It was 10:40 PM.
The Dungeon’s lighting system had dimmed by one-third according to its preset night mode, making the cave passages, which already relied on artificial illumination, appear even deeper.
Most of the harsh, daylight-like xenon lamps were turned off, leaving only the widely spaced wall lamps and emergency indicators.
They cast dim, yellowish points of light that stretched the undulations of the rock walls and the shadows of the pipes into grotesque shapes.
The air circulation system continued its low hum, and the breeze it carried seemed to hold a trace of nighttime chill.
The alloy door of the core command area slid open silently.
Su Xiji stepped out.
He had changed into a crisp, wrinkle-free dark green general’s service uniform.
The general’s star on his shoulder straps remained clear even in the dim light.
He wore no unnecessary medals or ornaments, and the discipline button at his collar was meticulously fastened.
His pace was steady and unhurried.
Each step on the hardened cave floor produced a clear, rhythmic click.
Most surprising of all was that he had truly not brought a single soldier with him.
Even the leather holster at his waist, which was usually standard equipment, was empty.
The holster’s buckle was undone, swaying gently with his stride.
Just like that, with his hands hanging naturally at his sides, his figure cast a lonely, straight shadow under the long passage lights.
He looked as if he were simply going on an ordinary night patrol rather than attending a meeting fraught with danger where the line between friend and foe was blurred.
Along the way, he encountered small squads of patrolling soldiers.
When they saw him, they immediately stood at attention and saluted.
Their eyes held reverence, but also a hint of subtle confusion — why was the Division Commander out alone late at night?
But no one dared to step forward and ask.
Su Xiji merely gave a slight nod, his pace never breaking.
He passed through the heavily guarded core area passages and entered Area G, which primarily served for resource storage and logistical support.
The guards here saw him as well, saluted, and watched him walk deeper into the facility alone.
His figure gradually merged into the intricate network of warehouse passages in Area G.
Area C0253, Warehouse 4.
This was a medium-sized storage warehouse located in a relatively remote spot, containing mostly non-immediate spare parts and conventional construction materials.
The heavy metal door was currently left ajar by a gap about the width of a palm.
The main lights inside were off, and only an extremely faint light from an unknown corner managed to outline the crates piled near the entrance.
Su Xiji stopped in front of the door.
He looked up at the faded numbers on the warehouse sign, his face expressionless.
He did not knock, call out, or even pause for a second.
He simply reached out and pushed the ajar door open.
*Squeak — *
The door hinges let out a faint, unlubricated friction sound that echoed through the silent corridor.
The interior of the warehouse was even dimmer than it looked from the outside.
The high ceiling was lost in darkness.
Only near the inner section of the warehouse did two low-power work lamps, likely connected temporarily, emit a yellowish glow that barely illuminated a small area.
The air was thick with the scent of dust, machine oil, and metal, along with a faint, almost imperceptible scent of human presence.
Where the light reached, several large storage crates had been pushed together to form a temporary table.
On either side of the table stood an empty ammunition box, serving as chairs.
Two people were currently sitting on the ammunition boxes on the far side.
They were Lin Mo and Chu You.
Hearing the door open, the two looked up simultaneously.
Their gazes pierced through the dim light, landing on the solitary figure entering the room.
Lin Mo had changed into a relatively clean combat uniform that still showed signs of wear.
The wound on his left arm appeared to have been re-bandaged, and he moved without hindrance.
His face was still somewhat pale, but his eyes were sharp and calm, like a wolf on the tundra fixated on its prey.
Chu You sat quietly slightly behind him.
She was still in her sleek outfit, her face partially hidden in the transition between light and shadow, making it hard to see clearly.
Only her eyes reflected the newcomer’s silhouette in the dim yellow light.
Seeing that Su Xiji had truly come alone as promised, a flash of something crossed Lin Mo’s eyes — a mixture of expectation and a more complex emotion.
He slowly stood up.
His movements were not rushed, yet they carried a heavy sense of formality.
He did not speak, merely raising his hand to gesture toward the empty ammunition box opposite him, his gaze calmly meeting Su Xiji’s.
“Division Commander,” Lin Mo began, his voice clear and steady in the empty warehouse, devoid of mockery or provocation, sounding only like a calm statement.
“Please, sit.”
Su Xiji stood at the door, his gaze sweeping over the warehouse interior, the two young people, and the makeshift negotiation table before finally landing on Lin Mo’s face.
The corner of his mouth seemed to twitch almost imperceptibly, and then he nodded.
He showed no stance of wariness or hesitation in his scrutiny.
He acted as if he were truly there to meet two long-lost subordinates or colleagues who might be a bit troublesome.
With a steady pace, he walked through the dim shadows to the ammunition box, flicked the hem of his coat, and sat down composedly.
His movements were as natural as if he were in his private office.
After sitting, he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees with his fingers interlaced in front of him.
His gaze moved slowly across the faces of the two opposite him, eventually settling on Lin Mo.
“Going to all this trouble… kidnapping someone, blowing up a warehouse, and finally using these…”
He glanced at the two black devices placed carelessly in the corner. “… to hold over me.”
Su Xiji’s voice was not loud, carrying a tone that mixed exhaustion and curiosity, like an elder facing a rebellious junior.
“Speak,” he said directly, his gaze as piercing as a physical weight.
