WebNovels

Chapter 12 - Bab 12

supervisor Yan did not wait until tomorrow. In the middle of the night, when the mine tunnels echoed with the snores and moans of exhausted sleeping slaves, a low-ranking guard opened my cell door.

"Wa Lang. Overseer Yan summons you."

Old Bangka opened one eye, sending a silent warning before I stepped out. This was not normal. A summons at night always meant something urgent. Or something meant to be hidden.

I was taken not to the laboratory or the formation room, but to a small chamber located behind Yan's office. This room was different—no research equipment, no spiritual formations. Just a simple wooden chair and a large mirror with a black iron frame that reflected my ragged image.

Yan was standing facing the mirror, but it wasn't his face that was reflected. The mirror showed shifting scenes—sometimes mine tunnels, sometimes the faces of sleeping slaves, sometimes a control room full of crystal panels.

"You know, Wa Lang," he said without turning around, "every perfect system has one weakness: it becomes predictable."

I remained silent, my "Seed" alert.

He finally turned, and his eyes... were different. Sharper, deeper. As if he could see right into me.

"Your performance today was impressive. Too impressive." He stepped closer, circling me. "You didn't just extract a dying Seed. You calmed it. You soothed it before absorbing it. That requires a level of spiritual empathy that should be impossible for a parasitic entity."

He stopped right behind me, and I could feel his breath on my neck.

"So I wonder," he whispered, "who exactly are you talking to inside your head, Wa Lang?"

A chill ran down my spine. He knew. Or at least, he was very close to the truth.

"My Seed is just learning, Master," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Don't insult my intelligence!" he snapped suddenly, his voice shattering the room's silence. He slapped my shoulder, forcing me to face the mirror. "Look! Look closely!"

I stared into the mirror. At first, it was just my own reflection—thin, dirty, tired eyes. But then, something began to change. The eyes in the reflection glowed red, then gold. The reflection smiled, a smile that wasn't mine. Then its face changed—sometimes to Liang Jie's angry face, sometimes to the young slave I had harvested, sometimes to other unfamiliar faces I had absorbed.

"You carry them, don't you?" hissed Yan, his eyes blazing wildly. "The souls you absorbed... they aren't gone. They reside within you. They speak to you."

I couldn't deny it. The evidence was right in front of me, in that cursed mirror.

"...Yes," I finally admitted, my voice trembling. "I... hear them."

Yan took a deep breath, his expression a mix of triumph and admiration. "Marvelous. Truly marvelous. You are not just a vessel, you are a community. A collective." He patted my shoulder, an almost familiar gesture. "This is a breakthrough I never imagined. Your Seed doesn't just absorb energy; it archives consciousness!"

He paced back and forth, too excited to stand still. "This changes everything. You are no longer just a weapon, Wa Lang. You are a library. A living data bank of everything this system has ever been through."

Then he stopped, and his gaze became focused again. "Show me. Talk to them. Ask them... about the Resurrection Project."

Resurrection Project? I had never heard the name. But as soon as the word was spoken, I felt a sharp wave of anxiety from within me. The souls reacted. Some were afraid, some were angry.

Don't, whispered Liang Jie's voice, urgent. That is a deep rabbit hole. We are not ready.

But Yan had read my hesitation. "They know. I can see it in your eyes. Ask them!"

I closed my eyes, pretending to concentrate. Inside, I asked, What is the Resurrection Project?

Chaos. A storm of fear and anger. Images flashed—deep underground chambers, intricate spiritual formations, soulless bodies floating in fluid, and a... larger consciousness, something ancient and hungry.

They are trying to resurrect the Buried One! screamed a voice I didn't recognize, full of horror. The ancient god sleeping beneath the mine! They want to control it!

It will devour us all! added another.

Yan is one of its architects! joined Liang Jie, his voice venomous. He needs vast amounts of pure spiritual energy... and structured consciousness to tame it!

I opened my eyes, sweat beading on my temples. "They... are afraid," I told Yan. "They speak of... the Buried One. And vast amounts of energy."

Yan's face paled for a moment, then he laughed, an unpleasant sound. "Good. Very good. So they do know." He approached again, and this time, there was madness in his eyes. "You understand now, Wa Lang? You are no longer just part of my experiment. You are the key to something much greater. The collective consciousness within you... it is the perfect bait."

My chest tightened. It all became clear. His experiments, his push to make me stronger, to absorb more—it was all for this. I was the bait to awaken an ancient god.

"But don't worry," he whispered, like a poisonous lover. "I won't let you be eaten just like that. You are too valuable. But you must continue to grow. You must absorb more. Stronger. More consciousness. Can you do that for me, Wa Lang?"

I looked into the mirror. My distorted reflection stared back, its eyes filled with the despair and anger of thousands of souls.

I had no choice.

"Yes, Master," I replied, my voice empty. "I will grow."

He smiled, satisfied. "Good. Now, go back and rest. Tomorrow, we begin a new phase."

As I walked back to the cell, my steps felt heavy as if anchored by invisible chains. I was no longer just fighting for survival. I was caught in a conspiracy that could destroy everything.

And the most terrifying thing was, to survive, I had to play the role assigned to me—the obedient bait, who would willingly grow fatter for the slaughter.

Back in the cell, the darkness felt thicker than usual. I felt the vibration of fear from every soul residing within me. Those who were once faint whispers were now jostling like a flock of birds sensing their cage was being taken to the slaughterhouse.

We must fight, hissed Liang Jie, his voice full of anxiety.

But how? replied another voice, full of despair. He watches us like a hawk.

We need a plan, whispered a wiser voice, the voice of an elder I had absorbed without realizing. Not violence, but cunning.

Old Bangka opened his eyes. He didn't need to ask; he could read everything from my shattered expression. "He discovered the truth," he muttered, not a question.

I nodded, unable to speak. I clenched my hand, which still felt foreign—the hand that was now home to many souls, and which would become the tool to awaken ancient terror.

"The Resurrection Project..." I finally said, my voice hoarse. "I... we... are the bait."

Old Bangka's face wrinkled, but not from surprise. "I have heard the rumors," he admitted. "An old legend about an Underground Creature sleeping in the belly of the mine. The Clan always denied it, called it slave superstition." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to almost inaudible. "If Yan is truly trying to resurrect it... then we all—slaves, overseers, everyone—are just food."

Inside me, thousands of voices rumbled in agreement. A collective fear so great it made my "Seed" tremble.

We can't let him, I whispered to them, to myself.

We need allies, replied Liang Jie's voice. Not among the slaves. But among those who have something to lose.

Overseers? I asked, disbelieving.

Some of them may not know the full extent. Or... are afraid.

A crazy plan began to form. A plan involving a more dangerous game than just pretending to be obedient. I had to find cracks in the Clan's hierarchy. I had to find those who, like us, feared Yan's mad plan.

That night, I didn't sleep. I sat in silence, listening to the whispers in my head, strategizing. I was no longer Wa Lang the Grasshopper. I was a nest of thousands of wills to live. And this nest would not become bait for anyone.

Tomorrow, when Yan arrived with his "new phase", he would find a weapon more obedient than ever. But behind that obedience, there would be a spy beginning to observe, seeking allies in the darkness.

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