PBB Military Base Dormitory.
Bai Chunian sat on He Suowei’s single bed with his legs crossed. He Suowei tossed him two cans of cola.
“Captain He, I heard you captured the experimental subject that ambushed you alive?” Bai Chunian popped open a can and handed one to Lan Bo. Then he casually grabbed the tip of Lan Bo’s tail, dipped it into his own can, instantly frosting the outside, pulled it out, sucked on it once, and returned it.
“Number 242, the Demonic Sound Cicada. Brother Han said it’s a level-seven mature form. That’s impressive.”
He Suowei stood shirtless by the open window, his arms and abdomen wrapped in bandages, smoking. “Basic operation. Things sounded pretty complicated on your end—five experimental subjects. Getting back alive already counts as lucky.”
“Yeah, they got away. What a hassle.” Bai Chunian waved it off. “Are your injuries serious?”
“The injuries themselves aren’t the problem.”
Bai Chunian: “?”
Footsteps sounded in the hallway outside the open dorm door. He Wenxiao and He Wenyi rushed in before even removing their combat gear, squeezing through the narrow doorway and pouncing on He Suowei like a whirlwind.
Judging by the impact alone, the strength of two mature beast-type experimental subjects—even without using abilities—was like two massive Tibetan mastiffs slamming into a person. They knocked He Suowei straight onto the bed and immediately began licking his face wildly.
“Captain! Are you okay? We came back late—if we hadn’t been held up, we would’ve been back this morning…”
“I’m fine! Get off me! I just changed the bandages and you’ve already torn them open!” He Suowei protected his bandages with one hand while pushing their faces away with the other. “Get off!”
The two wolf-like youths reluctantly climbed off him, leaving his face covered in saliva, then suddenly noticed someone else in the room.
He Wenxiao: “Mm.”
He Wenyi: “Tch.”
Bai Chunian stared at them blankly, then silently pulled Lan Bo into his arms and shifted away from the two wild wolves.
A miscalculation—he had originally come to show off his short honeymoon from last night, but before he found the right moment to bring it up, he was already completely overshadowed.
“Go train.” He Suowei grabbed one in each hand and tossed the He brothers out of the dorm, shutting the door behind them.
He wiped his face with a towel. “After they were taken in, since their glands are the same, they were assigned to me. I raised them myself and trained their wolf instincts. But when they started school, they ended up in the same cohort as Gu Wulu—you remember him, right? That husky. And they got completely led astray. Goes to show, your social circle matters more than parental guidance.”
Experimental Subject 907, the demonic dog Garm, shares the same gland between its twins. The first digit, 9, indicates a beast-type gland; 0 represents no mimicry; 7 denotes its primary ability: energy materialization.
“The Demon-Sound Cicada hasn’t been fully interrogated yet, so I don’t know the details. You can go take a look,” He Suowei crushed out a cigarette. “Did you specifically come to ask me about this?”
“…Yes.” Bai Chunian stood and bid farewell. “I’m going back to rest—I haven’t slept through a full night in days.”
The two little wolves were still clinging to the glass door, peering inside. Bai Chunian suddenly opened it, and they nearly stumbled in, caught off guard.
He rolled up his sleeves to reveal the mermaid-script tattoo on his forearm, then took Lan Bo’s hand. As he left, he loosened the collar around Lan Bo’s neck with a fingertip, as if adjusting a tie.
The two little wolves pressed against the doorframe, watching Bai Chunian walk away.
He Wenyi: “What was that about?”
He Wenxiao: “Means his wife gave him a new collar.”
He Wenyi: “I want one too.”
He Wenxiao: “Isn’t that for restraining dogs? You think it’s pretty?”
He Wenyi: “I do.”
He Wenxiao: “Actually, me too.”
He Wenyi: “I’ll go ask the captain for one.”
He Wenxiao: “Wait, I’m coming too.”
He Suowei: “You little brats, I don’t have that perverted stuff.”
Bai Chunian first submitted a request to the major to observe the interrogation of the Demon-Sound Cicada. Soon, Major Xia replied that the interrogation had finished; if he was eager, he could help organize the statements.
No rush.
Bai Chunian went to see the experimental subjects temporarily held at the military base.
Currently, four subjects had been released. The Wu Xiang Stealther was the most stable, even able to help persuade the others. The one showing the most progress was the red-tailed hawk subject, Hack.
The underground training arena was divided into multiple functional areas. One section was a reading area, with bookshelves lining the walls and desks separated by partitions.
Hack sat at an individual desk, awkwardly clutching a pencil as he copied from a bilingual picture book, occasionally scratching his head with the pen cap.
Although the experimental subjects were battle-hardened, their life skills and general knowledge were almost nonexistent. Even Bai Chunian had taken three full years to barely integrate naturally into human society. These subjects had been confined in prison, rarely exposed to normal human life.
“They’re obedient, at least. Where’s that old wild streak?” Bai Chunian observed through the glass door. Not long after, Yu Xiaocheng returned with two cups of lemonade, placing one in front of Hack.
Hack scratched his head, embarrassed. “Xiaocheng, I forgot how to read this character again.”
Yu Xiaocheng leaned on the desk, bending over. “I’ve told you a hundred times—read it right, you idiot.” He tapped Hack’s head with the rolled-up book. “Write it ten more times. If you still can’t do it tomorrow, I won’t help you. And remember, Chinese characters have structure—they’re not doodles.”
