Chapter 121
Perhaps due to the sheer volume of paperwork he had processed, Wen Xin’s subordinate calling out to report momentarily made Ah Jiu think they were addressing him.
Ah Jiu spun around quickly, about to ask what had happened, but a cold and commanding tone from Wen Xin cut through the moment.
He immediately shut his mouth, narrowly avoiding an embarrassing misunderstanding.
“Prophecy?” Wen Xin asked again. “What prophecy?”
The subordinate, rushing to report, seemed startled to see others present at Wen Xin’s home. He discreetly made a hand gesture, the meaning of which was clear.
Wen Xin frowned slightly, then gently set down the two small bundles he was holding. He walked past Ah Jiu, his profile illuminated in a mix of light and shadow, appearing sharper and sterner than usual.
This composed yet imposing figure was a stark contrast to the easygoing youth of the past. Ah Jiu couldn’t help but pause, startled by the change.
The identities of the little bundles were no secret. Their vibrant colors and distinct appearances had often brought humans and mutants face-to-face. However, the subordinates showed no signs of relaxing despite their cute appearances. His eyes scanned the bundles with a mix of wariness, apprehension, and a hint of hostility.
Only when Wen Xin stood in front of him, his brow furrowed and his expression cold, did the subordinate quickly lower his gaze in alarm.
Turning back to the bundles, Wen Xin offered them an apologetic smile. “I need to take care of something. It shouldn’t take long. Be good while I’m gone, and I’ll bring back something delicious for you.”
Xiao Qi, still deliberating with Ah Lü about how to confess the truth, looked at Wen Xin with puppy-dog eyes. “Come back soon, okay?”
“I will,” Wen Xin replied, with a small smile. He then pointed at Ah Lü, warning, “Listen up—all of you. Get along. No fighting.”
The bundles felt accused unfairly. They were peaceful! How could they possibly fight?
But the moment Wen Xin left with the subordinate, the atmosphere in the courtyard shifted. Dry leaves trembled on the trees, and the air grew colder by the second.
Ah Jiu was the first to break the silence, unable to hold back the thorn in his heart. “Why has Wen Xin become like this?”
His sharp gaze was fixed on Ah Lü, and his tone carried an accusatory edge.
Ah Lü, preoccupied with planning their confession, snapped back instinctively. “What do you mean, like this?”
Ah Jiu’s expression darkened. “Have you not noticed how much Wen Xin has changed? He’s thinner, his complexion is so pale—and you call this taking care of him?”
This hit a sore spot for Ah Lü.
It could shield Wen Xin from enemies, but it couldn’t stop him from overworking himself with endless paperwork. Even Yuan Yanzhong had compromised under Wen Xin’s persistence—what could Ah Lü possibly do to stop him?
Still, Ah Lü refused to tolerate Ah Jiu’s accusations. A surge of S-class aura erupted from it, crashing down on Ah Jiu like a tidal wave.
“I didn’t take good care of Wen Xin, sure. But what about you? What have you done for him? Why didn’t you show up the day Yuan Yanzhong lost control? Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it!”
Ah Jiu froze under the oppressive aura, his instincts kicking in as his own S-class energy surged to counteract it. Unable to hold back, he snapped, “I did come! But Yuan Yanzhong’s aura was too overwhelming—I blacked out mid-flight and didn’t wake up for two days!”
Ah Lü scoffed. “What a useless idiot.”
Ah Jiu had spent half his life as a so-called failure at the base. But after his rise in Rose City, no one dared call him weak, and he had long stopped caring about such insults.
Yet at this moment, Ah Lü’s mockery felt like a blade stabbing into his chest, reigniting his suppressed desire for blood.
SLAM!
The courtyard door suddenly swung open, revealing Ah Zi’s expressionless, furry face. One paw dripped with water, while the other held a gleaming kitchen knife.
“Are you two looking for a fight?”
Ah Zi’s words did nothing to de-escalate the situation; instead, they seemed to fan the flames further.
Three bursts of ferocious S-class energy clashed violently, igniting sparks in the air. The once peaceful courtyard instantly became a battlefield.
Ah Jiu cracked his knuckles. Ah Lü bared its fangs. Ah Zi gripped the knife tighter.
A fight was imminent.
