The scene was truly terrifying. The female employees who were on good terms with Zhou Yi were so frightened they didn’t even dare to cry, clinging to each other just to keep from collapsing to the floor. Even the tall, burly security guards who had come along with the female employees staggered back a few steps in fright, and only stayed rooted in place out of a sense of duty, not daring to flee.
For a moment, the inspection warehouse was deathly silent, with only Zhou Yi’s shrill, ghostly screams echoing through the space.
Fortunately, the torment didn’t last long. The support personnel who received the notification soon arrived at the scene.
Zhou Xuan and Han Zhi entered side by side, with Cheng Jianning trailing behind like a rookie, following closely at their heels. Behind them were medical staff from the Health Center and people from the Special Operations Bureau.
The group was led in by Director Fang.
As soon as Director Fang entered, his view was blocked and he didn’t notice the protective barrier at the workstation. He only saw a crowd of people huddled together, none of them reacting at all. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he asked, “Where’s Zhou Yi? Someone come and explain the situation to the police officers—what exactly happened?”
But everyone else was too stunned with fear, and for a while, no one responded to him.
In the end, Song Nanxing stepped forward. When he saw the three familiar faces, they all froze for a moment. But clearly, this was not the time to catch up. Song Nanxing nodded to them and briefly explained what had happened: “I trapped Zhou Yi inside the protective barrier, but her condition…” Song Nanxing paused, “might not be good.”
Zhou Xuan and Han Zhi led their people forward. When they saw Zhou Yi’s condition, both of their brows furrowed.
With her head smashed up like that, there was little hope of saving her. For a moment, everyone’s expressions grew heavy.
“Cheng Jianning, I’ll open the barrier. Assist me. If anything goes wrong, restrain her immediately,” Zhou Xuan instructed.
Cheng Jianning nodded solemnly, a data cable hidden under his clothes extending outward, following Zhou Xuan’s side.
Zhou Xuan stepped forward to examine Zhou Yi’s condition.
Zhou Yi was already extremely weak. Her body had slid down along the inside of the barrier, with only her face pressed stubbornly against the transparent shield, bulging eyes fixed on the crowd.
Thick, grotesque blue veins bulged from her pale skin, pulsing slowly. From the depression in her head, it was clear something was wriggling inside the exposed vessels.
“Cheng Jianning, be ready.”
Zhou Xuan’s hand was already on the control button for the protective barrier.
Cheng Jianning’s data cable fully extended, waving around the barrier.
Everyone instinctively held their breath. Only Song Nanxing glanced at Zhou Yi’s vacant gaze, his brow furrowing in confusion.
He couldn’t say why, but he felt an intense sense of threat. Yet Zhou Yi was already so weak she couldn’t stand, and though her appearance was terrifying, logically she should pose no danger.
Faint, subtle noises sounded nearby, like a pipe about to burst under pressure.
Song Nanxing’s gaze swept repeatedly over Zhou Yi, and when he saw those pulsing blue veins, he suddenly realized something: “Zhou Xuan, wait!”
Zhou Xuan paused, turning to look at him. “What’s wrong?”
At that moment, a series of popping sounds erupted by Song Nanxing’s ear.
Inside the barrier, Zhou Yi’s blank eyes lifted. The thick blue veins on her body burst one after another like water pipes giving way under pressure—first her limbs, then her torso, finally spreading to her neck and head.
Her entire body seemed to be crushed by immense pressure. Within just a few seconds, she exploded, flesh and blood splattering against the inside of the barrier. Even Cheng Jianning was startled into taking a step back.
Bright red blood slid down the inner wall of the barrier, and faintly, tadpoles with four limbs could be seen crawling inside.
Everyone gasped.
Zhou Xuan’s face grew even grimmer. If Song Nanxing hadn’t stopped him, and he’d opened the barrier in time, Zhou Yi’s sudden self-destruction could have affected everyone present.
The tadpoles crawling densely inside the barrier were clearly full of vitality. Other than himself and Cheng Jianning, everyone else here was an ordinary person with no means of resistance.
Zhou Xuan took a deep breath and instructed Han Zhi to evacuate the others, while he and Cheng Jianning stayed behind to deal with the tadpoles inside the barrier.
Song Nanxing followed the group out. Han Zhi left Guan Jing behind to question her about Zhou Yi’s condition before she showed signs of contamination.
Guan Jing had calmed down a bit, but still choked as she spoke: “I don’t know, I really don’t know. We were all fine at lunch, but in the afternoon, suddenly…” As she spoke, the memory of Zhou Yi’s gruesome death made her tremble.
Just then, the team member who had gone to check the warehouse surveillance returned, looking grim as he reported to Han Zhi: “The cameras covering Zhou Yi’s workstation are out of order.”
Han Zhi’s jaw tightened as he ground his molars. “How convenient.”
