Chapter 39
What transpired in the greenhouse remained unknown to Gu Qingchen and Zhuang Shisong, who were riding in the work vehicle. Su Ci, though faintly aware of the situation, didn’t pay much attention to it.
When he prevented the fledgling spirit plant from overgrowing earlier, he had also granted the little sprout a blessing of the Earth Spirit.
For a considerable time, this small spirit plant would no longer suffer from diseases. As long as it received adequate nutrition, it would safely mature through its seedling stage.
As a spirit plant, no matter how intense its scent, it wouldn’t release any toxins. It wouldn’t harm anyone, and a little tantrum might even earn it more attention from the human race.
Crying babies get the milk—this was a consistent trait among humans.
Thinking along those lines, Su Ci glanced at the quiet and obedient A-Yan, who never made a fuss. A peculiar expression flitted across his face.
The greenhouse containing the diseased plants was nearby.
It wasn’t long before they arrived. Zhuang Shisong asked Su Ci to wait in the vehicle while he and Gu Qingchen handled the task, promising to return soon and drop them off at the gate of the plantation.
Su Ci had no objections.
Once the two entered the greenhouse, Su Ci retrieved a bag of chips from his spatial button. He tore it open, and without even lifting a finger, the chips floated out of the bag, one by one, heading straight to his mouth.
Crunch. Crunch.
Piece by piece, he chewed through the chips, satisfying his growing hunger.
Even though he had only used the Earth Spirit’s blessing earlier, Su Ci was already in a half-fed state. Exerting even the slightest effort brought his hunger roaring back.
The delicious aroma of the chips wafted through the air. Thankfully, the open-top work vehicle allowed the breeze to carry the smell away.
Seated beside him, A-Yan caught a whiff of the scent and couldn’t help but swallow a little. Still, despite his craving, he remained quiet and still, keeping his hands to himself.
He lowered his head, focusing on his little cub shoes.
Yesterday’s rain had left red marks on the once pristine shoes. Though it was unavoidable, A-Yan felt saddened by the blemishes.
When they returned, he decided he would find a way to clean off the stains. These cub shoes were a gift from the caretaker, his only pair, and he wanted to cherish them properly.
Su Ci, munching on his chips, happened to glance at A-Yan.
Noticing the child with his head bowed, Su Ci was reminded of Number Eight in the nursery, gazing at him longingly while he snacked on chips.
Does A-Yan not like chips?
Hmm, if not, that’s fine.
Satisfied with his reasoning, Su Ci crunched on a few more pieces. But as he ate, he became aware of the little spirit plant still exuding its sorrowful, angry emotions from afar.
If the garlic sprout was a crying baby, then A-Yan… was probably the good, obedient child—the kind so easy to overlook.
Once again, Su Ci’s gaze settled on A-Yan.
The boy still had his head lowered, genuinely appearing uninterested.
Su Ci glanced at the bag of chips in his hand, a flicker of hesitation crossing his eyes. Finally, he lifted his hand.
The bowed-headed A-Yan suddenly saw a bag of chips appear before him. The opened packet exuded a tantalizing spicy aroma.
He couldn’t help but swallow a little. Then, turning his head, he looked at Su Ci.
The youth leaned lazily against the car window, one hand propping up his chin, the other holding the bag of chips. When A-Yan looked over, Su Ci gave the bag a light shake with his wrist, wordlessly inviting him to take some.
His demeanor was so nonchalant, the act of sharing seemed almost incidental.
A-Yan stared at him for a moment, ensuring he hadn’t misunderstood the gesture. Finally, he obediently reached into the bag, pinching out a single, perfectly intact chip.
Crunch.
As Su Ci contentedly pulled back the bag, he noticed the child carefully breaking the chip into two pieces.
Su Ci’s eyes flicked upward instinctively. He saw A-Yan leaning forward from his small frame, stretching out his little hand to offer the visibly larger half of the chip to Su Ci’s lips.
Usually calm and composed, Su Ci found himself momentarily stunned by this gesture.
