Chapter 268 – The Rebellion on Mount Wundagore
Staring at the retreating space fighters—
Allen stood there dumbfounded as he watched all his teammates get arrested.
All he'd done was activate his stealth mode, fake a crash landing, and pop out for a little dramatic flourish while everyone was mourning.
As a result, he'd accidentally dodged the space fighter's sweep.
"Looks like it's up to me again."
Allen stroked his chin and pondered, "Guess I'll head straight to the High Evolutionary's base and give them a little surprise."
With that decided, he activated the Black Lantern ring and soared into space, heading directly for Mount Wundagore.
…
Towering skyscrapers lined the cities of Mount Wundagore, and the skies buzzed with neatly arranged flying vehicles.
The scene looked like something straight out of a futuristic human sci-fi film.
But walking through the city streets were the native inhabitants—beastmen with distinct animal traits.
They wore crisp clothes and adorned themselves with ornate jewelry, like a mirror version of human civilization.
Except the animal features were far too obvious, as if animal heads had been grafted onto human bodies.
One thing stood out clearly: the more animalistic their features, the more luxurious their attire. On the other hand, those with more human-like appearances were dressed plainly.
Allen, invisible, walked among the crowd, quietly observing.
"The High Evolutionary must be a furry. Really loves beastmen."
He was now facing a problem: Mount Wundagore was enormous, and he had no idea where to begin his search.
"Why is my brain failing me now?"
He smacked his forehead and came up with an idea. "I should just ask the cops."
He quickly spotted a patrolling officer nearby.
Striding over confidently, he dropped his invisibility and politely said, "Comrade, I have a question—"
"AHHH!!!"
Before he could finish, the surrounding pedestrians let out screams of terror.
Several female beastfolk fled in panic, while the braver males stepped up, pointing and shouting.
The fox-featured officer—sporting furry ears and other vulpine traits—stared at him wide-eyed in disbelief.
Allen looked around at the crowd, confused, but spoke with a calm air, "I know I'm handsome. No need to scream like that. Judging by your expressions, I can tell—it's pure jealousy."
"Hands up! Get down and surrender!"
The fox officer aimed her weapon at him. The surrounding beastmen erupted in outrage.
"Kill him! Kill the slave!"
"Lock him in a factory! Work him to death!"
"All runaway slaves should die!"
…
One furious cry after another—the beastmen clearly wished to tear Allen limb from limb.
What a bizarre and twisted world.
Their hatred toward humans was irrational and overwhelming, as if humanity was inherently born to be trampled underfoot as slaves.
BOOM!
A sudden explosion rang out.
It came from across the street—from a bank.
Through the billowing smoke, a group carrying duffel bags fled the building at speed.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Just as Allen was wondering if it was a bank heist, gunshots rang in his ears. Several beastmen were shot dead, sending the rest fleeing in panic.
"If you want to live, follow me!"
The fox officer's attitude changed in a flash. She shouted the command and bolted toward a waiting vehicle.
"Cops and robbers working together?"
Allen's eyes lit up. "This is getting interesting."
For the moment, he forgot all about rescuing his teammates—this show was too good to miss.
He hopped into the vehicle. The robbers removed their masks—every one of them looked human. Only one or two had minor beast traits, like animal ears or a nose, but they were otherwise indistinguishable from regular humans.
"Ansewei, who's this?"
The leader glanced at Allen with suspicion.
If not for his human appearance, they probably would've shot him already.
"No idea. Picked him up off the street. Might be an escaped slave from one of the sweatshops," the fox officer, Ansewei, replied casually.
The leader didn't press further, but warned Allen coldly, "You'd better behave, or don't blame us for being ruthless."
"Got it, pretty boy," Allen nodded seriously.
And just as expected—something unexpected happened.
Police forces arrived in flying vehicles, hot on their tail.
The robbers returned fire from the windows, holding off the pursuit.
After an intense chase, they successfully lost their pursuers and landed on a rooftop.
Allen followed them closely, eventually arriving at a manhole.
As they lifted the cover, the robbers slipped into the sewers below.
A wave of putrid stench hit them instantly.
Allen poked Ansewei with a finger and asked, "Excuse me, officer, where are we headed?"
"You mean you don't know?" Ansewei looked at him like he was a rare species. "Aren't you an escaped slave from the sweatshops?"
"I'm an alien. Just arrived today," Allen said matter-of-factly.
The group froze in unison and turned their weapons on him.
"Check if he has a slave code."
Ansewei checked the back of Allen's neck and gasped. "He doesn't have one."
"What? No slave code?"
"All humans on Mount Wundagore are born slaves. They're all tagged with a code."
"Could he really be an alien?"
"No way. Our tech can't even reach outer space."
…
The robbers were now deeply intrigued and equally skeptical of Allen's claim.
In a flash, Allen conjured up numerous tangible tentacles and restrained them all.
"Do you believe me now?" Allen grinned smugly.
Bound and restrained, they could no longer doubt it—Allen wasn't a slave. His bizarre abilities were like nothing they'd ever seen.
With the misunderstanding cleared up, the group resumed their journey.
Ansewei patiently explained the situation on Mount Wundagore.
On this planet, beastmen were the ruling class, living lives of luxury in the cities aboveground.
Humans, on the other hand, were reduced to pure slaves—confined in sweatshops, forced to work endlessly day and night until death.
Some escaped and lived in the sewers or far from the cities, forming a resistance army in hopes of one day overthrowing the beastmen's rule.
They were part of a suicide squad. The money they looted from banks went toward buying weapons and freeing more of their people.
"But… you're a beastman," Allen looked at Ansewei's twitching animal ears, confused about her connection to humanity.
"These are just props," Ansewei removed the ears and pulled off tufts of fake fur from her face. "In beastman society, the more human you look, the lower your status. A lot of discontent half-beastfolk have trade relations with the resistance."
After a detailed chat, Allen realized something far more troubling.
It was clear the High Evolutionary had deliberately sealed off large portions of information, keeping the population convinced their civilization had never reached the stars.
This was the High Evolutionary's true genius—maintaining control by exploiting the information gap.
He likely allowed the resistance to exist on purpose—to keep the beastmen living in a state of fear and oppression.
"What if I told you… my spaceship was destroyed by the High Evolutionary's forces?" Allen said with a wicked smirk, rubbing salt in the wound.
"Who's the High Evolutionary?" Ansewei asked blankly.
"…"