The sewer outflow tunnel was even more disgusting than Lâm Minh had anticipated.
The stench was overpowering, a noxious cocktail of chemical waste, decaying organic matter, and something indefinably alien that pricked at his senses.
The floor was slick with viscous sludge, and unseen things skittered in the oppressive darkness just beyond the reach of his multi-spectrum goggles.
His Cleansing Flame, manifested as a constant, low-burning aura around his stealth suit, did an admirable job of neutralizing the worst of the airborne toxins and preventing the sludge from directly contacting his gear, but the environment was still profoundly hostile.
He moved with cautious speed, his Qi Sense on maximum alert.
The tunnel twisted and turned, descending deeper into the earth.
Several times, he detected mutated creatures – oversized, multi-legged insects, eyeless, predatory rodents, and worse, things that defied easy classification – lurking in side passages or hidden alcoves.
Most were deterred by the faint, pure heat of his Cleansing Flame aura.
A few, driven by extreme hunger or territorial aggression, attempted to attack, but they were swiftly and silently dispatched by a Qi-infused strike from his crowbar or a targeted burst of his now more potent Cleansing Flame.
He was a Foundation Establishment cultivator; these mundane, if mutated, horrors were little more than nuisances, but they served as a grim reminder of the dangers that festered in the forgotten corners of this war-torn world.
After what felt like hours of navigating the foul labyrinth, the schematics – and his own powerful Qi Sense – indicated he was approaching the projected intersection with Sumitomo's lower-level maintenance shafts.
The air quality improved marginally, the stench of raw sewage giving way to the smell of stale, metallic air, damp concrete, and something else… a faint, almost imperceptible hum of dormant machinery.
He found the access point: a heavily rusted, circular metal hatch set into the ceiling of a wider section of the sewer tunnel, exactly where the old schematics had indicated a rarely used emergency outflow valve.
It was sealed tight, clearly untouched for decades.
His breaching charge would have opened it, but the noise was unacceptable.
Instead, he examined the locking mechanism with his goggles.
It was a simple, robust pre-invasion mechanical lock, seized by rust and time.
Lâm Minh focused his Qi, infusing the tip of his crowbar with a concentrated burst of penetrative power.
Carefully, precisely, he began to work on the rusted tumblers and bolts.
It was slow, painstaking work, requiring immense control to avoid snapping the delicate internal components or making too much noise.
His Foundation Establishment strength and Qi manipulation were pushed to their limits in this delicate task.
Finally, with a grating screech that sounded deafening in the oppressive silence, the last bolt gave way.
With a grunt of effort, he pushed the heavy hatch upwards.
It opened into pitch darkness.
He used his Qi Sense to probe the space above.
A vertical shaft, roughly three meters in diameter, ascending into blackness.
No immediate signs of life or active traps.
Securing a micro-grappling hook from his kit to a sturdy section of the hatch frame, he began his ascent, his stealth suit clinging to the shadows.
The maintenance shaft was eerily silent.
Emergency lights, long dead, lined the walls at intervals.
Dust lay thick on every surface.
As he climbed, he passed several sealed access doorways, their markings faded and indecipherable.
He was deep beneath Sumitomo now, in a place that had likely not seen a human presence since before the Madakaros invasion.
According to the schematics, this shaft should eventually lead to a sub-level nexus that branched off into various research and development sectors, including one labeled "Advanced Geothermal Energy Research" – the location of the suspected dormant power core.
That was his initial target area.
If the Maka Legion agent, or their proxies, were using advanced technology or manufacturing Crimson Dream, they would need power.
After ascending for what felt like another hour, his Qi Sense picked up something new.
A faint, rhythmic vibration in the structure of the shaft itself. And a subtle change in the ambient Qi – no longer completely stagnant, but with a faint, almost artificial, thrum.
He was getting closer to something active.
He reached a larger, circular access hatch, this one made of reinforced plasteel, with a more modern, though still pre-invasion, electronic locking mechanism.
This was it – an entry point to one of the deeper, more secure sub-levels.
Lâm Minh carefully examined the lock with his electronic bypass kit.
It was complex, but not beyond his capabilities, especially with the advanced tools Trinh's department had provided.
He set to work, his fingers moving with practiced dexterity, his Qi Sense helping him feel out the delicate internal mechanisms.
