Lan Tuan’s eyes drifted to the page where Wen Xin’s finger paused for quite some time. The Director noticed and turned his attention there.
Upon seeing the mutant’s profile, the gloom in his expression lightened a little, though it was quickly replaced with astonishment.
Wen Xin suppressed the surge of emotion in his eyes. Noticing the Director’s unusual reaction, he casually remarked, “This mutant seems rather unique… Are there actually friendly mutants?”
San San, dissatisfied, began tugging at Wen Xin’s pant leg.
Wen Xin couldn’t help but laugh. He discreetly gestured to reassure the trio.
But then, he caught sight of the Director’s horrified expression, his face pale as if a taboo topic had been broached.
The Director snatched the report from Wen Xin’s hand, his demeanor somber. Looking at the text, he asked, seemingly out of nowhere, “Have you ever heard of a rumor about a purple squirrel?”
The manager frantically shook his head at Wen Xin, signaling him to stop. However, Wen Xin, determined for Ah Zi’s sake, refused to let the conversation drop.
Recalling the scarred man’s earlier reaction, he explained, “I’ve heard about it, but no one wanted to elaborate. They just seemed terrified.”
“Terrified…” The Director echoed the word, then suddenly laughed bitterly. “Yes, terror is what’s warranted.”
Wen Xin raised his head. “The ‘friendly’ label was crossed out, and it’s now marked as ‘extremely dangerous.’ Did something terrible happen?”
“Terrible? It was a massacre! Everyone in that place was wiped out, blood soaked the ground, and the entire factory floor was stained red. You tell me—does that sound ‘not terrible’ to you?”
He threw the report to the floor, his face a mixture of emotions before quickly masking it.
The Director’s voice grew sharp and acrid. “When you go in later, if you encounter it, run. If you’re lucky, you might just survive a little longer.”
Minutes later, the group set off.
The rodent workers were tasked with a photographic sweep of the area, their route differing significantly from Wen Xin’s group. Since they dared not venture deeper, the two groups soon grew distant from each other.
Standing outside the cordon, one could see through the faint red mist—thin wisps resembling crimson gossamer that allowed glimpses of the factory interior.
However, once inside, Wen Xin realized the mist was far more obstructive than it appeared.
He glanced back but could no longer see the rodent workers.
“Cough, cough!”
The protective suits were stifling. Several trainers covered their mouths, coughing repeatedly and pulling at their collars as if struggling to breathe.
Adjusting the high-density filter in his mask, Wen Xin managed to regulate his breathing, easing the pressure on his chest.
Ah Lü, the scaly tree viper, lay coiled on Wen Xin’s shoulder. In a voice audible only to them, it whispered, “If that man’s description is accurate, Ah Zi’s situation looks grim.”
“Agreed.” Wen Xin’s expression was heavy. “We need to find it quickly.”
The Director’s words had made it clear—Ah Zi likely went on a rampage during the previous incident, leaving behind only fear in its wake.
Wen Xin trusted his little companions implicitly. Ah Zi wouldn’t harm others without reason. If it had, there were only two possibilities: either it was provoked or it had lost control.
But before leaving, the purple squirrel had demonstrated excellent emotional regulation.
The annotation “Untamable” on the record stood out. Could someone have tried using drugs, as the trainers did, to subdue Ah Zi?
Clenching his jaw, Wen Xin scanned the guards trailing behind him.
These people were likely to harm Ah Zi on sight. He had to find a way to shake them off.
The hazardous zone was fraught with dangers.
The eerie quiet was shattered when a sharp bark rang out from the dense red mist, like a thunderclap exploding by their ears.
One of the trainers suddenly froze, terror etched on his face. He instinctively reached for a companion. “Something’s biting me! Help—”
Before he could finish, something latched onto his leg, dragging him backward. He toppled to the ground and disappeared into the mist at lightning speed.
Crunch. Crunch.
The horrifying sound of chewing came from where the trainer vanished, mingled with fragmented, inhuman screams. The guards had already drawn their guns, firing frantically at the source of the sound.
Amid the ferocious gunfire, the red mist thinned slightly, revealing a terrifying figure darting through the haze.
It was a dog, but larger than normal canines. Bloodied flesh clung to its sharp fangs.
The beast bore several gunshot wounds, its body riddled with dark holes. However, the attacks only enraged it further. Its feral eyes glowed with an eerie green light.
“The C-rank mutant wolfdog! Aim for its head! Keep firing!”
While the guards engaged the mutant wolfdog, Wen Xin seized the opportunity. He silenced a trainer with a hand over his mask and stealthily dragged him away.
“Ah!”
The trainer landed heavily against a wall. Dazed and panicked, he looked up only to find a blade pressed against his throat.
“What… what are you doing?!”
Wen Xin’s voice was cold and clipped. “What’s with the drugs used to control mutants?”
