The tyrannosaurus’s unfocused pupils slowly lowered.
No. 2’s corpse lay crumpled on the ground, its grotesque mutations unfolding like an unleashed flood. Dark red, eyeball-like tumors bubbled forth, each sprouting rows of jagged teeth.
In mere moments, the body had turned into a mushy, unrecognizable mass, dead beyond a doubt.
The tyrannosaurus looked again at the vengeful specter glaring at it and realized—it was hallucinating.
This was not a good sign. It could feel its negative emotions spiraling out of control.
A desire to destroy everything. To annihilate everything.
The primal urge for carnage rooted deep in its genes surged and swelled, an unstoppable tide.
The buildings in its view were no longer static; they distorted into elongated black shadows, clawing toward it. Noise ebbed and flowed chaotically, perceptions muddled, and countless overlapping images—real and unreal—crowded its vision.
When the chaos reached its peak, the last shred of clarity in the tyrannosaurus’s mind whispered a grim proclamation:
[You will lose control.]
The black beast opened its blood-soaked maw, and a broken, despairing roar erupted from its throat—a mournful cry.
It turned toward Dr. An Qi, standing in the distance. The beast’s once-brilliant golden eyes had long been replaced by the frenzied crimson of madness, trembling violently.
Kill him.
Dragging its battered body forward, the tyrannosaurus advanced toward the old man, step by step.
Kill him. Kill him. Kill him!
Though it appeared to stagger, each step was swift and resolute, every movement charged with a desperate finality.
The guards and researchers had been pleading with Dr. An Qi to leave since the beginning, but the old man stood unmoved. Feeling the mounting pressure, panic gripped everyone around him.
“Doctor, it’s coming!”
Finally, the elderly scientist smiled faintly and tapped the lead ring on his thumb.
The lead casing on the ring shattered instantly, revealing a pure, transparent crystal within that glowed with a faint silver light.
Around them, the floodlights of a dozen armored vehicles illuminated the temporary encampment with blinding brilliance. Compared to this, the crystal’s faint glow seemed insignificant.
Yet the moment the tyrannosaurus saw it, it froze as if an arrow had pierced its heart. It ground to an abrupt halt, and an explosive tension rippled through its veins.
Its throat convulsed as it spat out scalding blood.
The tide turned in an instant. An assistant, who had been clutching his head in terror moments earlier, lowered his hands and stared in astonishment at the crystal on the doctor’s ring.
“Doctor, what is that?”
Dr. An Qi glanced at him but said nothing, a knowing smile on his face.
Meeting the elder’s deep, dark eyes, the assistant instinctively swallowed hard. Whatever curiosity he had felt vanished, replaced by a creeping chill from the pit of his stomach.
The assistant had worked by Dr. An Qi’s side for nearly two years, encountering him daily and becoming familiar with his habits—such as the frequent rotation of rings he wore.
But this lead ring, capable of killing mutants, was a first.
Until now, the assistant had believed himself more knowledgeable about Dr. An Qi than most of the research team.
Now, he looked at the smiling old man as though seeing a stranger for the first time.
Unbothered by his companion’s thoughts, Dr. An Qi approached the tyrannosaurus.
Each step he took sent spasms through the beast’s body, forcing it to cough up more blood.
The soil beneath it was saturated, turning into pools of vivid crimson.
When the doctor reached the creature, he followed its feral gaze to the ring on his hand, chuckling. “You wouldn’t know what this is. That’s natural. Almost everyone involved in its discovery—except for me—is no longer alive.”
Speaking of the past, the old man’s tone turned reflective, a blend of nostalgia and calm.
“When we first found it, we were astounded by the immense energy it contained. We scoured every piece of literature available but found no mention of it. This meant it was something entirely new.”
“Everyone was ecstatic. After all, in an era of dwindling natural resources, discovering a new energy source would revolutionize the world.”
Here, Dr. An Qi paused, closing his eyes with a touch of regret. “Unfortunately, not everyone can accept new things so readily.”
“They either left or died. I was too old to continue the analysis alone, so the research was forced to halt. It was only later that I discovered its greatest use wasn’t as a natural energy source but as something that could utterly suppress your kind.”
“But your kind cannot withstand its effects, so I dissected its components and barely managed to create an imitation with similar functionality.”
The doctor extended a finger, wiping a bit of the bloodstained crystalline dust from one of the beast’s wounds. “This stuff—it’s a bit shoddy, quite expensive, and not very durable. Sorry if it embarrassed you.”
“An… Qi…” The tyrannosaurus’s jagged teeth gnawed at the hated name.
