Yan Yi dragged a chipped longsword as he stood on the shoreline. Occasionally, waves mixed with fine broken seashells surged up, washing over his bare ankles and carrying away bloodstains and mud. Countless gun barrels were aimed at him, yet no one dared to pull the trigger.
No one dared challenge an unprecedented S4-level evolved individual. If he wished, he could even destroy this half-ruined city with the slightest movement of a finger.
Yan Yi gave a calm order: “Lower your weapons.”
His voice was light, but it carried a power that filled every ear with cold authority, shattering the last line of resistance in the security team members’ hearts. At first, one person lowered their gun. No one blamed him. Then more and more people dropped their weapons, which were collected by high-level omegas.
A lion-emblem helicopter roared as it landed. Dr. Zhong, pale-faced, led several emergency physicians down the rope ladder in a hurry, rushing to treat the wounded and stop the bleeding. The eldest son of the Xia family had a bulletproof vest draped over his arm, anxiously scanning the area for his troublesome younger brother.
Several omega individuals, their large mottled fish tails swaying, climbed onto the rocks beside Yan Yi. The leader among them held up a Walther sniper rifle with both hands, offering it to Yan Yi with regret as he looked at him.
Yan Yi lightly inhaled the faint saltiness of the sea breeze. He could feel the lingering scent of water lilies in the wind had completely vanished—not drifting farther away, but sinking into eternal silence from this world.
He slung the rifle that belonged to Lu Shangjin over his back, parted the crowd blocking his way, and walked into the base under the watchful eyes of PBB soldiers lining both sides. The soldiers on both banks retreated like a tide as Yan Yi approached. At this moment, the alpha beasts had no choice but to submit.
Inside the control room, tables and chairs were overturned and shattered, and corpses lay scattered across the floor. Gu Wei was already gone. Lu Lin stood blankly before the malfunctioning control console, his once-composed expression twisted into madness.
Hours earlier, he had repeatedly issued orders to halt attacks, but every command was intercepted by the Pacific Headquarters. By the time security personnel stormed in reporting that Lu Shangjin had been critically injured and fallen into the sea—with fatal damage to his gland and no detectable signs of life in the area—everything had already spiraled beyond control.
Footsteps echoed slowly behind him. Startled like a frightened bird, Lu Lin grabbed a gun from the control console and, without turning, pulled the trigger toward Yan Yi.
Yan Yi raised his longsword instantly. The incoming bullet was cleanly split in two and fell at his feet.
Lu Lin froze for a long moment. His bloodshot eyes studied Yan Yi, gradually shifting from panic to greed.
“You’ve evolved? You seem even stronger than any A3 I’ve ever seen. Stronger than even Wanwan…”
Yan Yi lifted his left hand, holding a containment capsule. Inside, the chameleon A3’s gland had lost its color and no longer pulsed, lying peacefully in the preservation fluid.
Lu Lin’s gaze fell on the rifle behind Yan Yi, flickering uncertainly between his hand and his back. It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over him, freezing him in place.
He clutched a vial of Lu Shangjin’s stem cells tightly in his hand. After swallowing a couple of pills for his violently aching heart, he steadied himself against the console. A sorrowful laugh squeezed out from between his teeth.
“I taught him sniper skills myself. I placed high hopes on him. But after so many years, he only reached M2 evolution and stopped there. I knew it. I was once A3—my grandson couldn’t be any worse. Do you want to know his potential?”
“He’s not like you,” Yan Yi said coldly, looking at him. He could not understand what purpose such obsessive delusion served. No child should have to bear such distorted expectations.
The disheveled alpha snatched the already-still gland of Ye Wan from Yan Yi’s hand, pressed his cheek against the cracked glass capsule, and stared blankly at the floor while muttering that their little Jin would surely be the most promising.
Yan Yi no longer wished to argue a meaningless subject. He ordered several omegas to take the man away.
Lu Lin was taken into the Pacific Headquarters prison as a high-security criminal, awaiting trial at an international tribunal. Since evidence collection would take a long time, Yan Yi no longer concerned himself with it and returned home alone with the child.
The courtyard trees at home had turned red, covering the ground with a thick layer of fallen leaves. The newly hired housekeeper was sweeping them. Yan Yi was not used to strangers coming and going in his home, but he could not manage taking care of the baby alone.
