Chapter 100. 134

Seizing the opportunity, Charles lunged at the black-robed Meeh'ek. He couldn't afford for the creature to use that hourglass relic once more.

"%*#;&;#..." The black-robed Meeh'ek uttered rapidly. His fellow monstrous brethren scrambled to form a wall between it and Charles as they desperately tried to widen the gap between the two.

Watching the black-robed Meeh'ek in the crowd raising the hourglass once more, Charles gritted his teeth in determination. He used the Meeh'ek right in front of him as a stepping stone and kicked off of it, launching himself into the air.

His vision widened, and he instantly spotted the black-robed Meeh'ek. However, at this vantage point, he was also vulnerable to the guns below.

Underneath him, several gun barrels pointed upward. As long as the creatures wielding the guns pulled the trigger, Charles would immediately turn into Swiss cheese.

At this crucial moment, the grappling hook shot out of Charles' prosthetic limb and pierced through the palm of the black-robed Meeh'ek in the distance.

The hourglass slipped from the creature's grasp and bounced with a tinkle before it lay still on the ground.

With a forceful yank of the grappling hook, Charles was rapidly pulled toward the black-robed Meeh'ek. Gunshots rang out as bullets struck the ceiling behind him.

Charles' prosthetic limb lifted, and with a downward movement, the protruding chainsaw cleaved through most of the black-robed Meeh'ek's neck.

As blood rained down on Charles, he slowly turned around, his gaze burning with hostility as he stared at the stunned Meeh'eks.

Looking at the human male before them, the Meeh'eks' cross-shaped pupils were filled with apparent fear.

Whirllllll!

The chainsaw revved to life once more. Charles then pounced on them like a ferocious tiger. What transpired afterward needed no description. Without the black-robed Meeh'ek that could use a relic, the remaining Meeh'eks were mere cannon fodders.

Ten minutes later, Charles stood gasping for breath and soaked in fresh blood. He was surrounded by a ring of lifeless Meeh'ek bodies.

He looked at the gunshot wound on his lower leg. Biting down hard on his cheeks, he poked his right index finger in and forcefully dug out the embedded bullet.

"Wait, this thing might be useful,"

Richard said as he controlled Charles' body to pick up the hourglass from the pool of blood.

Leaving behind a trail of bloody footprints, Charles headed toward the exit. It was a flight of stairs, indicating that Laboratory 2 was actually underground.

The outside world seemed bright, and there was a distant cacophony of noises. It felt like the sounds of a bustling summer evening in a plaza.

When Charles emerged from the exit, the sight that greeted him tainted his face with despair.

In frustration and rage, Richard flung the hourglass on the floor and cursed, "Fuck! What's there to fight when there are so many of them?! If they had told us they were this many, we would've just obediently stayed put in the cell!"

Emerging from the exit, they found themselves in a vast square that occupied the area of four football fields.

Within the square, close to ten thousand Meeh'eks were crafting various human tools while a few hundred black-robed Meeh'eks stood guard around the perimeter. Each of them held relics of varying sizes.

The moment Charles appeared, the creatures' gazes immediately turned onto them. Their pupils were void of emotions, but the immense pressure from their collective gazes was too much for Charles to bear.

Richard let out a wry smile and said, "Bro, if we go back now and lock ourselves back in, would they let us off?"

"What's the use of saying this now? It's all your fault!"

"Sigh, I know I was wrong. If we survive this ordeal, I'll surely listen to you next time."

Charles suppressed the fury in his heart and peered into the distance.

He saw the fake city where they had come from. Hope was slim, but as long as he reached that city, he could escape from the creatures' pursuit.

"It's do or die!" Charles exclaimed. Ignoring the Meeh'eks' gazes, he hobbled desperately in the city's direction with his wounded leg in tow.

In a split second, the Meeh'eks in the square moved. Pandemonium broke out as the creatures scattered away from Charles.

A look of surprise flickered across Charles' face before wild elation took over.

He sprinted toward the city. However, one of the black-robed Meeh'eks raised the relic in its hand. Charles suddenly stiffened, and he fell to the ground like a petrified stone statue.