The old man was unfazed. He raised his hand with the crystal and patted the beast twice, like a parent soothing a restless child.
“It’s time, No. 1.”
His voice, soft as a demon’s whisper, continued. “If you don’t lose control, how will the world know your terror and submit to First Base, which can subdue you?”
The tyrannosaurus fought desperately to resist, but its will crumbled like a dam under the pressure of an advancing flood.
It trembled, struggling against the inevitable, until finally, with a guttural roar, it gave in.
The sound was devoid of all emotion, the cry of a beast breaking free of its chains, proclaiming its most primal desires.
Dr. An Qi straightened and stepped back, spreading his arms to make way for the rampaging monster.
As the doctor retreated, the crystal’s influence waned, and the black beast staggered to its feet.
Overhead, the last slivers of moonlight were devoured by rapidly gathering storm clouds. Shadows swallowed the city of G, and flashes of lightning revealed its scarred and desolate face.
BOOM!
Thunderclaps shook the heavens.
The apocalypse had begun.
The personnel of First Base gathered around Dr. An Qi, their faces a uniform mask of awe and sycophancy despite their inner fears.
Their effusive praises had the old man feeling relaxed, though he remained composed.
Turning back, he gazed at the rampaging black beast with the pride of an artist admiring a masterpiece. A smile tugged at his lips.
“Well, it’s time for us to leave—”
BANG!
A gunshot rang out, shattering the charged atmosphere surrounding First Base’s personnel.
The serene smile still lingered on Dr. An Qi’s face, but the gaping, blood-soaked hole in his chest was a shocking sight.
The personnel of First Base froze in stunned silence before their pallid faces snapped back to awareness. Panic surged, and screams rang out.
“An attack! We’re under attack!”
Dr. An Qi didn’t die immediately.
His lips trembled uncontrollably, blood spilling from his mouth. With a thud, he collapsed to the ground.
The team scrambled in disarray, rushing to help him up.
The old man writhed like a fish gasping on dry land, the veins on his withered hands bulging with a sickly blue-purple hue. Blood and saliva gurgled in his throat as his wide, bloodshot eyes seemed ready to pop from their sockets—ghastly and contorted.
And then—
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bullets found their mark on Dr. An Qi’s head, spraying blood and brain matter, drenching the helpers beside him.
Frozen in shock, they let out screams, instinctively releasing his body, which fell to the ground with a lifeless thud.
The captain of the guard roared, “Who’s shooting?!”
Amid the chaos, someone finally broke from their stupor and turned toward the direction of the shots.
Perched high on a tree branch, surrounded by dense leaves, stood a slim figure.
The young man’s gaze locked onto them, his emotions unreadable. As the guards flinched and hesitated, two more precise shots rang out, shattering Dr. An Qi’s heart and throat.
Every vital point on the elder’s body, without exception, had been methodically targeted by the youth’s bullets. Even for a creature with multiple hearts or brains, there was no coming back from this.
The team quickly raised their weapons, but in the blink of an eye, the figure vanished.
The captain reacted swiftly. “He hasn’t disappeared—he’s on the left! Fire! Everyone, concentrate firepower on him!”
The personnel turned in panic, spotting a shadow weaving through the dim environment. Gunfire erupted in rapid succession.
But the shadow moved too fast—inhumanly fast—evading the barrage like a specter. The cacophony of gunshots trailed behind him, hopelessly outpaced.
“We can’t hit him! He’s an ability user! Think of something!”
“He’s closing in on us!”
The close quarters made mortars unusable. First Base had cleared the surrounding area of survivors, and patrol squads guarded the perimeter. Never had they expected someone to breach their defenses, infiltrate the camp, and assassinate Dr. An Qi!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
More shots shattered the lights on the armored vehicles. Glass shards clattered to the ground, plunging the entire encampment into chaos and darkness.
The scene devolved into a frenzied mess, and Wen Xin took the opportunity to blend into the crowd.
Near Dr. An Qi’s lifeless body, his assistant stumbled to his feet, trying to escape with the other researchers. But suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around his throat from behind.
In a flash, Wen Xin’s eyes locked on the silver-white ring on the elder’s thumb. His hand reached for it, instincts screaming that the object was critical.
From within his clothes, Ah Lü thrashed violently, crying out in unbearable pain. “Wen Xin, leave here now! I can’t bear it—it hurts too much!”
Wen Xin hesitated for a split second before decisively opening fire.
Three shots shattered the crystal embedded in the ring, mixing its shards with the old man’s mangled flesh.
The destruction of the crystal caught the attention of First Base’s guards, who turned and unleashed a hail of bullets in Wen Xin’s direction.
