Chapter 31: So to Speak, Face the Echo-Jellyfish! (Part One)

…A monster? A [Lustborne] strain? …Actual combat?

Lin Yu’s brain froze for three full seconds before finally rebooting.

Ridiculous as it sounded, compared to that suffocating social hell from earlier—where he had no idea how to even breathe properly—this, a situation solvable with guns and brute force, actually… brought him a strange sense of relief.

At least here, he knew exactly what he was supposed to do.

“[Red Fox]!!”

Chen Bing had already slipped fully into commander mode, her voice sharp as a drawn blade, without a hint of hesitation:

“Contact Company Command immediately! Request temporary Class-One information blackout for Sector F-02 and emergency clearance authorization for tourist evacuation! State the cause as ‘suspected gas pipeline leak’! Within ten minutes, I want this aquarium cleared of at least ninety percent of its visitors! At the same time, synchronize the complete structural and surveillance schematics of [Deep-Sea Dreamscape], Building C, to my terminal and [Gray Crystal]’s!”

“Roger!”

The playful mask was gone from Li Qing’s face. What remained was sniper-level calm and focus.

She didn’t spare Lin Yu a glance—just gave a firm nod, then with a grace utterly at odds with her frilly Lolita dress, vaulted to the far corner behind a display board. There, she whipped out her device and began rapid-fire negotiations with Command.

“[Gray Crystal].”

Chen Bing’s gaze pinned Lin Yu like a searchlight.

“Follow me.”

No discussion. No choice.

Her slender, girlish hand clamped around his wrist with unyielding force, yanking him to his feet and dragging him toward a reeking, trash-lined service alley.

There, in a shaft of gloom barely splitting the sky above, Chen Bing transformed.

No hesitation. No internal struggle like Lin Yu suffered whenever he triggered the protocol.

She simply raised a hand and pressed the square black metal badge fixed at her collar.

“[Xuan Iron], initiate.”

No deep-blue brilliance of starlight like Ye Xing’s. No embarrassing pink sparkle halo like Lin Yu’s.

What cloaked her was a dense, orderly aura of iron-grey light.

Not dazzling—heavy. Solid.

With each muffled hum like servers coming online, modular geometric data constructs formed around her, layering and locking into place.

Lin Yu watched as her black tracksuit visibly shifted before his eyes. Soft cotton stiffened, hardening into a weave patterned like carbon fiber mesh.

Next, atop the standard Dawn Company blue JK uniform silhouette, came her own tactical revisions.

The school girl scarf? Its cloth now rigid as hardened polymer, edges sharp, functional.

The pleated skirt? Dyed into an austere navy, each pleat stiffened as if lined with micro ballistic plates.

Then hexagonal soft-gel armor plates materialized and slid into place across her vitals.

When the glow receded, the figure standing before him was no longer just the squad’s “big sister.”

She was something else entirely—an iron-blooded, disciplined “Heavy-Armed Magical Girl,” where the charm of a JK uniform fused seamlessly with the pragmatism of modern tactical gear.

But—

For a fleeting instant, Lin Yu thought he saw the iron-grey light stutter, flicker like a bad projection.

Chen Bing’s brows tightened.

Then it was gone, so quick it could have been a hallucination.

“Quit gawking.”

She rolled her neck; the tactical gorget cracked audibly.

Without a glance back, she ordered:

“Move.”

They didn’t go through the main entrance. Following her terminal’s schematics, they slipped instead to a side employee door marked “Staff Only—No Tourists Beyond.”

Chen Bing hacked the lock with executor-level clearance. The alloy door slid open without a sound.

Beyond lay a different world—cold, metallic, sterile.

Harsh white lights above. Anti-slip grating below. The air thick with disinfectant and faint fish-stink.

From down the corridor came the din of evacuation and the looped AI announcement:

“Warning, warning. Suspected gas leak detected in Building C. Explosion risk. All guests proceed immediately to the A-Sector main exit. This is not a drill—repeat, this is not a drill…”

The two moved quickly through the maze of staff passageways.

When they burst through a fire door into the main exhibit—Lin Yu’s breath caught.

For the first time, he stepped into the landmark of Sector F.

An immense glass dome soared overhead, encasing an oceanic world.

Above them, deep blue waters shimmered, sunlight refracted into dancing mosaics across the floor.

Schools of tropical fish swirled overhead like liquid rainbows. Farther back, leviathan whale sharks and manta rays glided past, spectral and sublime.

It should have been a dream.

Instead, alarm klaxons and panicked footsteps shattered the spell.

Beauty, laced with dread. An apocalypse dressed in aquamarine hues.

“Chen Bing-jie! Ninety-five percent of visitors evacuated!”

Li Qing’s voice cut in through comms—hurried, tense.

“But… heat-sensor mapping shows twelve life signs still stuck in Sublevel B2, Backup Life-Support Room! They’re not moving!”

Chen Bing froze. A translucent schematic flared before her eyes.

Beneath Building C’s main cylinder, twelve unmoving scarlet dots glowed on Sublevel B2.

