Chapter 256 - Chapter 256: 205, Song
Chapter 256: 205, Song
Gradually, onlookers began to gather, their expressions indifferent as they watched the scene unfold.
An elderly man nearby advised, “You young people should disperse quickly; they won’t let you enter District 3.”
Another kind-hearted elderly woman added, “Standing out here in this icy and snowy weather will freeze you to the bone. Your parents have raised you with so much hardship, have you not thought of them when you do such things?”
“It’s impossible to overthrow the corporations in the Federation; don’t get your parents fired in the process.”
At that moment, some students suddenly noticed that among the noisy crowd were demonstrators who had left earlier, one of whom said, “There really shouldn’t have been any protest in the first place. What’s the use of education reform? Can going to school feed you?”
“Moreover, they didn’t check the weather forecast when they planned it, insisting on protesting on a Great Snow day!”
After these people left, they had to prove with all their might that the protest was a mistake, in order to justify their own departure as the correct choice.
The snow from above.
The words from the streets.
They were like knives blocking their way.
Just like the many things adults had told them: You will never succeed.
Hundreds of students stood their ground, unable to move forward, yet unwilling to fall back.
Some students began to cry softly, not understanding why; they had only come with passion to do the right thing, so why didn’t anyone understand them?
They looked around blankly, at the spectators and the detectives from the Public Security Management Committee ahead.
The snow suddenly intensified, the frantic wind howling as it passed through the Steel Forest.
Yet, at that moment, a thin song began to resonate among the students, carrying through the snow and knives, its voice trembling slightly due to the cold weather.
Tender yet fervent.
All eyes turned to see Zheng Yi, a silver-haired girl standing weakly in the snow, singing softly.
“Arise, ye who refuse to be slaves!”
“Arise, all who are downtrodden and oppressed.”
“A fiery passion in our hearts, now is awoken.”
“We shall fight for truth and right, our cause unbroken.”
In the beginning, only one person sang.
Soon, other students began to sing along.
In the biting wind, the song grew stronger, no longer frail but powerful.
It was unknown who brought the Internationale from the Outer World to the Inner World, simplifying the lyrics, making them easier to remember.
The students had secretly learned the song before the demonstration, but had not dared to sing it due to its sharp and rousing lyrics.
But at this moment, after the corporations had the Public Security Management Committee strip away the last shred of decency, the students felt there was nothing left to worry about.
The students allowed the snowflakes to cover their heads and shoulders, not wanting to leave, just stubbornly singing their song.
Their throats, already hoarse from shouting slogans, continued to strain for the sake of the song.
The boy at the forefront looked ahead, facing the Public Security Management Committee detectives with an open and fearless gaze.
“Never have we relied on any savior.”
“Nor do we depend on the immortals or emperors.”
“To create the happiness of mankind,”
“It all depends on ourselves.”
As he sang, the boy’s eyes reddened, tears slipping down the corners of his eyes.
He was not crying out of a sense of grievance or pain, but because he was overwhelmed by the emotions of being amidst the chorus of hundreds of people.
They sang the Internationale over and over, refusing to leave.
Then, something unexpected happened. People from the crowd of onlookers also began to sing along clumsily.
At first, only one or two people joined in, but gradually, it turned into a hundred or so people stopping to sing along.
The protest group, which had seemed somewhat lonely, began to slowly grow in numbers.
Those watching didn’t know why they joined, just feeling a sudden impulse to step forward.
The song grew louder and more resonant.
Just then, a man in a black coat calmly approached through the snow, holding a document still warm.
Heng Society, Li Dongze.
Many recognized the man.
Then, they watched Li Dongze approach a detective from the Public Security Management Committee and stuff the document in his hand—the very legal protest permit taken away by the detectives earlier.
Li Dongze looked at the detective and said softly, “Remember, don’t use such dirty tricks on kids next time.”
The next moment, a van arrived at the street corner. Two men in black suits from Heng Society jumped down; they opened the cargo bay’s iron door to reveal several pieces of red fabric.
Suddenly, dozens of Heng Society members emerged from nowhere, taking red fabric from the cargo bay and handing it out to the students, saying, “It’s too cold; wrap these around your necks as scarves, at least it’ll keep the wind out. Food will be here soon too, don’t worry.”
The students stood stunned as they watched the Heng Society members, tattoos spreading up to their necks and even their cheeks.
Such people handing out red scarves and speaking words of warmth and kindness—it felt somewhat eerie.
They realized these “scarves” even had “leggings,” appearing as if a pair of red long-johns had been cut in half to become scarves.
A Heng Society member, noticing the students’ strange expressions, scratched his head, “The boss insisted on red scarves, said they looked better, but bright red scarves are hard to find on short notice, so we had to improvise…”
A student took a scarf, “Thank you…”
The tattoo-necked member of the Heng Society grinned, “You don’t have to thank me…”
Li Dongze looked towards the students, “Keep on moving, nobody dares to stop you today. Sooner or later, there will come a day when you will no longer be in such dire straits, I look forward to it.”
The protest march resumed, and the sky-reaching chorus did not stop—it grew even stronger.
Night fell.
But it was no longer cold.
…
…
In the secret prison, a middle-aged man suddenly became inexplicably anxious.
