Chapter 101
It turned out that the Grey Egg really was Xiao Hei.
In an instant, Wen Xin let out a sigh of relief, feeling as if a boulder that had weighed heavily on his heart had finally been lifted.
Ah Lü explained that the current alternate dimension was built based on Xiao Hei’s memories. It was very likely that Xiao Hei’s mental age was still stuck in that period.
No wonder Grey Egg didn’t respond earlier when Wen Xin asked if it was Xiao Hei.
Lost in thought, Wen Xin failed to notice how intensely he was staring at the egg.
Under such a scorching gaze, one potent enough to incubate it directly, Grey Egg lay there pretending to be calm.
Suddenly, Wen Xin stood up. Startled, the egg trembled like a guilty rabbit caught by the tail and instinctively pressed its pointed end downward.
However, Wen Xin was only standing to fold up a cot.
Grey Egg: “…”
It quietly turned over onto its other side.
From behind came the sound of Wen Xin’s footsteps and the noise of the cot being moved, gradually fading into the corner of the nursery.
After setting up the cot, Wen Xin headed to the private restroom. The sound of running water soon echoed from within.
Grey Egg listened unintentionally.
It didn’t understand why it could perceive the outside world.
According to the assistant researchers, eggs like it, not yet close to their hatching period, were merely embryos.
They shouldn’t be able to hear external sounds, smell external scents, or even have thoughts of their own.
This seemed true. No matter how much Grey Egg knocked on the observation window, the other eggs in the incubators never responded.
Yet, it didn’t want to reveal its uniqueness to Zhou Zhao. Instinct told it that if exposed, Zhou Zhao might do something unpleasant.
For a long time, Grey Egg felt as though a piece of its heart was missing—a hollow, empty feeling.
If it had learned human vocabulary, it would’ve understood this emotion to be loneliness.
While the egg was lost in thought, Wen Xin finished washing up.
Hearing the approaching footsteps, Grey Egg wiggled slightly. It knew the young man was leaving to perform the necessary human behavior of eating breakfast.
Zhou Zhao typically took an entire day to return after breakfast, but Wen Xin probably wouldn’t take that long.
At most, like yesterday, he might be called away by Zhou Zhao for four hours of work.
Just four hours.
A click came from the observation window as Wen Xin suddenly opened it. Before Grey Egg could react, Wen Xin lovingly caressed it several times.
The slightly calloused fingertips brushed over the shell, exuding warmth that was far more vivid than the heat lamp below.
“I’m going to grab some breakfast. It’ll take about thirty minutes,” Wen Xin said. Realizing Grey Egg probably had no concept of time, he pointed to the wall clock.
“See the second-longest hand on the clock face? That’s the minute hand. When it moves six big notches, or halfway around the clock, I’ll be back.”
Wen Xin patted the somewhat dazed Grey Egg again.
If not for the risk of disrupting the egg’s incubation process, he would’ve liked to tuck Xiao Hei into his pocket to guard it every moment.
“Be good. I’ll be back soon. Watch the house for me.”
With that, the door clicked shut, leaving the nursery quiet once more, the only sound the steady beeping of the equipment.
After a moment of silence, Grey Egg tilted its pointed end upward, as though gazing at the clock.
To save time, Wen Xin again bought bread and water for breakfast.
On the way, he stood in an inconspicuous corner, observing the other interns who came for meals.
All of them showed varying degrees of exhaustion. The more severe cases had dark circles under their eyes as if they hadn’t slept well at all.
There were many reasons for this: unfamiliar beds, difficulty adapting to the work environment, or unexpected overtime.
Yet there was another possibility: some of these people might be outsiders concealing their true identities, dragged into the Dragon’s Maw Rift last night to fight mutants.
After a quick scan, Wen Xin identified at least five such interns.
He memorized their faces roughly and waited a few more minutes until Zhou Zhao and the assistant researchers trickled into the cafeteria.
Last night, Wen Xin had paid special attention to the noises outside the corridor. Even someone as irresponsible as Zhou Zhao had stayed in the nursery until nearly midnight before finally shutting the door and leaving to rest.
These people had gotten up early again today. No surprise there—they were clearly worried about the batch of mutant eggs in the A1 nursery.