Pinned in place, right beneath the Coral Cylinder Exhibit.

“No… not trapped.”

Her face darkened. She swiped, pulling their vitals. Her pupils contracted.

“Heart rates, spiking. Body temperature, rising. Neural frequencies… converging. Damn it.”

“What does that mean?” Lin Yu blurted.

Chen Bing turned, spelling it out coldly:

“It means they’ve been caught by the [Echo-Jellyfish]’s psychic frequency. They’re being forcibly converted into Fallen Ones. We have one hour.”

(Fallen Ones?!)

Lin Yu’s training manual surfaced in his mind, its detached definition now seared with horror:

[Fallen Ones]: Humans exposed to high-density subspace energy or pollutant frequencies until mental defenses collapse, soul overwritten. Their biology mutates irreversibly. Rationality lost. Instinct subsumed by the contaminant. By Dawn Company / City Emergency Bureau Protocol Annex III, Article 7, once confirmed, Fallen Ones are classified as equal to pollutant entities. Executors are authorized to enact “physical purification” without delay.

“Physical purification.” In plain words: kill on sight.

When Lin Yu read it in training, it was just sterile text.

Now—knowing twelve living tourists below were sliding into that fate—his spine went ice-cold.

“Go.”

Chen Bing gave no space for hesitation, striding onward.

Lin Yu gritted his teeth, drew his standard-issue psionic pistol, and followed.

The undersea tunnel was silent but for their hurried footfalls.

This dreamlike scenery pressed on him like the insides of a beautiful monster.

“Senior…”

His whisper quivered, betraying fear he didn’t realize.

“Those… Fallen Ones. What… what are they like?”

Chen Bing’s eyes swept every shadow.

“Fallen Ones are failed vessels.”

Her tone was clinical, unfeeling.

“Our [Phase Spirit-Bodies] are vessels engineered to bear positive psionic energy. Ordinary human bodies? Cracked pots full of impurities.”

“And when pollutants—say, the Echo-Jellyfish’s frequencies—flood that cracked pot?”

Her answer was merciless fact.

“Their souls are invaded, overwritten. Their bodies mutate to match the pollutant’s instinct. Their reason is destroyed. They become living carriers of corruption, predators that spread it further.”

“Can they… be changed back?” His throat went dry.

“No.”

Her one word shattered his last shred of hope.

“Neurological mutation is irreversible. Once Fallen, they are no longer human. They are pollutants in human skin.”

She paused—voice dipping lower, colder.

“The worst cases? Strong-willed ones. In the early stages, their consciousness doesn’t vanish right away.”

“They’re trapped in the cockpit, watching helplessly as something else pilots their body—killing, maiming, devouring loved ones. They feel it all. Hear it all. But can’t speak. Can’t resist. Just watch, until the torment grinds their soul to dust.”

…f*ck.

Lin Yu’s heart clenched like a vice.

“So listen, [Gray Crystal].”

Chen Bing stopped, turned, eyes like blades.

“Our mission isn’t just purifying pollutants. It’s freeing those twelve souls before they plunge into that cockpit hell.”

“This is war. Not some experience-building ‘date.’”

“In here, we cannot use large-scale weaponry. Every wall of glass is holding back hundreds of tons of seawater. One crack, and we’re paste. Every shot must be perfect. No waste. Understand?”

“…Understood.”

Lin Yu nodded hard.

“Good.”

Her gaze drilled into him, weighing his resolve. Then she turned forward again.

That was when—

A sickly sweet aroma drifted into the tunnel, unseen mist seeping through the air.

Then, like a thousand angelic voices, a choir of girlsong began to echo.

So beautiful. So soothing.

Drowsiness hit like a wave.

Lin Yu’s vigilance melted. His body begged to rest. To sleep.

“…Tch!”

Pain lanced his tongue—he’d bitten down hard. The sting snapped him awake.

It’s here!

The Echo-Jellyfish’s insidious ability—gentle, inescapable hypnosis.

They locked eyes briefly. Both grim.

No more words.

Silent as predators, they crept toward the source: Building C’s Coral Exhibit.

The entrance was deserted.

Popcorn, soda cups, and a trampled Deep-Sea Dreamscape brochure littered the floor.

The scent. The song. Stronger. More intoxicating.

Lin Yu’s mind felt steeped in honey-water. Thoughts are sluggish. Only by digging nails into his palm could he stay lucid.

They pressed to the wall, peering in—

And saw it.

The colossal cylindrical tank.

Once alive with coral and tropical fish, now ashen, grey, lifeless.

Fish huddled in terror at the edges, too afraid to move.

And at the very heart—

Suspended like a sovereign king—

A jellyfish.

Over three meters across.

Translucent. Radiant.

Its whole body shimmered in rainbow hues, every pulse distorting light and sound.

Like pollen, dazzling motes drifted from its great bell, seeding the water with a paradise that was also poisonous.

An “Elysium Domain,” beautiful and deadly.

Chen Bing inhaled slowly, eyes burning like a hunter’s.

Her voice dropped to a lethal whisper:

“…Found you.”