### Chapter 21: Sea Without Light 21
The Python Sphere cautiously prowled through the streets, activating equipment to scan the surroundings every few minutes to confirm he wasn’t being followed.
The Harbor Zone of Hei Hai City was dark and quiet at night, with only a few places bustling with activity, such as bars, underground fight arenas, and casinos. This area was under gang control, and even the Investigation Bureau had to tread carefully; bloodshed occurred often in such places.
Crime festered most easily in impoverished and backward areas, where darkness and chaos served as the best camouflage for those lurking there.
The Python Sphere slipped into a small casino, where customers surrounded the gambling tables, shouting and tossing colorful chips, their eyes bloodshot with greed.
Though the Python Sphere had quite the gambling addiction, he wasn’t here today to gamble; he was here to make a deal with an informant and retrieve the Divine Blood that belonged to him.
He silently ascended to the second floor and pushed open the door to room 208.
The room was dimly lit, and a hooded figure sat on an ornate vintage chair.
“You’re three minutes late,” the informant said indifferently.
The Python Sphere didn’t remove his mask or respond immediately; instead, he activated his equipment to scan the room, wary of hidden surveillance devices.
The informant coldly observed the Python Sphere’s cautious movements, waiting for an explanation.
“That woman Thorn Rose is too annoying; she likes to give orders, and I have no choice but to listen to her since she’s my superior,” the Python Sphere said, turning off the scanner. “Just hand over the Divine Blood. That woman went for a beauty treatment, and I’ve finally escaped her control. I need to return to her soon.”
“You’re in such a hurry?” the informant chuckled.
“We agreed, I’ll provide you with information, and in return, you’ll arrange a new identity for me to leave Hei Hai City, along with a vial of Divine Blood,” the Python Sphere said coldly. “This is what I deserve. I’ve taken on so much risk and should receive corresponding value in return. You’re not thinking of going back on your word, are you?”
“We are always true to our commitments,” the informant said, pulling out a small vial filled with dark red liquid. “This is your reward.”
The Python Sphere’s gaze locked onto the vial as he stepped forward to take it, but the informant slightly shifted his hand holding the vial, evading the Python Sphere’s action.
His expression turned grave, and his voice deepened, “What do you mean by this? We had an agreement. You’re supposed to advance me the Divine Blood as payment.”
“Don’t be so tense, Python Sphere. I said we will keep our promise,” the informant said with a smile, in a soothing tone. “There’s just a small matter that requires your help.”
“Hah,” the Python Sphere scoffed. “What did you discuss with me last time? Did you forget after just a few hours? You said I didn’t need to do anything for you, just focus on handing over the information.”
The informant offered a half-hearted apology. “Apologies, this is a recent directive from my superior. I don’t have the authority to refuse you.”
“Then may I ask, do I have the authority to refuse?” the Python Sphere replied.
“You do,” the informant said, “but if you refuse, I can’t give you the Divine Blood.”
The Python Sphere’s temples throbbed with suppressed fury as he said, “Am I just your tool? What do you think of me, a fool?”
“Of course not. You’re an intelligent undercover agent, not a fool at all,” the informant said sincerely.
The Python Sphere replied, “…Damn it!”
His muscular chest heaved violently as he suppressed his anger, saying, “I feel like a boar in the forest, the hunter lays bait on my path, and I follow it step by step, only to find a hunting trap waiting for me at the end.”
“We’re not hunters; we have no intention of hunting you. We are your collaborators, your traders,” the informant said calmly. “You can take this as business; we are negotiating. You have the right to refuse, but you will lose some benefits. You can either accept it, and if you do, you must bear certain investment risks.”
“My collaborators and traders have torn up the contract; is there any need for this transaction to continue?” the Python Sphere asked.
“That’s not correct; it’s not calculable like that,” the informant said. “We are still in the negotiation phase and haven’t signed a formal contract yet. Proposing new additional conditions in the negotiation phase is completely normal.”