With sluggish movements, Charles turned his eyes onto the black-robed Meeh'eks that were slowly encircling him. He could only watch with his eyes wide open as they forced a mangled, bloody blob of flesh into his mouth, yet he was powerless to stop them.

His consciousness faded, and darkness soon obscured his vision.

When Charles came around this time, the glaring overhead light above him had him instinctively squinting his eyes into narrow slits.

When he had gotten accustomed to the brightness, he scanned his surroundings and realized that he was trapped in a vast, white room.

This time, he was treated with much more

hospitality.

He was bound to a steel frame, his limbs were shackled, and even his torso was wrapped tightly with multiple chains.

He could see a massive glass wall in front of him and several Meeh'eks on the other side of it. They were operating various electronic devices as though they were actively monitoring Charles.

Richard let out a sigh of relief.

"Well, bro. At least we are still alive."

A trace of anger flashed across Charles' eyes. His alter ego was too rash and reckless, but he didn't want to start an argument at this time.

Just then, the door to the side of the room swung open, and a Meeh'ek draped in a robe entered. It held a whip with barbed wires in one hand and a bucket filled with black liquid in its other.

The Meeh'ek briefly submerged the whip into the dark liquid of the bucket before swiftly drawing it out and lashing it toward Charles.

With a brutal snap, the whip made contact with Charles’ flesh. The searing, agonizing pain that followed forced a pained grunt to escape involuntarily from his lips.

After more than a dozen strikes, Charles' flesh was left frayed and raw. The Meeh'ek then left with its whip.

Charles thought that was all to his punishment. However, the pain from a physical whipping was just the beginning. As time passed, the wounds felt as though they were crawling with ants, and the insects were gnawing incessantly at his flesh.

The intense pain sent involuntary shudders rippling through Charles' body. Despite his formidable resolve, the unbearable agony caused him to release piercing screams.

His cries of torment resonated throughout the stark room, intermittently punctuated by Richard's harsh curses and bitter words.

After two strenuous hours, the agonizing torment finally subsided. At this point, Charles was left quivering from the residual agony. Each breath he took came in ragged and heavy gasps.

The iron door swung open with a resounding clank, and another Meeh'ek entered the room. This Meeh'ek didn't bring any instruments of punishment. Instead, it held a pot of mushrooms in his hands. It placed the mushrooms down before Charles and left the room.

Charles was confused. He understood the punishment and the torture they inflicted on him, but what was the meaning of this pot of mushrooms?

Time trickled past. Charles tried his absolute best to ignore the pain searing through his body as he processed the intelligence he had gathered so far. Even if the Meeh'eks numbered many, and the odds were against him, he refused to give up on escaping.

Two hours later, two Meeh'eks entered the room. The one in the lead was draped in a white robe, and the one following behind held a notebook in its hand.

"&*@$￡....." the white-robed Meeh'ek uttered a string of rapid, cacophonous sounds with its elongated lips.

"How many times must I repeat myself? I can't understand a single word you say!" Charles struggled to spit out his words. His energy had been snapped away by the torment earlier.

The white-robed Meeh'ek ignored Charles and continued speaking in an inscrutable, cryptic language. The Meeh'ek behind it feverishly scribbled away on the notebook with the pen in its hand.

Charles looked up and strained his neck slightly to get a glimpse of the notebook. However, he couldn't make heads or tails of the scribbled text. They looked like chaotic clusters of small black dots that reminded him of the text that he had seen on the goods in the fake city.

Just as Charles was pondering what the two Meeh'eks before him were doing, a deep chant resonated in his ears again.

A pained expression appeared on Charles' visage, but there was nothing he could do in his current situation.

He could only grit his teeth and endure it while waiting for the time to pass.

But then, at that very moment, he detected an oddity within the cacophony.

The murmurs in his ears seemed to meld harmoniously with the speech of the Meeh'eks.

A familiar human voice with a low register sounded in his ear. He was stunned to realize that he suddenly understood what these Meeh'eks were saying.

"134, I hope you cease your futile attempts to escape. We have obtained your previous records. You are the instigator behind the 517 Insurrection. If you continue your ways, we can only resort to extreme measures," said the voice.