终极蓝印/Zhongji Lanyin/The Ultimate Blue Seal 

by Priest

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CHAPTER 85


An emergency response team ran out from inside at once. As soon as they came out of the gate, their eyes were drawn by the very striking crash site. In well-trained fashion, the small team inspected the scene, put out the fire, and checked the vehicles. Meanwhile, “0152,” who had originally been guarding the gate with his cap brim pulled a little low, at some point went missing. 

In less than five minutes, the scene had been completely cleared. Someone pulled open the car door and quickly felt around inside, then suddenly sensed that something was off and called out, “No, this is wrong, there’s no one in…” Before the “side” could leave his mouth, his expression suddenly froze. He pitched forward and lay unmoving. 

The person closest to him froze. Then his eyes suddenly opened wide, and he raised a communicator. “There’s…” 

Again, he had only gotten one word out when a bullet came out of nowhere and passed precisely through his head. Before this person could fall, the third bullet came out of thin air, this time hitting the car’s fuel tank. There was an enormous sound. An explosion took place at the crash site. The people on the perimeter who hadn’t worked out what was going on stepped back. While they were stepping back, Hu Bugui shot three times in a row. The remaining three people also went down. 

It turned out that when he got to work, Hu Bugui was no slower than the legendary sniper 11235. 

Just then, a Utopia member who seemed to have heard the explosion and come out to see what was happening came out of the gate. He immediately saw his companions, who had become horizontal within a few minutes. He was startled. His reaction wasn’t slow, immediately taking a big step back. A bullet brushed past the bridge of his nose and hit the wall, nearly bursting his head in one shot. This person broke out in cold sweat on the spot. His face turned white. He took three steps back in a row and loudly said, “There’s a sniper, someone’s breaking…” 

Then he was shot in the leg and fell forward onto the ground. Next, a shadow fell on him. The Utopia member raised his head in alarm and saw a black gun muzzle. Before another word could leave his mouth, his head turned into a burst watermelon. 

Hu Bugui had sunglasses on and wore the casual clothes that Su Qing had scared up from somewhere—a jacket on the outside and a solid black tank top underneath. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the lines of hard, stylish muscles. He had a machine gun on his back and another in his hands, as well as a pair of handguns at his waist. He looked like an arms dealer, really something like an antisocial insurrectionist. 

With the boldness that comes of great skill, he openly jumped off the wall. He knew that the more of a fuss he made over here, the better. That was how he could draw the other side’s attention and let Su Qing succeed in getting what they had come for. 

Since the Utopia Project had been banned, the majority of the materials concerning it had been destroyed and the old base sealed. No one had been permitted to enter for many years. Su Qing and Hu Bugui had run the risk of coming here for one thing—Zheng Wan’s body. 

After Zheng Wan’s suicide, it was said that her body hadn’t been buried. Instead, it had been preserved through special anti-rotting means by Zheng Qinghua and later deposited in the basement with three layers of protective locks around it. Supposedly, unless you blew up the basement, you wouldn’t be able to get in. 

Zheng Wan’s body had undergone round upon round of examination by forensic experts who would have loved nothing better than to put each of her cells under a microscope and inspect it. There was nothing the matter with it. It seemed that Zheng Qinghua had gone to all this trouble to preserve her body only for the sake of sentiment—if he had such a thing as sentiment. 

For many years, the old base had been forbidden territory. Now that Utopia had at last been restored to legitimacy, Zheng Qinghua had expressed his regrets in the papers that the last research project had fallen through “for certain particular reasons,” and he had taken over the research project’s old base at the first opportunity. 

When Su Qing had taken down the first sentry, he had seen the Utopia logo on his sleeve. 

Utopia had gone public. They had an unknown number of secret bases, hidden all over the world, with all kinds of equipment. So why were they interested in this old base that had been abandoned for many years, where all the materials had been destroyed? 

Su Qing and Hu Bugui had simultaneously thought that someone like Zheng Qinghua, who was so busy conquering the world, wouldn’t have time to indulge in nostalgia when the situation was still unstable. 

So the only thing left in this base was Zheng Wan’s body. Their “fishing plan” would begin with this mysterious grey seal’s corpse. 

