it breaks, we might be totally…”
Crunch—boom! Jill stomped down, and the vault door frame shattered, rusty iron flying everywhere. She grabbed and yanked, sending the heavy door flying, revealing a pitch-dark hole beneath. Father Michael’s eyes went wide—he’d never seen strength like that before.
With a clang, Jill tossed the door aside, grabbed a pod as a sample, and without another word, hoisted the old man and leapt down into the pit.
Hopefully, she could grab what she needed and get out before the Zade Family’s army closed in.
But what she didn’t know was, the Zade Family’s guards probably weren’t coming for her anytime soon. The red alert wasn’t triggered by her at all.
In the control center, every screen was flashing red. The monitor operator was sweating bullets, shouting orders, scrambling to deploy every force available. But when he glanced at the surveillance feed, he started shaking, terrified.
His arm jerked, knocking his coffee cup off the desk—smash, it shattered on the floor. The operator collapsed into his chair, full of terror and despair: “What the hell happened? Who the hell is it?”
Thick earth blocked everything out. Jill Young had no idea that, above dozens of meters of rock, a wild disaster was hitting the remote farm.
Dark clouds, raging wind, pouring rain, and thunder—the wildest forces of nature hammered the farm. Lightning split the sky, tornadoes carved deep trenches in the earth. Cattle and sheep shrieked, smashing into fences trying to escape, but in the end, they were swept into the sky by the howling wind.
The farm buildings looked old and worn, but were actually built with high-tech materials. They seemed ready to collapse any second, but no prairie wind could bring them down in a hundred years. Now, though, nature’s power tore up trees and smashed houses—walls cracked, tiles flew, and the farm fell apart.
The terrified 'farmers' inside had tied themselves to the ground with ropes, but the berserk tornado snapped them loose and swept them up, or shredded them to bits with flying sand and gravel.
America gets plenty of hurricanes, but no natural tornado ever packed this kind of punch, or lingered this long. This was clearly a targeted attack—no doubt the work of an enemy. And if it were just a thunderstorm, it wouldn’t be enough to break through dozens of meters of earth. But the real enemy had already snuck into the lab, unleashing a slaughter.