The team member also found it odd. “All the other surveillance areas are fine. Only that section’s cameras have been broken for a long time and never repaired.”
Song Nanxing, listening nearby, suddenly looked up and said:
“I have a suspicion.”
“I suspect there’s a problem with the ink used in the fresh food section.”
Han Zhi looked at Song Nanxing. “Ink?”
Song Nanxing nodded. “The ink smells off, and I didn’t have a good feeling about it. But I tested it with an instrument during my shift this afternoon and didn’t detect any contaminants. Maybe you can check it again.”
Zhou Yi’s incident had happened so suddenly that Song Nanxing’s suspicion hadn’t had time to be verified with concrete evidence.
But the conveniently broken surveillance cameras provided some circumstantial proof.
The entire process of the aquatic products contamination at the Exchange Center might really not be an accident, but a deliberate scheme.
Han Zhi immediately had someone collect the ink from Song Nanxing’s workstation and send it for analysis.
It would take time to get the results. Han Zhi had Guan Jing sent back to rest, then led his people to the monitoring room to review other footage, hoping to find more clues.
Work in the fresh food section was suspended. With nowhere to go, Song Nanxing prepared to return to his dormitory.
At that moment, Cheng Jianning hurried up behind him and slapped his shoulder. “Song Nanxing!”
Song Nanxing turned to see Zhou Xuan had also come out. “All taken care of?”
Cheng Jianning nodded, still a little pale, rubbing his arms. “That was so terrifying just now, I barely managed not to scream.”
His nerves clearly hadn’t recovered. The data cable he hadn’t yet retracted was flailing wildly, tangling itself into a knot—a sharp contrast to his words.
Song Nanxing’s somber expression softened a little. “Looks like you’re adapting well to the Containment Center.”
Cheng Jianning immediately perked up, proudly waving his data cable. “Zhou Xuan’s taught me a lot. I can control my abilities much better now.”
He chattered on about all the new things he’d learned. “Turns out, not all people like us turn into monsters. Only those who completely lose their minds and fall into depravity do. As long as we don’t abuse our abilities and keep our mental state stable, we can use our powers to help a lot of people. A lot of people online call us ‘Transcendents’—doesn’t that sound cool? Feels like we have a mission to save the world.”
His eyes sparkled when he talked about saving the world.
Song Nanxing vaguely remembered seeing that term online, but he’d never paid much attention and always scrolled past quickly. It was the first time he realized that people like Cheng Jianning were called “Transcendents.”
For some reason, he thought of the “Favored of the Gods” that Chu Yan had mentioned.
Both groups sounded like they were a cut above ordinary people.
Song Nanxing lowered his eyes, keeping his doubts to himself.
Cheng Jianning, meanwhile, couldn’t wait to grab his hand. “Oh, and I just learned a new skill.”
He pulled a bracelet from his pocket and placed it in Song Nanxing’s palm. “I made this spore bracelet just for you!”
Song Nanxing looked at the bracelet in his hand. It was just an ordinary black leather cord, but there was a tiny glass bead in the center, inside which a small glowing dot swam.
Cheng Jianning explained, “This is my data spore. If you wear it and ever run into danger, just tap it three times. I’ll get your distress signal and come to rescue you.”
“Thank you.” Song Nanxing didn’t refuse his kindness. He put the bracelet on, looked at Cheng Jianning’s bright expression, and said, “You’re doing well now.”
If Grandma Cheng were watching from above, seeing him walk out of the shadows, she could finally rest easy.
Cheng Jianning scratched his head, a little dazed. “Captain Chu arranged a few counseling sessions for me. I’m doing much better now. Captain Chu said that once I pass the third test, I won’t have to wear the tranquilizer band anymore.”
As they were talking, Han Zhi strode over with a printed report, his expression grave as he addressed Song Nanxing: “The ink’s analysis is back. It contains active frog egg particles. They can grow from minuscule granules into full frog eggs and autonomously seek out hosts to parasitize. Before they mature, they’re almost undetectable as contaminants. The lab estimates the incubation period is about five to ten days, but it’ll take more time for precise verification.”
He handed the report to Zhou Xuan. “Take a look. A sample’s also been sent to the Containment Center. Based on the database, they suspect these frog eggs come from Specimen No. 131—Agusa.”
Zhou Xuan’s brows twitched. “Agusa?”
Song Nanxing and Cheng Jianning listened in confusion. Cheng Jianning was the first to raise his hand. “What’s Specimen No. 131—Agusa?” “It’s a monster once observed in the Mist Zone, numbered 131. It’s huge, resembles a toad, and is man-eating. It likes to squat by water sources to lay eggs. Its eggs can hide in water, are autonomous, and actively seek out hosts to parasitize. If the host is a non-sapient creature, the eggs release a fragrance to attract sapient beings to eat the host. The frog eggs then hatch inside the new host, replacing the original intelligence and becoming servants of No. 131.”