“What do you want to talk about?”
The warehouse fell silent for a moment, save for the faint sound of airflow from a distant vent.
The yellow light cast flickering shadows across the three faces.
Lin Mo slowly sat back down, facing Su Xiji across the table.
He did not answer immediately, instead carefully and undisguisedly studying Su Xiji’s expression, as if trying to see through to the man’s true thoughts and emotions.
A few seconds later, Lin Mo withdrew his gaze and spoke in a flat tone, as if stating the simplest fact.
“Why bother asking what you already know, Division Commander?”
He spoke slowly, each word clear.
“The phased elastic defense positions, the echeloned firepower points, the preset retreat corridors, and the counter-strike zones…”
“The deployment plans for the three defense lines — 03, 02, and 01 — which you personally helped revise, were ingenious.”
“Even if they couldn’t completely stop the tide-like offensive of the Abnormal Beings, relying on the fortifications and firepower advantage to systematically delay, deplete, and even organize effective counter-attacks should have been easy for over twenty days.”
Lin Mo’s voice echoed in the warehouse, carrying a sense of calm that bordered on cruel dissection.
“Even if our 103rd Division has uneven quality among junior commanders and soldiers, and gaps in equipment and supplies, it should never have come to the point where three defense lines collapsed in just a few days. The collapse was like a mountain falling; it was hard to even form a decent, organized retreat or delaying action.”
“The battlefield situation shouldn’t have been able to deteriorate to such a… hopeless degree.”
He paused, his gaze like an awl piercing toward Su Xiji.
“But the reality is that the battlefield situation has indeed become this rotten.”
“The speed and thoroughness of the collapse exceeded all military common sense and simulations.”
“So, Division Commander — “
Lin Mo leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between him and Su Xiji, the yellow light dancing in his eyes.
“Why?”
He asked those three words softly, yet they carried the weight of a thousand tons.
“The key culprit who caused this outcome, the one who turned the tide of the war… who do you think…”
He made an extremely brief pause here, then articulated the final words with absolute clarity.
“It is?”
The question was thrown out like a stone dropped into a deep pool, waiting for an echo.
Silence fell over the warehouse once more.
Chu You remained quiet at the side, acting as a silent witness, though her gaze was equally fixed on Su Xiji, never wavering.
Su Xiji did not answer immediately.
He just sat there, hands interlaced, the faint, almost indulgent expression on his face gradually fading.
It was replaced by a deep, profound calm.
He lowered his eyelids slightly, looking at the rough metal patterns on the tabletop as if he were truly contemplating the answer to the question.
Time ticked by, second by second, with only the dust motes dancing slowly in the light.
About half a minute passed.
Su Xiji slowly raised his head, his gaze meeting Lin Mo’s again.
There was no anger on his face from being questioned, nor any urgency to defend himself.
Then, the corners of his mouth suddenly curled upward, forming a distinct smile.
There was no warmth in that smile; instead, it carried a strange, almost self-mocking playfulness.
“You believe,” Su Xiji began, his voice steady yet like a sword being slowly unsheathed, “that I am the traitor?”
He directly pointed out the sharpest, core accusation beneath Lin Mo’s question.
Lin Mo’s expression did not change.
He showed neither the embarrassment of being seen through nor the hesitation of being countered.
He met Su Xiji’s gaze, his tone still flat, as if discussing the weather.
“Analyzing all the clues we currently hold — including your abnormal troop contractions and movements before the battle, the deliberate interference with or neglect of the command communication systems, the abandonment of the battle situation that clearly defies military logic, the purging and control of internal dissenters, and…”
His gaze swept over the two black devices.
“These little items of unknown origin. Therefore, the possibility that you defected is… very high.”
He didn’t say ‘you are’; he said ‘the possibility is very high.’
This was a cautious offensive, leaving room for maneuver while exerting even greater pressure.
Hearing the accusation that logically linked almost all of his recent abnormal behaviors, Su Xiji didn’t explode in rage or deny it.
Instead, he gave a slight nod.
“Mmh,” he let out an ambiguous low hum, the smile on his face seeming to widen slightly, carrying an almost absurd sense of agreement.
“Indeed,” Su Xiji said, his tone so frank it was unnerving.
“The logic is sound, and the chain of evidence seems to connect.”
“I, Su Xiji, truly look like that… traitor who sold out the defense lines, buried the troops, and pushed Beihai and even more people toward a dead end.”
He had actually admitted to the logical validity of Lin Mo’s accusation.
However, just as alarm bells began to ring in the minds of Lin Mo and Chu You, and they started to wonder what deep meaning lay behind such frankness, Su Xiji suddenly leaned forward.
This movement broke the previously balanced negotiation distance.
His face moved closer to Lin Mo’s, the yellow light reflecting two deep points of light in his eyes.
At the same time, the playful, almost self-mocking smile on his face vanished instantly.
In its place was an incredibly sharp gaze that seemed capable of piercing through a person’s soul.
His eyes locked onto Lin Mo’s, not letting a single subtle flicker of emotion escape.
Then, he spoke, his voice lowered but carrying a subversive, almost provocative power.
“But…”
“What makes you think…”
He made a brief pause here, as if to let every following word crash heavily into the listener’s heart.
“The traitor has to be me?”