Chapter 11

For the first time, An Zhe witnessed Lu Feng smile, though their meeting was brief—though the smile was barely discernible.

Yet, within this subtle trace of amusement, An Zhe perceived an intention, as if the judicator somewhat sought after him today.

Upon the smile's fleeting disappearance, Lu Feng returned to his expressionless state, his slender, fair fingers playfully maneuvering a dark gun—a gesture fraught with danger.

An Zhe tentatively asked, "May I leave now?"

With a blank face, Lu Feng inquired, "What are you doing here?"

An Zhe truthfully replied, "I'm working here."

Lu Feng queried, "On the first or second floor?"

An Zhe hesitated, "...The third floor."

Lu Feng simply acknowledged, "Oh."

Then, another prolonged silence ensued until it was broken by the ceaseless scribbling of a younger judge. Shortly after, Lu Feng declared, "Linguistic interrogation reveals no anomalies. Auxiliary judgment: the subject is human."

An Zhe then saw Lu Feng glance briefly towards the young judicator—not exactly in a commendatory manner.

Once again, he asked, "May I—"

"You may leave."

"Thank you." An Zhe quickly turned around, heading back inside to sit down at a shop selling potato soup, craving genuinely for it today.

The residential district offered potato soup at 0.3 units, whereas here it was priced at 1 unit, a stark difference underlined by thrice the richness. Besides nearly completely dissolved potatoes, the soup was enhanced with a bit of minced meat, maybe even milk, the sweet aroma of protein wafting through the air.

Taking a white spoon in hand, An Zhe scooped some, blew away the steam, and then sipped it at the edge of his mouth, reveling in satisfaction—if only without the judicator's silhouette in his peripheral vision.

An Zhe ate slowly, but fervently and quietly, without making any noise. About twenty minutes later, after finishing his meal, he composed himself, preparing to walk past the esteemed Judicator to leave.

As he turned toward the door, a piercing beep sounded—Lu Feng pressed on his communicator.

As An Zhe passed by him, he only heard two words from Lu Feng's end.

"Waste."

Startled, An Zhe quickened his pace out of the black market's entrance.

At the moment, it was evening, and the sun had already set, a stretch of greyish-blue sea covering the western sky as the winds began to chill. In two hours, the base would undergo a power cut. The supply station across from the black market was also closing, steadily releasing people.

A supply station, a black market, and a train station—these three structures formed a triangle surrounding an expansive plaza, currently swarming like a colony of ants migrating towards the train platform.

The trains ran from six in the morning until eight at night, arriving punctually every hour.

As the time on the schedule approached, a low rumble grew from the distance and magnified. Following a brief, intense vibration, the train, resembling a silver serpent, halted on the tracks, its doors sliding open across its numerous carriages to let off some passengers returning to their residential areas from other parts of the city or the wilderness.

Suddenly, a gentle mechanical female voice broadcasted through the station, "Dear passengers, due to an equipment malfunction, please disembark and await further instructions. Those awaiting boarding, please refrain from embarking and disperse for the time being."

"Dear passengers, due to an equipment malfunction, please immediately disembark and disperse."

As the machine's directive repeated, the initial bewilderment transitioned into orderly movements among the listeners, yet some instantly panicked, pulling their companions up from their seats to flee towards the perimeters. Their actions infected others, spreading panic throughout the station within minutes, propelling individuals towards the plaza's confines.

Caught amid the escalating commotion while awaiting boarding, An Zhe found himself in the midst of chaos, unaware of its cause but knowing the rule of human communal life—he turned around, deciding to follow the crowd outward.

But amidst the jostling crowd, he staggered as someone bumped into him from behind. The sound of high heels clicked, and a familiar scent followed. It was Dusei, the matron of the third level underground. Their eyes met, Dusei recognized him, and without a word, fiercely grabbed his wrist, dragging him swiftly outward.

Across the plaza, the sounds of falls and screams from being trampled blended into one. Dusei, as if having braved such escapes countless times before, led him through the masses, reaching the front with the fastest runners—their progress suddenly halted.

Arrayed neatly at the plaza's edge were a series of black armored vehicles parked at intervals, each marked by a silver shield emblem. An Zhe recognized this from the base's manual as the symbol of the City Defense Outpost. Soldiers, ready with their arms, disembarked to seal off all exits.

Undecided about the unfolding events, An Zhe struggled to catch his breath after the rush; Dusei, beside him, hunched over, gasping and coughing violently.

Patting her shoulder, after a short wait, she seemed to somewhat recover, her gaze fixating on the chaotic plaza, "A mutant has mixed in."

After taking a breath, she continued, "There must be a mutant on the train. Combing through takes too long. By the time a mutant acts up, it's too late to neutralize them promptly—one death could mean entire carriages lost. It's better to disperse for easier inspection."

"It's been a long time since such an incident." She remarked, "Didn't the adjudicator notice?"

