“Let me go, let me go.” Lu Yan kicked out at Bai Chunian’s lower back. Only when Bai Chunian released his grip did he manage to block the incoming kick.
“Young Master, look at me.” Bai Chunnian knelt down and leaned over to show him the top of his head; lion ears peeked out from his hair and twitched slightly. “In what way do I resemble your family?”
“It doesn’t have to be biological.” Lu Yan pretended to ponder, propping his chin in his hand, then suddenly widened his eyes. “A lion… could it be Uncle Xia…”
Bai Chunian pinched the two cheeks on his face and tugged at them. “Are you crazy? They’re not even the same species. Is an American golden cat the same as my purebred white lion…? No, I don’t mean to look down on the Major; I just want to say you’re a little dummy.”
“Then what about this?” Lu Yan pulled a voice recorder out of his pocket and pressed play in front of Bai Chunian.
Uncle Jin’s voice came through the speaker: “Look at that—your son got beaten up by a fish.”
Seeing that Bai Chunian didn’t react, Lu Yan played it again.
“Look at that—your son got beaten up by a fish.”
The office suddenly fell silent. After the recording played twice, even Lan Bo understood.
Lan Bo leaned back in the sofa, propped his head up, and gave a half-hearted chuckle: “I beat him up. What’s he going to do about it?”
Lu Yan fixed Bai Chunian with an intense gaze, waiting for his reply.
“It was just a casual remark; don’t take it to heart.” Bai Chunian raised his hand, several times reaching for the voice recorder before letting it drop again. “Uncle Jin picked me up from an underground boxing ring.”
“I’ve lost count of how many fights I’ve had. I only remember my last opponent was a brown bear test subject—probably bought by some rich boss for his amusement. It wasn’t that I couldn’t beat him, but I hadn’t had a drop of water in two days, and I was pretty exhausted… Uncle Jin called my name and took me away. The Chairman sent me to the Medical Association to get my injuries treated.”
Lu Yan looked up at him in confusion. He couldn’t picture what kind of filthy boxing ring Bai Chunian was describing, so he could only guess, based on his limited experience, that it was a large room like the Aphid Island combat classroom, perhaps with black walls all around.
“You’ve never seen one, have you?” Bai Chunnian said, hands in his pockets, looking down at him casually. “The loser from the last match—his bone fragments were still sticking out of his thighs and stomach. Some were still breathing when they got swept off the stage with a broom and shoved into a corner. Usually, no one comes to claim them. After it’s over, they’re gathered up and thrown into the incinerator to be burned. The audience below all wears masks; the scene is crazier than a concert. We’re like celebrities, with spotlights blazing down on us, scorching us. When you’re up there, your mind goes blank—you don’t even feel the pain or exhaustion. The only intense desire you have is for it to end quickly so you can go to the bathroom and drink some ice-cold water from the faucet.”
“……” Lu Yan nervously rubbed his elbow.
“I only work here to repay them. I’ve never tried to fit into your family, and I wouldn’t take anything from you. Don’t think of me as such a terrible person.”
Lu Yan stood there dumbfounded for a long while. He’d never actually thought this deeply about it; he’d just wanted to get to the bottom of things. Now, however, he suddenly couldn’t think of what to say.
“You, you… I’m not here to fight you over the inheritance.” Lu Yan turned his head and muttered under his breath, “I finally get to be the older brother.”
“Anyway, we’re not related by blood in the slightest. Even if we were, you wouldn’t be the boss.” Bai Chunian held out his hands toward him. “Trainees are prohibited from carrying recording devices outside of missions. Hand it over.”
“Pfft, here.” Lu Yan dug into his pocket with a pout, slapped the voice recorder into Bai Chunian’s hand, and ran off, calling over his shoulder, “I’m going upstairs!”
Bai Chunian weighed the recorder in his hand, casually slipped it into his pocket, and sat back down beside Lan Bo.
Lan Bo placed a hand on his shoulder, gave the hollow of his shoulder a gentle squeeze, leaned in close, and lightly brushed his cheek with his nose. “You look pretty happy.”
“I’m not.”
Lan Bo pulled the voice recorder out of his pocket and twirled it between his fingers a few times.
Bai Chunnian’s gaze was instinctively drawn to the voice recorder at the tip of Lan Bo’s fingers.
Lan Bo studied the look in his eyes and popped one end of the voice recorder into his mouth.
“Stop messing around.” Bai Chunian suddenly grabbed his wrist, snatched the voice recorder back, and shoved it back into his pocket.
“I’m going to the lab first. Wait here for me.” Bai Chunian stood up and walked out the door. Lan Bo didn’t follow him; he just leaned against the doorframe, watching his retreating figure.
Bai Chunian walked with his head down, pressing the play button on the voice recorder and holding the small speaker to his ear to listen.
Then he played it again, as if he couldn’t get enough, until the voice recorder’s battery ran low and began to produce a crackling static.
“What are you looking at?”
Lan Bo startled; Dr. Han had been standing beside him for who knows how long.
“I wasn’t the one who saved him. I’m such a failure.” Lan Bo stared at the corner where Bai Chunian’s figure had disappeared, answering expressionlessly, “He relied on someone other than me.”
Han Xingqian saw the tip of his fishtail slowly turn a restless shade of red, flicking anxiously back and forth.
“Ever since he returned from the Red Fox City training base, he hasn’t fully recovered to his peak condition. He’s been deeply troubled. He was already afraid the Chairman would blame him for that incident, and now that headquarters has been attacked and damaged for no apparent reason, even though he doesn’t show it on the surface, he must be doubting his own professional competence,” Han Xingqian said.