Hu Bugui kicked aside the body of the person he had shot dead, then turned and walked around a corner. The miserable devil Su Qing had knocked out and stripped hadn’t woken up yet. Hu Bugui shot him in the head without hesitation. Then he heard urgent footsteps coming. He took two steps forward, pulled the body inside, and hid with it in a corner, his fingers reloading the gun in his hands with extreme steadiness. 

Su Qing, who had come to this profession late in life, still didn’t dare to casually kill people. It wasn’t that he was irresolute or hesitant. It was just that unless he was forced to the extreme of it’s you or me, then it instinctively wouldn’t occur to him to kill. 

Hu Bugui was much more straightforward than him. He was a professional soldier. He had served in the armed police and been assigned to the special forces for his outstanding performance. He had fought drug traffickers at the border and hunted multinational spies. Then he had once again been reassigned to the RZ Unit and crossed swords more than once with blue seals. 

For him, during the performance of a task, there were only two types of people: those who had to be protected, and enemies. 

Hu Bugui adjusted his breathing so it was neither hurried nor slow. When he glimpsed the first person out of the corner of his eye, he resolutely raised his gun and shot, hitting right in the forehead. The person fell back without making a sound. While the second person, nervously holding up a gun, was wildly pointing this way and that, he had already switched to the other side following his planned retreat. Then he got out a hand grenade. The moment he tossed it, he quickly jumped up, curling himself up as small as possible. 

Gunshots immediately sounded behind him. Hu Bugui threw himself forward, nimbly rolling away, silently counting—three, two, one. 

An explosion. There was clamor behind him. He didn’t look back, charging in according to what he remembered of the map General Xiong had given him. 

Compared to his hair-raising experience, Su Qing was having a much easier time. Wearing Utopia clothes, impersonating someone else, he walked around inside easy and carefree. Occasionally he even stopped and properly said hi to others—if someone had looked at him now, they would have found that Su Qing’s face had altered. His cheekbones had become much wider, his chin had changed shape, his eyes had become twice as small, and something had been stuck to his nostrils, making them considerably wider. He had applied special powder that even made the bridge of his nose look like it had sunk considerably. 

He had carried out all of these actions while the others had been distracted by the crash site. It had been accomplished practically within ten steps, natural and flowing. 

But it was still only enough to say hi from afar, using people’s wrong first impressions to fool his way in. He would still be seen through close up. 

He wasn’t worried at all—three years ago, Su Qing had already understood the mode of interaction between Utopia personnel. 

Between them there was both tacit understanding and indifference, like a group of collectively brainwashed robots. After their code had been written, they unfailingly carried out their assignments. There was little communication between them. Without any unusual circumstances that needed to be dealt with, even if they ran into each other, they would only nod at each other from afar. 

He encountered practically no obstacles sneaking in. 

But after about two minutes, Su Qing found that the atmosphere was getting strained. From the communicator’s earpiece came the flat, mechanical voice of the dispatcher giving orders. The personnel inside began to converge in one direction. 

He knew that this was Hu Bugui’s doing. Just then, a man who was directing others to go forward suddenly noticed Su Qing. Pointing at him, he asked, “0152, why have you left your post?” 

Su Qing brought out 0152’s voice. Deliberately speaking quietly, he said, “I have a special circumstance to report.” 

He spoke too quietly. The man couldn’t hear him clearly. He took two steps forward. “What did you say?” 

Su Qing displayed some timely urgency on his face. “It’s like this, I just saw…” 

Just then, the man got close enough to him. Close enough to see that he wasn’t 0152 at all. 

But it was too late. He felt his body go numb and fell down limp with his eyes wide open. He knew nothing more. Su Qing propped up his shoulders in a natural way. Holding him up, he leaned close to his ear as though saying something to him. In the gap between two teams of people running by, he dragged the man away. 

In under thirty seconds, “0152” was gone. A squad captain with the serial number “036,” dressed in Utopia clothes, walked out as though nothing had happened. He seemed to have some urgent business. Not looking around, he hurriedly walked inward against the current of people. 


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