The colossal white lion exuded a potent pheromone scent of brandy—so pungent it felt as if ten barrels in an underground cellar had sprung a leak simultaneously. A single whiff was enough to leave one dizzy and intoxicated.
On the ship’s deck, Wei Lan grabbed Feng Lang and stepped back, asking nervously, “Is that Bai Chunian?”
Feng Lang’s hands, gripping his rifle tightly, trembled slightly. “The situation has worsened. Captain, what should we do?”
Lan Bo, however, showed no sign of panic. He lowered his head to stroke the soft fur on the White Lion’s massive head and said with certainty, “It hasn’t arrived yet.”
The immortal specter perched on the Ghost Ship’s mast suddenly soared into the air, a look of surprise on its face. “The Manifestation Phase?”
Between the Mature Phase and the Deterioration Phase, a test subject undergoes an Initial Deterioration Phase. During this period, the subject has not yet entered an invincible state and remains controllable. While the host’s mimetic traits become highly visible, energy begins to accumulate within the body, significantly boosting its power as it gathers momentum for the full-scale outbreak of the Deterioration Phase.
Off the coast of Aphid City, a small speedboat sliced through the water at breakneck speed, gradually closing in on the ship. About thirty meters from the ship, Han Xingqian grabbed the belt of Xiao Tun, who was piloting the speedboat. Clutching the Ω under his arm, he unfurled his Pegasus Wings and carried him onto the deck.
“We made it.” Han Xingqian leaned against the railing and took a shallow breath. “The Medical Society has rushed to produce an antidote that can prolong the Manifestation Phase. Though it’s a temporary fix rather than a cure, it’s sufficient for an emergency.” ”
Dr. Zhong had been working day and night in the lab these past few days. Aside from examining Bai Chunian, Han Xingqian had spent the rest of his time assisting Dr. Zhong with their research. By combining the infection serum with the mimicry serum, they had developed the first-generation dissociation serum. It acts on the glands and spine to release the drug gradually, continuously killing the endlessly dividing malignant cells.
Just an hour ago, Dr. Zhong handed the dissociation serum—which had passed preliminary testing—to Xiao Xun, instructing him to take it to meet up with Han Xingqian and Bai Chunian. By then, the situation had reached a critical juncture: Bai Chunian had suddenly gone into ventricular fibrillation in the car. The soul connection between the Driver and the Messenger had caused his mind to completely collapse, leaving him on the brink of deterioration.
Xiao Xun propped his tranquilizer gun against the railing, a row of syringes filled with the dissociative agent hanging from his waist. He had already administered one dose to Bai Chunian on the way there; now he had to observe how long the effects of that single dose would last and be ready to administer another in a timely manner.
People began to murmur in terror; this white lion seemed even more dangerous and terrifying than the undead. A soldier nervously reached for the missile control panel, but Xiao Xun turned and said coldly, “Don’t move. Brother Chu won’t attack you. Keep quiet.”
Han Xingqian released two feathers—one drifted down onto the head of the Eternal Undead, and the other onto Xia Shilu’s head. The ability “Wings of the Celestial Rider” from the Pegasus A3 activated, causing the mist released by Xia Shilu to vanish. The Pandora’s Mirror—a vast illusion created by the Undead’s innate ability that had covered the entire sea—was also dispelled, and the ship was finally able to move forward again.
“Protect the ship’s retreat.”
These were the orders Bai Chunian gave to Han Xingqian before losing consciousness.
The ship accelerated, heading away from the battlefield. Xiao Tun called out to Lan Bo, “Lan Bo, catch this!”
He pulled the trigger, firing a vial of dissociation serum toward Lan Bo. Lan Bo raised his paw to catch the flying vial and tucked it into the thick fur of the white lion.
The warship gradually moved out of the danger zone. Han Xingqian began assisting the ship’s medic in treating the wounded, while Xiao Tun carried the medical kit for him, performing his duties with great proficiency.
After Han Xingqian reset a crew member’s dislocated arm, he noticed Xiao Tun with his eyes downcast, absentmindedly cutting bandages.
“I didn’t think you’d speak so loudly,” Han Xingqian smiled. “What happened just now?”
Xiao Tun startled slightly, tucking his tail between his legs. His voice was low, as if he’d done something wrong: “ “I don’t like it when they call Brother Chu a monster.”