The trainer’s face flickered with unease. Suspecting Wen Xin was fishing for information, he feigned ignorance. “Drugs? I don’t know what you’re talking about… Aaaagh!”
Wen Xin dislocated the man’s arm with a swift motion, his expression unchanging. “Still don’t understand?”
Blubbering, the trainer snottily protested, his mask now thoroughly defiled. “I understand! I understand!”
Without further prompting, he spilled everything about the drugs—their origin, purpose, and usage.
The low-tier conditioning drugs came from a subsidiary research institute of Desire Market. They worked by breaking the mutants’ minds with concoctions designed to suppress their instincts. Combined with traditional animal training methods, they achieved control over the creatures.
Ultimately, mutants were still animals at their core, shaped by beastly genes. Humanity’s approach to taming beasts had always involved shock collars, whips, starvation, and confinement.
Mutants had stronger wills than ordinary animals, but if their will was destroyed, control was inevitable.
Under the influence of these drugs, even the strongest-willed general would succumb to madness—let alone animals with underdeveloped intelligence.
Hearing this, Wen Xin’s companions reacted with mixed expressions.
The trainer, trembling, felt an indescribable terror as if death’s grip had closed around his throat. He stared fearfully at the group.
Wen Xin’s face was partially obscured by the dim light, making his expression unreadable.
“Who first proposed training mutants?”
“I—I don’t know much,” the trainer stammered, nearly in tears. “I think it started in the northern region. They could actually communicate with mutants there. But in the south, we don’t have mutants like that!”
Suddenly, as if remembering something, he added hastily, “Actually, we do! I heard about a purple squirrel at the armory—a friendly one that even helped people. Desire Market sent a team specifically to investigate it, but the squirrel suddenly went berserk during the talks and killed many people!”
Wen Xin’s suspicions were confirmed.
A heavy, indescribable pain pressed on him. He couldn’t begin to imagine what Ah Zi had endured.
The mutant rat perched on the trainer’s shoulder remained blank and lifeless, showing no reaction even as its handler was threatened. It only reacted to Wen Xin’s companions approaching, its body trembling with primal fear etched into its genes.
The trainer, noticing the lively expressions of Wen Xin’s companions, finally realized something was amiss. Unlike them, this youth didn’t rely on the destructive methods they used to tame mutants.
He hurriedly attempted to justify himself, “You see, mutants are inherently violent. Their hostility toward humans is an unchangeable fact. So, using extreme methods to subdue them is entirely justif—”
Bang.
The sound of a gunshot cut him off, and a dark, bloody hole appeared in the trainer’s forehead.
The mutant rat leaped reflexively to the ground the moment the corpse hit the floor. It glanced around in confusion before scurrying away in panic, driven by instinct.
Wen Xin didn’t look back.
Gripping the overheated barrel of his gun, he thought grimly: if humanity in the southern regions has always treated mutants this way, it’s no wonder the blue whales sought to drown the land with tsunamis.
“We need to find Ah Zi quickly,” he reminded himself, then turned to the group. “Can any of you sense Ah Zi’s location?”
The area was saturated with an overpowering floral scent. San San, the red panda, covered its nose and shook its head, looking troubled.
Ah Lü and the little walrus couldn’t detect any trace of the purple squirrel either, their puzzlement growing.
“We could try calling out to it,” Ah Lü suggested. “But if Ah Zi’s mind isn’t clear, it could backfire.”
Under normal circumstances, a lower-tier mutant would be unable to resist an S-class summoning and would instinctively avoid an S-class presence. However, if the mutant was in a frenzied state, the risk of provocation was high.
“No,” Wen Xin decided firmly. “We’ll search the factory one building at a time.”
Even if it took longer, he wouldn’t risk further agitating Ah Zi.
With that, the group began their meticulous search of the surrounding factories.
Meanwhile, on the other side, the security personnel had suffered heavily from repeated mutant attacks. Almost all were wounded and out of breath. Only one trainer remained, clutching a guard’s leg as he wailed in terror.
“Sir, I’ll confess! I don’t know how to tame mutants at all! We rely on a special drug. It can’t understand complex commands, and I don’t know how to find the pollution source. Please, just let me go!”
The guards exchanged looks of incredulity.
To everyone’s shock, the squad leader raised his gun and shot the trainer point-blank.
The trainer’s eyes widened in disbelief as he crumpled to the ground. In his final moments, he heard a chilling voice:
“If that’s the case, you’re useless to us.”
As the trainer’s lifeless body slumped, the guards exchanged tense glances.
“Two trainers disappeared earlier. Where did they go?”
“Could the mutants have taken them?”
“But there weren’t any screams.”
The captain’s expression darkened as a realization struck him. “No way… Damn it. Move out, now!”
Wen Xin and his companions reached the central area, where they spotted a still-operational factory. Smoke poured from its chimneys, so thick it blurred even the ever-present red mist.
Clang, clang, clang…
The sound of hammers striking steel echoed from within.
