After Raising Monsters, I Was Loved by Everyone in the Wasteland – CH104

Chapter 104

For a moment, Zhou Zhao thought he had misheard.

Staring at Wen Xin’s calm and impassive face, he looked utterly stunned.

Before coming here, Zhou Zhao had anticipated Wen Xin might harbor resentment. He had even prepared a list of compensations and crafted a convincing plea to smooth things over. Yet, he hadn’t considered the possibility that Wen Xin would outright refuse.

Zhou Zhao stammered, “I know you hate me, but I didn’t mean to harm you back then. I was just… I was just blinded by greed!”

“As long as you help me, I’ll restore your reputation immediately, get you transferred out of this dump, even secure funding and a promotion to assistant researcher! I can make it all happen!”

Wen Xin remained composed. “You came here alone, didn’t you? Did you make sure to avoid being seen?”

Of course not.

Zhou Zhao was as frantic as an ant on a hot pan, his mind so scrambled he didn’t even know what to do next. In his desperation to pour out his grievances to Wen Xin, he had even forgotten to shut the door, drawing the attention of passing onlookers who were now peeking inside.

Seeing Wen Xin’s serene, unwavering gaze, Zhou Zhao suddenly grasped its meaning. Muttering to himself in self-deception, he said, “I work at the base. My movements are confidential. It’s impossible for anyone to know I’m here.”

Wen Xin glanced toward the wide-open door.

Following his line of sight, Zhou Zhao also saw the curious crowd gathering outside. “…”

Evidently, the identities of everyone present wouldn’t change just because Zhou Zhao chose to delude himself.

Instantly, Zhou Zhao panicked further. He slammed the door shut with a loud bang, cutting off the view from outside. Bloodshot eyes fixed on Wen Xin, his words became reckless and unrestrained: “You have to help me! Otherwise, don’t even think about returning to the base, let alone claiming No. 1 again!”

Having unleashed his threat, Zhou Zhao abruptly switched to a pleading tone, his voice desperate and wheedling. “You’re its Hatcher. Don’t you want to see it again? Don’t you want to give it a name?”

Wen Xin hadn’t bothered to respond to Zhou Zhao’s earlier rambling, but at those final words, his head turned, his tone deliberate and cold: “They have never been objects, nor your so-called creations, let alone something for you to brand with a name.”

Meeting Wen Xin’s gaze, Zhou Zhao flinched involuntarily.

Wen Xin brushed past him and opened the door. “Do you know why I didn’t punch you the moment I saw you?”

Zhou Zhao blinked, as if suddenly recalling something.

What had initially impressed Zhou Zhao about Wen Xin wasn’t that he had willingly taken over the mess that was the A3 nursery—it was the fact that Wen Xin had shattered Ding Pingle’s jaw with a single punch.

At the time, Zhou Zhao had cursed inwardly. Ding Pingle bore an uncanny resemblance to a researcher Zhou Zhao once knew, possibly even a relative of theirs. If that were the case, and Wen Xin’s reckless actions brought trouble to Zhou Zhao, how would he handle it?

Yet, to Zhou Zhao’s surprise, after Ding Pingle’s beating, that researcher hadn’t shown the slightest sign of anger, as if entirely unaware of the incident.

Relieved, Zhou Zhao had dismissed the matter, mumbling to himself that he must have been mistaken, before quickly putting it out of his mind.

Now, recalling those events, the calm in Wen Xin’s words made Zhou Zhao’s unease intensify.

Wen Xin spoke in a low, steady voice, like a judge hammering down an irrevocable verdict. “Because I didn’t need to.”

As Wen Xin’s words fell, the door swung wide open, revealing a narrow street outside. A heavily armed military unit was advancing toward them, their footsteps thunderous and deafening.

Zhou Zhao caught sight of the insignia on the armed personnel’s uniforms and turned to flee. The squad leader noticed his intent and barked coldly, “Seize him!”

“What are you doing? What do you want?” Zhou Zhao was quickly subdued, his disheveled form struggling desperately. “I’m the base’s chief assistant! What right do you have to arrest me?”

The squad leader sneered. “Chief assistant? You mean the thief who stole an intern’s project and tried to deceive everyone above and below?”

Zhou Zhao’s eyes widened, his throat producing a strangled gasp of shock. “What? How do you know? Everyone who knew about it was dealt with—you can’t possibly know!”