It was still a while before the agreed time for the secret execution, but the intelligence updates that were supposed to come every five minutes had ceased.
The middle-aged man paced back and forth in the open space, occasionally glancing over at Cheng Xiao, who, despite being unkempt and shackled, stood with an indomitable pride.
At that moment, everyone heard a faint singing coming from above.
The sound, weakened by the thick walls, carried an unwavering passion—fervent and soaring.
The middle-aged man looked up suddenly, puzzled. What kind of singing could penetrate down here?
He knew well that their ceiling was Dense Forest Street, right on the border between District 3 and District 5.
Who would have thought that beneath such a bustling area lay a hidden secret prison? It was precisely because of the prison’s peculiar location that Uncle Li Dong had searched for eight years to no avail.
At this time, Cheng Xiao and the others quietly listened, slowly beginning to hum, “There has never been any savior, nor do we need any immortals or emperors…”
Cheng Xiao commented with emotion, “What a good song.”
The middle-aged man looked at him coldly, “At a time like this, you still have the mood to listen to music?”
“Hearing a good song before death isn’t such a bad thing,” Cheng Xiao said with a smile.
After speaking, Cheng Xiao began to hum again, feeling the chorus from above growing louder; even the previously unclear lyrics were now distinct.
All 35 prisoners gradually joined in the singing. The middle-aged man rushed up to Cheng Xiao and slapped him across the face.
The slap rang out crisp and clear, yet Cheng Xiao continued to sing with a smile on his face, his gaze fixed steadfastly on the middle-aged man.
The next moment, the middle-aged man harshly said, “Proceed with the execution now.”
A soldier said, “Sir, it isn’t time yet.”
“Doesn’t matter, this was always part of the plan,” the middle-aged man said.
Even so, Cheng Xiao and the others did not halt their singing in the face of execution.
All the soldiers disengaged the safeties on their automatic rifles, loading the chambers.
But Cheng Xiao lamented, “What a pity, there are still a few lines of the song I haven’t quite caught.”
At that moment, several soldiers cried out in surprise; the guns in their hands somehow flew out of their grasp, clinging tightly to the concrete ceiling above.
From the corridor outside the secret prison came screams, and everyone turned to look. They saw a squad of 12 storming in.
These soldiers held black ceramic daggers in their hands and wore Federation special combat suits, moving like specters in direct combat, each capable of taking on multiple foes.
With no guns on either side, the 80 guards of the secret prison stood no chance against the 12 soldiers.
The 12 soldiers had removed their unit patches; no one knew to which unit they belonged, nor who had trained these war machines.
The middle-aged man only knew that he was facing not only these special forces soldiers but also a Transcendent with the power to control metal!
A Transcendent, coupled with 12 Genetic Warriors—this was almost the elite configuration of the special forces units within the Federal Army Group.
Who was orchestrating this jailbreak!?
The tap of combat boots approached, and a young man with an amused smile walked into the secret prison. He nonchalantly crossed the battlefield and stopped in front of the middle-aged man.
The guns ceased clinging to the ceiling; they floated gently in the air, gracefully falling.
All 80 pistols flew around the young man, their dark muzzles aimed directly at the middle-aged man across from him.
“It’s a bit strange,” the young man chuckled. “I thought there would be strong defenses in place here, but what we found were just chickens and dogs, none of you even dressed in uniforms, and only equipped with suppressed pistols. You really underestimate these prisoners.”
The middle-aged man, pale as death, said, “The secret prison’s strength lies in its concealment. If Uncle Li Dong found it, even full armament wouldn’t stop a Demigod. To the outside world, we’re just employees of a small surface company.”
“You do have a point. Against someone like Uncle Li Dong, concealment is more crucial than defensive force… I’ve learned something,” the young man smiled.
The middle-aged man trembled, “Don’t you know that breaking into a secret prison would lead to a military tribunal?”
“Is it just a military tribunal?” The young man seemed surprised. “I thought it would be a secret execution.”
The middle-aged man’s eyes widened as a cold sweat streamed down his back. He stammered, “Which unit are you with? I was just following orders too…”
The young man smiled, “No point in a dead man knowing which unit I’m from.”
As he spoke, the guns floating beside the young man seemed to be pulled by eighty invisible hands, all triggering simultaneously.
In an instant, the muzzles with silencers spat out flames, riddling the middle-aged man with holes.
Cheng Xiao and the others watched the scene quietly. They had heard of someone who could control metal needles to shoot at the speed of bullets, terrifying enough as that was.
But compared to controlling metal needles, the young man’s ability to unleash a metallic storm on his own was vicious and effective.
The young man turned to Cheng Xiao and the others, saying seriously, “Are you ready? While it’s still chaos above, we need to make a quick exit.”
“Did Uncle Li Dong send you?” Cheng Xiao hesitated before asking.
The young man started to laugh, showing his particularly clean teeth. “Although I’m here because of Mr. Li, he doesn’t command me. We are not affiliated with the Knights or the Heng Society, and our unit number is confidential. I’m sorry, but I can’t disclose it.”
…
Thanks to Scandium, the Unregretful Wanderer, Little Scholars, and Tian Zhao Yue Du 2856 for becoming the new allies of this book. The bosses are generous, may the bosses make a fortune!