As they queued for breakfast, they exchanged a few words. Wen Xin, taking advantage of his excellent hearing, hid behind a patch of greenery and eavesdropped.
“…Be more cautious… Can’t afford to be careless…”
Hearing this, Wen Xin’s expression turned thoughtful.
No wonder Zhou Zhao and the others were so concerned. Apparently, there was less than a week before the mutant eggs in this batch would begin to hatch.
When the time came, the hatched mutants would undergo grading, and several highly ranked researchers were expected to oversee the process.
Whether or not the assistants could seize the opportunity to earn the favor of these researchers would depend on the outcome of this hatch.
The assistants then shifted the conversation to professional topics, which weren’t particularly useful to Wen Xin.
Seeing that the cafeteria was getting more crowded and none of the fabled researchers had appeared, Wen Xin guessed they were dining elsewhere. He quickly finished his bread and left.
As he strode back to the A3 nursery, his steps suddenly faltered. Just before reaching the door, his sharp eyes caught a sliver of an opening in the doorframe. His pupils contracted instantly.
Ten minutes earlier.
Not long after Wen Xin had left, a stranger appeared in the otherwise quiet hallway. He was a young man with a pockmarked face, short brown hair, and plain glasses.
Taking out a key, the man unlocked the door to the A3 nursery. Once inside, he avoided looking around and went straight for the incubator containing the Grey Egg.
Sensing danger, the Grey Egg froze in place.
The pockmarked man grinned silently, then turned the incubator’s temperature up to 70°C before placing the egg back inside.
In less than three minutes, the Grey Egg, unable to endure the heat, began rolling frantically. Its reddened shell slammed into the observation window with loud thuds.
Finally, the man seemed to take pity on it and picked it up again.
The Grey Egg struggled desperately in his hands. Seeing its vigor despite the high temperature, the man wasn’t angry but delighted. He muttered in a tone of twisted affection, “You resist my touch so much? Do you know that once, you—”
Before he could finish, Wen Xin kicked the door open.
The pockmarked man froze, clearly not expecting Wen Xin to return so suddenly. He stammered out an excuse on reflex, “I was just passing by and noticed the door was unlocked.”
Bam!
Before he could finish, Wen Xin’s fist landed squarely on his face.
Wen Xin didn’t hold back. In that instant, the man could hear the crack of his own jaw. Dazed, he was jolted back to reality by the searing pain, which erupted in a sharp, agonized wail.
“AAAAAHHHH—”
By now, some people had finished breakfast and were returning. Hearing the commotion, they rushed over.
“What happened?” “What’s going on?”
The Grey Egg slipped from the pockmarked man’s grasp, but Wen Xin’s quick reflexes caught it mid-air.
As soon as the egg landed in Wen Xin’s hand, its scorching heat seared his palm. The tiny Grey Egg trembled violently. Wen Xin glanced at the incubator’s display, which showed a blistering 70°C, and his anger soared.
With a frosty expression, he gently soothed the trembling egg with one hand while clenching the other into a fist. He struck the pockmarked man hard in the abdomen.
Zhou Zhao had just arrived at the crowded doorway when he heard an ear-splitting scream.
He was dumbfounded. Seeing the situation, he shouted hastily, “Stop it! What do you think you’re doing?!”
To his surprise, Wen Xin turned to him, his eyes rimmed red as he complained in an aggrieved tone, “Senior Zhou, he tried to sabotage me!”
Zhou Zhao’s initial anger at Wen Xin’s apparent brawling dissipated into confusion upon hearing the accusation.
“What?”
“I only went to have breakfast,” Wen Xin explained, trying to sound composed despite his trembling voice. “When I came back, I saw him sneaking into the nursery and turning the incubator up to 70°C! The books say that unless it’s a special high-temperature-resistant mutant egg, temperatures over 50°C will kill the egg!”
He looked as though he were swallowing his grievances. “D55 is my research subject. If anything happens to it, my work is ruined. He’s clearly trying to sabotage me.”
The surrounding interns, having heard the explanation, quickly pieced the story together.
Fully understanding the stakes, they began to glare at the pockmarked man on the floor. If a chosen mutant egg were damaged, the assistant’s assessment would be nullified, and they’d face expulsion from the research base due to failing performance standards.
