Calming pheromones act as growth catalysts to some extent; glands exposed to them over time develop faster.
The night’s pheromone immersion had visibly matured Lan Bo’s glands. His spoken sentences were slightly more complex than before, and his innate personality began to emerge.
Special operations subjects fall into two categories: one born for war from the embryo stage, the other, like Lan Bo, captured and surgically modified with cranial and spinal implants, injected with differentiation agents to guide the development of desired abilities. The latter has a lower success rate.
To manage these powerful weapons more easily, scientists homogenized the outward behavior of developmental subjects. Therefore, all such subjects were mute and somewhat aloof during the growth phase.
Upon reaching maturity, subjects regain independent thought, their personalities emerge—shy and timid, volatile and lethal, or cunning and unpredictable. At this stage, they are quickly sold as biochemical weapons for huge profit, with no concern for these supernatural beings’ futures.
Bai Chunian, under Lan Bo’s intense gaze, felt a hidden thrill rising.
“I think it’s less than it should be,” he said, meeting Lan Bo’s wary eyes, lips brushing lightly against his cheek. “Fight first; the rest we’ll talk about at home.”
The alpha’s mood brightened like the sun breaking through clouds after a storm. He whistled, tapped the communicator, and coordinated with Bi Lanxing.
Analyzing the situation, since fewer than 5% of contestants survived, the likelihood of a mutually destructive clash was low. Most teams would play it safe, minimizing conflicts to secure rankings. Bai Chunian gambled on a bold move: to seize the fixed ammunition box on the third floor of the research institute.
Two cars followed Bai Chunian’s mapped route into the institute without obstruction.
The research institute was the largest coastal building on the city map, comprising three connected structures—A, B, and C—linked by corridors on the 3rd, 10th, and 16th floors. Each building had two side-by-side elevators but no apparent lighting. The windows were dark, though the dawn’s light allowed limited visibility.
Eight people abandoned their vehicles simultaneously and ran upstairs. Du Mo reported the positions of other teams, while the remaining three omegas hid at separate stairwells to keep watch.
Bai Chunian’s team was tasked with taking the building.
“The elevator isn’t responding,” Lu Yan said, frozen in front of the panel. The numbers showed it was on the first floor, but no matter how they pressed, the doors wouldn’t open.
“Take the stairs. Let’s grab the ammo box first,” Bai Chunian said casually. “It’s only the third floor; shouldn’t take long.”
“But if the elevator won’t open, how am I supposed to get the DSLR camera from the mission?”
“? You still think our score isn’t high enough? We’re already second, about to overtake the Ghost-Hunting Squad. Forget it—we’re skipping that mission,” Bai Chunian decided.
Lu Yan drooped his ears, pressed the button a few times out of frustration, and ran up to the third floor with the team.
The fixed ammo box was eerily quiet, just as Bai Chunian expected. No one came to contest them. The team casually rifled through the box like shopping at a market. Aside from enough blast inhibitors and recovery syringes, Bai Chunian also found a fast-acting recovery syringe, two high-powered flashlights, a light machine gun, four ammo belts, and other gear.
Actually, everyone on the team was well-equipped and didn’t need any of it. Bai Chunian tossed the unwanted items out the window into the sea behind the research institute—if he didn’t need it, no one else would have it either.
Ding-dong.
The elevator chimed: “Third floor reached.” The doors, however, did not open.
The cold electronic voice echoed through the empty research building. Lu Yan’s ears twitched in alarm, and he ducked behind Bi Lanxing. “Why is the elevator following us…? Something’s inside, right?”
Du Mo, who hadn’t been scared, felt a chill creep up his scalp at Lu Yan’s reaction. He scanned the area and, with two alphas nearby, finally hid by Lan Bo and whispered the positions: “Four people coming down the corridor, full health bars… Ah, looks like two more, not on the same team.”
Lan Bo frowned, curling his tail around the crow omega and pushing him into a small corner. He discharged a strong current to form a high-voltage net, shielding the omega, and whispered: “Don’t move.”
Du Mo didn’t dare utter a word.
“Which team is this stubborn enough to contest the ammo box?” Bai Chunian muttered, puzzled. Suddenly, a flurry of gunfire, screams, and cursing rang from the corridor’s end, followed by the sound of running footsteps.
“Their formation’s broken,” Du Mo sensed the life signs at the corridor’s end. “Two of them are losing health, still dropping… the rest are running up the stairs, leaving their teammates behind!”
After a brief silence, the overhead broadcast announced a kill.
“Experimental Subject 1513 eliminated [Ghost-Hunting Squad] He Wenyi.”
The message stunned everyone present.
Subject 1513—the strange “Serpent Eye” experimental subject described in the dossier—roamed freely within these three buildings.
Bai Chunian’s thoughts jumbled. He turned to Du Mo. “Exactly how many did you sense?”
Du Mo wiped cold sweat from his brow. “Six… six heartbeats. Four must be Ghost-Hunting Squad members. The other two…”
Bi Lanxing: “That’s the Serpent Eye.”
Lu Yan: “Damn, there’s more than one of those disgusting creatures?”
“Meeting, meeting,” Bai Chunian waved his team close to discuss tactics. “Now is not the time to tangle with monsters. The priority is protecting the Ghost-Hunting Squad.”
Lu Yan: “?”
Du Mo: “?”
Lan Bo: “.”
Bi Lanxing: “…”
Bai Chunian raised his gun and charged toward the corridor’s end. Bullet holes and bloodstains marked the floor. In the dim light, the Ghost-Hunting Squad leader, He Suowei, looked pale as paper, lying on the stairs, clutching a pistol in a bloodied hand, his silver uniform soaked in crimson down the steps.
Without hesitation, Bai Chunian dragged the wolf alpha up, pressed his thumb to He Suowei’s philtrum, injected a recovery syringe to refill his almost-empty health bar, did several chest compressions, and then used a loudspeaker to rouse him: “Brother! Hang in there! If you die, we’ll be first!”
He Suowei’s head swam from the loudspeaker’s blast. Coughing up blood, he rasped, “Damn it… don’t touch me.”