Seeking Truth with a Sword-Chapter 624 - 565: The Station
The eerie scene left the men in black suits frozen in place; their leader, the first to react, fired his gun.
CLANG, CLANG, CLANG—
The ferrofluid-like material gathered spontaneously. Like a tank’s explosive reactive armor, each time a bullet approached, spikes would erupt from the material, deflecting the projectile.
His vision filled with sparks from bursting warheads. Li Ang instinctively swung his hand, and the black material formed chains. They shot out, instantly crossing most of the carriage and piercing the black-suited leader’s chest.
The leader lowered his head, his expression dazed as he watched the chains, which seemed to rise and fall as if breathing. A half-formed curse brewed in his mouth.
SWOOSH!
Innumerable sharp spikes erupted from the chains’ surface. The entire chain split into five strands, each drilling into the black-suited leader’s head and limbs.
Then, they pulled hard in five different directions.
SPLATTER!
The carriage filled with the stench of blood.
The five black spikes, their momentum undiminished and trailing mangled limbs, shattered the glass. They extended out of the window, pinning the severed limbs against the subway tunnel wall. As the train sped on, the limbs were ground into a bloody paste.
"AHHH!"
Not just the ordinary passengers, but all the men in black suits were driven mad with terror and instinctively raised their guns, firing at Li Ang.
Bullets flew. The embedded light bulbs in the carriage ceiling shattered, the residual light flickering erratically, illuminating the black chains as they darted about.
The air filled with the sounds of tearing limbs, snapping bones, agonized screams, and heavy thuds as bodies hit the floor.
By the time the lighting finally stabilized, Li Ang was the only one left standing in the middle of the carriage.
The chain-like black material dispersed, spreading out into a web-like formation. Like a pathogen, it clung to the train’s ceiling, rapidly expanding.
It devoured metal components as it spread along the train.
The train’s ceiling peeled off inch by inch, and a fierce wind rushed in.
On the floor, blood pooled, mingling with glass shards, bullet casings, and fragments of flesh. The surviving passengers shivered, pulling their feet away from the pools of blood, not daring to make a sound.
The men in black suits in the carriages ahead and behind saw the black material spreading across the ceiling above them and heard the commotion. Hesitantly, they pulled open the connecting doors to check the situation.
The black material on the ceiling suddenly erupted, shooting out arm-thick spikes. These spikes impaled every man in a black suit from above, pinning them to the floor of their respective carriages. This included the members at the rear of the train who had taken the driver hostage.
The men in black suits died simultaneously. Their hands lost all strength, and their guns clattered to the ground.
Li Ang staggered, his body lurching forward, and he had to grab a handrail to keep from falling.
He and the black material seemed to share some profound, unseen connection, allowing him to "share" its sensations.
Hearing, sight, touch.
A torrent of complex information flooded his mind. The disorienting sensation of suddenly possessing extra sensory organs made him feel as if his brain was about to explode. His eyes became bloodshot, and his breathing grew ragged.
Stop! Stop!!
He screamed silently in his mind. All the black material that was still devouring the train’s metal paused, ceasing its consumption.
It re-coalesced, condensed, flowed back to the first carriage, and slowly adhered to the back of Li Ang’s hand.
It changed color, blending seamlessly with the skin on the back of his hand.
DING-DONG.
Passengers on the platform, standing behind the yellow line and completely oblivious to what had transpired, were still playing on their phones, waiting for the subway.
Then, they saw a battered, blood-soaked train slowly decelerate and stop at the platform’s edge.
The electronically controlled carriage doors opened all at once.
Passengers from inside the carriage surged out, crying and screaming. This swept up the bewildered crowd on the platform, who also began to flee in panic.
Li Ang, feeling dizzy and his head swimming, lagged slightly behind. He shook his head, forcing himself to calm down, grabbed all his bags from under the seat, and squeezed out of the carriage with the crowd, fleeing up the steps out of the subway station.
"Taxi!"
He followed the crowd to street level and loudly hailed a taxi, pulled open the door, and jumped in, throwing a thick wad of cash onto the passenger seat amidst the driver’s disgruntled protests.
Seeing the thick wad of cash, the driver clicked his tongue and reluctantly asked, "Where do you want to go, sir?"
Li Ang subconsciously gave the name of his hotel. As the car started moving, he clutched his forehead in pain.
What on earth was this black substance? Why did it emerge from the back of my hand?
WEE-OO WEE-OO—
Police sirens wailed incessantly on the road. Numerous police cars sped towards the subway station, and helicopter searchlights cut through the sky.
The driver curiously peered out the window, muttering to himself in confusion.
Li Ang, sitting in the backseat, paid no attention to the driver and continued to knead his own forehead.
The men in black suits had smashed the surveillance cameras in the carriage right at the start. And when the black substance was... feeding, it also destroyed the surveillance video upload servers for the cameras at the front and rear of the train.
Would the Tokyo police still find me?
Fear and unease welled up inside him. Outside, the dazzling city lights seemed to merge with the flashing red police beacons.
The taxi stopped in front of the hotel. Li Ang got out of the car with his bags, returned to his room, tossed the bags onto the floor, and headed straight to the bathroom.
Under the bright yellow light, his clothes, which should have been riddled with bullet holes, were perfectly intact, and the skin on the back of his hand was unscathed. It was as if everything that had just happened was nothing more than a dream.
No, it wasn’t a dream.
He reached out towards the metal frame of the bathroom mirror. Fine, sand-like tendrils immediately sprouted from his fingertips. With a light scrape, they gouged a long, narrow mark into the metal frame.
The flesh-colored sand turned black and seemed eager to devour more metal, but Li Ang yanked his hand back, away from the frame. The tendrils could only recede, becoming dormant again.
An unknown substance with a strong desire to consume metal?
Li Ang stood stunned for a moment, then immediately rushed back to the bedroom, opened his suitcase, took out the knitted gloves his family had sent, and put them on. He then picked up the remote and turned on the TV.
NHK, Japan Island TV Station, Asahi TV Station, Fuji Television—all were broadcasting emergency news bulletins.
Even Tokyo TV Station, typically unshakeable and set in its ways, had interrupted its regular food program and switched to a news channel.
"...Tokyo City’s underground railway at Omotesando Station was attacked by unknown militants... suspected to be fanatical members of a South Korean religious group... current number of casualties unknown..."
"...Firearms were found at the scene... Ten main subway lines have now been closed..."
"...The suspect had started a live stream during the crime... claiming the apocalypse was near..."
Lengthy news reports flooded the television. Before long, Li Ang’s phone began ringing with one call after another.
His parents, friends, supervisors at work, and even Abe Takano, whom he had met just a few days ago.
Li Ang replied to each, assuring them that he was safe. After hanging up, he sat at the foot of the bed, stunned, for a while, then suddenly remembered the flight he had booked.
Sure enough, he received a text message saying the flight was postponed, with the length of the delay unknown.
Trying to book another flight for a different date, all showed no availability.