Han Xingqian took the bandage Xiao Xun had cut and used it to dress the abrasions of a fisherman who’d been injured during the violent rocking of the boat. As he worked, he asked softly, “You’re an agent in the IOA’s Investigation Division. If Xiao Bai’s condition worsens and he goes out of control, and your superiors order you to kill him, what would you do?”
“Refuse, and then accept the disciplinary action.”
“What if you’re disciplined for that, deported, and never see me again?”
Xiao Xun thought for a long time. By the time Han Xingqian finished bandaging the three injured men and turned to look at him, he saw that Xiao Xun still wore an expression of deep distress. This kid’s stubborn streak—he was just like a headstrong little dog.
It wasn’t until Han Xingqian had finished treating the fourth casualty that Xiao Xun spoke up: “You taught me how to sneak back from abroad.”
So his silence hadn’t been due to hesitation, but because he’d been replaying the smuggling process in his mind. Han Xingqian smiled. “Then I’ll be living and working in the lab for the next few days, doing my best to ensure you don’t have to face that choice. I hope the Chairman brings back good news soon. Only by obtaining the Union-promoting factor can we fully suppress Xiao Bai’s deterioration. Until then, nothing is certain.”
A breeze picked up over the sea, and the two gazed together at the figure that had already vanished into the horizon.
——
After the ship departed, Han Xingqian broke free from the “Wings of the Sky Rider’s” control range, and his influence gradually weakened. With a powerful struggle, the Undead shook off the state of having its buffs dispelled. A vast mirror unfolded beneath its feet once more, and Xia Shilu released a mist, shrouding the entire sea in thick fog.
Lan Bo sat atop the White Lion’s head, gently stroking its snow-white, dry fur. The white lion’s entire right hind leg was devoid of fur, instead covered in a layer of azure scales—once, Lan Bo had plucked one of her own siren scales and implanted it beneath the white lion’s hipbone, precisely so that when this day came, the white lion would have an additional layer of restraint.
The scales sensed Lan Bo’s presence, forming an energy conduit that served as a bridge to transfer the white lion’s excess energy into Lan Bo’s body. Lan Bo accepted the offering from his messenger; his depleted glandular energy was replenished, the weariness faded from his face, and the wound on his chest began to heal slowly. Yet the trauma inflicted by the Dead Sea Heartstone was unlike ordinary wounds—it healed at an extremely slow pace.
Lan Bo looked down at Pearl, his gaze resting on the iridescent scales on her fishtail: “Since you were born with these scales, you are the only one in all these years qualified to challenge me as my successor. If you believe this to be the truth, then come. This will be a fair battle.”
Pearl looked up to find herself already overshadowed by the colossal figure before her. In the presence of this pure and sacred beast, her own form seemed tiny and defiled.
The white lion had not yet fully developed the physique of a mature male; its neck was still bare of mane, tightly encircled by a collar of Dead Sea Heartstone. Yet those deep blue eyes, gazing upward, radiated a youthful intensity that was equally capable of striking fear into the heart. A crisp jingle rang out from time to time from its swaying tail; with every note of that ethereal, dreamlike melody, Pearl became a little more lucid.
“Hey, hey, wake up. Don’t let him charm you.” The spirit tapped lightly on the mast, sending a wave of energy surging from within.
The ripples of energy touched Pearl’s body, and she immediately reloaded. A scent of jasmine burst from her glands, and within mere seconds, the clouds in the sky condensed, darkening the sky.
In an instant, a circular crosshair suddenly formed beneath the White Lion’s feet. The clouds flickered violently, and a purple bolt of lightning split the sky, streaking straight down toward the White Lion.
The white lion raced across the ocean surface with Lan Bo on its back to evade the attack. As its four paws touched the water, the surface beneath them instantly hardened; the water-turned-steel supported the lion’s massive frame, allowing it to sprint at breakneck speed across the sea.
Yet the circular crosshair beneath its feet continued to track its movements. As the purple lightning struck, the white lion leaped with all its might, barely evading the million-volt attack. The lightning whipped up a massive wave that engulfed the white lion, but seconds later, it burst through the waves again. Its snow-white fur remained dry, bearing only a single crystalline droplet that fell in a steady stream as it shook its body.
Just as the white lion had dodged one strike, another circular crosshair凝聚ed beneath its feet. Purple lightning danced within the clouds, and nearly ten crosshairs appeared on the sea’s surface, chasing the white lion’s movements.