"He's on patrol today," stated An Zhe.

Moreover, he recalls hearing Lu Feng receiving a communication, coldly cursing "waste". Reflecting now, it likely pertained to news of a mutant infiltrating the base.

At that moment, An Zhe felt her gripping hand tremble slightly.

"Is he here?"

An Zhe murmured affirmatively.

As if to confirm his words, the next moment, a muffled "bang" erupted, lighting up the dusk with a brilliant trail of magnesium flare. This beam, originating from high above, plummeted downward like a striking bolt of lightning, cleaving the evening sky in an instant, landing squarely on the shoulder of a figure not far from An Zhe and Dusei.

An Zhe swiftly turned to the source of the flare, spotting atop the greyish-white structure of the black market, the figure of Lu Feng in his black uniform. He was slowly lowering his right hand, which held the black weapon, while passing a pair of binoculars to the young adjudicator beside him with his left hand.

"Magnesium flare has marked the location!" the next moment, a terse command echoed from near the City Defense Forces: "Prepare!"

As the command settled, an ear-piercing shriek erupted from a nearby armored vehicle, propelling a screeching alarm across the plaza. A smoky incendiary grenade, ensconced in thick smoke, was launched towards the location indicated by the magnesium flare.

—All these events unfolded in the blink of an eye.

A pungent odor of burning filled the air. Among the crowd, a figure collapsed heavily, smoke ominously rising from his body amidst a horrifying scream that momentarily dominated the plaza.

An Zhe felt Dusei's grip tighten.

"That person was sitting behind me," she said.

"But he didn't attack anyone, I'm fine." She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief: "White phosphorous grenade...he won't survive."

She looked up towards the top of the black market building.

Lu Feng's silhouette had vanished from the rooftop, yet she continued staring in that direction intently. An Zhe observed her, the normally captivating and poised visage of Madame Dusei revealed an unusual serenity at that moment.

Around them, the scream gradually subsided, and the space vacated by the receding crowd showcased the charred, contorted form, no longer twitching or struggling, motionless. The rest of the crowd seemed to exhale collectively, although the City Defense Forces' blockade remained as tight as ever.

"Five years ago, the Colonel saved me once," An Zhe suddenly heard Dusei say, "at the city gate, quite similar to now."

He remained silent, absorbing the slowly stabilizing atmosphere. That day at the city gate, he understood why some despised Lu Feng vehemently. Today, he grasped why others did not.

Three minutes later, City Defense soldiers forcefully cleared a path through the crowd, allowing Lu Feng and his team a swift approach to the four bodies. Due to their location, An Zhe and Dusei were quite close to the scene.

Donning pristine white gloves, Lu Feng knelt on one knee, parting the central human corpse, and tersely requested, "Knife."

—The young adjudicator promptly handed over a gleaming sharp knife.

Subsequently, Lu Feng, with an expressionless face, slit open the corpse's abdomen. The charred body emitted a foul odor, yet opened, its interior revealed not human organs, but countless small, dense, amber-hued, semi-transparent entities, wriggling minutely.

An Zhe strained to see, noting they resembled insect larvae—spider-like creatures, still minutely moving.

He saw Lu Feng's brow furrow as the officer sliced open the entire digestive tract and throat.

—Similar entities continued to spill out.

"Parasitic class, high potential for dissemination." Lu Feng rose, discarding the gloves onto the body before receiving a new pair from the adjudicator.

He ordered, "Full inspection."

Dusei suddenly collapsed, her body going limp as she fell forward.

An Zhe desperately attempted to support her, but her motion was too abrupt, catching Lu Feng's attention.

Lu Feng's gaze settled on her cheek; An Zhe followed his gaze—amidst the chaos, he hadn't scrutinized her face closely, but now, upon closer inspection—on her forehead, a small blister-like entity shimmered, containing minutely wriggling contents within.

"I..." Perhaps sensing something, Dusei slowly reached towards it, trembling. Locked in gaze with Lu Feng, tears streaming down her face, she stepped towards him.

In An Zhe's life among humans, it was the first time he witnessed such an expression on someone. He couldn't discern whether Dusei's look conveyed love, hatred, or predominately despair.

A gun fired.

She fell forwards, An Zhe unable to catch her. The dull thud that followed marked the human form crashing to the ground.

At that moment, An Zhe found himself mere steps from Lu Feng, their gazes locking.

Those cold, green eyes seemed devoid of anything—

Lu Feng suddenly extended his hand towards him.

An Zhe flinched.

However, the adjudicator didn't aim to pull the trigger; it wasn't the hand that held the gun. His fingers touched An Zhe's cheek, momentarily pausing. An Zhe remembered the moment Dusei fell; some of her blood had splattered on his face, initially warm, quickly turning cold.

The cold fluid was wiped away, the crimson spreading across the white gloves, the warmth briefly lingering on his cheek.

An Zhe closed his eyes.