The only one affected by their aggression was San San, who, as an A-class, couldn’t withstand the S-class pressure. It whimpered pitifully and darted to hide by the wall, trembling as it glanced at Lan Tuan and Xiao Qi for help.
That’s when San San noticed Lan Tuan had already reverted to its seal form.
Waves of water churned in the bucket, sloshing loudly—an eerie reflection of the little seal’s unsettled emotions.
Meanwhile, Xiao Qi tried to mediate, shouting, “Stop it, you guys!” But his pupils narrowed, and his body tensed, a low growl escaping unconsciously.
The tension in the air was suffocating.
ROAR!
A deep, tyrannosaurus roar echoed from the direction of the municipal building.
The overwhelming pressure descended upon the courtyard, catching the combatants off guard and forcing them to stumble and collapse.
“My head!” “Ouch!” “That hurt!”
Ah Jiu groaned as he sat up, his face aching. More concerning was the hole in the ground where he had fallen. Seeing the damage, his mind raced, trying to figure out how to explain it to Wen Xin.
“Wait… What was I doing just now?” Ah Jiu muttered, shaken back to his senses.
Yuan Yanzhong’s imposing roar hadn’t spared anyone. Ah Lü’s scales shivered as it rubbed its throbbing head with its tail, muttering, “You tell me. Suddenly acting like you’ve eaten gunpowder.”
Ah Zi wobbled as it regained its balance. The interruption had blown away its anger like a gust of wind.
Moments later, the purple squirrel spoke, its tone calm and pointed. “There are too many S-class beings here.”
S-class mutants were all natural-born rulers, their domineering nature deeply ingrained in their very genes. This made it nearly impossible for them to coexist peacefully.
The mutual repulsion of their auras wasn’t limited to one-on-one interactions—it was a cascading chain reaction. Once conflict began, it would spread like wildfire, causing every one of them to lose reason and erupt into uncontrollable fights.
Were it not for the absolute strength of Yuan Yanzhong holding them all in check, their destructive power could level the entire city in moments, forcing it to be rebuilt from the ground up.
Realizing how close they’d come to causing such a catastrophic outcome, the bundles shivered in unison.
As the instigator of the conflict, Ah Jiu pressed his lips together and lowered his head in apology.
Meanwhile, Ah Lü was in no mood to be forgiving. Normally, it would have dragged Ah Jiu into a fight over such a matter, but today it couldn’t even summon the energy to argue.
Xiao Qi shook his head to clear it, then approached Ah Jiu, gently nudging his tense face with his nose. “Ah Jiu, what happened to you just now? You seemed really upset and scared.”
Ah Jiu stayed silent, but under Xiao Qi’s persistent coaxing, he finally spoke in a hoarse voice: “Wen Xin has changed. A lot.”
Ah Lü found the statement ridiculous. “Wen Xin’s always been growing and changing. Isn’t that normal?”
“It’s not the same,” Ah Jiu replied, his expression heavy. “When you came to Rose City, Wen Xin had changed a lot too, but it was never like this. This time, it feels like he’s… like he’s given up on something very important.”
Ah Jiu glanced at Ah Lü, opened his mouth as if to say more, then closed it again. After repeating the motion a few times, he finally blurted out his true feelings, sounding defeated: “I just… hate that I couldn’t do anything to help.”
Hearing this, Ah Lü’s expression softened slightly. At least Ah Jiu wasn’t just looking for an argument.
“You can’t think like that,” Xiao Qi interjected, breaking through Ah Jiu’s self-recrimination. He spoke earnestly, “I can feel it. Wen Xin doesn’t feel unhappy doing what he’s doing.”
Lan Tuan nodded in agreement. “With us around, if Wen Xin didn’t want to do something, no one could force him. He wouldn’t hold back for anyone.”
Ah Jiu’s face remained gloomy.
From the moment Wen Xin expressed his desire to build a survivor base, Ah Jiu had been worried.
A city encompassing tens of thousands of people would inevitably include countless hidden agendas. No matter how exceptional a leader was, it was impossible to please everyone.
There would always be a few troublemakers stirring dissent, and with that would come the necessity for bloodshed and harsh measures.
Change in Wen Xin was inevitable—anyone in such an environment would struggle to remain untainted.
That would lead to shaken resolve, crumbling beliefs, and eventually, total collapse.
At first, Xiao Qi thought Ah Jiu’s concerns were baseless. But sensing the genuine anxiety in Ah Jiu’s heart, he too began to feel unsettled.
