The flower girl’s head was bitten clean off by the flowers on the vine. Pink petals burst from the severed neck. Smelling blood, the spore babies hungrily swarmed over, scrambling onto the flower girl’s body with hands and feet, chewing and devouring her flesh.
Even so, the nutrient matter excreted by the spore babies was reabsorbed by the roots hidden beneath the flower girl’s skirt. The speed at which the babies devoured her gradually failed to keep up with the speed of her regeneration, and her head began showing signs of reforming.
Lan Bo burst out of the cabinet, drawing a Dead Sea Heartstone dagger from Bai Chunian’s collar. Breaking through layer after layer of petals, he stabbed the blade straight into the flower girl’s heart.
“slenmeikimo. (Rest in peace.)” Lan Bo placed his left hand over the wound on her chest while twisting the dagger hard with his right, completely shredding her heart while simultaneously cutting open every major artery in her body.
The flower girl’s body exploded in a spray of blood. The wounds were greedily torn apart and consumed by the spore babies until she was finally devoured completely.
Once the tree core died, the entire Brain Vine plant began to wither. The roots stopped absorbing waste from the spore babies, and the branches, starting from the specimen cabinet at the growth origin point, gradually changed from green to yellow, withering bit by bit along every branch extending out of the room.
Lan Bo climbed onto the wall and shook himself, flinging off the spore babies that had crawled onto him to lick his wounds. The cuts made by the petal blades were shallow and healed quickly.
Bai Chunian let out a sigh of relief and plucked off one stubborn little baby clinging to Lan Bo. “Newton? Hugging somebody else’s husband and refusing to let go? Down you go.”
Lan Bo licked the wound on his shoulder. “That’s not Newton. Newton has two little demon horns.”
Bai Chunian grabbed the spore baby by the back of its neck and held it up for a closer look. “You’re right. This one has a pair of black dots on its face. Is this Galileo?”
“It’s Mozart.”
“You can even tell them apart? You named them too?”
“en.”
Eris picked up the culture dish Bai Chunian had thrown onto the floor and stroked his chin in confusion while examining it. The bottom of the dish had become a bright, smooth mirror, clearly reflecting his face.
“How did it turn into a mirror?”
“Silver mirror reaction. I’ll explain when we get back.” The Puppeteer habitually arranged the reagent bottles neatly and removed his rubber gloves, tossing them into a medical waste bin. “The Divine Messenger thinks fast.”
Eris stuffed the culture dish into his pocket and glanced at Bai Chunian, who was pressing cheek to cheek with Lan Bo and whispering quietly. He muttered under his breath, “He knows how to exploit experimental-subject bugs. I’m not playing with him anymore.”
“Is the stuff in here really that useful? Let’s take some back.” Eris thought the reagents in the medicine cabinet were amazing and immediately set his sights on a barrel of concentrated sulfuric acid stored at the bottom. He picked up the metal container and shoved it into the Puppeteer’s apron pocket.
“Eris…”
“Done. Got it in.”
The leather apron pocket, which didn’t look very large, had already stored a handgun, the Sacred Clockwork, several spore babies, and now an entire metal barrel of concentrated sulfuric acid. Yet from the outside it looked completely unchanged, not even bulging, and the Puppeteer showed no sign of carrying extra weight.
Bai Chunian stayed beside Lan Bo, helping him lick the wound at the side of his neck clean, licking away the blood.
Lan Bo lifted a hand and pressed it onto Bai Chunian’s head, rubbing hard.
“Looks like these spore babies don’t just eat corpses. As long as there’s a wound, they’ll come over and start chewing. And there are so many of them—it’s too dangerous.” Bai Chunian pulled Lan Bo along toward the elevator blocked by vines. “Come on, no wasting time.”
The vines clogging the elevator had become brittle from withering, making them much easier to cut, but because of the massive amount, it still took considerable effort and time.
Bai Chunian shined a flashlight downward. The vines blocked layer after layer, making it impossible to see the deepest part. But based on their current location and the building map, he estimated that climbing down around ten floors would get them to Ellen’s office.