The albino manta ray A3’s differentiation ability, “Dazzling Arc Light”: a tracking ability that, once a target is locked on, channels lightning to deliver a precise, devastating strike. The lightning is formed from electrons in the clouds, consuming minimal glandular energy.
Purple lightning twisted and plunged from the clouds in rapid succession. The White Lion dodged and ran through the searing electric glow to avoid being locked onto.
Pearl clutched the Dead Sea Heart Rock pistol with both hands, aiming at Lan Bo on the White Lion’s back. Despite being pursued by lightning, the White Lion still had the energy to spare to protect Lan Bo, preventing the bullets from hitting him.
Lions don’t have great endurance to begin with, and after sprinting for so long, Little White was clearly struggling. He opened his mouth to pant, letting out heavy, labored breaths.
Lan Bo lay on his back, one hand gripping the Dead Sea Heartstone collar to steady himself, the other gently stroking the lion: “Don’t be afraid, I’ll take the hit.”
The white lion was locked in the crosshairs of ten concentric rings. As ten bolts of lightning struck down simultaneously, Lan Bo suddenly arched his back, extending long spines from the joints of his spine and unfurling a blue dorsal fin. The lightning was channeled into Lan Bo’s body through the fin spines, which were as sharp and pointed as lightning rods, crawling along his bones with a hissing sound, then surging and gathering within his translucent fishtail.
Lan Bo seemed to be charging up; the electric glow within his fishtail grew from faint to intense, as currents surged through his blood vessels along his bones, gradually filling him with power.
He twitched his fingertips slightly, and instantly, a staircase of waves rose tier by tier from the sea. The White Lion stepped onto the solid, water-hardened steel stairs and leaped with all his might toward the highest deck of the ghost ship, his icy-blue lion’s eyes slicing through the thunder-lashed sea to leave two sharp streaks of blue light in their wake.
Just as the white lion reached the apex of its leap, Lan Bo somersaulted off its back. Drawing a strand of Dead Sea Heartstone from its collar, the pitch-black, fluid crystal wove itself in Lan Bo’s hands, extending from his clenched palms to form a bow. Lan Bo drew an arrow in midair and took aim. Six suns suddenly appeared in the sky behind him, and six bright reflections simultaneously appeared on the sea’s surface. The night sky shone as bright as day, with twelve sunbeams intertwining and reflecting off one another. A hurricane suddenly swept across the sea, the storm-charged clouds were scattered by the gale, and surging ocean currents whipped up terrifying waves.
The Devilfish A3’s ability, “Illusory Sunlight Path,” grants him complete control over extreme weather within the area surrounded by the six suns.
The electrical current gathered in Lan Bo’s tail was channeled into the Dead Sea Heart Rock arrow. The surging waves formed hydro-steel, trapping the Pearl with no escape.
Lan Bo narrowed one eye, his gaze cold and indifferent, whether looking at the usurping traitor or the worshipping commoners—calm, compassionate, viewing all things as insignificant, treating everyone equally.
“This is the last thing I will teach you: always hold a sense of reverence.”
Pearl instinctively tried to flee, but inadvertently locked eyes with the reflection of Lan Bo’s gaze in the hydrometallic steel. An inexplicable sense of urgency, born of faith, welled up from the depths of his heart, compelling him to submit.
A bolt of lightning pierced Pearl’s body like a thunderclap from behind. His body stiffened, his pupils contracted sharply, and a powerful current surged back into him. His small frame could not withstand the force; he let out a piercing, agonized scream as his body turned into a wisp of black smoke. The cloak of the dead gathered the smoke, and it coalesced once more into Pearl.
Pearl’s surface was damaged, far less smooth and luminous than before; clearly, this injury was far more severe than any he had suffered previously.
The White Lion’s massive form landed on the deck of the transparent ghost ship. Despite its immense weight, the impact from such a height was utterly silent. He threw back his head and roared, unleashing the Annihilation within him. Every gray-white mermaid aboard the ship was instantly transformed into glass beads of varying colors, which rained down into the sea.
The “Annihilation” ability of the Malignant Phase Divine Messenger M2 had evolved into “Annihilation Overflow.” It no longer targeted a single entity, nor was it limited to knowing the target’s name. All creatures below A3 rank would be instantly annihilated into glass beads, while those of the same rank would suffer double the damage.
