Members of the Storm Unit methodically escorted experimental subjects out of their cells, verifying identities and serial numbers. The fourteen experimental subjects held in the international prison were loaded one by one onto the hypersonic transport.
Major Xia stood by the aircraft, observing his team at work and occasionally stepping in to help. Du Mo, as the responsible officer, assisted in confirming the list.
Bai Chunian lingered nearby, looking utterly idle, chatting with Captain He while watching him work—much to the latter’s annoyance.
After resting for the morning, Lu Yan was lively again. Kids had endless energy, and his mood bounced back quickly. While the guards were busy checking inmates and no one was watching him, he ran all over the island and wandered over to the transport aircraft to watch the commotion.
“Uncle Xia!” Lu Yan came running, his ears bouncing. When Xia Jingtian turned and saw him, his expression softened naturally. He bent down, hooked an arm under Lu Yan’s armpits, lifted him up, and weighed him lightly with a warm smile. “My big precious has put on some weight again.”
Lu Yan didn’t like the sound of that at all. He hopped down and bounced twice. “What do you mean put on weight? Is that supposed to be a good thing?” He rolled up his sleeves to show his slender arms, flexing to squeeze out a bit of muscle. “I’ve gained muscle, okay? I’m the fiercest rabbit on Aphid Island now.”
Xia Jingtian chuckled, lightly bumping him with a fist. Lu Yan lost his balance, stumbled back a couple of steps, and plopped onto the ground.
“Not bad—the fiercest rabbit on Aphid Island,” Xia Jingtian said, crouching on one knee to watch him with amusement. “That’s because you’re the only rabbit on the island.”
Lu Yan was furious and threw a flurry of punches. Xia Jingtian simply pressed a hand against his forehead, and with Lu Yan’s short arms, he couldn’t reach him at all.
“For this IOA–PBB exchange training, did your dad agree to let you come?”
“He didn’t agree? Like I care. It’s just a military base—I used to go there all the time when I was little.”
“But you still have to listen to your dad.”
“Fine…” Lu Yan relented, then suddenly remembered something. “Oh right, Lanxing’s here too—he’s still asleep in the helicopter. He probably doesn’t know you’re here. Should I go wake him?”
“Let him sleep. He worked hard last night,” Xia Jingtian said. “You too. On behalf of the PBB military base, I thank the IOA task force for your support.”
“Mm, no big deal.” Lu Yan perked up, his ears twitching happily.
Du Mo called out the last experimental subject number, “324.” Guards escorted the Formless Infiltrator out, with Storm Unit members behind them holding submachine guns as escort.
As the Formless Infiltrator passed by Major Xia, the faint baby’s breath pheromone he carried made him pause.
Only then did Xia Jingtian notice him—his face had been wrapped in thick layers of black electrostatic tape, which was why he hadn’t recognized him at first.
“What’s this?” Xia Jingtian walked over.
Du Mo kept marking the list and explained casually, “Experimental Subject 324, Formless Infiltrator, has mimicry abilities, so we covered his eyes to avoid trouble.”
“Take it off. I’ll supervise him from here.”
Du Mo hesitated. His words carried little weight anyway, so he could only say, “Then please sign here. Once we complete the handover, any issues afterward will no longer be the responsibility of the international prison.”
Xia Jingtian quickly reviewed the list, confirmed it with his team, signed, then stepped forward to remove the tape from the Infiltrator’s eyes.
For safety, the tape had been wrapped over a dozen times. Xia Jingtian patiently unwound it layer by layer. The Formless Infiltrator stood quietly, fingers nervously entwined, the chameleon tail behind him curling into a lollipop shape and slowly turning red.
When the tape came off, a pair of clear, bright eyes were revealed. He pressed his lips together and softly said, “Thank you.”
Xia Jingtian lowered his head slightly. “Now that you can see, promise me you won’t misuse your ability. Can you do that?”
The Formless Infiltrator nodded obediently, though his fingers kept fidgeting unconsciously.