Eris pointed at the flamethrower on the floor. “What if we burn it?”
“No idea how far the vines have spread. Using fire recklessly might set the whole building ablaze.” Bai Chunian weighed the risks, considering whether there was a better option. He worried it could trigger equipment explosions and a chain reaction that would create even bigger trouble.
But while they hesitated, a spore baby suddenly dropped from the ceiling with a splat, landing right on the flamethrower’s trigger after the safety pin had already been pulled.
A roaring blaze burst out with a boom. Eris and Bai Chunian jumped and hurriedly retreated into the distance. The dried hollow vines were highly flammable. Once the fire splashed onto them, it rapidly spread downward through the elevator shaft. The vines burned into ashes, drifting softly through the air, and a faint grassy fragrance mixed into the scent of ash that spread all around them.
Although the elevator shaft had been cleared, the elevator itself had already been completely destroyed by the Brain Vine and could no longer be used. Behind the elevator doors remained only a bottomless vertical shaft.
“Hey! Fire extinguisher—bring a fire extinguisher down!” Bai Chunian quickly grabbed one from the corner of the wall and jumped down together with the flames, climbing downward along the elevator cables. Eris followed as well, wrapping cursed golden thread around his waist to make a zipline and sliding down.
The building had been devastated by the Brain Vine, riddled with damage everywhere. After climbing down, all they saw was a vast area of machine wreckage ignited by the dried vines, burning in roaring flames.
Even after emptying an entire fire extinguisher, Bai Chunian barely made a dent. He stretched out both hands toward the elevator opening and shouted to Lan Bo, “Come here, I’ll carry you through!”
Without a second thought, Lan Bo jumped down and threw himself into Bai Chunian’s arms, curling into a fish ball. He activated his companion ability, Rupert’s Tears, shielding himself. Bai Chunian pulled off his bulletproof vest and wrapped the fish ball inside, nimbly weaving through gaps in the flames while dodging every chunk of charred ceiling collapsing around them.
The vines were burning much faster than he had imagined. White spore babies constantly appeared on the walls, writhing in pain from the flames, only to be swallowed by layers of fire moments later. Around them echoed the sound of babies crying, the roar of flames, and the thunderous blasts of unknown equipment exploding. Bai Chunian could only avoid every exit blocked by fire and sprint at full speed, crashing into a sealed corridor.
At the end of the corridor, the keypad lock on a room glowed. Bai Chunian pulled out the ID cards from his pocket. Abbydo’s card showed insufficient authorization, but when he scanned Renault’s card, it displayed Access Granted, and the door slowly opened.
Bai Chunian rushed inside. Flames licked at the doorway behind him but were shut out by the closing metal door.
Scanning the furnishings around him, he saw a spacious room with a curved white office desk in the center. A computer sat on the desk, its surface covered in messy handwritten drafts.
Every sign pointed to this being Ellen’s office.
According to the map, Reagent Storage Room No. 1 and Ellen’s office were separated by only one wall. Besides that, there was a private elevator embedded in the wall to the right side of the office, accessible only through iris-password verification—for now, they ignored it.
Lan Bo spread himself across the wall, crawling around in search of a hidden door. Bai Chunian sat at Ellen’s desk. Renault’s ID card couldn’t unlock Ellen’s computer, so he took out the decoder Instructor K had given him to crack the encrypted system.
“Found it.” Lan Bo stopped at the lower-right corner of the left wall, lightly tapping the wall with the tip of his fish tail. “There’s space inside.”
“Wait for me a second. The password-reading progress bar’s almost done.”
“No rush.” Lan Bo raised a hand and punched the wall.
The wall shook with a booming vibration. Spiderweb-like cracks split outward from the point of impact with a tearing sound. Then came another heavy punch. The metal wall gave way, punctured through, and with yet another punch he cracked the thick load-bearing wall apart.
Bai Chunian stared at the password-cracking progress bar while beside him it sounded like the neighbor had hired a construction crew—constant banging and crashing. Pieces of the ceiling kept falling one after another. Bai Chunian casually tilted his head to dodge one chunk, then raised a hand to avoid another, entirely out of habit.