“Assistant Zhou, I must remind you,” the squad leader leaned in close, his voice a low, mocking hiss in Zhou Zhao’s ear, “you look like a ridiculous clown right now. Did you really think killing or reassigning those who knew the truth would let you sleep easy? Don’t forget, you’re just an assistant researcher. The idea that you could fool those above you is laughable.”

Zhou Zhao’s face turned ghostly pale.

He opened his mouth to say something, but two soldiers clamped their hands over it and began dragging him away. When he tried to resist, one of them stomped hard on his leg, eliciting a muffled scream of pain.

The squad leader turned to Wen Xin. His demeanor softened considerably, even becoming obsequious.

He began recounting how Zhou Zhao had stolen Wen Xin’s achievements as a Hatcher, placing all the blame squarely on Zhou Zhao.

Why hadn’t anyone noticed? Because Zhou Zhao had colluded with his superiors to hide the truth. Why had no one questioned it? Because Zhou Zhao had silenced all the witnesses.

In short, all the wrongdoings were Zhou Zhao’s fault, and the base itself was a victim, misled and deceived.

The squad leader went on for a while before realizing the surrounding silence. Wen Xin had listened the entire time without so much as a nod of agreement.

Unease crept into the squad leader’s heart. Had Wen Xin noticed something?

“It’s fine,” Wen Xin finally said, his expression calm. “Let’s go.”

The squad leader exhaled in relief.

Under armed escort—or rather, detention—Wen Xin boarded a jeep.

“Has the investigation into the fire been concluded?” Wen Xin asked abruptly.

The squad leader wasn’t directly involved in the investigation but knew how complicated it had been. “Not yet. Each room has its own isolation layer, and the equipment was functioning normally when the fire started. No one can figure out how it began.”

Wen Xin had seen the events in the alternate dimension. The data source invasion presented in the illusion was separate from the real-world fire.

Following his intuition, Wen Xin thought of Ding Pingle, who had once tried to harm the Grey Egg.

The eggs in the A3 nursery weren’t valued. Apart from Zhou Zhao, no intern was willing to care for them. After Xiao Hei hatched, the base’s focus on him made it impossible for any intern to get near.

This led Wen Xin to a conclusion: Ding Pingle couldn’t have been a legitimate base personnel member in Xiao Hei’s past. He was likely a survivor posing as one.

If so, the fire was most likely Ding Pingle’s doing.

This man needed to be watched closely.

Though Wen Xin had been reassigned to an obscure rural area, it was still under the research base’s jurisdiction.

Before long, through the swirling dust, Wen Xin spotted the silhouette of the research base.

After disembarking, he underwent security checks, including body scans and pat-downs. As the process unfolded, Wen Xin quietly took in the surroundings, committing the base’s layout to memory. Once he left Xiao Hei’s alternate dimension, he would compare it with reality to pinpoint its location.

Deep down, Wen Xin already had some suspicions. He kept them to himself for now.

Entering the research base, Wen Xin found the scenery increasingly familiar. Several researchers in white coats waited eagerly at the crossroads. The moment they saw him, they beamed and rushed forward as though overjoyed to welcome him. To an outsider, it might have seemed as if they were genuinely enthusiastic.

“You’re finally here! Oh, what a time you’ve had. We never expected Zhou Zhao to be so vicious!”

“Exactly! And to think he was one of Professor Zhao’s students.”

“What a failure in judgment!”

Wen Xin listened to their chatter without uttering a word, his heart as clear as a mirror.

The nursery disaster had been catastrophic, resulting in the loss of countless mutant eggs and a complete waste of all invested resources. Someone must have informed the higher-ups about the situation.

Yet despite all this, Zhou Zhao had still managed to steal credit for Wen Xin’s work. How? Was it solely because Zhou Zhao had connections with superiors?

The base’s negligence must have played a part. To them, the identity of the Hatcher was inconsequential. As long as they had Xiao Hei, they didn’t care who had hatched him.

Now that Xiao Hei was in trouble, they were summoning Wen Xin back to fix the mess…

Wen Xin had never held much affection for the research base. Now, he found it utterly repugnant.

So what if it was technologically advanced? This place was rotten to the core.

The researchers, realizing Wen Xin hadn’t responded, grew embarrassed and quickly shifted to the main topic. “It must have been hard to be separated from the egg you hatched. You must miss it. Come, follow us.”

With that, they hurriedly led the way.

Wen Xin followed them into the laboratory building, which resembled a stadium and reeked of blood.

The thought of Xiao Hei being brought to such a place filled Wen Xin with an indescribable ache.

Suppressing his thoughts, he quickened his pace.

