IOA Headquarters Helipad.
Bai Chunian, wearing a hospital gown and draped in Lan Bo’s jacket, stood leisurely by the railing of the podium, watching armed helicopters bearing the PBB insignia descend from the sky. A dozen or so buses were parked in strict order on the field. PBB soldiers in camouflage combat uniforms disembarked in perfect unison, carrying their backpacks, and formed tight formations, awaiting orders from their superiors.
The uniforms of the PBB Storm Special Forces and the Mad Shark Marine Corps were slightly different. The Storm Force’s combat fatigues were black camouflage with a “PBBw” insignia on the chest, while the Mad Shark Force’s uniforms featured blue camouflage and olive-green berets with a “PBBs” insignia on the chest. Consequently, the soldiers disembarking from the buses automatically formed two rectangular formations of different colors.
“They’re so disciplined. I’ve never seen such a well-drilled formation in my life,” Bai Chunian remarked sincerely.
“Hmph. You IOA guys really need to work on your lax attitude. The last joint training session actually paid off—those kids you sent over have made significant progress. At first, they couldn’t even keep their quarters in order and got punished for it every day. It’s all because you set a bad example.” He Suowei stood with his hands on his hips, strolling leisurely back and forth on the podium, occasionally pulling out his walkie-talkie to scold the groups below that were moving too slowly.
“Where did all these rules come from… but it does look impressive. Not like my little rascals, grinning and goofing off.” Bai Chunian folded his arms and nodded thoughtfully.
The PBB military is gathering at the IOA under the guise of joint exercises, which means they are already preparing to shut down the research institute. As soon as the chairman’s proposal is approved, search warrants and arrest warrants will be issued simultaneously, and the International Police will arrest all researchers. We cannot rule out the possibility that Elaine might resort to desperate measures, so the PBB military’s early mobilization is simply to ensure they are fully prepared to suppress any resistance from the institute and protect civilians.
“Your injuries haven’t healed yet. Just how bad are they?” He Suowei gave Bai Chunian a thorough once-over. His lower abdomen and chest were wrapped in bandages, and he was wearing a blue-and-white hospital gown—a far cry from his usual energetic, cocky demeanor.
Bai Chunian leaned on the railing, looking somewhat listless. He clearly hadn’t returned to his peak condition; his skin was as pale as paper, his eyelids and lips abnormally red, and he appeared somewhat thinner than usual. He was still wearing his wedding ring, but it was loose, catching on his reddened knuckles.
He Suowei could hardly believe it—the Bai Chunian before him now gave off an illusion of fragility. His vitality had waned considerably, and his entire being exuded a sickly aura.
“It’s not tuberculosis, is it? Don’t infect me.”
“Then you’d be the first one I’d infect.” Bai Chunian shuffled a step closer to He Suowei.
He Suowei frowned and patted his shoulder. “Seriously, are you okay?”
“I can’t say I’m completely fine. I’m just hanging on by a thread.” Bai Chunian slumped with his hands in his pockets. “My good brother, I might be on my last legs. If I really kick the bucket, you’ll have to take care of my students. You don’t need to worry about my wife—after all, you don’t have a wife and don’t have much experience. Just take your team to the beach to pick up trash or something when you’re not busy.”
“Pfft, spit.” He Suowei picked up a blade of grass and tucked it between his lips. He knew this kid couldn’t say anything sensible.
Bai Chunian’s phone in his pocket vibrated. He pulled it out and glanced at it—it was a video call from Jin Luchong.
“Oh, you’re here already.” Bai Chunian pressed answer.
Jinluchong’s face appeared on the screen. A pair of spider eyes, covered in a metallic layer, blinked twice at the camera. He smiled shyly and said, “I’m at the Aphid Island Special Training Base right now. The test subjects escorted by PBB have arrived too—everyone’s here.”
Then he handed the computer to Mummy. Mummy cradled the computer and slowly backed away, and the camera slowly zoomed out.