Wen Xin added fuel to the fire. “And this man is very suspicious. I always lock the door. Where did he get the key?”
“Today he snuck into the A3 nursery to harm my egg. Tomorrow, he could sneak into A2 or A1 and harm your eggs!”
The mention of their eggs being targeted immediately unnerved some of the previously indifferent interns.
“Where did he get the key?”
“This guy is shady as hell. Setting the temperature to 70°C—if the egg wasn’t heat-resistant, wouldn’t it have been cooked on the spot?”
“Shouldn’t security be called for something like this?”
The growing outrage inflamed Zhou Zhao’s own temper. As the primary supervisor of the A3 nursery, he realized that any widespread incident involving the eggs would implicate him as well.
Still groaning on the ground, the pockmarked man was yanked to his feet by Zhou Zhao. “You—”
But as Zhou Zhao caught a clear look at the man’s face, his expression shifted.
Wen Xin noticed Zhou Zhao’s sudden change in demeanor and frowned, a sense of foreboding rising in his heart.
Sure enough, Zhou Zhao, who had been brimming with anger a second ago, suddenly looked grim. Turning to the indignant crowd, he said, “Alright, that’s enough. It was a misunderstanding.”
Someone in the crowd pressed on.
“A misunderstanding? What kind of misunderstanding?”
“The key? I gave it to him. I was worried Intern Wen might slack off, so I told him to take a look.”
Wen Xin’s heart sank.
He immediately shot back, one question after another: “Take a look? And that required turning the temperature up to 70°C?”
“D55’s incubator is clearly marked as having no physical resistance. We’re all supposed to be here based on real skills and qualifications. Are you saying he didn’t know this? Or did he get in through some backdoor deal?”
Zhou Zhao rubbed his forehead as he responded to Wen Xin’s cutting words, “Alright, maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly and mixed up the classifications of mutant eggs. But haven’t you already beaten him up enough?”
“He’s just like you, an intern. Now that he’s in this state, we don’t know how long he’ll need to recover. Meanwhile, the projects he’s responsible for will be unattended. Won’t that ultimately become your problem?”
The sheer audacity of Zhou Zhao’s twisted logic left the interns around them in stunned silence.
Wen Xin lowered his gaze, hiding the icy glint in his eyes.
Zhou Zhao’s attitude was suspicious. He was clearly intent on shielding the pockmarked man and brushing the matter aside.
But why?
Seeing Wen Xin remain silent with his head bowed, Zhou Zhao waved his hand dismissively. “Alright, that’s the end of it. If your egg is damaged, come find me, and I’ll let you pick another one. This offer is valid until the hatching begins.”
“Someone help carry Ding Pingle to the medical wing.”
What had been a dramatic scene moments earlier quickly dissipated as Zhou Zhao defused the situation. The crowd dispersed, leaving the doorway to the A3 nursery quiet once again.
Wen Xin stood there, holding the Grey Egg, his face unreadable as he watched Ding Pingle being taken away.
Fragments of gossip drifted over from the departing interns.
“That guy’s jaw was so swollen earlier. Wait—wasn’t that Ding Pingle from the A1 nursery? The only intern allowed to work in A1!”
“The mutant eggs in A1 are usually managed by assistant researchers. If he got in, he must have some serious connections.”
“Poor Wen Xin. He must’ve had it rough.”
“Not necessarily. He’s stationed in A3, so he probably couldn’t pick a good egg anyway. Didn’t Senior Zhou just say he could replace it? If he pleads, he might even get access to an egg from A2.”
“That’d be a stroke of luck. The eggs in A3 are mostly D-rank mutants. They’re no better than ordinary animals, and at best, they’re C-rank.”
Wen Xin closed the door, shutting out their idle chatter.
Though still angry, he didn’t let his emotions cloud his judgment.
On the contrary, he had maintained absolute composure throughout, even during the punches he threw at Ding Pingle.
That Ding Pingle could participate in A1 projects and even compel Zhou Zhao to speak on his behalf was enough to make his identity worth investigating.
Then there was that peculiar statement:
“You should know that once…”
Wen Xin shut his eyes briefly.