A-Yan held the chip delicately against Su Ci’s soft, red lips. When Su Ci didn’t immediately eat, A-Yan opened his own mouth wide, making an exaggerated “Ahhh” sound to demonstrate what he wanted him to do.
His black-red eyes sparkled like they could talk, brimming with pure sincerity. Su Ci could sense the heartfelt intent in them.
This child…
Su Ci gazed at him, and for some inexplicable reason, he felt a deeply hidden corner of his heart being lightly touched.
After a brief hesitation, he parted his lips and accepted the chip the boy offered, rolling it onto his tongue to savor it.
Crispy, flavorful… but with a peculiar, unidentifiable sweetness to it.
Seeing the caretaker eat, A-Yan beamed happily. He pulled his hand back, carefully popping the remaining tiny fragment of the chip into his own mouth.
So good!
The boy’s face lit up with delight, his feet dangling off the edge of the seat swinging joyfully.
Su Ci studied him. Watching the boy’s excitement over eating such a small piece of chip, he realized that A-Yan did, in fact, enjoy chips. So, he offered the bag to the child once more.
A-Yan blinked, looking up at Su Ci.
Can I really keep going?
At Su Ci’s nod, A-Yan cheerfully reached for another chip. This time, however, he didn’t break it apart. Instead, he held it up directly to Su Ci’s lips, pressing it lightly against the glossy surface dusted with seasoning powder.
A-Yan’s unexpected action left Su Ci momentarily at a loss.
I meant for you to keep eating, not to keep feeding me…
He rarely exhibited such generosity, after all.
But staring into A-Yan’s clear, bright eyes, filled with hopeful expectation, Su Ci opened his mouth once again, biting down on the chip.
From then on, A-Yan hugged the bag to his chest and happily continued feeding Su Ci chip after chip.
More than eating the chips himself, A-Yan found far greater joy in feeding the caretaker.
He realized that Su Ci looked especially captivating while eating. The youth’s serene black eyes would glimmer faintly, and his vibrant red lips would curve into the softest smile.
Even better, feeding him allowed A-Yan to be very, very close. So close that he could clearly see the fine, soft hairs on Su Ci’s smooth face.
A-Yan thought the caretaker looked exceptionally beautiful like this. It made him want to keep staring forever…
But, unfortunately, such wishes were impossible to fulfill.
Voices drifted over from the direction of the greenhouse—it was Gu Qingchen and Zhuang Shisong, packing up their things in preparation to leave.
A-Yan pouted slightly. Though reluctant, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a cloth, and carefully wiped his fingers clean. Only then did he hand the half-finished bag of chips back to Su Ci, signaling for him to store it in his spatial device.
Su Ci looked at him but didn’t take the bag.
He gazed at the small A-Yan, a fleeting thought crossing his mind. Before he could restrain himself, he acted on impulse.
Following his instincts, Su Ci reached into his work uniform pocket and fished out two spatial buttons. He gently pulled A-Yan’s freshly cleaned hand closer and placed one of the buttons into his palm.
“Do you know how to use this?”
A-Yan blinked, confused. He stared at the “button” in his hand, recognizing it as a spatial device used to store items. But he…
He was just about to shake his head when, in the next moment, an expansive space appeared before his eyes. The bag of chips in his hand had also been placed neatly in the corner of that space.
A-Yan froze momentarily, though he didn’t appear startled. Instead, he instinctively sensed the caretaker’s presence within this unfamiliar void.
More precisely, it was Su Ci’s spiritual essence—what the interstellar civilization referred to as mental energy.
Su Ci’s mental energy guided A-Yan, allowing him to observe the space within the button. Their mental energies briefly intertwined, and in that fleeting moment, A-Yan felt an overwhelming vastness akin to the cosmos itself.
By comparison, his own presence seemed minuscule, almost insignificant.
The next second, Su Ci gently guided him out of the spatial device.
“Practice well,” Su Ci’s soft voice murmured beside his ear.