Yu Xiaochen wrapped her arms around Hack’s (Test Subject 7115, Red-tailed Hawk) neck and squeezed into the frame: “Instructor… oh, Chu, are you feeling any better?”
Bai Chunian flashed his fangs: “Just a minor scrape—nothing to worry about.”
Hack’s face fell when he saw Bai Chunian, but Yu Xiaochen forcibly tugged at his cheeks to make him smile: “Come on, would it kill you to say hello?”
Hack reluctantly ground out through clenched teeth: “Hello, you (dog).”
The Ragdoll omega and Siamese omega dragged over the pair of timid elderly hamster test subjects they were in charge of during the exchange training to show Bai Chunian.
They were incredibly timid. Having had prior contact with Bai Chunian during their time at PBB, they were now so terrified at the mere sight of his face that they would dive into the arms of the nearby cat, trembling so violently they nearly passed out.
It’s hard to erase the fear that weak test subjects feel toward stronger members of their own species, especially under the extreme species suppression between cats and mice. Fortunately, the cat trainees caring for them have helped them adapt somewhat.
“Chu… Chu-ge… I just taught him how to type using Pinyin today. I’ll have him show you. Come on, Big Pineapple, try typing my name.” Ying pushed forward a massive African elephant test subject. The moment it appeared, it filled nearly half the screen. The hulking creature was a bit shy, covering its face and trying to hide behind Ying.
“He’s just too shy.” Ying scratched her head and gave up.
The Border Collie Alpha stood on the beach, piloting a drone that carried the flying experimental subject juveniles as they circled over the ocean. He freed one hand to wave at Bai Chunian.
Bai Chunian smiled. “Duan Ye, take this year’s end-of-year evaluation seriously. Your brother is waiting for you to come over and take over the tech department.”
The little Border Collie gave an OK sign. “My brother isn’t bald yet? He should be by now.”
The fourteen test subjects recovered by PBB from the International Prison, combined with PBB’s existing and captured test subjects, plus the group of test subjects and juveniles recently taken in by the IOA—after a period of observation and treatment, it was confirmed that they no longer exhibited any desire to attack humans. Consequently, they were all settled on Aphid Island to try living alongside the children.
In the corner of the screen, the Formless Stalker was drawing the Mona Lisa with his fingers on the sand, while Turing Museum sat beside him reading a book. These two highly intelligent test subjects actually got along quite well.
The Dandelion test subject is crying as she chases after her hair, which has been blown away by the sea breeze, while the Sapphire test subject is collecting seashells along the shore, polishing them into gem-like ornaments to give to the trainees around her. The trainees are chattering away, playing happily with them.
He Wenxiao and He Wenyì suddenly squeezed into the frame, leaving only two noses visible on the screen.
“Where’s the captain? Where’s the captain? We’ve escorted the test subjects here.”
Bai Chunian wrapped an arm around He Suowei’s neck and pulled him close: “Right here, Old He. Come over and have a chat.”
He Suowei put on a stern face and lectured them: “You two, don’t just focus on playing around. You can’t neglect your training. Got it?”
“We know, Captain. We missed you.” The two little rascals grinned carefree on the other end of the screen.
“Hmph, cut the nonsense.” He Suowei put on his sunglasses, cleared his throat, and turned his head away.
Bai Chunian let go of He Suowei, lazily holding up his phone to give the little ones a few instructions in a quiet spot before ending the call.
As soon as the call ended, the alarm on his phone went off. It was time for his routine physical checkup. After being out for so long today, it was time to head back to the ward.
After two days of observation, Bai Chunian’s test results came back within normal ranges. All his vital signs had stabilized, though a definitive method to prevent further deterioration had yet to be found. The doctors forbade him from leaving the IOA headquarters to avoid external triggers and kept his condition under strict, round-the-clock monitoring.
Bai Chunian sat on a single hospital bed, his work laptop resting on his lap, browsing the latest developments at Institute 109. Due to the temporary shortage of monolenin, coupled with Uncle Jin’s covert leak of news about the institute’s drug shortages and broken funding chain, many collaborations involving test subjects had fallen through, and it seemed the institute’s reputation was plummeting.