Hack buried his face in his hands, quietly pleading: “I’ll pass the test tomorrow, I promise.”
Bai Chunian stood in the corner, hands in his pockets, watching them. Hack, though only J1-differentiated, was a mature alpha subject. In just three days, he had transformed from a rebellious troublemaker into a good student. His attitude changed far too quickly.
“Ah, you’re watching me write.” Yu Xiaocheng, annoyed at Hack’s messy handwriting, grabbed his hand and guided it to make straighter strokes.
Hack rested his chin on his hand, appearing focused, but his eyes kept flicking toward Xiaocheng’s face.
Bai Chunian tapped the door. Both looked up, and Yu Xiaocheng straightened immediately, saluting the instructor.
“Xiaocheng, get me a cup of lemonade,” Bai Chunian instructed.
“Okay!” Xiaocheng ran off.
Bai Chunian pulled a chair from under the desk and sat, legs crossed, hands resting on the armrests, facing Hack.
Hack straightened, leaving behind his relaxed posture, and watched Bai Chunian warily: “What do you want?”
Bai Chunian smiled. “Nothing much—just came to see how you’ve been these past few days.”
“I’ve noticed some humans can be cute too,” Hack admitted, touching the hand Yu Xiaocheng had just helped him write with. “Soft. They could die anytime. Though he beat me in the training ground, he’s still fragile. Not alert enough, slow to react—I had plenty of chances to kill him.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“If I had killed him, you’d have punished me, right?” Hack sneered. “God’s messenger—everyone knows you’re with humans now. You’re famous. You betrayed us.”
“You’re thinking too narrowly,” Bai Chunian said, idly twirling a pencil between his fingers. “Our species was created by the research institute. Our purpose was set by them too. If you think being born to spill blood everywhere means you should live strictly by the institute’s design, that’s not freedom.
I’m just doing what I enjoy—finishing missions, getting money and praise, buying things, having fun. Oh, and yesterday my wife and I went on a date to Coconut Island. It’s not really called Coconut Island—there’s only one tree, so I named it that.”
“…? What are you trying to say?”
“Instructor, your water,” Yu Xiaocheng returned with a cup of lemonade. Bai Chunian got up to take it, patting Xiaocheng on the shoulder: “Good, keep it up—you have talent.”
“Yes! Thank you, Instructor!”
Watching the instructor leave, Xiaocheng sat down proudly, sipping his lemonade with a big smile.
Hack looked at him. “You like him?”
Xiaocheng glanced at Hack. “We all like Instructor Bai.”
Hack was puzzled. “Why? Because he can punch someone’s head in? Because he’s arrogant and perverted?”
“Nope,” Xiaocheng counted on his fingers. “Instructor Bai’s handsome, strong, and always protects us on missions. He’s someone you can really rely on.”
Hack frowned. “You don’t know he’s an experimental subject, do you?”
Yu Xiaocheng suddenly choked on his words, staring blankly at him.
Hack’s smirk widened, triumphant. “Really didn’t know? Looks like he tricked all of you. I thought you’d actually accepted an experimental subject as your instructor.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Then go ask him—see what he says.”
“Cut the nonsense and just write,” Yu Xiaocheng tapped his desk, falling silent. He sat there by the table for a long moment.
After thinking it over, he finally ran after him.
The underground training arena had only a single exit. Yu Xiaocheng dashed out, eyes scanning for Bai Chunian’s figure.
“Looking for me?” Bai Chunian’s voice sounded from behind.
He was leaning against the armed guard post at the exit, one hand in his pocket, holding a half-drunk cup of lemonade, which he waved. “Come over.”
Yu Xiaocheng hurried over and fell in step with him.
Bai Chunian sipped his lemonade as they walked to a secluded area at the back of the training ground. He stopped, leaning casually against a wall.
Yu Xiaocheng fell into step beside him, hands behind his back. Despite hearing unsettling rumors, he instinctively stayed close. This sense of safety had built over years; it didn’t vanish easily.
“What do you want to ask?” Bai Chunian prompted.
“Uh… nothing…” Yu Xiaocheng admitted. Merely accepting a criminal’s one-sided words and provocations as fact to doubt his commander seemed excessive.
“Ask me anything—I’ll answer truthfully,” Bai Chunian crouched down, biting the straw so that it left teeth marks.
“Hmm…” Yu Xiaocheng kicked a small stone lightly. “Instructor Bai will always protect us, right?”
“Hmm? Of course not. I go through all the trouble of training you, guiding you—not to be your bodyguard.”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Yu Xiaocheng gave up trying to phrase it carefully, words tumbling out awkwardly. “I mean… I trust you, Instructor Bai. You care about us, and we care about you too.”
Bai Chunian paused, crushed the empty plastic cup in his hand, and laughed. “What are you saying, you little fool.”
“Just read more books. Fill that airhead of yours with something useful,” he said, patting Yu Xiaocheng’s head before standing. “Let’s go.”
Yu Xiaocheng touched his head in a daze. Then, loudly to Bai Chunian’s retreating back, he shouted, “Instructor Bai, I like you! So do Ying and the classmates from Aphid Island!”
Bai Chunian’s steps faltered briefly, a smile tugging at his lips, then he strode forward.
His wrist buzzed; an electronic screen lit up with an encrypted message from IOA.
He paused, quickly scanning it:
“SOW firewall location at Shaojin Residence has been attacked by unknown forces. Members severely injured. Return immediately.”