Suddenly, from the deepest part of the building came an earth-shaking roar that made the entire structure tremble. Alarms blared incessantly.

Amid the blinding red warning lights, the floor ahead of them shattered with a deafening crash, revealing a massive creature’s ferocious head.

Black scales, fangs, and a spine as hard as steel. With a deafening noise, the monster’s claws tore through the alloy floor, its massive body smashing through the ceiling and exposing itself to everyone’s view.

“It’s No. 1! It’s escaped! Somebody, quick!!”

The researchers in white coats surrounding Wen Xin screamed in terror and scattered in all directions. In the next instant, the monster opened its blood-stained maw and bit one of them cleanly in half.

Blood splattered everywhere, and a savage roar reverberated in Wen Xin’s ears. The overpowering scent of blood filled the air, piercing through his nostrils and almost making him gag.

The gruesome scene before him would have reduced anyone else to trembling legs. Wen Xin’s breath hitched as he faced the crimson-stained fangs.

Then pain shot through his back as the monster’s claws slammed him to the ground.

Its towering frame, large enough to break through the ceiling, exuded a suffocating sense of menace. Its blazing crimson eyes burned like fire, instilling a bone-deep chill of terror.

But Wen Xin had no time for fear. His gaze locked onto the creature’s body, frozen in shock.

Around its neck was an iron shackle, its thorn-like spikes digging into its scales, piercing its flesh, and leaving bloody holes. Chains and metal restraints clung to its spine, while its legs were bound with heavy iron rings.

The left side of its head, its chest, and its tail had scales peeling outward, exposing torn flesh and stark white bones marred by the scorched marks of electric shocks.

“What did they do to you?”

Under the monster’s deathly glare, Wen Xin reached out a trembling hand toward its cracked, wounded flesh. But his hand stopped halfway, unable to touch it. His eyes burned red with rage. “What did they do to you?!”

The savage look in the monster’s eyes faltered at the sheer anger and despair in Wen Xin’s voice.

The black beast stared at Wen Xin strangely, and the crimson in its eyes seemed to dim slightly.

It appeared to regain a fragment of its sanity, and as it caught a faint whiff of the grassy scent clinging to Wen Xin, its expression softened. The scent felt nostalgic, and the beast couldn’t help but sniff more closely.

“No. 1 hasn’t escaped yet—quick, get it!”

The black monster’s vision blurred.

The next thing it saw was Wen Xin, who moments earlier had seemed like easy prey, twisting agilely out from under its claws. Wen Xin grabbed a nearby weapon from the corpse beside him and fired a shot at the white-coated researcher rushing toward them.

The researcher screamed in pain, dropping the white case he had been carrying.

Hearing the clatter of the case hitting the ground, the black beast snapped back to its senses and fixated on the object with wary hostility.

Wen Xin recognized the case—it was the same type his brother used to carry, containing tools specifically designed to suppress mutants. Knowing how dangerous it was, Wen Xin didn’t hesitate. He reloaded the weapon and shouted, “Run! I’ll hold them off!”

But before he could finish, Wen Xin felt a tight grip on the back of his neck.

The black beast was still in its berserk state and didn’t recognize Wen Xin, but the familiar scent stirred a deep, inexplicable affection within it.

So instead of running, it clamped its jaws around Wen Xin, tossed him onto its back, and let out an ear-splitting roar that sent the approaching guards scattering. Then, it leaped away.

Clinging to Xiao Hei’s scales, Wen Xin’s head spun from the rapid movement. This was not how he had expected things to go.

The beast’s powerful strides made Wen Xin’s vision lurch and dip. Struggling to stay steady, his hand slipped and landed on something thin and long.

It moved—it was alive!

Wen Xin lifted the object for a better look. Green scales, slit-like pupils, fangs… It was a small green snake, its head no bigger than the tip of his fingers.

Recognizing the familiar creature, Wen Xin stared in disbelief. “…Ah Lü?”

The tiny snake wobbled its head, locking eyes with Wen Xin. Its gaze was clear and full of confusion.

It studied the human who had suddenly appeared on No. 1’s back. Oddly enough, it didn’t feel any aversion. On the contrary, the more it looked, the more it liked him.

Lacking a mature mind, the little snake couldn’t think too deeply.

In its simple worldview, things it liked should be eaten quickly—otherwise, they might be taken away.

Before Wen Xin could process the strange reappearance of Ah Lü, the little snake suddenly opened its tiny mouth, revealing sharp fangs, and bit down on his fingertip.

Wen Xin: “…!”