Before the password finished decrypting, Lan Bo had already punched through the wall.
He tore open a massive hole between the office and Reagent Storage Room No. 1, then crawled inside.
“You’re way too fast.” Bai Chunian immediately followed him in.
Just as they stepped into the reagent storage room, Eris squeezed through the small window. Then he switched places with the Puppeteer, bringing him inside, before climbing back in again himself.
The hem of the Puppeteer’s trench coat was still smoldering with sparks, which he casually extinguished with a couple of flicks.
But the scene inside the reagent storage room completely contradicted their expectations. The refrigerated cabinets meant for storing reagents were completely empty—everything had already been moved out, leaving behind only a few scattered vials.
The group searched through every cabinet and finally found a box containing red Co-Bonding Hormone injection syringes.
Six in total.
The four of them exchanged sidelong glances, each harboring different thoughts, eyes flickering.
Lan Bo and the Puppeteer locked eyes and simultaneously reached out, both pressing firmly on the insulated injection case. Lan Bo raised his gaze, his long upturned eyes glaring viciously at the Puppeteer. His sapphire-blue pupils lifted slightly.
“Aren’t you looking for a combat chip? Why are you fighting over medicine?”
The Puppeteer’s expression remained calm, but his hand showed no sign of loosening or yielding.
“Aren’t you supposed to be rescuing the IOA undercover agent?”
The medicine case was pinned to the table, dragged back and forth between them.
Bai Chunian leapt onto the tabletop. His lion tail extended high behind him to maintain balance, the bell at its tip jingling sharply. He darted across the table to seize the medicine case—
Only to be suddenly entangled by a mass of cursed golden thread dropping from above.
Eris grabbed the thread with all his strength and yanked backward, dragging Bai Chunian away from the Puppeteer. Bai Chunian clawed desperately at the floor with both hands, trying to crawl forward, but he couldn’t break free of the solidified cursed golden thread. Inch by inch, Eris dragged him back, leaving six long claw marks carved into the ground.
“What do you even want this for…” Bai Chunian gritted his teeth, struggling against the cursed thread wrapped around him.
Eris clenched his teeth and dragged him with all his might. “I… don’t know… Nix said it’s useful…”
The Puppeteer stared at the collar around Bai Chunian’s neck. Suddenly realization struck him, and the corner of his lips curved upward.
“Bai Chunian, you’ve already entered the deterioration phase, haven’t you? You’ve injected co-bonding hormone and are relying on the medicine to maintain your sanity. That’s why, no matter what, you don’t dare remove the collar.”
Bai Chunian’s expression shifted slightly. Although he immediately realized the change in his expression and concealed it, the Puppeteer had already caught it.
The Puppeteer sneered.
“Eris, kill him.”
“As if he dares.” Lan Bo exploded in anger. His fish tail instantly turned red as he grabbed the Puppeteer by the throat and slammed him to the ground. His tail tightly coiled around the major artery in the Puppeteer’s leg while both clawed hands tore toward his gland. The Puppeteer desperately braced against Lan Bo’s arms, stopping the sharp nails from plunging deep into his throat.
Lan Bo turned back and threatened Eris:
“Let him go, or this human’s artery will explode immediately.”
Eris hesitated and backed off.
“Haha… hahahahaha…”
A woman’s shrill laughter suddenly rang out from the computer in the office next door.
Bai Chunian looked up and realized there was a surveillance camera mounted above Reagent Storage Room No. 1. It was pointed directly at them, the dim red light glowing to show it was active.
The computer on the office desk had somehow turned around at some point, the screen now facing them.
On the screen, Ellen sat in a swivel chair holding a glass of red wine. Her crimson lipstick made her appear even more enchanting and seductive. She smiled as she watched the four of them, as though she had witnessed the entire conflict from beginning to end.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Ellen set down the wine and lightly applauded. “What have I done to deserve top-tier Envoys and Drivers performing this comedy for me? Too bad the Demon Envoy isn’t here, or it would’ve been even more entertaining. Perhaps he’s a little smarter than you.”