A-Yan clutched the button tightly. To his small hands, it felt overly large, too much for his fingers to fully grasp.
He tilted his head up to look at Su Ci. Though they were physically so close, an inexplicable feeling arose in A-Yan’s heart: a sense of being worlds apart. This sparked an urgent desire within him, one that demanded he grow up quickly and become much stronger.
Su Ci quietly observed the child’s expression, his thoughts unspoken.
When he briefly touched A-Yan’s spiritual essence, he, too, had been surprised.
Though weak, A-Yan’s mental energy was incredibly resilient—like it had endured countless trials of tempering and refinement.
Such traits and natural gifts pointed to an extraordinary future for the child.
Su Ci’s curiosity deepened. He couldn’t help but wonder: What kind of force could have given birth to a spirit like A-Yan’s?
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
At that moment, Zhuang Shisong’s voice interrupted Su Ci’s train of thought.
The young man opened the car door, gave Su Ci an apologetic smile, and then climbed into the driver’s seat.
Gu Qingchen followed right after, but his expression was not good. He turned to Su Ci and said, “We need to hurry back to the Medical Purification Department. Number Two is acting up again.”
“What happened to Number Two?” Su Ci asked.
“Not entirely sure.”
Gu Qingchen shook his head, having just received the message. “We’ll find out more once we get back. In any case, we need to return immediately.”
Although, if Number Two truly went berserk again, Su Ci and Gu Qingchen alone probably wouldn’t be much help with their limited combat ability.
“The guards can still handle the situation for now. If things escalate, we’ll need to call in the Operations Team.”
After Number Two fainted yesterday, the animalistic features on his face gradually receded, leaving only his ears and tail.
Gu Qingchen had checked on him before leaving and confirmed his vitals had returned to normal, prompting him to notify Su Ci to pick him up.
Who would have thought there’d be more trouble after he woke up… Thinking about the two medical pods destroyed by Number Two and Number Four last time made Gu Qingchen’s heart ache. He could only hope that no major damages would occur this time.
Seeing Gu Qingchen’s troubled expression, Su Ci decided not to press further.
The work vehicle from the plantation sped along, and soon, Zhuang Shisong dropped Su Ci and Gu Qingchen off at the plantation entrance.
“That’s as far as I’ll go. You two should hurry back.”
Zhuang Shisong, still worried about the seedlings in the greenhouse, bid them a quick farewell and drove off without delay after dropping them at the teleportation platform.
Gu Qingchen got out and stepped onto the platform immediately.
The teleportation pad could accommodate three to four people at once, so Su Ci didn’t need to spend extra points. He stepped onto the pad with Gu Qingchen, holding A-Yan in one hand. The little one clung tightly to Su Ci’s fingers, avoiding contact with Gu Qingchen.
[Teleportation Destination: Medical Purification Department]
[Teleportation in Progress]
[Teleportation Successful]
Fortunately, the process went smoothly. In a blink, Gu Qingchen and Su Ci materialized outside the Medical Purification Department’s main building, with A-Yan safely in tow.
Gu Qingchen was the first to step off the teleportation pad. Before he could enter the building, a guard was thrown out—a skilled one at that, who, despite the awkward landing, managed to steady himself.
Gu Qingchen noticed the guard’s bruised and battered appearance and rushed to his side.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Seeing Gu Qingchen, the guard quickly shook his head. “I’m fine, Dr. Gu, but it’s dangerous inside. You should stay here.”
Gu Qingchen was the only purifier in Base 24. Anyone else could get injured, but not him—that was an iron rule of the security team.
As they spoke, more sounds of fighting erupted from inside the building. It was clear that a fierce battle was underway.
Gu Qingchen felt a chill of unease.
Before Gu Qingchen could say anything, he caught a glimpse of a figure walking past him out of the corner of his eye. Su Ci was striding straight into the building, unperturbed. Alarmed, Gu Qingchen shouted, “Keeper Su, wait! Let’s call the Operations Team to handle this first!”