A few days earlier, Bi Ruiqing had called about salvage results, hesitating before giving no useful information. Yan Yi already knew the outcome and only thanked him calmly.
Everything in the house that carried Lu Shangjin’s scent was gradually disappearing. The study had been locked, and the key was lost somewhere in the bottom of a drawer.
Tan Meng and others occasionally came to visit. Everyone tacitly avoided mentioning the person Yan Yi did not wish to hear about, and when they played with Lu Yan, they only called him by his nickname, Qiuqiu.
The little rabbit’s ears had fully grown in. His snow-white ears still twitched in sleep. Perhaps due to early traumatic experiences and prolonged exposure to chaotic alpha pheromones at birth, his startle reflex was overly sensitive. He often jolted awake mid-sleep, then cried loudly in panic.
Yan Yi would get up from bed, lean over the crib, and extend his hands. The little rabbit would quickly grab his father’s hands and desperately inhale the calming pheromones. The omega father’s scent was strong and deep, like a heavy but steady force that soothed him.
The baby was extremely clingy—he only wanted Yan Yi to hold him. Anyone else who tried would be met with loud crying, as if he were an alarm turned to maximum volume, trembling ears searching for his father.
“Daddy is here,” Yan Yi would say softly, holding Lu Yan and pacing the room. Even his own drowsiness would fade.
He would kiss the baby’s soft cheeks and ears, humming a lullaby to help him sleep.
At times, he would carry Lu Yan downstairs and sit absentmindedly on the sofa. The house felt emptier now, many things having been thrown away.
The television repeated news broadcasts. The new commander of PBB, Gu Wei, had delivered a peacekeeping statement at the joint conference. Originally, Yan Yi was supposed to attend as representative of the International Omega Anti-Hunting Alliance, but he declined, citing the baby’s young age, and let Tan Meng attend in his place.
Messages from Xiao Xia arrived on WeChat—short videos of a little lion in military uniform, smiling with sharp little fangs, calling Yan Yi “Brother Yan” and “Senior” with his fellow recruits.
Yan Yi contacted Xia’s team leader, asking them to take care of the young lion who loved causing trouble.
On the Summer Solstice, Dr. Zhong came to check Yan Yi and Lu Yan’s health, joking that Yan Yi never went to the hospital for exams, so he had to come himself as exercise.
On Dr. Zhong’s finger was a jade ring—violet glass-type jadeite. Yan Yi had seen it in a jewelry magazine; it had just been auctioned in Hong Kong for over eight million HKD and was purchased by the eldest young master of the Hongye Xia family.
As he lowered his stethoscope, Yan Yi noticed a lion king insignia on his gland and stared at it absentmindedly.
Dr. Zhong noticed and coughed awkwardly, then laughed.
After the establishment of the International Omega Anti-Hunting Alliance, many alpha and beta scientists joined Dr. Zhong’s research. The Hongye Xia family invested heavily, and that summer, the first batch of L-type barrier vaccines was successfully developed.
“Go out more. It’s good for your health,” Dr. Zhong said.
Lu Yan, sitting nearby, gnawed on Yan Yi’s hand with his tiny teeth, drooling all over it.
Dr. Zhong was worried. Since returning from the Huaning branch, Yan Yi had remained unusually calm and detached, never complaining about the hardships of raising a child alone.
Yan Yi looked out the window. It really was time to go out more.
A park near his home had been renovated. Rows of Christmas roses now bloomed. Locals said the modified flowers were non-toxic and bloomed year-round with a faint fragrance.
Yan Yi sometimes brought Lu Yan there. The child loved it, pointing at flowers and trying to pick them, but Yan Yi kept walking.
The old lake area had once been filled with water lilies. Now they were all removed and replaced.
When he asked, workers said the flowers were too fragrant and caused headaches, so residents requested a change.
After that, he stopped going there.
One day, the housekeeper returned with a bouquet of roses. Yan Yi frowned and told her to bring water lilies the next day.
She insisted water lilies were toxic for children.
Yan Yi went upstairs without responding.
He locked himself in the bedroom, lit a cigarette by the window, and exhaled smoke that blurred the flower fields outside.
Tears quietly fell onto his hand, sliding over the scar where a ring had once been.