Salty droplets ran down Black Panther’s hair. Bai Chunian leaned in and sniffed. “This water is mixed with drugs. Is the leak outside that bad?”
Black Panther said nothing, simply pushing Bai Chunian’s face away. “It’s already contaminated a radius of several hundred meters.”
Lan Bo’s unfocused pupils shifted slightly but said nothing.
“You came to rescue us because you don’t want us to die here, so there will still be someone to oppose the research facility and the Curse Envoy puppet master in the future. I’m touched.” Bai Chunian shook his head, flinging water everywhere. Black Panther frowned and stood back to avoid it.
“Satan is inside,” Bai Chunian said again, brushing the messy strands of hair back over his head. He lifted his chin slightly toward the ceiling. “He’s in the bathroom upstairs. He won’t be getting out anytime soon. Want to go see an old acquaintance? I heard you two have some twisted fate together. Lost to an omega in the end, huh? Panther, you’re really not that great.”
Black Panther’s vertical pupils slowly shifted toward Bai Chunian. “Didn’t you lose too?”
“Yeah. I admit it—I’m not good enough.” Bai Chunian crouched beside Lan Bo’s tail, wiping away the toxic seawater clinging to his scales. He wrung out the seawater from Lan Bo’s blond hair, then took off the small blue rubber band he always wore on his wrist and tied Lan Bo’s medium-length hair back for him.
“You don’t need to feel embarrassed. The world we’re in now just favors omegas more. What can alphas even do? They evolve slower than omegas, struggle to rank up, have low mimic probability, can’t fight well, and can’t even bear children. All they can do is take care of their partners, make them happy, and maybe earn a bit of pocket money.”
“Lan Bo, go outside and call for reinforcements,” Bai Chunian said, pointing toward an exit hatch.
Black Panther exhaled quietly, as if he had something to say—but ultimately held it back.
He leapt lightly upward, grabbed the ventilation shaft, and climbed inside.
Above them, the structure was also leaking. Broken refrigeration units spilled contaminated liquid. Black Panther walked toward the sealed bathroom door, his steps splashing lightly through shallow water.
At the door, there was a keypad lock. Black Panther didn’t even look at it directly. He placed his hand on it, and the electronic display instantly turned into garbled code before lighting up green with a soft ding.
Unlocked.
He pushed the door open. As soon as he entered, it slowly closed behind him.
Satan stood in the center of the bathroom. His pale fingers held a golden pocket watch, his cloak hiding most of his face, two curled horns resting on his head.
“You came,” Satan’s voice sounded weak.
“Why didn’t you run?” Black Panther asked. “With your ability, you shouldn’t have ended up like this.”
“I can’t swim.”
“I’m not here to save you. I just came to see you off. We were acquaintances, after all.”
“Have you found the one controlling you, Demon Envoy?” Satan spat the title out with hatred.
“Yes. We’re all suffering. It’s not as free as you think,” Black Panther said quietly. “One piece of advice—if you end up in Bai Chunian’s hands, don’t try to escape, and don’t attack the humans around him. You’ll survive.”
“How merciful.” A hollow laugh echoed from beneath the cloak.
There was nothing more to say. Black Panther turned to leave.
The moment he turned, a chill flashed behind him—Satan raised a glass shard stained with infection agent, stabbing toward his nape.
Black Panther paused and closed his eyes.
Satan’s arm suddenly froze midair, then recoiled uncontrollably. His hands were forced together as though bound by an invisible force, heavy pressure driving him to his knees.
Demon Envoy J1 ability: Fallen Submission—a silent restriction-type power that disables movement, forcing the target into a kneeling, worship-like posture.
But it did not stop the golden pocket watch in Satan’s hand from shifting. Its pointer ticked backward.
In the next instant, Black Panther was already behind him. He raised a finger to his lips.
“Disabled: future prediction.”
The reversed pointer froze.
Satan’s hood slipped off, revealing a pale, terrified face streaked with tears.
Demon Envoy A3 ability: Whisper of Command—a silent restriction-type ability that disables powers, selectively blocking one ability of a target, and can be reassigned.
“Enough. Goodbye.”
Black Panther left. The door closed behind him. Satan reached out, trying to grab his sleeve, but only hit the cold surface of the door. He slammed the ground in fury, laughing and screaming:
“You call this mercy! I’ll kill you… come back…”
With his abilities suppressed, he could not manifest any effect. His glandular energy drained rapidly until he finally collapsed unconscious behind the door.
When Black Panther came out, Bai Chunian was listening against the door. As soon as Black Panther stepped out, Bai Chunian stumbled inside.
Satan lay quietly on the ground. From this angle, his face looked unexpectedly calm—and even somewhat good-looking.
“Since he’s out cold, let’s just take him with us,” Bai Chunian said, poking his face. “He’s actually kind of handsome.”
He grabbed Satan by the arm and dragged him toward Black Panther. “You hold him. The two of you seem like you’ve got some history anyway. Back in the observation chamber, did you let him win on purpose?”
“He wanted to live. It didn’t matter if I gave it to him.”
“So the researchers saw through you holding back and chose you anyway?”
“Probably.”
“They said you were given mimic drugs. You know about that?”
“Black.”
“What did it do?”
“My lower body used to be a panther.”
“…Oh. Hm?” Bai Chunian’s expression froze.
