Chapter 11 A Veteran's Secret

Ulanov wore his full-coverage helmet at all times except when he was back at the base—it was practically his trademark. However, this helmet wasn't for show or to look cool, and not entirely to enhance his defensive capabilities. Its true purpose was to keep an old soldier alive and to conceal his terrifying true face.

Hao Ren saw a horrifying man sitting behind a table, tinkering with some kind of device. His face could barely be called human. Large patches of his skin were gone, revealing muscles and bones with a metallic silver sheen. One eyeball was connected by some electronic circuits, barely keeping it from falling out. Where his nose used to be, there was only a metal tube with a valve. A hose ran from the metal tube and connected to a gas cylinder beside the table. And his teeth—there was only a row of neat metal.

Ulanov's true face hidden beneath the helmet was like a skull forged from a mixture of flesh and steel, bizarre and terrifying. Even Hao Ren, who had seen all sorts of strange and inexplicable things, couldn't help but be startled by the sight.

"What...is this?" he couldn't hide his surprise, so he simply asked, "What happened?"

"Sixty-five years ago, I was working near the Nano Sea, observing whether those nano-machine swarms could be used to develop space colonies," Ulanov's remaining facial muscles twitched in coordination with the flexible metal, seeming to attempt a smile at Hao Ren, but it looked almost more terrifying than Izhaks's smile. "I couldn't get out when the 'Overlord' computer crashed, so I was melted—about a third of me."

As Ulanov spoke, he slightly lifted his shirt, and Hao Ren was shocked to see a transparent chest plate underneath. Deformed internal organs and artificial organs pulsed slowly in a pale pink life-support solution, looking like something out of a horror film.

"I'm one of the few survivors of that disaster, and probably the one who's lived the longest," Ulanov pointed to the bed next to him, indicating that Hao Ren could sit down wherever he liked. "Ah, you're probably not interested in all this—did you need something?"

Hao Ren had just recovered from the shock brought about by Ulanov's true face and experiences. He didn't know what to say for a moment, and after sitting on the bed with some restraint, he brought up his original purpose: "Well, I was wondering… if I need to leave the base, who do I need to report to?"

"Leave the base?" Ulanov's voice was questioning. "Where are you going?"

"Just looking around nearby, I at least want to know what my future home is like," Hao Ren shrugged. "And I can't keep bothering you guys here—I don't plan on joining any organization, so I'll have to leave someday."

"I understand Nolan's personality, she probably wouldn't mind you staying here forever, because she doesn't care about that at all," Ulanov said hoarsely. His voice didn't come from his mouth, but from a resonance tube in his throat. His vocal cords had become part of the nano-machine swarm decades ago, and now machines replaced more than half of his physiological functions. "But it's normal for you to think that way. If you want to go out, I can accompany you. I don't have any missions for the time being, and this place isn't peaceful."

"No, no, don't bother, I was a soldier after all, I should have some survival skills," Hao Ren quickly waved his hand. "I just came to ask if there are any procedures to go through to leave the base—this is a military unit after all."

Ulanov chuckled in a hoarse voice: "Ah ha… don't be so formal, the Gray Fox doesn't have so many rules, because Nolan is the only rule here. As long as you don't cause her trouble, no one will cause you any trouble."

Hao Ren said oh, and Ulanov casually grabbed something from the desk drawer and threw it to Hao Ren: "Take this, even if you don't join, the Gray Fox identity can help you avoid a lot of trouble. In this place, only guys with legions behind them are considered people, and those without an identity are 'slag' in the factories."

Hao Ren caught the small metal badge that flew over. It was a small chest card-like thing, with a gray fox head laser-etched on it, the symbol of the Gray Fox Mercenary Corps. In the chaotic Black Street, people were dominated by a strict hierarchy. Cadres from Zero City and the leaders of various legions were the first-class citizens, while soldiers and brokers backed by legions were respected as "citizens." The lowest class were those who had no identity and no ability to fight—they worked in those smoky factories, doing heavy work that could not be replaced by nano-machine swarms, suffering from respiratory diseases and various pollutions, relying on crude food and nerve-numbing drugs made by nano-machine swarms to maintain their short lives. They were called "slag."

