Genshin Impact: The Road to Reversal

Chapter 572 Remnants of Sangyang

"I've said it countless times: 'The Death of Black' needs to devour fresh blood to unleash its maximum toxicity! Healthy adults are strong, but their blood has become 'solidified.' On the contrary, these innocent children, with their pure vitality, are the best culture medium! It will take deep root and endure through the ages!"

The samurai's tone was almost manic; at that moment, he seemed to already see the virus successfully cultivated and wreaking havoc on the battlefield.

“But the success rate of researching this kind of thing on land imbued with purifying power is zero,” the researcher struggled to refute. “As you know, because of the contract with Hyotei, the glaciers naturally reject all ‘abnormal’ mutations and aberrations. Even if it is managed to be cultivated, it will be purified as soon as it comes into contact with the outside air… This is simply an impossible task!”

"Impossible? Don't you know the principle of rowing against the current? It is precisely because the environment is harsh that we must challenge our limits! Only the 'Death of Black' born in such an environment can overturn the divine contract of 'order' in one fell swoop!"

"You're making things extremely difficult for me!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than a series of hurried footsteps came from outside the door.

"What are you doing? The garrison and the knights are practically attacking our home, why aren't you retreating?"

The seasoned police officer strode heavily as he anxiously approached the lab table.

Seeing this, the samurai's emotions calmed down slightly.

"Oh, it's Mr. Harkrow. What brings you here?"

The elderly police officer named Harklow was the same one who had questioned Clementine earlier at the garrison. Hearing this, his anger intensified: "Don't try to fool me, they've already made their move. I barely managed to escape their surveillance to tip you off. If we don't get out now, it'll be too late!"

The samurai sneered, "Withdraw? Withdraw to where? Where else can we find such a suitable place to cultivate the poison strain? We're almost finished, and now you want to withdraw? Wouldn't that mean all our efforts will be in vain!"

Upon hearing this, Harklow sneered: "Completed? Ha, that's just wishful thinking on your part! Since your Sangyang people suffered a great defeat, you've been lying low here for 200 years. During that time, as far as I know, you've changed your location more than dozens of times. If your so-called experiment could really succeed, why has it been delayed until now! I've finally seen through you. Relying on you is truly a sign that our ancestors were blind!"

Upon hearing this, the samurai was not angered at all; instead, he laughed: "We're even in this respect, Mr. Harkrow. Didn't you also use the orphanage's name to abduct children and sell organs back then? If that woman hadn't ruined your business, would your ancestors have agreed to our request? You agree, don't you, Mr. Harkrow of Sanu?"

“You’re Satans! Don’t tarnish us with that despicable name that is used to treat slaves!” Harkrow roared.

“Is there any difference?” the warrior said, approaching. “You call yourselves God’s chosen people, but isn’t that just serving the gods as servants in exchange for so-called protection?”

"Our cooperation back then was based on mutual benefit. You needed money, and we needed live samples and testing grounds. Now you're acting all high and mighty with me?"

Harklow trembled with rage, but the samurai's words had struck a nerve. His ancestors, and indeed he himself, had been involved in those sordid dealings, from the initial profiteering to the later "Death of the Black" experiments.

"But this isn't the time to talk about this!" Harklow forcibly suppressed his anger. "The Knights and the Guard have joined forces! They have evidence, they know we're here! They might even know about 'The Death of Black'! If we don't leave now, we're really finished!"

boom!

No sooner had he finished speaking than the door was blasted open by a burst of flames.

Amidst the smoke and dust, a figure wielding a scythe stepped in first. Clementine was surrounded by flames, her eyes blazing with murderous intent; she was clearly in a killing frenzy.

“As expected, there really is a mole within the guard regiment.” Claire smiled, her gaze fixed on Harkrow. “He pretends to be cautious and impartial during the day, but at night he comes to tip off these scumbags. Mr. Harkrow, you’ve really put on a good show for us.”

"How could this be? So fast?" Harkrow's face turned deathly pale instantly. He subconsciously took a step back and reached for the weapon at his waist.

Clementine sneered, "You think these few lackeys can stop me? Putting aside my identity as a paladin, I'm still a contractor."

She flicked the blood off her sickle: "But then again, Mr. Harkrow, you've really impressed me along the way. Rows of incubators teeming with rats and fleas, and those 'specimens' soaking in solutions—is this what you call 'research'?"

Her voice was as cold as ice, but the flames burning in her eyes were so intense that they seemed to burn away all filth.

The samurai stood in front of the researcher, his gaze fixed on Clementine with a sinister glint: "I didn't expect you to find us, even though we were so well hidden. Paladin? Contractor? So what? Did you really think we didn't take any precautions against unforeseen circumstances?"

He snapped his fingers, and the next second, a cry rang out. Dozens more warriors emerged from a nearby door, each carrying a child, blades pressed against the children's delicate necks. Instantly, the children's cries filled the entire laboratory.

"Despicable! They actually used hostages!" Zi Xuan rushed in after Claire and was furious when she saw this scene.

"You can't say that. In your words, this is called reasonable use, isn't it?" the samurai laughed. "Look at these vibrant little lives, how fragile they are. Paladin, can your proud flames outrun my blade? Or are you planning to send these innocent little creatures to their deaths for your heroic deeds?"

Seeing this, Harklow quickly hid behind the samurai, his face still showing shock, yet a wicked smile appeared on his face.

“You’re right, Lady Clementine. I advise you not to act rashly, or we can’t guarantee what will happen to these children,” Harklow said with a smug satisfaction at surviving the ordeal.

Seeing this, Clementine's smile gradually faded. Her gaze fell on the children, the flames flickering at her fingertips, reflecting the fading of the ferocity in her eyes, leaving only an unyielding coldness.

The children's cries were like fine needles, pricking the eardrums painfully. The youngest child, no more than four or five years old, had tears and snot streaming down his face, his little hands clutching the samurai's trousers trembling like withered leaves in the autumn wind. The blade was pressed against his neck; even the slightest movement could draw blood.

"State your conditions!" She frowned, her murderous intent in her eyes diminishing slightly.