Yan Yi returned to his office from the Medical Association, tossed his coat onto the desk, opened his computer, and connected to the real-time feed from the Technical Department’s surveillance system, meticulously inspecting the damage sustained in every corner of Aphid City.
The feed switched to the clock tower near the Alliance Police Station, where four or five mutated test subjects were climbing rapidly upward. Thick, jet-black vines tightly wrapped around the clock face, using their tough outer skin to fend off the digging claws of the mutated test subjects.
However, the vines were already riddled with holes, and Bi Lanxing had sustained scratches on his arms and thighs while desperately trying to block the test subjects. The clock face had warped from repeated violent impacts, and through the cracks, one could see Xiao Xun trapped inside, straining to hold the door shut.
Bai Chunian and Lan Bo had abandoned their vehicle and were running toward the clock tower from three hundred meters away. Lan Bo reached the clock tower first; a powerful high-voltage current surged through the metal decorative patterns on the exterior. The experimental subjects clinging to the outside of the tower fell to the ground with a crackling sound, like mosquitoes electrocuted, clearing a path for Bai Chunian.
Bai Chunian followed close behind, gripping the protruding patterns on the exterior of the clock tower with both hands. Like a cat, he scaled the structure without pause, grabbed the outer edge, and flipped over into the red-brick wall, flinging the test subjects one by one off the top.
By the time the bell tower was cleared, the clock face was already in shambles, covered in frenzied claw marks. Bai Chunian yanked open the warped iron door, pulled Xiao Xun out, hoisted him onto his shoulder, and leaped lightly down from the bell tower. Bi Lanxing was using a vine net to capture the test subjects who had been electrocuted into unconsciousness by Lan Bo.
It seemed everyone was unharmed. Yan Yi arranged a vehicle for them and called Cang Xiao’er, the head of the special operations team.
“How’s it going?”
Cang Xiao’er replied, “The wounded are no longer in critical condition. Five patrol team members were killed. I’m still examining the fight traces in the ward area, and arrangements have been made to console the soldiers’ families.”
“What I mean is, wait until Xiaobai returns and hear what he has to say. Do you understand?”
Cang Xiao’er paused to think for a moment: “I understand. But if he…”
“Lock him up and impose cumulative punishment. I’ll be watching you.”
The agents from the Search Division returned to headquarters to report. Except for Xiao Xun, who hadn’t come back with them—Dr. Han was still in the city treating the wounded—Xiao Xun was already quite familiar with his assistant’s duties, so he got off the vehicle midway to help the emergency response team.
Bai Chunian returned with the test subject whose mutation had already been purified and eliminated by Han Xingqian. As soon as he arrived, he handed the test subject over to the Medical Association, then hurried upstairs, with Lan Bo close behind him.
Upon reaching the ward area, Bai Chunian parted the Special Operations Group agents gathered there and walked inside.
Red circles had been marked on the floor of the hallway and the ward with red tape, indicating where the nurse had been killed.
Some of the test subjects in the ward had been moved to other rooms to make space, so as not to disturb the crime scene.
Lan Bo moved closer to the red circle and sniffed; there was some white powder left on the floor.
“It’s from ‘Bone Slayer’.” Lan Bo licked his lips. “The scent of bones.”
“Team Leader.” Bai Chunian nodded slightly in greeting upon seeing Cang Xiao’er.
“We’ve finished investigating here.” Team Leader Cang handed him a list. “Collect the nurses’ bodies. Here are their names.”
“Got it.” Bai Chunian crouched down, lightly dipping his finger into the bone dust on the ground. As he silently recited the nurses’ names, the bone dust, carried by the wind, slowly coalesced at his fingertips, forming a snow-white, pristine glass sphere.
With three such spheres now in his hands, Bai Chunian held them reverently.
“Come with me. I need to speak with you.”
Team Leader Cang seemed to be holding back his anger.
Bai Chunian whispered in Lan Bo’s ear, “I’ll go myself. You go to the ward and help take care of the kids, okay?”
Lan Bo shot a skeptical glance at Team Leader Cang’s retreating back. “Sure.”
Bai Chunian hurriedly followed Team Leader Cang upstairs.
After turning a few corners, they came upon the door to the Medical Association’s morgue. Team Leader Cang walked straight in and temporarily dismissed the security guard at the entrance.
Bai Chunian followed him inside. The temperature in the morgue was very low, and the lighting was dim; the bodies of fallen soldiers lay on several beds arranged side by side.
