The golden eyes were icy and profound—unmistakably inhuman. Yan Zhongjie wasn’t slow to react; in an instant, he realized that Wen Xin and his companions had completely duped him.
At that moment, his expression darkened, terrifying to behold, as he grasped the severity of his oversight.
The mutant detection devices, long regarded by First Base as their greatest asset in monitoring mutants, had failed them. These devices, augmented with advanced base systems, could track all mutant movements within a five-kilometer radius, boasting an error rate of less than 0.01%.
That is, when they weren’t outdated.
“Like a pack of hyenas catching the scent of meat” aptly described the greed of First Base’s management. Years ago, the astronomical profits generated by their labs had made them insatiably envious, prompting them to cram more personnel into the research teams.
After Dr. An Qi’s injury, the personnel turnover in the data storage department alone exceeded three instances within a few months. Those who “voluntarily” left either became mutant feed or vanished without a trace.
The problem? None of these replacements possessed Dr. An Qi’s expertise in mutant research.
An Qi’s obsessive control over core research bordered on pathological. Despite having loyal subordinates, none could truly take over his responsibilities. The effectiveness of First Base’s anti-mutant devices relied heavily on An Qi’s unparalleled skill in mutant studies.
Without An Qi’s guidance, the device updates and redesigns had stalled six months earlier.
That may not seem long, but most powerful S-class beings, including the Tyrannosaurus Xiao Hei, had fully evolved within that time frame.
This meant the latest generation of detectors had no data on their evolved forms, making it impossible to track them.
Even Lan Tuan and the others hadn’t expected their infiltration into First Base to go so smoothly. To be safe, Xiao Qi had even prepared mental interference tactics, though these weren’t needed. A simple shapeshift sufficed for the entire infiltration.
This confirmed Wen Xin’s earlier analysis after communicating with Wen Jinfeng: “If my brother told us to take our time, it means the situation is far less urgent than it seems—or that something is holding First Base back.”
“According to intelligence from other factions, First Base’s population flow and resource consumption have remained steady over the past six months. Excluding external factors, it’s highly likely they’re dealing with a significant internal issue.”
“Currently, First Base is the target of widespread hostility. Any sudden movements would draw massive attention from other factions. Since we haven’t received such reports, it’s unlikely that information has been intercepted or delayed. Instead, it’s more probable that the incident occurred long ago, and its subsequent effects have been deliberately suppressed.”
Before his capture, Wen Jinfeng had mentioned a major event that shook the foundations of First Base: Dr. An Qi’s near-fatal injuries. Despite official claims that An Qi was fine, he had never reappeared to lead operations.
Wen Xin’s conclusion was direct: “This is our opportunity!”
His analysis was spot on, and Ah Lü couldn’t help feeling a surge of pride for the young man. Despite this, Ah Lü stayed vigilant, hiding in the shadows and keeping a close watch on Yan Zhongjie’s reaction. Wen Xin had also warned them: Yan Zhongjie’s swift response in covering up An Qi’s situation indicated he was far more cunning than his outward arrogance suggested.
Yan Zhongjie’s current behavior was indeed unusual.
Amid the cacophony of agonized screams, he didn’t flee. Instead, he lunged for a fallen firearm, moving with startling speed.
Ordinary firearms couldn’t harm S-class mutants, and even specialized ammunition required a direct hit. Attempting such a move in front of Yuan Yanzhong—the Tyrannosaurus—seemed an act of desperation.
Yet Yan Zhongjie wasn’t aiming at the courtroom’s center where Yuan Yanzhong stood. His target was above everyone’s heads!
With a sharp glint in his eyes, Yuan Yanzhong’s hand morphed into razor-sharp claws, striking Yan Zhongjie down like a hurricane.
But in the blink of an eye, Yan Zhongjie unleashed a burst of inhuman speed.
He wasn’t faster than Yuan Yanzhong—after all, the Tyrannosaurus, at its peak, could surpass the speed of sound. Yan Zhongjie’s sudden movement, however, exceeded Yuan Yanzhong’s expectations by a mere 0.01 seconds.
That fraction of a second allowed the bullet to hit its mark.
With a sharp bang, the fluorescent ceiling lights shattered under the impact. Immediately, an ear-splitting alarm blared. Mechanisms within the ceiling activated, and dozens of spray nozzles emerged, dispersing a fine gray-black powder into the air.
In the blink of an eye, the courtroom became a foggy, darkened forest.
The gray-black powder was a synthetic derivative of the crystals. Though not as potent, it could still significantly weaken mutants, even if it didn’t instantly immobilize them.