As the leader of the Idealism Sect, Xiao Qi was highly attuned to the emotions of his followers. Their feelings were like open safes with no passwords, their contents laid bare before him.
This gave Xiao Qi a deep empathy for Ah Jiu’s worries.
After a moment of silence, Xiao Qi spoke up. “That person earlier… seemed to really dislike mutants.”
Plenty of people hated mutants, just as mutants harbored no less hatred for humans.
Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t have been more than a trivial annoyance.
But Ah Jiu remained uneasy. He turned to Ah Lü and Ah Zi, making the same hand gesture Wen Xin’s subordinate had used earlier. “Do you know what this gesture means?”
Every task force had its own set of hand signals and codes for use in situations where speaking was impossible.
Having spent so much time with Wen Xin, both Ah Lü and Ah Zi had naturally picked up a lot of these signals. However, one had been in the kitchen preparing food, and the other had their view obstructed, so neither had noticed the earlier exchange.
Now, seeing Ah Jiu’s gesture, Ah Zi immediately recognized it. “This means ‘mutant.’”
So, the prophecy the subordinate had come to report… was about mutants?
Combined with the man’s overt hostility, the bundles began to sense that something was wrong—or more specifically, that something very unfavorable was happening to them.
Xiao Qi was indignant. “Do they plan on talking bad about us to Wen Xin?”
Even the usually laid-back Lan Tuan, who spent most of its time either sleeping or lounging, began to reflect on whether it had done anything that could be seen as suspicious.
Having been prepared to confess everything, Ah Lü was now in full-blown panic.
It shot forward, wrapping itself around Ah Jiu’s arm and urging him to take action. “Don’t just stand there! Fly over and see what’s going on!”
Startled by Ah Lü’s urgency, Ah Jiu hesitated. “Why are you so worked up?”
“Can’t you see? Yuan Yanzhong’s cover is blown, and so is mine! Wen Xin probably knows something, but I don’t know how much!” Ah Lü was growing increasingly agitated. Voluntarily confessing and having your lies exposed were two completely different things.
Ah Jiu stiffened under the sharp tone, and with a reflexive jolt, his back sprouted two sharp bulges. In a flash, powerful wings burst through his clothes, ready for flight.
Just as he was about to take off, his right foot was suddenly held down—Lan Tuan had latched onto him.
Then his left leg was grabbed as well. Xiao Qi clung tightly to Ah Jiu’s calf, just as frantic as Ah Lü. “Take me with you, Ah Jiu! Hurry!”
Ah Jiu: “…”
Before he could respond, the torn fabric on his back suddenly pulled taut.
Still dazed, San San was scooped up by Ah Zi and tossed onto Ah Jiu’s back. Unsteady and panicking, San San instinctively extended its claws, trying to latch on.
But it had clearly forgotten how sharp its claws were.
Rip—
Ah Jiu felt a cold draft on his back.
The wind howled, slipping through the newly torn gaps. The courtyard fell into a stunned silence.
San San trembled, its voice quivering on the verge of tears. “S-sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
The little squirrel coughed twice and said, “I’ll try to throw more accurately next time.”
While speaking, it leaped up and perched on Ah Jiu’s other shoulder.
“…” Almost able to visualize his torn shirt turning into a backless design, Ah Jiu’s temple throbbed with frustration. “Why can’t you all just get there on your own?!”
Ah Lü retorted, “How am I supposed to run in this form? Besides, running isn’t as fast as flying. Stop complaining—it’s your fault for stirring up trouble earlier. Carrying us is the least you can do.”
“But the S-class aura repulsion—” Ah Jiu started to argue.
The normally silent Lan Tuan suddenly chimed in, “Is the repulsion scarier than Wen Xin losing his temper?”
Ah Jiu froze mid-sentence, and the other bundles fell silent.
Finally understanding the situation, the ever-cautious San San timidly asked, “Did you guys lie to Wen Xin about something?”
“…”
“It’s okay, don’t be scared,” San San attempted to comfort them. “Wen Xin is really understanding. He always says getting angry doesn’t solve anything, so he rarely loses his temper.”
The bundles visibly relaxed.
San San added, “But he also said some principles can’t be compromised.”
Ah Lü immediately used its tail to cover San San’s mouth. “Stop talking!”