Seeing an empty bed, Bai Chunian placed the snow-white glass beads he was holding onto it, gently setting one on the bed and covering it with a white sheet.
“Have the families been notified? I’ll go pick them up later,” Bai Chunian said. “It’s my fault for not being vigilant enough. I never expected them to attack the city center.”
“It is indeed your responsibility. Such a mess has occurred so soon after you became head of the Investigation Division.” Team Leader Cang stood before Bai Chunian with his hands behind his back, his expression stern. Though he was merely a petite hamster omega, he exuded an overwhelming sense of authority.
“For something like this to happen inside the headquarters building is already a scandal.”
Bai Chunian stood with his hands at his sides, head bowed slightly. “Yes, I will reflect on this and accept whatever disciplinary action is taken.”
“There’s no time for that now. It’s already happened. Think about how to salvage the situation.” Cang Xia’er sighed softly.
“What do you mean…?”
“Your M2 ability allows you to erase a person’s existence. After stating a name they recognize, you can compress them into a glass sphere, and crushing that sphere makes everyone forget they ever existed, correct?”
“Correct,” Bai Chunian replied, suddenly realizing the implication. “Are you suggesting we erase the victim’s existence, then crush the sphere… so that this incident never happened?”
“Exactly. Once the casualties are made public, the test subjects’ situation will become even more dire. I’ve heard the Legal Department is already considering defending them. If something like this happens, there won’t be the slightest chance of winning the case. Don’t you want them to have freedom and the rights they deserve?” Cang Xiao’er leaned closer to him and whispered, “This is the best solution. It will also spare the fallen warrior’s loved ones from suffering.”
“……” Bai Chunian walked slowly to the bedside, pulled back the white sheet, and gently placed his palm on the fallen soldier’s forehead.
This man must have been a soldier from the Medical Association’s patrol squad. His work area had almost no overlap with Bai Chunian’s, and Bai Chunian didn’t know him. Although they worked under the same roof, they were little more than strangers.
Cang Xiao’er walked over and told him, “His name is Zhang Youzhi. If you feel a psychological burden, you can perform the Obliteration; I’ll crush the Pearl.”
Bai Chunian remained silent for a long time.
“For humans, does the cessation of the heartbeat signify death?”
“Of course. What else could it be?”
“I’m not sure if the deceased’s own memories still exist after the Obliteration Pearl shatters. I haven’t done anything great, but if I die, I’d still really like someone to remember me.”
Bai Chunian withdrew his hand. “I had a wonderful trainee named Cheng Chi—very young and brave—but none of you remember him anymore. I will absolutely never do the same thing a second time, not even if the family requests it. “I don’t believe this is the Chairman’s intention, Team Leader. I haven’t heard these words today, nor have you ever said them. I’ll handle the family’s consolation myself. I’ll take my leave.”
Bai Chunian left the morgue as swiftly as the wind.
Team Leader Cang stood at the door. Only after Bai Chunian’s figure had vanished at the end of the corridor did he step out, finding a spot with cell service to call the Chairman back.
“He passed. Though I suspect he’ll hate me from now on. Why on earth did you assign me such a thankless task?” Cang Xiao’er said. “By the way, who is Cheng Chi? Is there someone by that name among the Aphid Island trainees?”
“An outstanding soldier. Come upstairs, and I’ll tell you.”
Bai Chunian returned to the ward area, where order had been restored. After asking two nurses, he found Lan Bo in one of the rooms.
The room was crammed with five experimental subjects in their juvenile and developmental stages. Lan Bo was holding a Persian cat experimental subject with heterochromatic eyes in his arms, while the other four wailed loudly, but he paid them no mind.
“You’re being way too biased.” Bai Chunian gathered the remaining four into his arms and placed them on his lap. Sensing the scent of a powerful member of their own kind, the little ones all calmed down and began cooing and clinging to Bai Chunian.
“If we had a baby—a little lion—how spoiled would you make him?” Bai Chunian lowered his eyelashes, his voice weary.
“Hmm, I’d give him everything.” Lan Bo lifted the Persian cat by its armpits. “Talent, beauty, health—everything.”
“What if it were a little fish?”
“Then I’d just give it the bare minimum. It should go out into the ocean and toughen up its scales on its own, instead of waiting for me to feed it.”
Bai Chunian didn’t answer. He lowered his head and stroked the four fuzzy little heads pressed against his lap.
