Zhou Ze had barely stepped out of his room when a pair of cold handcuffs clamped firmly around his wrists.
A young guard stood before him, looking barely over twenty. A conspicuous notch in his right eyebrow lent his angular face a ruthless edge, yet his eyes held resolve and integrity, giving him a somewhat contradictory air.
There was no doubt that this was a new face. The two guards who had previously watched this corridor had died in the last experimental accident.
The thought left Zhou Ze feeling deeply unsettled. In this hellhole, not only were Class-D Personnel treated as disposable, but the security staff probably suffered appalling casualty rates too. He wondered what kind of benefits this organization offered to make these people willing to risk their lives working here.
"Put these on." After locking the handcuffs around Zhou Ze's wrists, the young guard handed him a set of leg irons. Only then did he look up and study him, his expression tightening as though he were checking something.
Zhou Ze obediently bent over and clumsily fastened the leg irons himself. The clinking of metal sounded especially loud in the silent corridor.
Keeping a stern face, the young guard said in a businesslike tone, "D-87465, stay quiet on the way and don't make any unauthorized moves. Otherwise, regulations require me to make things unpleasant for you."
Zhou Ze paused. He could glean nothing useful from the young guard's eyes, and for a moment he could not tell whether the man's words counted as polite or not.
"Oh... understood." Zhou Ze nodded without asking any questions.
"Let's go. You walk ahead. We'll leave the dormitory first." The young guard lifted his chin, motioning for Zhou Ze to move. His muzzle dipped slightly, as though he did not really consider Zhou Ze a threat.
Zhou Ze silently walked to the end of the corridor and took the elevator.
The young guard's rather odd attitude inevitably sent Zhou Ze's thoughts wandering.
Are they taking me to be executed?
Why else would he be so polite to me?
That really is possible...
If that's the case, can Old Yang still make me "get lucky"? How? A jammed bullet? What good would that do...?
No... I shouldn't interpret it so simplistically. If fate really exists, it should start working at an earlier stage...
Like sparing me from execution, or even freeing me from my Class-D Personnel status altogether. That would make more sense...
Right. If these people wanted me dead, I probably wouldn't even have had a chance to return to my room. Why go to the extra trouble of wiping my memory...?
Only then did Zhou Ze begin to feel a little reassured.
For once, Zhou Ze did not silently memorize the route, remaining distracted throughout the journey. When he came back to his senses, he found himself in an unfamiliar area.
People came and went through the spacious, brightly lit corridor in a bustle of activity. Several impeccably suited employees stood at a corner, talking quietly; researchers in white coats hurried past with thick folders in their arms; a cleaner wearing a cap pushed a mop, diligently cleaning the floor until it shone like a mirror.
Lush potted plants lined both sides of the corridor. Not far away was a spacious semicircular lounge, where an enormous floor-to-ceiling window replaced one wall. Sunlight streamed freely inside, bathing the entire space in a warm golden glow.
Beyond the window lay a bustling cityscape. High-rises stood in dense rows, and vehicles flowed endlessly along the streets, painting a picture of urban prosperity.
Zhou Ze stared for a moment. Compared with the oppressive environment of the Class-D Personnel dormitory, this was clearly somewhere normal people lived and worked.
But this hellhole holds so many dangerous contained objects. How could it be in an urban area? That's absurd.
Zhou Ze noticed that ever since they had entered this area, his escort had raised his gun and aimed it at him. Everyone passing by also kept their distance when they saw Zhou Ze's orange prison uniform and the guard behind him.
That was perfectly normal. Zhou Ze would have done the same in their place.
At least it indirectly confirmed that Zhou Ze was not, in fact, on his way to be executed.
A few minutes and several turns later, the two stopped before an unremarkable door. Zhou Ze looked up at its sign, which read: temporary interrogation room 3.
"Go in." The young guard deftly swiped his card to unlock the door. Noticing Zhou Ze's questioning look, he merely shrugged and said flatly, "Don't ask me. I only handle the escort."
Zhou Ze took a deep breath, imagining the questions he might face next, then pushed open the door and slowly stepped inside.
It was a cramped room, its stark white walls and low ceiling creating an oppressive atmosphere. A single crude bench stood forlornly in the center, the room's only furnishing.
A huge pane of glass separated the room from the space on the other side. Zhou Ze could clearly see into the adjoining room.
A broad desk stood before the glass on that side. A long-haired woman was bent over her work, her slender fingers holding a fountain pen as she rapidly wrote something on paper.
Hearing him enter, the woman set down her pen and slowly raised her head, looking straight at Zhou Ze through the glass.
Hers was a memorable face, with bright, intelligent eyes, a high nose bridge, and elegant contours. Her long hair fell like a waterfall, softly framing her features. The corners of her lips lifted slightly in a gentle smile.
Zhou Ze could not help staring for a moment.
It was not that some lecher's little head had taken over his big one. The woman before him simply bore no resemblance to the interrogator he had imagined. There was nothing intimidating about her; instead, her presence felt like a warm spring breeze.
"Hello, Mr. Zhou Ze. You look well." The woman gently brushed aside a loose strand of hair with her slender fingers, her tone warm.
For the first time in so long, Zhou Ze heard his own name from someone other than Old Yang. It left him momentarily dazed.
He instinctively offered a compliment. "Hello, ma'am. You have a lovely smile."
The woman was visibly surprised by Zhou Ze's response. After a pause, she gave a soft laugh and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Wang Lei, and I'm a psychological counselor at Site-17. Please sit."
A psychological counselor?
Isn't she here to interrogate me?
Puzzled, Zhou Ze nevertheless sat down obediently.
Unable to determine this counselor's true intentions, Zhou Ze could only keep reminding himself to watch his words and actions and not reveal anything he should not know.
"Since this happened so suddenly, I'm afraid we can only speak in surroundings like these." Wang Lei smiled apologetically. "Please don't mind. Could we have a proper chat?"
"Chat... about what?" Zhou Ze gave an awkward smile, his guard still firmly up.
He genuinely had no idea what was going on. Had the containment facility already grown suspicious of him and specifically sent someone to fish for information?
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