“Annihilation Overflow” swept toward the Immortal Undead with a lion’s roar. Half of the Undead’s body was covered in glass, and a searing, excruciating pain made him scream. He raised his hand to retrieve the pearls and his Undead Cloak; once the white cloth was draped over his head, it blocked the White Lion’s “Annihilation Overflow.”
“Hmph, the Manifestation of Evil. Let’s see how long you can keep gloating. I’m done playing. I’ve got things to do. Let’s go.” The undead soared toward the sky, but wherever he passed, the sea churned. Waves tens of meters high were frozen into place by water-steel. The white lion raced after him, treading the crest of the surging waves. His claws extended from their sheaths, hooking onto the rough outer surface of the water columns as he leaped upward and climbed.
The Undead glanced back over his shoulder; the simple, sketch-like face on the white cloth furrowed its brow. The sea’s surface transformed into a mirror, from which millions of ghostly hands reached out, winding like vines around the water-steel column the White Lion was treading upon, clinging and clawing. Overwhelming in number and astonishing in strength, these ghostly hands tore the column to shreds. Losing its foothold, the White Lion plummeted through the air.
Just as it was about to crash into the mirror-like surface where the Undead stood, Lan Bo waved his hand from a distance. The waves churned, forming a pair of hydro-steel fins on the White Lion’s back. Its massive body skimmed the water’s surface for several meters before dissolving into a stream of water and vanishing. The White Lion swiftly scaled the rugged, jagged water-steel pillars once more, soaring into the air. It lunged forward, clamping its massive jaws around the Undead’s right hand and violently shaking him.
The undead’s right forearm was torn clean off by the white lion, black smoke gushing from the severed stump as he flew away with a shrill screech.
Eternal undead possess formidable regenerative abilities; not only can they heal wounds rapidly, but they can also instantly regrow limbs—provided the limb is destroyed and cannot be reattached to the body.
The undead thought he had easily escaped unscathed; after all, it was merely a severed hand—a trifle to him, since his hand would simply grow back on its own.
However, his laughter soon faded. No new limb was regenerating from the severed stump.
The white lion dropped back into the sea, clutching the bloody, still-twitching forearm in its jaws. It tilted its head back and swallowed the severed limb whole.
The Immortal Undead’s shrill, cold laughter and curses echoed through the air: “You’re ruthless… I’ll go finish my business first, then come back to play with you.”
The spirit possessed the ability to fly, whereas the white lion and Lan Bo did not; chasing after it was now impossible.
The white lion gazed at the sky where the specter had vanished, standing with its head tilted back for a moment. Then it lowered its head, circling the water’s surface to sniff for the scent of the pearl. After snorting in disappointment a few times, it turned and ran back to Lan Bo.
Lan Bo sat on the floating hydro-steel, raising a hand to stroke the white lion’s chin.
The White Lion sat down, lowering his head to let him pet him. He purred loudly, gently rubbing his fluffy head against him, and carefully licked the bleeding wound on his chest with the tip of his tongue—daring only to use the tip, afraid that the barbs on the surface of his tongue might scratch him.
“Can you talk?” Lan Bo scratched its chin.
The white lion shook its head, then lay down on its back, exposing its belly to him. It retracted its claws into their sheaths, revealing clean, soft pink pads on the backs of its snow-white paws. It seemed to be begging for a rub, but it was so huge that Lan Bo couldn’t even reach its belly.
It seemed that in its “Evil Manifestation” form, it lost the ability to speak and think like a human. Once its physical strength was exhausted, it should be able to return to its human disguise. I wonder if it could shrink a bit—with this massive body, it probably couldn’t even squeeze through the doors of IOA headquarters. How on earth was he supposed to get treatment?
“Let’s go home first.” Lan Bo patted its face as a reward.
The white lion rolled over, gently picked up Lan Bo in its mouth, and tossed him onto its back. Under the night sky, it raced toward the coast, its massive paws treading lightly on the liquefied steel forming one after another on the water’s surface, without making a single sound.
Lan Bo sat sideways on the white lion’s back, his fishtail trailing long in the wind, while the lingering flashes of lightning left specks of starlight on the midnight sea.
Beneath the surface of the sea, the shattered glass beads were buried in white sand, and coral polyps gathered there, with clusters of colorful coral taking root.