The tone Ding Pingle had used while saying that had been unnervingly familiar, and his expression suggested he saw Xiao Hei as some kind of cherished possession.
But the affection in his voice was laced with a controlling obsession that Wen Xin found deeply unsettling.
Looking down at the Grey Egg trembling in his hands, Wen Xin felt a pang of bitterness.
Was this something Xiao Hei had endured in the past as well?
The shivering egg gradually calmed down under Wen Xin’s soothing touch.
He adjusted the incubator’s temperature back to an appropriate level and prepared to place the egg inside.
Unexpectedly, the egg jumped, aiming for his pocket.
The pocket wasn’t an easy target. The Grey Egg slipped on the fabric, nearly crashing to the floor.
Startled, Wen Xin hastily caught it, lightly tapping its pointed end in exasperation. Unable to scold it harshly, he muttered, “What are you doing?”
The Grey Egg rubbed against his fingers but remained silent. Then it jumped again.
This time, Wen Xin couldn’t stop it.
Thud!
The Grey Egg arced gracefully through the air and crashed into a porcelain cup, chipping it. Yet, the egg itself remained unharmed.
Having broken the cup, the egg started jumping on the spot again, each bounce higher than the last.
The highest jump brought it level with Wen Xin’s chest.
At first, Wen Xin had been nervous. But realizing the egg wouldn’t get hurt, he gradually relaxed.
Watching the Grey Egg hop around, crashing here and there, he thought it might be venting its frustration at having been harmed.
But even after a while, as the egg tired, it kept jumping with determination.
Wen Xin began to suspect it was trying to communicate something.
Alas, the egg couldn’t speak, and he couldn’t decipher its intentions.
Finally, it seemed to realize the two of them couldn’t bridge their language barrier for now. Resolute, it hopped to the door and knocked on it.
“You want to go out?”
The egg nodded—or as much as an egg could nod.
Wen Xin hesitated but eventually picked it up and left the room.
The hallway was quiet, with only a few people hurrying to tend to their own eggs.
Following the Grey Egg’s pointed shell as a guide, Wen Xin arrived at the door to the A2 nursery.
He was about to knock when the egg began shaking violently, as if a child frantically shaking their head.
The message was clear: No.
Not A2.
Realization dawned on Wen Xin. “You overheard them saying I might pick a new mutant egg from A2, didn’t you?”
The Grey Egg remained silent, or perhaps it accepted it reluctantly.
“And earlier…”
In a sudden moment of clarity, Wen Xin’s thoughts seemed to align with the egg’s. He muttered in a complex tone, “Earlier, were you trying to show me your abilities?”
The egg fell silent again.
After a long pause, it nodded its pointed shell.
The Grey Egg was hard, could jump high, and didn’t crack upon landing—it was destined to hatch into a powerful mutant.
The egg tipped over, settling steadily in Wen Xin’s palm. It nuzzled against his hand.
It had never willingly exposed itself before, nor had it ever seriously demonstrated its abilities. Now, trying to do so to earn its place seemed somewhat clumsy.
Thankfully, Wen Xin understood.
So…
Don’t choose an egg from the A2 nursery. I’m enough for you, okay?
Realizing the Grey Egg’s intentions, Wen Xin felt his chest swell as if filled with a bittersweet warmth. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words to respond.
After a long pause, he reached out and gently stroked the egg’s shell, his lips curling into a soft smile. “What a silly egg.”
“Don’t worry, I only want you. No other egg will do.”
Over the next few days, Wen Xin had someone buy bread and water for him. He also found time to take the Grey Egg with him to the dormitory building to fetch a change of clothes.
All his daily activities—washing up, eating—were done in the A3 nursery. He even used a damp towel to sponge-bathe, staying by the egg’s side every moment.
Meanwhile, Ding Pingle remained in the medical wing, his fractured jaw still healing.
Zhou Zhao crossed paths with Wen Xin a few times but said nothing more.
On the surface, everything seemed to have returned to calm.
But Wen Xin never let down his guard.
The night before the hatching period, Wen Xin lay on the folding bed, on the verge of sleep, when a sudden and unbearable sense of dread seized his chest.
A thick smell of smoke wafted through the air.
His eyes flew open.
Blinding flames flickered through the crack in the door, casting a fiery glow into the room.