Minutes stretched into an eternity.
Finally, a soft click, and a small green light flickered above the hatch. Unlocked.
He took a deep breath, centered his Qi, and slowly pushed the hatch open, his crowbar held ready.
He peered into a long, wide corridor, bathed in the dim, flickering glow of what appeared to be emergency backup power.
The air here was cool, sterile, and carried that same faint hum of active machinery, stronger now.
The walls were lined with conduits and data ports, all of pre-invasion design, but surprisingly well-preserved.
This was not an abandoned ruin.
This section of Sumitomo was… maintained. Or at least, parts of it were still functional.
His Qi Sense immediately detected multiple faint, dormant energy signatures – automated security systems, most likely.
Turrets, laser grids, pressure plates.
He moved with extreme caution, his Shadow Step making him a fleeting ghost in the flickering lights.
His multi-spectrum goggles helped him identify and bypass several obvious traps.
He proceeded down the corridor, following the schematics towards the "Geothermal Research Sector."
The silence was unnerving, broken only by the hum of machinery and the distant drip of water.
Then, he saw it.
Scrawled crudely on a wall panel, almost hidden by shadows, was a familiar alphanumeric sequence: XR-7734.
His heart pounded.
This was it.
The identifier from the Skulls' data chip.
It wasn't just a random code.
It was here, deep within the supposedly abandoned Sumitomo Complex.
Yan's hunch, Trinh's suspicion – they were right.
The presence of the code confirmed this was, or had recently been, part of the Crimson Dream supply chain.
But who had put it there?
And what did it signify?
He continued deeper, his senses now hyper-alert.
The XR-7734 marking appeared again, on a sealed blast door leading into what the schematics labeled as "Geothermal Core Control - Section Alpha." The hum of machinery was loudest here.
This door was far more heavily reinforced than the others.
Lâm Minh knew he couldn't force this door without making a significant amount of noise.
He scanned for an alternative entry.
His Qi Sense detected a ventilation duct running above the corridor, seemingly leading into the control section.
It was small, cramped, but potentially viable.
After ensuring the corridor was clear of active patrols (he hadn't detected any human or Madakaros auras yet, only the dormant automated defenses), he scaled the wall and accessed the duct.
It was a tight squeeze, even for his lean Foundation Establishment frame.
He moved slowly, inch by painstaking inch, the sound of his own breathing loud in his ears.
The duct eventually opened into a grated overlook, high above a vast, cavernous chamber.
And what he saw below made his breath catch in his throat.
The chamber was dominated by a colossal, intricate piece of machinery that pulsed with a deep, resonant energy – the geothermal power core, and it was unmistakably active.
Not at full capacity, perhaps, but generating a significant amount of power.
But that wasn't what shocked him.
Around the core, several figures in what looked like modified hazardous environment suits were working.
They moved with a strange, almost jerky, yet efficient manner.
And their auras… they weren't human.
They weren't Madakaros either, not in the way he recognized the energy signatures of Qi Refining or Foundation Establishment cultivators of that species.
These auras were cold, artificial, almost… robotic.
But imbued with a faint, yet distinctly alien, Qi.
Were these… bio-mechanical constructs?
Drones?
Puppets?
And in the center of the chamber, observing their work from a raised platform, stood a single, cloaked figure.
Even from this distance, even with the figure's back mostly turned to him, Lâm Minh recognized the oppressive, void-like aura he had sensed outside Breaker's garage.
The Maka Legion agent.
Or their direct subordinate.
Here.
In the heart of Sumitomo, overseeing an active power core and utilizing these strange, non-human servitors.
Lâm Minh's mind reeled.
This was far beyond a simple drug manufacturing operation.
This was something… else.
Something far more organized, far more technologically advanced, and far more terrifying.
He had found the hornet's nest.
And it was larger and more complex than anyone had dared to imagine.
He needed to get closer.
He needed to understand what these servitors were doing, what the cloaked figure was planning.
But the risks were astronomical.
If he was detected now…
He took a shaky breath, his Foundation Establishment power a cold comfort against the sheer, overwhelming wrongness of the scene below.
The descent into Sumitomo's abyss had just begun, and he was already staring into the eyes of a cosmic horror.