Gu Qingchen was realistic about their capabilities. If the guards were already struggling, charging in themselves would likely only add to the chaos—and earn them a beating for their trouble.
But Su Ci didn’t stop. Without breaking stride, he gave Gu Qingchen a reassuring thumbs-up, as if to placate him.
The young man then strode confidently into the noisy building, showing no sign of fear.
From behind, Gu Qingchen watched Su Ci’s retreating figure, recalling the infamous video circulating around the base and Su Ci’s composed demeanor during the plant mutations at the plantation. A thought crossed his mind—could this keeper…
…have some kind of emotional cognition disorder? Is that why he doesn’t know what fear is?
Meanwhile, Su Ci stepped into the lobby.
There, a red-haired boy of about ten was being pinned to the floor by a group of guards. One of them had a hand pressed against the boy’s head, attempting to force one cheek down onto the ground.
Yet, the boy stubbornly kept his head lifted, straining against the pressure with all his might. His face was flushed red, and the veins on his neck stood out in sharp relief.
He growled angrily, his expression ferocious, and a pair of sharp tiger fangs were faintly visible.
“Let me go!” he roared, his youthful voice edged with raw fury. “Do you want to die?”
Though restrained, the long tiger tail behind him lashed about like a whip, striking the floor with enough force to dent the metal plating.
If that tail struck a human body, it would surely break ribs.
Fortunately, each time the tail slammed into the guards, a transparent shield shimmered over the impacted areas of their protective gear. It was clear they were equipped with defensive equipment.
However, anyone could see that this gear wasn’t fully absorbing the impact. Each strike elicited a flicker of pain on the guards’ faces.
They were merely holding on through sheer determination. Without additional measures, it seemed likely that they would lose this battle of endurance.
Around this chaotic scene stood two or three medical staff. One of them held a syringe, presumably prepared to administer a sedative to Number Two.
However, the constantly thrashing tiger tail kept him from finding an opening to approach. His trembling hands only added to the difficulty, making the chance of a successful injection seem slim even if he did find an opportunity.
Su Ci scanned the scene and then calmly walked over to the medical staff member.
“I’ll do it,” he said, holding out his hand.
The medical worker, who had been anxiously observing the struggle, froze in surprise at the words.
Turning his head, he saw Su Ci’s elegant, fair face. Then, his eyes dropped to the young man’s hand—slender, pale, and delicate, like a piece of fine art. Instinctively, he wanted to refuse.
Before he could voice his refusal, the medical worker noticed the uniform the young man was wearing and finally put two and two together.
“Oh, you’re the new trainee caretaker?”
Su Ci nodded and took the translucent white syringe from the man’s hand, examining it briefly.
The medical worker, who had reluctantly let go due to Su Ci’s recent reputation and overly calm demeanor, now couldn’t help but look doubtful as he observed Su Ci’s grip on the syringe.
“Do you even know how to give an injection?”
Why did it look like he was holding a syringe for the first time—or maybe even seeing one for the first time?
“I’ll give it a try.”
Without further explanation, Su Ci grasped the syringe and walked straight toward Number Two, who was still being restrained by the guards.
His steps were so steady, his voice so composed, and his presence so calm that it exuded an unshakable confidence. Even those who doubted his abilities were compelled to stop and reconsider.
Perhaps this keeper had undergone related training before starting the job? Many keepers did hold medical certifications.
Maybe his casual “I’ll try” was just a show of humility? Otherwise, who would charge in so recklessly in a situation like this?
The guards, noticing Su Ci’s approach, straightened with renewed energy.
If the sedative could be administered successfully, they might finally be able to subdue this little monster!
Reinvigorated, the exhausted guards pushed themselves to pin down the nearly escaped Number Two once more.
Number Two gritted his teeth as he noticed the syringe getting closer. His sharp senses had already picked up on the faint scent of the sedative.
No!
He didn’t want to be reduced to a lifeless dog again, completely at their mercy!
“Roar!”