Feeling a familiar oppressive force, Yuan Yanzhong’s blood churned. He roared toward Lan Tuan and the others: “Get out of here! Leave the courtroom now!”
No sooner had he spoken than Yan Zhongjie pushed against the claws holding him down, laughing maniacally. “Too late to run now!”
Pinned beneath the Tyrannosaurus’s massive claws, the middle-aged man began thrashing wildly. His pupils faded, replaced by a feral crimson hue that morphed into beast-like vertical slits.
These cold, savage eyes, devoid of humanity, reminded Yuan Yanzhong of the artificially enhanced ability users First Base had created.
First Base, the origin of mass-produced ability users, had hastily ramped up its experiments after An Qi’s incapacitation. These experiments were even more reckless and dehumanizing than their mutant projects.
The result? Most mass-produced ability users succumbed to uncontrollable berserk states, ruled entirely by animalistic instincts.
Yan Zhongjie’s current behavior mirrored those frenzied reactions. Even more horrifying, his skin began to ripple unnaturally.
This wasn’t mere muscle spasms. The outer layer of his skin defied natural laws, writhing as if it had come alive. It was as if countless tiny worms beneath his veins were squirming all at once!
Yan Zhongjie had undergone the modification experiments as well!
“Yan Zhongjie is compromised—everyone, retreat!”
Li Yongming was among the first to react. Realizing the danger, he elbowed the staff member restraining him, broke free, and grabbed a rifle, unleashing a hail of bullets to cover the Survivor Alliance members as he urged them to evacuate.
The courtroom erupted into chaos, filled with gunfire, hurried footsteps, and panicked screams.
In mere seconds, Yan Zhongjie’s body underwent yet another horrifying transformation. His flesh swelled, skin stretched taut, as if a dozen invisible hands in the sky were yanking him in different directions with all their might.
He was moments away from becoming a grotesque, twisted monster—
Snap!
Yuan Yanzhong’s cold gaze showed no hesitation. Before the “creature” could fully form, he snapped its neck.
Yan Zhongjie’s head slumped lifelessly, his guttural wails abruptly silenced, and his body’s mutations ceased.
But in an unexpected turn, the previously subdued flesh began writhing violently again, launching itself at Yuan Yanzhong in a frenzied attack.
Reacting swiftly, Yuan Yanzhong pulled back just in time to avoid losing a chunk of flesh to the berserk mass.
“Ahhhh! Hahahaha! AHHHHH-HAHAHAHA!”
“It’s all because of you—because of all of you—that I’ve turned into this monstrosity!”
Free of restraints, Yan Zhongjie staggered to his feet. His grotesque form was dusted in gray-black powder, his bloodshot eyes bulging. His voice, a mix of agony and maniacal laughter, echoed in the room.
The mutant experiments had only been possible under Dr. An Qi’s direction, with Yan Zhongjie’s approval.
To An Qi, the mutants were works of art. To Yan Zhongjie, they were tools to consolidate power.
Now, not only had those tools turned against him, but they had driven him to his current state. As he endured inhuman agony, he directed all his pain and hatred at Yuan Yanzhong, his eyes burning with seething resentment.
“First Base created you! It was your master! And yet you choose to submit to an outsider? You betrayed your creators!”
“You beasts! You ungrateful animals! I’ll see you all destroyed!”
Suddenly, the ground beneath them began to tremble incessantly. San San’s ears flattened in alarm. “Is it an earthquake?!”
Wen Xin quickly discerned the source. “No, the vibrations are coming from the city center.”
He reached out to soothe the frightened red panda, gently patting its head as worry flickered in his eyes.
The Union Court was located in the city center. Judging by the tremors, it seemed a conflict had broken out there. Without Dr. An Qi’s backing, Wen Xin couldn’t predict what countermeasures Yan Zhongjie might have prepared against the S-class mutants. This uncertainty left him uneasy.
Still, the infiltration mission had gone relatively smoothly so far. Wen Xin knew he couldn’t afford to let himself be distracted. He could only trust his companions to handle the situation.
The commotion had indeed drawn attention. Guards who had been stationed near the clinic began peeking out from behind doors, their gazes fixed anxiously on the direction of the city center.
They whispered among themselves, debating whether to leave their posts and head over to support.
Wen Xin counted the heads—over twenty guards had been drawn out by the disturbance, but there were likely more still below.
Without hesitation, Wen Xin pressed the detonator in his hand.
BOOM!