Ellen burst into laughter.
“Divine Envoy, Curse Envoy—you are children I personally created. After all the twists and turns, you still come back to me. My only regret is that I never programmed obedience into your combat chips. Then you wouldn’t have walked yourselves into today’s dead end.”
“Let me show you something good.”
Ellen’s image blurred and disappeared, replaced by another video window.
In drone footage, Snow Castle was under attack by a massive number of undead summons. Qisheng Gu led the experimental subjects and guardian puppets inside Snow Castle in a desperate defense.
Before leaving, the Puppeteer had entrusted Snow Castle to Qisheng Gu. That arrogant woman had rolled her eyes and waved him off, saying she couldn’t care less.
But in the brutal footage, the woman’s skirt had already been torn to shreds. Supporting herself on the ground with one hand, she raised her mangled, bloody right hand, tightly gripping a gun as she fired at the undead summons in front. Her magnificent tail feathers shimmered in dazzling gold and blue light, spread wide as she protected the castle gates behind her.
Another video file opened, showing an aerial view over Aphid City. Countless undead summons roamed the city, destroying everything in sight. Civilians fled through the streets. Chain-reaction car crashes erupted one after another. Military forces and police cars opened fire while evacuating citizens. The entire city was submerged in artillery fire and smoke.
The footage suddenly cut off, and Ellen’s face reappeared on the screen.
“Gentlemen. My lifelong wish has been to make the wealthy and powerful of the world go mad over my masterpieces.” Ellen laughed softly. “And I succeeded. Everyone is obsessed with my products—including all of you who want to destroy me.”
“I have devoted myself to Earth and to human science. This is a level beyond your understanding.” She smiled lightly. “Shouldn’t you hurry back and play savior?”
The Puppeteer’s expression remained calm, but his breathing grew heavier, his gaze gradually darkening.
Bai Chunian clenched his fists tightly, grabbed the medicine case, and separated out three syringes from the total of six, stuffing them into his pocket before tossing the box to the Puppeteer.
“Enough. Drag Ellen out.”
—
Two days earlier.
Inside Bai Chunian’s regular apartment.
Lu Yan woke from the drowsiness caused by the sleeping gas. Rubbing his blurry eyes, he staggered to his feet and saw only Bi Lansheng’s lonely silhouette beside the coffee table.
Lu Yan looked around frantically. The windows had all been opened for ventilation, but Bai Chunian and Lan Bo were nowhere to be seen. Panic instantly seized him. He ran over, grabbed Bi Lansheng by the shoulders, and anxiously asked:
“Where are they?”
Bi Lansheng pulled out the empty co-bonding hormone injection tube he had picked up from the floor and placed it in front of Lu Yan.
“They left. About thirty minutes ago.”
Lu Yan’s eyes widened.
“You said—you said you wouldn’t let them go. They’re going to the institute headquarters! You said we’d figure something out, that all of us would go together, didn’t you? Come on, let’s catch up to them now, there’s still time!”
Bi Lansheng shook his head and handed Lu Yan an unfolded note.
“Brother Chu knew I was awake.”
The handwriting on the note belonged to Bai Chunian, every stroke neat and clear.
“You little brats, I know what you’re thinking. Don’t complain that I’m harsh, but reality isn’t like some hot-blooded manga where courage alone can charge forward and create miracles. Anyone below A3 level following us into the institute is just asking to die. If you want to help me, stay in Aphid City and do what you’re supposed to do.
Lansheng, I’ve resigned as Head of the Investigation Division. Someone new will take my place, but I’ve already formally recommended you to the team leader for deputy rank. My badge is attached at the end.
Your mission is more important than my life. While we’re gone, someone will definitely try to take advantage of the opening—maybe Ellen, maybe the Eternal Undead, maybe the Puppeteer, maybe some other force entirely. Please protect the city and its residents for the president while I’m gone, until the president comes back.
Oh, or maybe I overestimated you all. If you only woke up three days after I left and are just now seeing this letter, then forget everything I said. Useless idiots. Trained you for years for absolutely nothing. Damn it.”