“…” The little squirrel calmly intervened, “It’s fine, kids say the darndest things.”
Xiao Qi reassured everyone, “And besides, it’s not like we broke any principles!”
But Lan Tuan’s concerns were different. Having never hidden its identity from Wen Xin, it couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the mention of the prophecy. Memories of its mentor, the blue whale, and his deep hatred for humans stirred up an internal unease.
If they delayed any longer, the rumors might already be taking root before they even got there.
With no other option, Ah Jiu reluctantly flew toward the municipal building, carrying the assortment of bundles.
Yuan Yanzhong, the massive black beast, opened its eyes and gave them a dismissive glance. “Why aren’t you staying put at home? What are you doing here?”
Yuan Yanzhong was far less accommodating than Wen Xin.
Remembering their near fight earlier, the bundles held their breaths. Ah Lü stepped forward and said, “We want to know if the prophecy has anything to do with us.”
Yuan Yanzhong’s eyes flashed with mockery. “Prophecies are rarely accurate.”
Base One had once predicted that Yuan Yanzhong would inevitably lose control and cause catastrophic destruction to the world. Yet Wen Xin had intervened and saved him before any such disaster could occur.
“But,” Ah Lü argued, “if the prophecy reveals our identities, Wen Xin might figure out the truth. Aren’t you worried he’ll get mad?”
“Mad about what?” Yuan Yanzhong asked indifferently.
“We lied to him! Have you forgotten how we approached him in cat form?”
Yuan Yanzhong fell silent.
For a moment, the bundles felt as though his gaze carried a trace of disbelief, as if he were looking at fools. However, Yuan Yanzhong sighed softly and waved them through without comment.
The bundles quickly slipped into the building. As long as they didn’t reveal themselves, no guards could detect their presence.
Following the faint traces of sound, they located the meeting room.
The walls were soundproofed, but the advanced hearing of S-class mutants rendered that irrelevant. As they neared the room, an angry voice boomed from within:
“They’re deceiving you! Those mutants approached you with nothing but ill intentions!”
All the bundles tensed immediately.
“What evidence do you have?” came Wen Xin’s calm response.
“I saw it! They mask themselves with harmless appearances to win your pity and sympathy, only to later turn you against Base One and humanity itself!”
Xiao Qi’s fur bristled as he whispered, “That’s ridiculous! How could they—”
“Shh,” Ah Jiu interrupted. “Don’t make a sound.”
His expression darkened as he continued to listen, his fingers gripping the doorframe so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
In the past, Ah Jiu wouldn’t have cared about such slander. But Wen Xin was now a leader, a ruler among humans. His position would naturally align more closely with human interests.
If their hidden identities were exposed, there would be no way for them to defend themselves.
The meeting had clearly been going on for some time, with more than one voice loudly criticizing mutants.
Then Wen Xin spoke, his calm tone instantly silencing the room. “Based on your analysis, it’s possible I could be swayed by sympathy and illusion into opposing Base One.”
Illusion was Xiao Qi’s ability. Hearing this, the fox’s face turned ashen.
The other bundles were struck with a wave of suffocating despair.
Who could have predicted that a simple lie told long ago would be twisted into a conspiracy so grave?
But that wasn’t the point.
The real concern was how Wen Xin would view this revelation. Would he believe they had approached him with malicious intent?
None of the bundles dared to imagine his reaction.
Inside the meeting room, more voices chimed in, condemning the mutants for past incidents of attacks on humans, painting them as cunning and cruel.
Ah Lü was both enraged and frightened. It wanted to storm in and refute the accusations but found itself frozen at the door, paralyzed by fear.
Then Wen Xin’s calm voice cut through the chatter, firm and unyielding: “But there’s one flaw in your prophecy.”
“What flaw?”
“You claim they’ve deceived me for a long time, and that I’ll only realize their true nature at the moment of my downfall with Base One. That part doesn’t hold.”
The loud voice seemed startled, clearly catching the implication. “Are you saying…?”
“Yes, I know,” Wen Xin said. “I know they are escaped experimental subjects from Base One. I know their cat forms were disguises. And I know our meeting wasn’t a coincidence.”
At this point, Wen Xin paused. His expression softened, his brows relaxing as a gentle smile spread across his face. His tone remained as calm and warm as ever.
“I’ve known since the very first time I met them.”