Last night, Uncle Jin and the Chairman had made a special effort to video call and check on his injuries. Bai Chunian felt a bit embarrassed and kept insisting he was fine, telling them not to worry. The Chairman was still in Westminster, and Uncle Jin had rescheduled his own plans to travel with him. Bai Chunian didn’t want them to worry about him from so far away.
As things stand, if Institute 109 continues to decline at this rate, it won’t be long before the institute collapses on its own—even if the Chairman’s proposal fails to pass this time.
Duan Yang from the Technical Department reported that they had received a portable hard drive delivered by a Puppet Master this morning, containing content accessible only through the Institute 109 internal network. The Puppet Master had directly handed over the data they’d stolen from the Walhalla Pharmaceutical Factory in Red Fox City to the IOA. It seemed they’d been severely weakened by the recent operation to seize the test subjects and had no intention of engaging the Institute in direct conflict for quite some time.
The Technical Department tracked the Puppeteer’s current location and found that they were no longer within the country. The puppet shop on the narrow street had put up a “For Rent” sign; the furniture was still inside, but the dolls on the wrought-iron display stands had all been removed. This morning, an agent from the IOA North American Division’s Investigation Section sent a message stating that traces of the Puppeteer’s activity had been detected in Canada, though nothing out of the ordinary. IOA Headquarters responded to continue monitoring the situation.
Bai Chunian reviewed the data the Puppet Master had copied and discovered that the research institute hadn’t completely halted production of the medication. Even with the shortage of monene, they were continuing production to fulfill previous orders and minimize losses.
The ward door clicked twice. Han Xingqian pushed it open and walked in, holding the rounds log.
“Are you feeling any discomfort today?” He walked to Bai Chunian’s bedside, leaned down, and lifted Bai Chunian’s chin to check for a blue glow in his pupils. He then pried open his mouth to inspect for any beast-like growths on his teeth, before pressing down on his head to check for abnormal swelling in his glands.
There was no abnormal swelling, though there was some ordinary redness. Bai Chunian’s glands bore two rows of tooth marks and still carried the scent of white rose pheromones—clearly the work of that fish.
“I’m not feeling any discomfort,” Bai Chunian said, letting him examine him without protest.
“While moderate sexual activity can help you recover faster, you shouldn’t overindulge.”
“My wife’s been all over me—can’t help it.” Bai Chunian yawned lazily, leaning back against the raised headboard of the hospital bed. “Why isn’t Lan Bo back yet? He just went to the cafeteria to get some food… He didn’t eat the cafeteria’s giant ladle again, did he?”
“He’s with my teacher. I saw him when he came in.”
“What’s he doing with Dr. Zhong?”
“What else could he be doing? Worrying about you, of course.”
“Hmm.” Bai Chunian leaned in close to Han Xingqian and asked, “Did he say anything to you guys behind my back? Things have been hectic lately, and I’m worried he might be upset.”
“Don’t worry. He’s much more mature than you. He’s lived this long—what storms hasn’t he weathered? He’s tough and proud; even if he’s upset, he wouldn’t show it to us.” Han Xingqian pulled a ballpoint pen from his breast pocket, looked down to record Bai Chunian’s condition in the ward log, and rang the bell to call a nurse in to administer a sedative to Bai Chunian.
“Bro Han, take a look at this.” Bai Chunian turned his computer screen toward Han Xingqian. “The research institute is going ahead with producing the serum anyway. Without monene, won’t the serum’s effectiveness be compromised? Then wouldn’t all our efforts have been for nothing?”
“We’ve studied monene. We’ve already confirmed the role this ingredient plays in the serum,” Han Xingqian said. “It’s a highly addictive sedative that significantly increases the test subjects’ compliance.”