Without a legion to vouch for them, visitors who rashly came to Black Street would basically be thrown into the factory within three days. Only a few could come out intact again. And even if they could escape this disaster, surviving in the slums of Black Street would not be much easier than being "slag" in the factory.

This was human society after the collapse of civilization.

Hao Ren had also roughly browsed information about Black Street when searching for information online. Although the information was rudimentary, he still roughly understood the rules and environment of this place, so he knew that this small metal badge should actually be a gift Nolan had instructed to give him, and for an outsider, it was an extremely precious and unexpected gift. He carefully put away the badge and looked curiously at Ulanov: "Are other mercenary groups as easy to deal with as you guys?"

"Others?" Ulanov chuckled, his voice as rough as a damaged old bellows. "You either join them, or you'll be thrown into the factory by them. Most mercenary groups are also involved in human trafficking. You should be glad you met Nolan. She's the toughest and most unconventional mercenary here. She made the rules herself, which is that everyone except her is bullshit—so as long as she approves of someone, that person is basically safe in Black Street, and all the legions will give them some face."

Nolan's face flashed in Hao Ren's mind, the mercenary girl with gray hair who was always expressionless. Her eyes had left an indelible impression on Hao Ren. Looking back now, those eyes seemed to carry a kind of unspeakable detachment and vicissitudes, just like a detached person who had seen through the world, watching the life and death of all beings. Hao Ren couldn't help but feel goosebumps when he recalled this detail. He firmly believed that he saw something in Nolan's eyes that theoretically didn't belong to her: "How old is Nolan… this year?"

"Seventeen or eighteen—no older," Ulanov looked into Hao Ren's eyes and said. "Don't ask any more, that's all I know. The major warlords here are extremely afraid of Nolan. They fear her, and one of the important reasons is that they fear her age. It is said that she single-handedly assassinated two mercenary leaders when she was thirteen, with her bare hands, and in the most brutal way. You may think you saved her life from Hiddon today, but in fact, Nolan probably has more than a hundred ways to kill all the ambushers she encountered today by herself."

Hao Ren was dumbfounded: "Is she Superman?"

"Some people say that she is actually a 'Third Generation Evolver', just disguised as a First Generation, and some people say that she was actually a combat cyborg created before the Far East Alliance was destroyed. You can search for the 'Cyborg Project', it's all very detailed," Ulanov shook his head, put the adjusted breathing filter back into his helmet, took off the breathing tube on his nose, and put on the helmet again. "But I suggest you don't believe any of them, and don't ask Nolan about these things. She usually has a good temper, but when she gets angry, no one is her match… Haha, it feels good to have my face back on."

Ulanov put on his helmet, connected the few lines extending from his shirt under his mask, and pulled up the alloy zipper of his coat again, turning back into a fully enclosed, motorcycle rider-like strange soldier. His helmet provided him with breathing assistance and constantly released electrical signals to ensure that his severely damaged brain could continue to function. The armor he wore under his coat released another set of signals to suppress the remaining nano-machine swarms in his body, to prevent those deadly little things from completely severing his spine. This device, together with the artificial organs in his body, formed a strange and deformed body. They had sustained his life for sixty-five years, and as long as his brain continued to live, this body could continue to survive, living longer than any human.

Sixty-five years ago, he lost one-third of his body, and sixty-five years later today, 80% of the tissues in his body had been updated and transformed. This level of transformation was rare even among Second Generation Evolvers. It was difficult to say whether Ulanov, who had been transformed to this extent, was a human or a living biochemical machine. The only thing that could be determined was that this old soldier was still alive.

Why did he insist on living to this day?

Hao Ren looked at Ulanov's not-so-burly body, knowing that this disfigured veteran must have more stories, but it wasn't time for him to ask clearly yet, so after thanking the other party for telling him so much today, he left Ulanov's room.