The Python Sphere laughed in anger. “I’ve fallen into your trap. Don’t try to use business as an excuse. Have you ever seen anyone die as a result of a failed business investment?”
“Don’t be quick to refuse, Python Sphere,” the informant advised. “What we need you to do this time is really just a small task with low risk. If it’s successful, it will benefit you as well. Why not hear me out before making a decision?”
“Go ahead,” the Python Sphere scrutinized the informant.
He hadn’t refused because he had already taken on substantial risks. Backing out now would render those risks meaningless.
He couldn’t bear to give up like that. The Divine Blood was indeed a tempting bait, luring him step by step forward.
“We have cultivated a new kind of Xenomorph,” the informant said, producing a slender glass tube. At first glance, the tube appeared empty, but when he twisted it open and shone a tiny flashlight on it, its contents suddenly became visible.
It was a slightly writhing red worm, its body as thin as a hair, barely noticeable.
“Phantom Worm,” the informant said. “It is smaller and harder to detect than the Red Demon Spider I gave you before. The Red Demon Spider guarantees death within an hour for anyone it parasitizes, while the Phantom Worm has a longer growth cycle. After a prolonged developmental period, it can burrow into the host’s brain, gradually controlling the host’s body… and even their thoughts.”
The Python Sphere’s eyebrows twitched slightly. “You’re insane.”
The Red Demon Spider was the dark red spider-like Xenomorph that the Python Sphere used to control assassins. In its larval stage, it was the size of a peanut, and once it parasitized a host, it could burrow into the host’s brain within a minute to take control. The Red Demon Spider was also given to him by the informant, who was now presenting him with yet another new Xenomorph.
“Are you using me to find test subjects?” the Python Sphere croaked. “First the Red Demon Spider, and now the Phantom Worm… You’re handing me these dangerous larval Xenomorphs, not just to complete a task but to obtain feedback data…”
“They are stable new breeds,” the informant assured the Python Sphere. “The only uncertainty we have is whether they can operate on Awakened ones, controlling their thoughts.”
The Python Sphere had a foreboding feeling, “Are you trying to make me…?”
“The Thorn Rose next to you has been with you long enough and trusts you. Find an opportunity to have the Phantom Worm parasitize her,” the informant said. “When placed on human skin, the Phantom Worm can burrow in within two seconds, and the sensation feels like a slight mosquito bite.”
He explained logically, “Aren’t you tired of that woman controlling you? This is a great opportunity to use a Xenomorph to control her, and she won’t be able to manage you anymore. The risk of exposure will significantly decrease.”
The Python Sphere was swayed.
His main fear since going undercover stemmed from Thorn Rose. She was too close to him, making him feel like he was walking on thin ice, utterly exhausted. If the Phantom Worm could parasitize her, he wouldn’t have to be so careful anymore.
“I can give it a try… no guarantees for success,” the Python Sphere said. “I will do my best to accomplish this task, but you need to give me the Divine Blood first.”
The informant seemed to contemplate for a moment. “Okay.”
He placed the vial of Divine Blood and the glass tube containing the Phantom Worm into the Python Sphere’s hands, whose eyes glimmered with excitement.
He tucked the container of the Phantom Worm into his pocket, holding the vial of Divine Blood and scrutinizing it for a while.
“What’s wrong? Afraid we poisoned it?” the informant asked.
“Of course not. You still want me to do your bidding,” the Python Sphere replied, feeling alert.
The informant nodded in satisfaction. “As long as you understand.”
He paused for a moment. “I have a few questions to ask you… What are Red’s extraordinary abilities?”
“Dunno, maybe Thorn Rose knows, but she won’t say,” the Python Sphere answered. “I only know the bartender’s abilities, which I have already told you.”
“What is the range of the mental extraordinary abilities of Ambereye and Black Obsidian?”
“Where would I get such detailed data? Do you want me to go ask them?”
“What about Lady Fortune’s extraordinary abilities?”
