History of Consciousness

Chapter 1: Vengeance

"Bang!"

A burst of flame erupted from the refrigerator door. The thick door twisted and shrank as if a vacuum had sucked out all the air, releasing a thick cloud of white vapor from inside.

The massive refrigerator shook, struggling against the force of the explosion. But it finally gave way, crashing to the ground, spilling shelves and cylindrical containers in a messy heap.

More explosions followed.

Thankfully, Hua Hongxiao was separated from the lab by a thick glass wall. It seemed sturdy, containing both the shockwave and most of the sound.

Hongxiao curled up on the floor, unsure of what would happen next.

A group of men in black suits emerged from the nearby elevator. They immediately spotted the laboratory through the glass wall, where refrigerators exploded and toppled one by one. They sprinted along the wall, shouting, "Allez! Allez!"

No one noticed Hongxiao, lying on the floor near the elevator doors.

Then, a sharp sound rang out from a distance. It seemed to bypass the glass wall, likely coming from outside the lab.

The impact made Hongxiao's ears ring. He instinctively covered them as a barrage of sharp sounds followed, each one like a hammer pounding against his heart. He felt nauseous, wanting to stand but too afraid to remove his hands from his ears.

With effort, he managed to get to his feet, glancing back at the open elevator. Like a drowning man spotting a lifeline, he stumbled in, every muscle urging him to press the button to escape this madness.

He reached out and pressed the top button.

In that split-second his right ear was unprotected, a series of rapid bangs assaulted him, leaving him nearly deaf. He quickly covered his ear again, relieved as the elevator doors began to close.

But just as they were about to shut completely, a bloodied hand shot between them, forcing the doors open. Hongxiao froze. He recognized the face behind that hand.

A wide forehead, thin brows.

It was him. The murderer. The man who had killed his grandfather.

The man's clothes were torn, blood oozing from multiple wounds. He stumbled into the elevator, collapsing against Hongxiao. Instinctively, Hongxiao pushed him away with all his strength, trying to shove him back out.

But the man held fast, one hand clutching Hongxiao's shirt, the other holding a gleaming gun aimed at Hongxiao.

Terror-stricken, Hongxiao grabbed the man's hand, desperately trying to push it away.

A loud bang. Sparks flew.

Hongxiao felt a sharp jolt as something hot and metallic struck his face, the smell of gunpowder filling the air.

"Did I... get shot? Am I... dying?"

Fury and despair welled up within Hongxiao. He fought for control of the gun, clawing and kicking, their bodies slamming repeatedly against the elevator walls.

Though not a natural fighter, Hongxiao had a height advantage from his early growth spurt and learned how to position himself to take advantage of this when he occasionally fought other kids back at middle school. Now, in this brutal struggle, he found that dominant position again, using a headlock to keep the injured man pinned beneath him.

But the man's grip on the gun remained unyielding.

In the heat of the struggle, Hongxiao's finger brushed against the trigger. He felt the gun wasn't pointed at him, so he pulled it with all his might.