“Yes. Exactly what you’re thinking.” Black Panther adjusted Satan onto his shoulder. “After Lan Bo defeated me, I was injected with the mimic drug. I’ve seen him grow human legs before. But his body metabolized it quickly, so it didn’t last long. Still, it was enough—it slowed him down, because he couldn’t walk properly.”
Bai Chunian grabbed him hard. “What did they do to Lan Bo?”
“Ask him.”
“He said he left something in the research facility.”
“A pearl specimen, about the size of a fist. They once tried to force it back into Lan Bo’s body, but he resisted and went berserk, killing several researchers. I heard PBB captured the Demon-Calling Cicada. He was close to Lan Bo’s observation chamber—he knew.”
“What pearl specimen?” Bai Chunian murmured, leaning against the cold wall.
His thoughts spiraled. A dangerous intensity surged through him. The collar around his neck suddenly tightened, forcing him to his knees. He gasped for air, clawing at it desperately with his fingers as his body struggled against the suppression, until the violent surge inside him was forcibly restrained once again.
When Bai Chunian was on the verge of losing control again, Black Panther’s arm was suddenly covered in a glass-like layer. Because of that protection, Satan—still unconscious on his shoulder—was not crushed into a glass sphere.
“You’ve already reached this level. What comes next—destruction or freedom? Either way, it’s something to be envied.” Black Panther slightly bent down and raised his index finger to his lips. “Disabled: annihilation.”
The glass-like coating on his body quietly vanished, and Bai Chunian’s bloodshot, blue-tinged eyes finally returned to normal.
Outside the submarine, testing knocks and probing impacts could be heard. It seemed Lan Bo had brought the rescue team. In addition, several other A3-level omega presences were approaching.
“There’s a squirrel that’s been following me,” Black Panther said.
“Oh, that’s my superior,” Bai Chunian replied, sitting on the ground and staring absentmindedly at the wet floor. “Leave Satan behind. You can’t take him with you anymore.”
The squirrel’s presence drew closer and closer. Black Panther did not linger. He set Satan down without a sound and disappeared.
Bai Chunian lifted Satan’s arm and casually composed himself, then raised his middle finger at the bathroom camera, leaving a message for the research institute—whether it was still monitoring the submarine or not:
“You’re about to be finished.”
Then he dragged Satan toward the direction of the approaching energy signatures.
The severely deformed hatch was cut open. A large volume of seawater rushed in. Lan Bo poked his head through the gap and extended a hand toward Bai Chunian.
Bai Chunian grasped it tightly. Lan Bo pulled him out. Medical personnel in sealed diving suits and other members of the special operations team entered the submarine through the purified passage Lan Bo created, led by Cang Xiao’er, to conduct a full inspection.
After returning to shore, dawn had already broken. A large number of law enforcement officers from the Alliance were stationed along the coastline, sirens echoing, while reporters gathered nearby for interviews.
Bian Lansheng dealt with a few rounds of media before slipping away, grabbing a towel from the emergency tent and draping it over Bai Chunian so he could dry off. Even though the weather was warming, the morning wind was still cold.
Bai Chunian wiped the water from his body and hair. “How is Xiao Xun?”
“He was taken away by Doctor Zhong at dawn. By the time they left, he was already out of danger. The doctor said he’s stable, and Doctor Zhong’s ability can neutralize toxins. I think… he should be fine.”
Bai Chunian finally relaxed and tossed the towel back. “Good job this time. Reliable.”
The tension in Bian Lansheng’s brow eased slightly.
Bai Chunian looked into the distance at Lan Bo, who was sitting on the shore absentmindedly playing with the water. His chest felt heavy.
Three years apart—what had happened during that time? It absolutely couldn’t be summed up by Lan Bo’s few casual words. Yet no matter how he asked, Lan Bo refused to speak.
Maybe it was his nature. Lan Bo didn’t like showing weakness, nor did he care to dwell on the past. Bai Chunian could easily imagine how cold and untouchable he must have been before they met.
But there was one thing Bai Chunian still needed to ask.
He walked over and crouched beside Lan Bo, quietly observing him.
Lan Bo was kneeling by the water, holding up a handful of seawater. Inside was a tiny fish fry that had already turned belly-up and died.
The faintly blue seawater in his hands gradually became clear again. The small fish began to swim once more. Lan Bo returned the purified water to the sea, but the fish fry was once again swallowed by polluted water and quickly floated up dead.
He repeated this action over and over without knowing how many times.
Finally, frustrated, he scooped up a handful of sand and threw it into the water.
“Fuck.”
The words Bai Chunian had been about to say were swallowed back. He grabbed Lan Bo’s hand, pulled him into his arms, and released a calming pheromone. He gently patted his back, leaning closer until their lips nearly touched as he comforted him:
“Don’t rush. We’ll definitely clean it up for you.”
“Help me?” Lan Bo laughed. His tense body softened in Bai Chunian’s arms. “Sometimes I feel powerless… like living with a group of unreasonable children—drawing on walls with crayons, prying open the TV with screwdrivers, pulling the stuffing out of the sofa, then sitting there all dirty and waiting for me to clean up after them.”
“I really don’t understand. What is all this for?” Lan Bo grabbed Bai Chunian’s wrist and pulled him away from the shore. His tied-up blond hair swung behind him. “Forget it. I’m done. I don’t care anymore.”