“No one has ever mentioned what Lady Fortune’s extraordinary abilities are… She and Red are part of the upper echelons; we are all their subordinates. It’s not wise to ask about our superiors’ matters; it could get us into trouble.”
“When do you plan to blow up the port?”
“Before August 8… Didn’t I mention this already? Why are you asking again?”
The informant replied calmly, “It’s nothing. I’m just worried your task arrangements might change… If there are any changes, remember to inform me in time.”
“Understood.” The Python Sphere glanced at him suspiciously.
The agreed-upon time with Thorn Rose was approaching, and the Python Sphere turned to leave. “I will only tolerate this kind of last-minute behavior this once. I know I don’t have much leverage to negotiate with you. You have resources and the initiative… but I, the Python Sphere, can be quite temperamental.”
The informant watched him push the door open and leave.
Once the Python Sphere was gone, the room fell silent.
The informant tilted his head and raised his right hand; the air in one corner of the room rippled slightly, and a vague black shadow abruptly appeared in the corner.
“Did the Python Sphere lie?” the informant asked.
The shadow shook its head.
The informant smiled. “He’s still relatively honest… it’s a pity he can’t get rid of his gambler’s nature.”
Though the Python Sphere was a cautious individual, he was also a gambling addict. This gambling habit influenced his actions to some extent; even he didn’t realize he was gambling, that he was taking risks… perhaps he did realize, but like a true gambler, he fantasized about winning big with a small wager.
When he felt something was off, instead of pulling back in time, he thought only of betting again to recover his costs and gain profit.
—
Silverface trudged into the living room, panting, “I definitely brought enough bullets!”
He unzipped his bulging jacket, revealing small boxes of bullets that he had taped to his body, wrapped in several layers.
“Can’t you bring a bag?” Kui Xin looked at Silverface, who was struggling to peel off the tape and detach the bullet boxes one by one.
“I didn’t realize I forgot to bring a bag until I got there, and there were no backpacks or similar items in the armory… luckily, there was medical wrapping tape, so I stuck the bullets to myself,” Silverface appeared quite proud of his cleverness.
Kui Xin paused, managing a reluctant response. “Well done… just be more careful next time.”
She looked at the scattered equipment and picked up a bulletproof vest to change into.
This new material bulletproof vest was not only lightweight but also sturdy; wearing it wouldn’t hinder her movements and would protect her torso and limbs.
She couldn’t afford to repeat the mistakes of the past; she wouldn’t always be lucky enough to withstand bullets with her iron skull. The bulletproof vest needed to be worn properly, so even when enemies aimed at her torso, she could still survive.
Returning to the living room, Kui Xin checked her gear one last time.
K80 sniper rifle, pistol, magazines, tactical knife, mini-explosives, environmental scanner, communicator, locator, night vision goggles…
“What’s this?” Kui Xin picked up a button-sized black object.
“The optical camouflage projector developed by Headquarters, still in the experimental phase. I brought two back to experiment with,” Silverface pressed a button, and his entire body blended into the surroundings like a chameleon, but when he moved, the camouflage effect diminished.
“Suitable for static camouflage,” Kui Xin commented.
Silverface tossed the button aside. “I don’t need this; I can turn my body transparent.”
Kui Xin activated her wristband to check the map. “We should get going.”
Kui Xin and Thorn Rose had fallen out; after she and the Python Sphere met, she would excuse herself to gather data while leading him to the dock.
On their way to the necessary dock, Kui Xin settled in to wait, preparing to eliminate the Python Sphere.
Thorn Rose had activated real-time positioning, allowing Kui Xin to track her location at all times and confirm the Python Sphere’s whereabouts.
Carrying a gun was too obvious; the weapon could be assembled when they reached the sniper location. Kui Xin carried a box containing K80 parts on her back, securing magazines, knives, and a pistol to her waist, while Silverface took care of the miscellaneous items.
She fastened her mask and adjusted the voice changer, pulling down her hood. She leaped from the balcony on the third floor, heading towards the designated sniper location with Silverface under the cover of night.
