Song

Gradually, people gathered around and watched the scene indifferently.

An elderly man nearby advised, "You young people should disperse quickly; they won't let you into Upper District 3."

Another kind-hearted woman said, "Staying here in this freezing weather will surely make you sick. Your parents worked so hard to raise you, didn't you think about them when you did this?"

"It's impossible to overthrow the corporation in the Federation. Don't let your parents lose their jobs because of it."

At this moment, a student suddenly noticed that some of the protesters who had left earlier were still among the noisy crowd. One of them said, "This kind of protest shouldn't have been started in the first place. What's the point of education reform? Can going to school put food on the table?"

"And they didn't even check the weather forecast before organizing the parade; they insisted on choosing a snowy day!"

Only by doing everything in their power to prove that the march was wrong can these people justify their decision to leave.

Snow from the sky.

Street conversations.

They're like knives blocking the way.

Just like what many adults have told them: You can't succeed.

Hundreds of students stood still, unable to move forward, yet unwilling to retreat.

Some students began to sob quietly. They didn't know what was wrong; they were just doing something right with good intentions, so why didn't anyone understand?

They looked around blankly at the crowd of onlookers and the Security Committee agents in front of them.

The snow suddenly intensified, and a fierce wind howled through the steel forest.

However, at that moment, a thin singing voice suddenly rang out from among the students, carried out despite the snow and knives. Perhaps because of the cold weather, the singing voice was slightly trembling.

Tender yet passionate.

All eyes turned to Zheng Yi, a silver-haired girl, who stood weakly in the snow, softly singing.

"Arise, you starving and freezing slaves!"

"Arise, oh wretched of the world!"

My blood is boiling with passion.

"Fight for the truth."

At first, only one person sang.

Soon, the other students also started singing along.

In the midst of the cold wind, the singing no longer sounded so weak; it began to gain strength.

I don't know who brought this Internationale from the Outer World to the Inner World, and even simplified the lyrics to make them easier to remember.

The students had secretly learned the song before the parade, but they didn't dare to sing it before because the lyrics were too sharp and passionate.

But at this moment, when the conglomerate made the Security Committee tear off its last layer of pretense, the students felt that they had nothing to worry about anymore.

The students let the snowflakes cover their heads and shoulders; they refused to leave and stubbornly continued singing.

Her voice, already hoarse from shouting slogans, continued to strain from singing.

The male student at the very front looked ahead, staring openly at the detectives from the Public Security Management Committee.

There has never been a savior.

"It doesn't rely on gods or emperors."

"To create happiness for humankind."

"We rely entirely on ourselves."

As he sang, the male student's eyes reddened, and tears slid down his cheeks.

He wasn't crying because he felt wronged or in pain, but rather because he was surrounded by hundreds of people singing in a chorus, and his emotions were inexplicably stirred.

They sang the Internationale over and over again, unwilling to leave.

Something unexpected happened: some people in the crowd outside started awkwardly singing along.

At first, only one or two people sang along, but gradually, it grew to one or two hundred people stopping to sing along.

The parade, which had initially seemed somewhat lonely, began to slowly grow in number.

Those who were watching didn't know why they joined in; they just went in on a whim.

The singing grew louder and louder.

Just then, a man in a black coat walked calmly through the snow, holding a still-warm document in his hand.

Heng Society, Li Dongze.

Many people recognized the man.

Then, they watched as Li Dongze approached the agents of the Security Committee and shoved the document in his hand into theirs—it was none other than the legal march approval document that the agents had taken away earlier.

Li Dongze looked at the detective and said softly, "Remember not to use such dirty tricks on children next time."

The next moment, a box truck drove up from the street corner, and two members of the Heng Society dressed in black suits jumped out of the truck. They opened the iron door of the cargo box, and inside were pieces of red cloth.

Immediately afterwards, dozens more members of the Heng Society appeared out of nowhere. They took red cloths from the cargo boxes and distributed them to the students, saying as they did so, "It's so cold. Use these as scarves around your necks; at least the wind won't get in. The food will be arriving soon too, so don't worry."

The students stared blankly at the Heng Society member in front of them, whose tattoos extended all the way down to his neck and even his cheeks.

It always feels a bit eerie when someone is handing out red scarves while saying warm and friendly things.

They discovered that these "scarves" even had "trouser legs," looking like a pair of red long johns cut in half and then turned into scarves.

Seeing the student's strange expression, a member of the Heng Society scratched his head and said, "The boss insisted on a red scarf, saying it would look better, but bright red scarves are really hard to find, so we had to..."

A student accepted the scarf. "Thank you..."

The Heng Society member with a full neck tattoo grinned. "Why the hell are you being so polite with me... cough cough, you're welcome."

Li Dongze looked at the students. "Keep moving forward. No one dares to stop you today. Sooner or later, you won't be in such a sorry state anymore. I look forward to it."

The parade started again, and the soaring chorus did not stop; instead, it grew even louder.

Night has fallen.

But it was no longer cold.

Inside the secret prison, the middle-aged man suddenly became inexplicably anxious.

There was still some time before the agreed-upon secret execution time, but the intelligence reports that were supposed to arrive every five minutes had not been sent.

The middle-aged man paced back and forth in the open space, occasionally turning his head to look at Cheng Xiao, who was standing there. Cheng Xiao was disheveled and his hands and feet were shackled, but he had an uncontrollable arrogance about him.

