Red warning lights flashed throughout the entire building. A suffocating gloom instantly engulfed the three research institute towers. A scent—like damp wild berries deep in the Amazon rainforest—began spreading from the upper floors downward.
The heavy pheromones of a mature alpha test subject surged wildly, slamming into the glands of everyone inside the buildings.
Lan Bo impatiently pressed a hand to the aching back of his neck. Electricity rapidly charged within his translucent tail, shifting from calm blue to an angry, flashing red.
“The brat… is provoking me.”
Bai Chunian switched the communicator to public channel. “Everyone, jump out the windows and leave the institute. The rankings are set. There’s no point fighting anymore.”
“We’re leaving too.” Almost instinctively, Bai Chunian pulled the merman into his arms and pressed his palm protectively over the gland at the back of his neck. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not letting you see him.”
Lan Bo tilted his chin slightly, blue eyes glinting with confusion and faint amusement. “Why?”
“At first, I just wanted to confirm whether he was the snake alpha I thought he was. Now I know.” Bai Chunian frowned, a violent heat burning inside his chest. He scooped Lan Bo into his arms and strode toward the stairwell, his thoughts in turmoil. This fish had no idea how that slender waist and those soft lips would always attract every kind of alpha.
There was a memory Bai Chunian hated.
Three years ago, he had been injured in battle and unable to train for ten days, confined to a breeding chamber to recover. During that time, the researchers had pumped in aerosolized anesthetic and secretly taken his little fish away from his side.
When Bai Chunian woke up, he smashed things inside the breeding chamber, demanding an explanation. The researchers had calmly told him, “The merman entered heat. We were worried he might hurt you, so we temporarily transferred him to a snake alpha’s breeding chamber.”
When Lan Bo was returned, he carried that same berry-like pheromone scent on his body. There were bruises and claw marks left behind by passion.
That night, Bai Chunian claimed the merman omega with fierce possessiveness, loud enough that everyone in the laboratory could see that this omega belonged to him.
But even as he lost consciousness, Lan Bo had never released submissive pheromones to signal surrender. Instead, while enduring pain, he continuously emitted soothing pheromones—as if indulging a young lion whose fangs had not yet fully grown, letting him rage freely.
Lu Yan’s voice rang urgently through the communicator. “All the exits are sealed. We can’t get out. Even jumping out the windows isn’t possible.”
The Ghost-Search Squad captain added, “All the emergency doors in Building C are locked. The windows are sealed with mechanically controlled steel shutters. We’re trapped.”
After a long stretch of silence, the system broadcast suddenly crackled to life with a burst of electronic music, addressing the remaining candidates:
“Congratulations to all candidates who have survived to this point. You have now entered the bonus stage. Successfully killing Experimental Subject 1513 will earn the participating team an additional three stars. Leaving the Research Institute building at this time will be considered a failing grade for this examination. Please give it your all.”
Bai Chuneian froze for a moment, forgetting to respond to his teammates’ call. Somehow, he instinctively treated the current situation as a provocation from a rival in love, and a surge of irrational anger flared up inside him.
A cool embrace pulled his overheated thoughts back to reality. Lan Bo wrapped his arms around Bai Chuneian’s neck, the soothing pheromones of white prickly rose surrounding him. Like someone comforting a frightened child, Lan Bo murmured softly, “Do not be afraid. I can still… kill him… a second time.”
Bai Chuneian’s agitation did ease under the comfort, but at the same time he realized that both of them were speaking past each other. It dawned on him, belatedly, that he did not actually understand what Lan Bo meant.
“You think I would be afraid? Why?” Bai Chuneian pressed a hand to his throbbing temple. “He has only just entered maturity.”
Lan Bo continued to comfort him without really understanding. “Not afraid.”
Carrying Lan Bo, Bai Chuneian headed downstairs. From behind them, a computer emitted a warning: “Experimental Subject 857, Electric Ghost, strong attack intent detected.”
The last two members of the Ghost-Hunting Squad had already been released from Elevator C2. Coming to receive them was Mo Chan, the omega from the “Have A?” team. Covered in a large mass of foam, Mo Chan led the two alphas from the Ghost-Hunting Squad as they silently crawled across the floor.
After hearing the system broadcast, He Suowei had already cursed twice. He was not used to crawling along the ground and muttered, “Actually, we could just stand up and run a bit.”
Mo Chan rolled his eyes. “Shh. This is safer. My foam can mask heat signatures. If nothing unexpected happens, we should not stand up again until the exam ends.”
“Brother, you go ahead. I want to crawl a little longer with little O,” the husky said enthusiastically, clearly enjoying himself.
They were still on the tenth floor of Building C. Their only task now was to cross the connecting corridor and rendezvous with the two remaining teams, then work out a strategy together. This fight had reached the point where it was unavoidable.
With the windows sealed by steel plates, the interior of the building was plunged into extreme darkness. Without high-powered flashlights, visibility did not exceed five meters.
He Suowei glanced down at the team badge hanging on his chest, the three characters “Ghost-Hunting Squad” engraved on it, and took several deep breaths.
Suddenly, a faint sound came from the middle of the narrow corridor.
He Suowei stopped crawling and pressed down on the two people beside him. In a hushed whisper he warned, “Something is coming.”
Something was moving in the distance, scraping against the floor with a harsh, grating noise that echoed clearly through the silent corridor.
Mo Chan shrank back, glancing nervously at the alphas on either side. At least their tall builds and the strong pheromones they unconsciously emitted gave him a measure of reassurance.
The thing drew closer. The scraping sound grew clearer—a hard material grinding against marble—but there were no footsteps. It was certain that whatever was approaching them was being driven by some external force.
He Suowei extended his high-powered flashlight, keeping it close to the ground as he illuminated the object. He did not dare look too much. If he met the gaze of the Serpent Maiden’s floating eyes, he would be petrified to varying degrees. He feared those eerie eyes might be lurking nearby.
At the edge of the light, however, what appeared was a foot—a human foot.
“It is a person.” He Suowei actually felt a wave of relief. In this strange building, nothing was more reassuring than seeing another human being.
As his gaze traveled upward, he saw the person wearing a dark purple team uniform. The figure’s gait was extremely stiff; both legs seemed inflexible, shuffling forward two centimeters at a time.
The strong beam of the flashlight flashed across the nameplate on the person’s chest, and He Suowei finally made out the team name: “Have A?”
Mo Chan could not help parting the foam slightly and poking his head out in surprise. “Captain?”
Du Mo stood before them as if no one else were present. His face was livid, his skin coarse like stone, his eyes tightly shut.
“Captain…” Mo Chan stared blankly up at Du Mo’s face. “What happened to you—”
“Do not look,” He Suowei suddenly reacted, raising his hand to cover Mo Chan’s eyes, but it was too late. Du Mo abruptly opened his eyes—only there were no eyes in his sockets, just two pitch-black hollows. Behind him, two golden eyeballs rose swiftly into the air, spinning vividly as they searched for prey.
Mo Chan collapsed into the alpha’s arms in terror. From that brief eye contact, his skin had already begun to stiffen and harden. A sharp, searing pain made him sob uncontrollably.
He Suowei held the omega with one arm, dragged the husky along, and brushed past Du Mo. He urgently contacted Bai Chuneian. “We have been spotted.”
They had just rushed to the staircase of Building B when they heard rigid, clattering footsteps coming from below. Four corpses in the uniforms of the Empire Awakening Team were crawling up the stairs in twisted contortions. Eight eyeballs of various colors floated in the air. The instant they saw the members of the Ghost-Hunting Squad, every gaze snapped toward them.