“You think you know him better than I do?”
“I wouldn’t dare claim to know him that well. Aside from daily observations and psychological counseling, my companion ability—the Holy Beast Pacing—allows me to read his thoughts.”
“Alright.”
“If you want to help him, get him to relax.”
“How?”
“Hmm… stroke him more.”
“How many times?”
“? I said ‘stroke’ him.”
“Oh.”
About ten minutes later, Bai Chunian returned from the lab with a test report. He sat down on the sofa in his office and began to study it intently.
Lan Bo curled up on the back of the sofa, gently rubbing Bai Chunian’s hair.
“Wait a sec, honey, let me finish reading this.” Bai Chunian grabbed one of Lan Bo’s hands to hold it still, but Lan Bo’s other hand found its way to his chest and slid down to stroke his stomach.
Bai Chunian slowly sank into the sofa cushions, thoroughly enjoying the gentle rubbing. A soft purr escaped his chest as his tense back relaxed.
Suddenly, Bai Chunian heard the rustling sound of writing. He snapped his eyes open and saw Han Xingqian sitting in a chair nearby. He pushed up his glasses and wrote in his notebook: “Effective and rapid method for calming feline test subjects: stroking the abdomen. Test result: Effective.”
“We still need to rule out emotional factors.” Dr. Han stood up and put on latex gloves. “Let me give it a try.”
“????” Bai Chunian glared at him, signaling him to keep an arm’s length away.
“By the way, there was a note hidden in the inner pocket of the ampoule case you gave me.” Dr. Han pulled a clear resealable bag from his pocket, containing a written sticky note.
However, the handwriting was so scrawled that it looked like nothing more than a series of wavy lines.
“What does this say?”
“The scientific names of the main ingredients in the ‘nu’ nutritional serum. It seems the Puppet Master and I are in the same line of work; he knows his stuff. Most of the ingredients here are banned substances—some are hormones, and others require long-distance transport from their places of origin. Getting them through customs isn’t easy; it takes an experienced transport team. Before, it was the Red Throat, but after the Red Throat fell apart, the research institute now hires the Lingti Clan.”
“Nutritional serums are drugs designed to enhance the combat capabilities of test subjects. Actually, my research shows that test subjects can fully sustain their physical growth by consuming human food or other organic and inorganic substances. Unless they have nothing to eat, test subjects themselves have no desire to consume humans or cannibalize their own kind. If we don’t need the test subjects as weapons, injecting them with nutritional serums serves no purpose.”
“Is this a request for cooperation from the Puppet Masters?” Bai Chunian crossed his legs, weighing his options. “After causing all that chaos in the city just now, there’s no way they’ll get a partnership.”
“I haven’t figured out the Puppet Masters’ true intentions yet, but one thing is certain: they want the test subjects. They’re even willing to risk storming the IOA headquarters to seize them. We’ve got to give them a hand.” Bai Chunian opened his computer and drafted an email, cross-referencing the test reports with the ingredient list provided by Dr. Han.
Yan Yi was sitting at his desk when he received a mission request email from Bai Chunian.
“Huh, I was just on the phone for a moment, and my little darling has already disappeared again.” Lu Shangjin returned from the break room, sank into the sofa, and looked around for Lu Yan.
“Brother Jin, take a look at this for me,” Yan Yi said, looking up.
“Hmm?”
Yan Yi turned his computer toward him. “Have you ever seen any of these raw materials he’s mentioning?”
“Never heard of them.” Lu Shangjin had excellent eyesight; even leaning back on the sofa, he could clearly make out the small text on the distant screen.
“No need to go to all that trouble. ” Lu Shangjin rested his arms on the back of the leather sofa. “I’ve already reviewed their financial statements. Due to damaged credibility and falling stock prices, they’ve switched their raw material transport teams, and many investors have pulled out. The research institute’s test subjects are already in short supply. The reason they haven’t slashed prices to offload inventory yet is simply that they’re clinging to this intellectual property, hoping to wait out the storm and make a comeback.”
“But what sets experimental subjects apart from regular commodities is their astronomically high maintenance costs. They rely on the nutritional agents Xiaobai mentioned to sustain their lives. Beyond that, labor, electricity, and equipment all require funding. Once experimental subjects start piling up, they’ll drain the research institute’s funds at an exponential rate.”
“Currently, organizations across various countries are questioning the reliability of the test subjects and the institute’s credibility, so the volume of test subject purchases has dropped significantly. The institute’s primary source of funding must now be test subject-related aftermarket products—namely, those various maintenance serums that are just as expensive.”
“He listed five agents on the form: AC Enhancer, HD Lateral Development Agent, SH Shielding Agent, IN Infection Agent, and this NU Nutrient. I gave them a quick glance—the formulas are complex and contain many ingredients. I don’t know much about medicine, but judging by the names, there’s a substance called ‘monoenine’ that’s a common component in all five of these agents.”
Yan Yi rested her chin in her hand as she watched him, listening quietly.
Lu Shangjin pulled out his phone and instructed his assistant to contact a new medical device partner under the name of a shell company.
Yan Yi raised an eyebrow. “Aileen isn’t stupid.”
“True. It’s no easy feat to develop experimental subjects—these emerging organisms—into an industrial chain. ” After giving a brief update, Lu Shangjin tossed his phone aside. “But if Institute 109 were my business, it wouldn’t have fallen into such a state of ruin—even if you were the opponent. To squander such a strong hand so completely—being ‘not stupid’ alone isn’t enough to be a businessman.”