Han Xingqian carefully reviewed the section on the computer regarding the research institute’s continued production of the serum. After a moment’s thought, he said, “A serum without monenine retains its fundamental effects, but the test subjects’ obedience will deteriorate rapidly. These subjects are ferocious, and the ones they’ve sold to various countries and organizations are elite specimens selected from thousands. Is Aileen planning to make a quick buck and then run?”
Bai Chunian frowned and instructed the technical department to send a message to IOA branches worldwide, urging them to remain vigilant and monitor organizations and nations that had previously purchased test subjects.
——
IOA Headquarters, Research Institute 109.
Elaine sat at her desk, sipping coffee as she watched the experimental footage streaming onto her computer screen.
The series of videos documented the training of the Immortal Undead—her most powerful creation. No matter the opponent, it could deliver a single, fatal blow; even an A3-class test subject was no match for it.
However, even the most powerful test subject has weaknesses.
In the video, the Eternal Wraith—which had always been docile and obedient—suddenly attempted to break out of the incubator. However, the four corners of the incubator were equipped with liquid nitrogen freezing capture nets designed specifically to counter experimental subjects. A single shot from the liquid nitrogen cannon instantly froze the Wraith solid, and it could not move again until its body thawed.
The liquid nitrogen capture net is a masterpiece created by one of Aileen’s weapons researchers, bioengineered using glands from Arctic shrimp. Even the Divine Messenger and the Lightning Ghost can be frozen by the liquid nitrogen cannon, proving that this weapon is the most effective means of controlling all test subjects. The researcher who invented the liquid nitrogen cannon was rewarded with a promotion and a raise; Aileen never fails to treat her brilliant scientists well.
The AI “Deng” emitted an alert: “The Puppet Master team has suffered heavy losses. Eris’s mechanical core is damaged, the Paranormal Bone has suffered severe backlash injuries, and the Imperial Crocodile has sustained internal organ damage. They have fled to Canada.”
Elaine wiped the lipstick smudge from her mug with her fingertip: “Hmph… Let’s just give them those useless juvenile test subjects.”
Light continued: “Four of the five A3 ace test subjects we deployed have been lost. Velociraptor, Athena’s Shield, and Eros were killed by Eris, and Kashi-shika was killed by the Immortal Undead.”
Elaine furrowed her brow: “The Undead killed one of our own?”
Deng replied: “I’ve already issued a recall order, but the Undead refused.”
Elaine snorted lightly: “He is indeed a bit of a troublemaker. You know what to do.”
Light: “Okay. Liquid nitrogen capture net deployed.”
Eileen watched the real-time surveillance feed on her computer. The screen showed the Eternal Spirit drifting aimlessly through the air. Suddenly, a drone appeared and fired a liquid nitrogen projectile at him.
The Wraith wore the Institute’s tracking collar; his location could be monitored at any moment, making it impossible for him to escape their surveillance.
The Wraith was instantly frozen solid, plummeting from the sky and crashing to the ground. His arms and legs snapped clean off, flying several meters away.
Elaine watched the footage on the monitor and sneered, “Send someone to bring him back.”
“Yes.”
“Nothing else to do today. I’m going back to check on Xiao Yang. It’s been several days, and he’s still on a hunger strike to spite me. Men really are hard to please.”
Elaine left the office. The AI system shut down the power and locked the doors and windows.
Before shutting down, the computer on the desk was still displaying the live surveillance feed. A helicopter approached slowly from the sky. Several researchers in protective suits rappelled down, secured the frozen corpse of the Eternal Spirit inside a glass container, and the helicopter carried them back.
Meanwhile, in an inconspicuous pile of weeds nearby, a severed section of the Eternal Spirit’s frozen hand lay scattered among the tangled grass. A finger twitched slightly.
The severed hand thawed rapidly. Its fingers moved with the agility of an insect’s limbs, crawling swiftly across the ground. Just as the researchers were retracting the helicopter’s boarding ladder, it leaped with all its might and grabbed the crossbar at the very end of the ladder.
“Hehe.”