Just then, everyone heard a faint singing voice coming from above.

The sound became somewhat faint after penetrating the thick walls, but even that faint chorus was full of passionate and high-spirited enthusiasm.

The middle-aged man looked up suddenly, puzzled. What kind of singing could possibly penetrate this place?

He knew perfectly well that they were standing on Woodlands Avenue, right on the border between the 3rd and 5th wards.

Who would have thought that a secret prison was hidden beneath such a prosperous place? It was precisely because of the secret prison's special location that Li Shutong was unable to find it even after searching for eight years.

At this moment, Cheng Xiao and the others listened quietly, and slowly began to hum along. "There has never been a savior, nor is there a need for a god or emperor..."

Cheng Xiao exclaimed, "What a great song!"

The middle-aged man looked at him coldly. "What time is it? You're still in the mood to listen to music?"

"If I hear a good song before I die, I have nothing to regret," Cheng Xiao said with a smile.

After saying that, Cheng Xiao started humming along again. He felt the singing above his head getting louder and louder, and he could now hear the lyrics that he couldn't quite make out before.

The 35 prisoners gradually started singing along. The middle-aged man rushed up to Cheng Xiao and slapped him across the face.

The sound was incredibly clear and loud, yet Cheng Xiao continued singing with a smile on his face, his gaze still fixed on the middle-aged man.

The next moment, the middle-aged man snarled, "Execute him immediately."

A soldier said, "Sir, it's not time yet."

"Never mind, this was part of the plan anyway," the middle-aged man said.

Even when facing execution, Cheng Xiao and the others did not stop singing.

All the soldiers disengaged the safety on their automatic rifles and cocked them.

But Cheng Xiao said regretfully, "What a pity, there were still several lines of lyrics that I didn't hear clearly."

However, at that moment, several soldiers exclaimed in surprise. For some reason, the guns in their hands suddenly slipped out of their grasp and stuck firmly to the concrete ceiling above them.

Screams echoed from the corridor outside the secret prison. Everyone turned to look and saw a 12-man combat squad charging in.

These soldiers all carried black ceramic daggers and wore federal special operations uniforms. They were as fast as ghosts in direct combat, and each of them could take on multiple opponents.

Neither side had any weapons left. The secret prison had 80 guards, but they couldn't even put up the most basic resistance against these 12 men.

The rank insignia on the 12 soldiers were torn off, and no one knew which unit they belonged to, nor did anyone know who had trained these war machines.

The middle-aged man only knew that he was going to face not only these special forces soldiers, but also a superhuman who could control metal!

One superhuman, plus 12 gene warriors—this is practically the ceiling for special forces in the Federation Group Army.

Who's trying to break us out of prison?!

The clatter of combat boots echoed as a young man walked into the secret prison with a smile. He walked across the battlefield as if no one else was there and came to the middle-aged man.

But then they saw that the guns were no longer attached to the ceiling, but were slowly floating in the air and gently falling down.

All 80 pistols flew to the young man's side, their dark muzzles pointing at the middle-aged man opposite him.

"That's a bit strange," the young man chuckled. "I thought there would be strong defenses here, but it turns out to be a bunch of chickens and dogs, none of them even wearing military uniforms, and only equipped with silenced pistols. You guys really don't value these prisoners enough."

The middle-aged man, his face ashen, said, "The secret prison's location is excellent because of its secrecy. If Li Shutong really finds it, even a fully armed guard can't stop a demigod. On the surface, we're just employees of a small company on the ground."

"What you said makes a lot of sense. After all, we're facing Li Shutong. The important thing is to be discreet, not to have strong defenses... I've learned something," the young man smiled.

The middle-aged man said, trembling, "Do you know that breaking into a secret prison requires a court-martial?"

"Just a military court-martial?" the young man asked, somewhat surprised. "I thought it would be a secret execution."

The middle-aged man's eyes widened, cold sweat pouring down his back. He trembled as he said, "Which unit are you from? I'm just following orders..."

The young man laughed and said, "It doesn't matter to the dead which unit I belong to."

As they spoke, the guns hovering around the young man, as if controlled by eighty invisible hands in the air, simultaneously pulled their triggers.

In an instant, gunfire erupted from the muzzle of the silenced gun, riddling the middle-aged man with bullets.

Cheng Xiao and the others watched this scene silently. Years ago, they had heard that some people could control the speed at which metal needles fired bullets, which was terrifying enough.

However, compared to controlling the speed at which the metal needles fired the bullets, the effect of this young man creating a metal storm on his own was clearly more ferocious and effective.

The young man turned to Cheng Xiao and the others and said seriously, "Are you all ready? We need to leave while things are still chaotic on the ground."

"Did Li Shutong send you?" Cheng Xiao asked hesitantly.

The young man laughed, revealing two rows of exceptionally clean teeth. "Although I came to rescue you because of Mr. Li, he cannot command me. We do not belong to the Knights or the Heng Society, and our unit number is also classified. I apologize, but I cannot disclose that information."

Thank you to Scandium, Wu Hui Zhe Xiao Yao, Qian Gu Xiao Shu Tong, and Tian Zhao Yue Du 2856 for becoming new allies of this book. The boss is generous and may the boss make a fortune!