“Good. Go wait on the plane for now.” Xia Jingtian patted his shoulder and sent him aboard.
Once everything had been checked, the Storm Unit members boarded the aircraft as well.
Bai Chunian stood on the boarding stairs, one foot up, arm resting on the railing, raising a hand to He Suowei. “See you around.”
He Suowei bumped fists with him. “When you get there, I want to see what tricks you’ve got—teaching better than me, huh?”
“Come on, I’m just a slacker. The major’s just being generous,” Bai Chunian said with a grin. “Of course, being better than you? That’s basic.”
Xia Jingtian walked over from a distance, giving Bai Chunian a few final instructions before departure.
“You’ve worked hard these past months,” he said. “The prison procedures are done. I have Jinlü Chong’s records—I’ll assign a team to escort him to IOA headquarters. Once you finish up here, you can head back.”
“You’re too kind.” Bai Chunian already had a good first impression of the major. Around him, he felt unexpectedly at ease—someone in such a high position without airs made conversation comfortable.
“You’ll have one month to prepare. Your chairman will likely ask for your input on the exchange training roster. When the time comes, I’ll have someone meet you at a designated location.”
“Understood.” Bai Chunian straightened. “Safe travels.”
He watched as the PBB aircraft took off. Lan Bo, who had been coiled around a tower, leapt down and landed beside him.
“Rando,” Lan Bo said, watching the departing aircraft.
“Hm?” Bai Chunian turned his face. “What did you call him?”
“You’re Randi—you have pink paw pads.” Lan Bo spread his hand as he explained. “Rando has black paw pads. He’s not a cute kitty.”
Bai Chunian nodded in satisfaction—then paused, feeling like something was off.
As the PBB transport required runway clearance, the prison temporarily activated its anti-air grid. After the two aircraft departed, the grid slowly began to close.
Unexpectedly, another unfamiliar helicopter appeared in the sky.
Standing in the open cabin was a familiar alpha. He gripped a handle inside the aircraft, leaning most of his body out, holding a rifle in one hand, his tongue—with a single tattooed line—flicking in the wind.
Bai Chunian’s expression tightened.
Eris burst into wild laughter and opened fire downward. Some bullets struck the not-yet-closed electric grid, while others slipped through the gaps.
A burst of gunfire swept across the ground. Bai Chunian lunged forward, tackling Lan Bo and shielding his head. A stray bullet struck Du Mo in the calf—blood sprayed as he cried out, clutching his leg and rolling behind a vehicle. Grabbing his radio, he shouted:
“Alert—terrorist attack!”
Eris grabbed the helicopter’s loudspeaker, the muzzle of his gun pointed straight at Bai Chunian. “You betrayed your companion. You lied to me. You approached me with an agenda from the very beginning.”
Bai Chunian was briefly at a loss for words. “Well, yeah. I thought you knew? Weren’t you released on bail? Why come back?”
Eris snorted coldly. “Bail is bail. I don’t want to be released—I want to break out.”
He turned toward Du Mo, who was hiding behind a vehicle, and made an exaggerated, mocking face. “Hey, little prison guard—this is me returning that baton strike.”
Bai Chunian noticed then that the helicopter pilot was a blond alpha. Even with sunglasses and a headset on, Bai Chunian could recognize him from his facial structure.
It matched the photo in the IOA wanted notice.
The “Puppeteer” Eris had once mentioned—formerly working for the Red-Throated Bird, missing in recent years.
“Bai Chunian.” Eris fired a shot at his feet. “I like a violent world more than an orderly one. I like strength ruling all, blood and flesh everywhere, no logic, no rules. I don’t like a bunch of weaklings using rules they created to bind me. Just wait—I’ll turn the world into something I like.”
Eris stuck out his tongue, lips curling into a sinister grin. “If you stand on humanity’s side, you’re as good as dead.”
The helicopter veered away, carrying Eris off into the distance.