Chapter 9: Underground Base

Jay Showyer came over carrying two cups of instant noodles. He even thoughtfully added a sausage to Ethan Greaves's. "I remember there isn't a knife in here." Faye Gilholm glanced at it and couldn't help asking, "So how did you cut it into little sections?" Jay Showyer looked smug as he started adding ham to his own noodles. He took a bite and spat it out. Took another bite and spat it out. Faye stared, dumbfounded. "You sure Ethan Greaves won't mind?" "He doesn't know, does he?" Jay said, perfectly righteous. Faye didn't answer. A moment later, she checked the watch on her wrist and frowned. "Go in and take a look." Jay laughed. "He's a grown man. What, he's going to fall into a septic pit?" "He's been in there fifteen minutes," Faye said, her voice turning hard. Jay froze, finally sensing something was off. "I'll go check. Don't steal any," he said, already breaking into a jog. Faye ignored him. Less than a minute later, Jay sprinted back, drenched in sweat. "Som… something happened!" Faye's nerves snapped tight. "Ethan Greaves… he's gone!" Jay's tongue tripped over the words. "What?!" Just as she'd feared. The moment Jay finished, Faye's face changed sharply. She glared at him like she could kill him on the spot. "Say that again?" Jay was sweating just as badly. "Move. Go look!" Faye didn't actually wait for him to "say it again." The priority was finding Ethan Greaves, not wasting time on pointless blame. Besides, in a situation like this, she didn't want to accuse anyone, even if Jay really had been the one assigned to keep an eye on him. On the way, Jay panted out an explanation, still slick with sweat. "He went in there to use the bathroom. He just… never came out. When I went back to get him, he was gone." Faye didn't respond. She charged straight into the restroom, startling two guys at the urinals so badly they sprayed all over the floor. Bang! Faye kicked a stall door open. The man squatting inside jerked so hard he practically pinched it off, staring at the woman in front of him with his mouth hanging open. "What are you staring at? Finish your business!" Faye tore through the restroom, but there was no sign of Ethan Greaves. "Check the cameras," she said, standing at the entrance. Jay went speechless. "Are you kidding? This is the men's room. How would there be cameras in here?" Faye clenched her fists until her knuckles went white. "Find him. We have to find him." Ethan Greaves carried too many secrets. First, they had to confirm whether he'd had an awakening and become transcendent, and whether he was a priestess. Second, they needed to know what was going on with Ivy Spears. "If we can't find Ethan Greaves," Faye said, sounding drained, "then you and I can spend the rest of our lives standing guard outside the bathroom." … A black hood covered Ethan Greaves's head, but his body wasn't tied up. The moment he stepped out of the restroom, the hood had dropped over him. A muffled voice had rumbled in his ear. "Don't scream. Come with us." He could tell he was in a sedan, seated in the middle of the back row, with a man on each side. The heavy stink of tobacco and sweat coming off them felt strangely familiar. He thought for a second, and understanding clicked into place. They were the two men who'd been smoking and chatting outside the restroom earlier. When he'd passed them, their smell had been hard to forget. What unsettled him more was the subtle shift in his own body. In the past, he never would've been this sensitive to scent, and he definitely wouldn't have identified it this quickly. Even so, Ethan didn't play smart and call them out. If they'd hooded him, they clearly didn't want him remembering faces. Making a scene would only get him killed. The ride stayed smooth for about one to two hours. They drove fast, which meant they were probably still on the highway. Gradually, the speed dropped. The road turned rough and broken, and Ethan bounced so hard in the back seat it felt like his bones were coming loose. Another forty or fifty minutes passed before the car finally stopped. "Kid, get out," the muffled voice said again. As he spoke, he yanked the hood off Ethan's head. The sunlight was blinding after all that darkness. Ethan raised an arm on instinct, squinting until, after a few seconds, his eyes adjusted. The two middle-aged men didn't care at all that he could see their faces. Ethan's heart sank. This was bad. They weren't planning to let him walk away alive. The young guy in the driver's seat laughed. "This kid can hold it in. Whole way here, he didn't say a single word. Huh… a little clever." The man on Ethan's left chuckled and hauled him out of the car. Ethan scanned the area. He seemed to be in the yard of an abandoned factory. Behind him stood two rust-streaked iron gates. Most of the wall's plaster had peeled away, exposing dull gray cement bricks underneath. They dragged him into the dim interior. Between faded slogans on the walls and old machines coated in dust, he could roughly tell what this place used to be. A distillery. Cold spread through Ethan's chest. Objectively speaking, this was the perfect place to kill someone and strip them clean. They shoved him forward. After a brief hesitation, Ethan said, "The Demon Suppression Bureau values me. If I die in your hands, they won't let you off." The two middle-aged men exchanged a glance and laughed. "Oh?" one of them said. "How much does the Demon Suppression Bureau value you?" Ethan knew he'd exaggerated. He only wanted to pressure them with the Demon Suppression Bureau's name. Whether it would backfire was something he no longer had time to worry about. They'd already brought him to a place like this. "Relax. We're not planning to kill you." The other man spoke in a low voice. A cigarette was pinched between his fingers, his index finger stained yellow from smoke. Ethan couldn't tell if he should believe that. They led him to a machine. The smoker pressed a red, round button on an iron pillar. The machine rumbled to life and slid slowly to the side, revealing an entrance leading underground. The steps beneath Ethan's feet were metal. Even the walls flanking the staircase were made of dense alloy. After a turn, a wide corridor opened up ahead. Bright lights shone overhead. Every so often, an exhaust fan buzzed and droned. The walls on both sides were the same dense alloy, giving the whole place the unmistakable feel of a secret underground base. Ethan had every reason to believe that if the world ever ended, this would be an ideal place to hide. He desperately hoped Faye and Jay would find it soon. Following the Demon Suppression Bureau, Ethan could keep his nerves steady, because those four words alone gave ordinary people a deep, solid sense of safety. They walked for a while before a man reached out and pushed open a hidden door set seamlessly into the metal wall. "Boss," he called out, "we brought him."