The enraged boy struggled even harder. The faint echo of a tiger’s roar reverberated through the lobby. And then…
Number Two’s vision was filled with the sight of gleaming black work shoes, polished to a mirror shine, stopping right in front of him.
The boy instinctively looked up and saw an unfamiliar figure in a gray-blue uniform, holding a syringe with a silver needle tip glinting under the light. That familiar yet sickening scent of sedative wafted into his nose.
The person stood against the light, making their face indistinct. However, Number Two could see their slim and delicate frame and feel the complete absence of any oppressive aura.
This was an ordinary human—someone without a trace of beast blood, or at best, with blood so diluted that no talent could awaken.
Number Two’s eyes widened with a glare full of bloodthirsty hatred. He recognized that uniform. Only keepers from the rearing facility wore that color.
So this was the new keeper? And this weakling thought they could subdue him with drugs?
Fury and humiliation burned in his chest. His reddish-brown eyes began to show signs of shifting into beastly pupils.
“Get lost!”
“Roar—!”
The boy’s roar, accompanied by a tiger’s growl, rang out again, instilling fear even in the seasoned guards.
Hurry up already, man!
Their pleading gazes shot toward the trainee keeper holding the syringe. If he hesitated any longer, they wouldn’t be able to hold on!
But to everyone’s astonishment, the keeper slowly crouched down instead of seizing the opening to inject the sedative into Number Two’s body.
Under the stunned gazes of the guards and medical staff, Su Ci looked at the boy, whose face was now sprouting fine fur, and spoke softly.
“Do you want the injection, or do you want to come back with me?”
His voice was soft, but since Number Two had paused his roaring at that moment, everyone heard what Su Ci said.
Everyone couldn’t help but look at Su Ci as if he were a fool.
Did this new trainee keeper seriously think he could pacify a berserk Number Two with just words?
If it were that simple, Number Two wouldn’t be known as the little monster!
Just as the guards were about to lose their patience, itching to free up a hand to snatch the syringe and administer the sedative themselves, something astonishing happened.
Number Two… actually stopped struggling.
His sanity had been teetering on the edge of collapse.
In the depths of his consciousness, a young Crimson Flame Tiger was trapped inside a cage. The surroundings were dark and eerily silent, with blood-red flames licking at the bars, consuming the air with their oppressive heat.
No matter how the young tiger struggled or resisted, it couldn’t escape the inevitable searing pain of being burned and devoured by those flames.
It roared in agony and bit at the bars in fury, yet the cage held firm, unyielding.
As the scarlet flames roared higher, threatening to engulf the helpless cub, a gentle and calm voice echoed through the shadows of his mind—a piercing light breaking through the dark curtain of night.
The flames, ready to consume the tiger, seemed to be doused by a bucket of cold water. They receded from the cage, leaving the cub to transform into a red-haired boy slumped on the ground.
The boy stared blankly upward, his gaze landing on a figure.
That person’s presence seemed to offer him a reprieve, a brief moment of clarity amidst the chaos. The rampaging power of his bloodline began to subside, suppressed by the return of his fleeting lucidity.
His reddish-brown eyes cleared, the beast-like slits shrinking and reverting to normal human pupils.
In the real world, Number Two finally saw the person’s face clearly and registered his words—
An injection, or… come back with me?
Staring at the frail young man crouching before him, with his serene and composed expression, Number Two blinked, dumbfounded.
His reason returned, grounding him in reality.
For the first time, during a bloodline eruption, Number Two neither lost complete control nor required medication to regain consciousness.
He opened his mouth, hesitating, then asked in a dazed voice, “Back… where?”
That suddenly soft, uncertain voice revealed the bewildered confusion of a boy barely older than ten, subdued by a team of guards. Only then did it strike everyone present—he was just a child.
Looking into Number Two’s now tranquil, human eyes and hearing the absence of his previous tiger-like roars, Su Ci’s lips curved slightly. He reined in the soul power subtly infused in his voice.
“To the nursery facility, of course,” he replied softly to the boy’s question.