Dragging the assistant with him, Wen Xin bolted at full speed.
The guards, none of whom had abilities, were unable to keep up. They could only watch helplessly as he escaped, cursing in frustration.
Meanwhile, back at the camp—
“Dr. An Qi?!”
The personnel of First Base froze in terror, turning back in disbelief.
The corpse, which had long gone cold, suddenly sat up. Its upper body moved stiffly, like a rusted machine forced into action.
The once-pristine white coat, now tattered and bloodied, exposed scars from countless surgeries and experiments. Dark purple wounds pulsed and squirmed beneath the fabric, like parasitic creatures urging their host to feed.
“…D-Doctor?”
Roar!
A guttural, zombie-like howl erupted from the old man as he lunged toward No. 2’s corpse, tearing at its flesh with his hands and feasting ravenously.
The wet crunch of chewing echoed through the air. The guards froze, staring at the horrifying spectacle as though they’d witnessed pure madness. Their hands trembled on their guns.
Unaware of the chaos behind him, Wen Xin found it unexpectedly easy to shake off his pursuers. He had assumed it would take significant effort, but few seemed to follow.
Dumping Dr. An Qi’s assistant onto the ground, Wen Xin crouched beside him, cutting straight to the point. “Where’s the suppressant?”
The assistant, dizzy and stammering, asked, “W-what suppressant?”
Ah Lü stirred weakly within Wen Xin’s clothing, its blood boiling from its proximity to the silver crystal. Its head poked out, eyes cold and snake tongue flickering.
Ding Pingle hadn’t had access to top-level experiments, but this assistant was different.
The moment he saw Ah Lü, recognition dawned on his face—Number Seven. His fear transformed into incredulous shock.
Wen Xin pressed him further.
“When mutants lose control, you use a suppressant to calm them down. Where is it stored?”
The assistant, incapable of resisting, caved under the threat.
Within minutes, Wen Xin followed the assistant’s directions to a remote observation station two kilometers away, where he found the suppressant.
The vial of glowing blue liquid shimmered as it sloshed within its container, radiating an almost mesmerizing light.
For no apparent reason, Wen Xin felt a peculiar sense of reverence as he gazed at the suppressant.
Despite its discomfort, Ah Lü forced itself to help verify the liquid’s authenticity. With a nod, it confirmed that the suppressant was genuine.
Satisfied with the assistant’s cooperation, Wen Xin gripped the man’s head firmly. With a sharp crack, he ended his life swiftly and painlessly.
Ah Lü, panting weakly, looked at the young man. “Wen Xin, even with the suppressant, it’s not guaranteed to bring Xiao Hei back to his senses. Are you sure you want to try?”
Wen Xin’s response was resolute. “Yes.”
Ah Lü’s mouth quirked slightly, as though it wanted to smile or nuzzle him, but the lingering effects of the silver crystal left the snake listless and drained. It simply lacked the energy.
Gently, Wen Xin stroked its head, calming the creature before tucking it back into the folds of his clothing. He then retrieved all twenty doses of the suppressant from the storage case and loaded them into the pockets of his tactical vest.
Outside the observation station, a few combat aircraft sat idle on the tarmac. Most of the guards were either dead or incapacitated, and those still able had been sent to the front lines.
Seizing the moment, Wen Xin climbed into one of the fighter planes. As he faced the colorful, complex controls on the console, he felt a wave of relief that he’d had a brief stint of hands-on training at the armory in the southern district.
Though far from proficient, he at least knew enough to get airborne.
The heavens above were painted a deep, foreboding red, with turbulent storm clouds roiling in chaotic waves.
The black beast roared ferociously, its voice reverberating across a hundred miles. Wherever it went, thunderbolts rained down with deafening force. Each strike, like a massive serpent, tore into the ravaged earth below.
The ground split apart, spewing smoke and molten lava from deep within the crust. Gale-force winds howled, uprooting trees and toppling buildings alike.
Every living being caught within its oppressive aura—mutants, zombies, wild animals, and human survivors—was gripped by an inescapable terror.
Deep within its own heart, the tyrannosaurus emitted an unceasing lament.
[No…]
[Control yourself. Don’t let your nature consume you!]
At that critical moment, a voice called out from the distance.
“Xiao Hei—!”
The shout was faint against the cacophony of the storm, as insignificant as the breath of an insect. It should have been utterly lost amidst the crashing thunder.
But the tyrannosaurus heard it.
Its massive body froze, and it whipped its head around, crimson eyes locking onto the distant horizon.
From afar, a combat aircraft emerged, casting two brilliant beams of white light—dazzling, like the first rays of a glorious sunrise piercing through the ink-black night.