“Randi…” Lan Bo set the Persian cat down, sat beside Bai Chunian, and rubbed the Alpha’s head with his hand. “Let’s go back.”
“Not yet. I need to notify the families of the fallen soldiers and nurses while it’s still light out.”
“I’ll come too.”
“You stay here. I’ll take Lanxing with me. He should get used to it in advance.”
By evening, all the major news channels in Aphid City were already reporting on today’s terrorist attack, and households everywhere were watching the news with bated breath.
Bai Chunian stood at the door of a house decorated with Spring Festival couplets, with Bi Lanxing standing right beside him, his hand raised halfway, hesitating to ring the doorbell.
“Brother Chu…” Bi Lanxing couldn’t help but turn around and look at him with pleading eyes.
“Never mind, come stand behind me.” Bai Chunian pushed him aside and rang the doorbell.
A man in his thirties—an Omega—opened the door, still wearing an apron. As soon as he saw the badge on Bai Chunian’s chest and his stern expression, the Omega’s face suddenly paled, and he stared at them stiffly.
After Bai Chunian explained the situation, the Omega stood there in a daze for a moment before running back inside without closing the door.
Not long after, he brought a bowl of tomato and egg soup from the table and splashed it all over Bai Chunian’s head and face. With a sob in his voice, he shouted, “Get out!” then slammed the door shut. The sound of muffled sobbing came from inside.
Bi Lanxing had never seen anything like this and was completely stunned. Some of the soup had splashed onto him as well, and it took him a while to remember to reach for a tissue: “Brother Chu, Brother Chu, did you get burned?”
“Let’s go. Next house.” Bai Chunian turned and walked away.
As he stepped out of the building, Lan Bo was curled up on the outdoor air conditioning unit. The moment he saw Bai Chunian, he stuck out his tongue and licked his face a few times, cleaning it off.
“It’s a bit bland,” Lan Bo said, smacking his lips. “Are you guys staying for dinner? If so, I’ll head back to the apartment to eat too.”
“Let’s go.” Bai Chunian glanced at the address book on his phone. “We’re out of time. We’ll wash up after we’re done with the notifications.”
After visiting five households in a row, it was completely dark. Bai Chunian stepped out of the building with two bruises on his arm and face, but they healed the moment he stepped outside—just two punches from an elderly human couldn’t cause him any real harm.
As he stepped out of the building, Bi Lanxing looked as if he’d lost his soul. He took two unsteady steps before suddenly collapsing to the ground, clutching the arm he’d bandaged after being injured on the clock tower and weeping silently.
Bai Chunian crouched down beside him. His cigarette pack was empty, so he idly fiddled with his lighter.
“I feel so wronged,” Bi Lanxing turned his head, quickly wiping his eyes with his sleeve, and said hoarsely, “We’ve been doing our best to protect everyone.”
“What’s that on your chest?”
“The ‘Free Bird’ badge of the IOA Special Operations Unit.”
“Just do what’s worthy of it.”
“…… ” Bi Lanxing’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yes.”
In the distance, an elderly woman shuffled toward them, her hands trembling as she held a thermos. Bai Chunian glanced around—there was no one else nearby—and sensed she was coming straight for him.
The old woman stopped in front of them. The moment Bai Chunian saw the thermos in her hands, he instinctively flinched.
The old woman shone her flashlight on Bai Chunian’s face and said in a thick dialect, “It’s you! I saw you on TV. My grandson was almost hit by falling glass, and you, young man, stepped in to protect him. I live in this neighborhood, and Old Zhang told me you were here, so I came out to take a look. I’m glad I made it in time. Come on up and have a seat.”
Bai Chunian paused for a moment, brushed his hands on his pants, and stood up. “No need, ma’am. Just tell us which building you live in, and we’ll take you home.”
“What did you say?” The old lady’s hearing wasn’t great; she shoved the thermos in Bai Chunian’s hands. “Chairman Yan said you volunteers don’t accept gifts or money. Here, take this freshly made mung bean soup—it’ll help beat the heat and clear the heat from your body.”
Bai Chunian exchanged a glance with Bi Lanxing. Bi Lanxing snapped out of his daze, brushed the dust off his knees, and stood up. He took the thermos from the old lady with one hand and supported her with the other as they walked toward the building entrance.
Upstairs, a balcony light was on. A child stood at the windowsill, leaning against the tightly shut glass and waving down at them.
Bai Chunian perked up, looked up, and smiled, flashing his dimples as he gave the child a thumbs-up.