Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The next second, the long knife swiftly retracted and disassembled, transforming into various shapes of steel and metal. They rotated, combined, and connected, quickly reconstructing into a menacing grenade launcher.

Human mechanical modification...?

Palmer watched in astonishment, his gaze following the barrel up to rest on a stern profile.

The owner of the face noticed Palmer's gaze, turning towards him with eyes cold as frozen blood, chilling to the bone. The edges of the right eyeball were lined with fine deep red veins spreading across the white, reaching a peak of bizarre eeriness under that gaze.

Yet the next moment, the frost in his eyes melted away, the man smiling warmly and politely at Palmer, quickly scanning him from head to toe—literally scanning, as Palmer clearly saw a transparent square display frame appear in the man's left pupil, with rows of tiny characters flashing across, presumably his body data.

After the scan, the display disappeared, returning to human round pupils.

A smooth, rich voice sounded: "Pleased to meet you, Professor Palmer."

The man let go of him, stood up firmly, and bowed respectfully before raising his left arm to fire a slow grenade at the howling mutant.

This man's appearance was too striking, with silver hair and red eyes, a strong non-human vibe contrasting with his humble tone, like a six-winged angel riding a tricycle collecting scrap electronics, plummeting from the clouds to the ground.

Before his words ended, he leaped high, the grenade launcher morphing back into the sharp long knife, cleaving through the mutant's skull. Palmer, standing too close, was rattled by the sound of his jump.

Under the dim glow of his blade, the giant tumor-like mutant's head split like tofu, separating head from body with a single strike, turning into a pile of putrid flesh. Once sure the mutant was dead, the man straightened his posture like a cedar, flicking the dirt off the blade.

The long knife deconstructed and reformed again, this time into a metallic arm, its parts becoming complex and detailed along the muscle lines, especially around the fingers, eventually forming a complete hand.

He wore a high-collared black tank top that outlined his full pectorals and tight abdomen without reservation. Above black boots, two sturdy and slender legs were encased in combat pants, radiating vitality and explosive power. From the height of his jump just now, Palmer had no doubts that a single kick from this man could break his neck.

The man flexed his fingers quickly, turned around, and saw Professor Palmer still standing in the same spot, meeting his gaze sluggishly before quietly shifting his eyes to his left arm.

“...Sorry.” The man turned his body slightly, and a coating that mimicked healthy wheat-colored skin quickly enveloped his left arm, so realistic that even the veins and the lunulae on his nails were visible, “Does this make you more comfortable?”

It was unnecessary, but Palmer still nodded in acceptance of the man’s kindness.

The man offered a polite smile, his features strikingly handsome, especially his blood-colored eyes, like two dabs of cinnabar in ink, “I'm from the vanguard’s special operations team, sent here for rescue. Please, follow closely. I will take you to meet the others.”

Palmer hummed absentmindedly, trailing behind him step by step.

This was a humble yet powerful mechanical augmentee, gentle and polite in his dealings, a breath of fresh air. Yet, what struck Palmer most was the initial chilling gaze that could freeze one to the core, cold and sharp as a blade, undoubtedly not his imagination.

The silver-haired man was unaware of Palmer's thoughts, diligently clearing the way ahead, his focus entirely on the contaminants that might appear nearby, oblivious to the increasingly intense gaze of the blonde researcher stuck to his back.

Palmer unashamedly observed every muscle that flexed and relaxed with the man’s movements. He didn’t care if this person hid any dark nature; at this moment, only one thought clearly emerged in his mind: he liked this body!

—Your body is fine, and in a few days, it'll be mine.

To avoid the awkward situation of being asked his name after parasitism and not being able to answer, he smartly quickened his pace to walk alongside the man, directly asking, “What’s your name?”

The man didn’t stop walking, but his response was respectful and earnest, “My name is Z1932, Professor Palmer.”

Izzard1932, a tongue-twisting name. Palmer tried pronouncing it twice, then asked, “What about your stage name when you sold yourself?”

Z1932：“……”

In the prolonged silence, Palmer realized he had asked the wrong question.

So, ordinary people indeed do not have what’s called a “stage name for selling themselves.” He noted this and then employed his best tactic for handling misspoken words—expressionless and righteous, meeting Z1932’s doubtful gaze directly, “I mean, do you have any other names? Z1932 sounds more like a code than a name.”

Silence greeted him again, but the man’s expression changed slightly at his words, a hint of surprise flickering in Z1932’s eyes, softening his stern, determined face.

He didn’t make Palmer wait too long. The mechanical arm transformed again, producing a bolt-action sniper rifle, killing a distant contaminant with a single shot. Amidst the smell of gunpowder, Z1932 turned back to Palmer, his right eye normal but the left displaying a red crosshair, with tiny precision and wind direction data on the side.

“No one has ever asked me that before. You’re the first,” Z1932 smiled briefly, “Of course, no one has asked the previous question either.”

"...So he does have a name," Palmer thought to himself.

"Besides the code, I have another name, Jie Lin Yuan."

"Jie Lin Yuan," Palmer repeated, "...So what kind of person only has a code, no name?"

Jie Lin Yuan seemed in a good mood, willing to answer his odd question: "Everyone has a name. If there is only a code, then that code is his name."

Code... "Palmer" flashed back to a white card embedded in a transparent display, bearing just a few brief words—

No. Wu Yin

If a code is a name, Wu Yin...

He pursed his lips in disdain; that name wasn’t even as good as Wu Xiaohu.

*

By the time Wu Yin followed Jie Lin Yuan back to the vicinity of the farmhouse, the surrounding contaminants had been cleared, leaving a strong stench in the air. The corpse of the bamboo-jointed mutant lay at the edge of the forest and clearing, with a woman in combat attire taking photos beside it.

Wu Yin didn't recognize the person, presumably a member of the vanguard team who had come with Jie Lin Yuan. He soon heard intermittent sobbing and, looking towards the sound, saw a researcher sitting on the ground, wiping her tears, her eyes filled with panic and despair. The other researchers stood far from her, with only one guard trying to comfort her, though their squatting posture was very stiff and tense, maintaining a strict one-meter distance from the researcher, with their right hand always on the gun at their waist.

Captain Zhao was also there, frowning in helplessness and anxiety. Seeing Wu Yin, in Palmer's guise, appear, he quickly approached, stopping abruptly upon noticing Jie Lin Yuan standing behind him. Captain Zhao clearly harbored wariness towards this half-mechanical being: "...Any injuries? Have you seen Wu Xiaohu?"

"No," Wu Yin said calmly, "Wu Xiaohu is dead."

"He..." Captain Zhao's voice faltered for a moment, and he sighed, not asking further.

A military green transport vehicle appeared on the clearing, its front loaded with rifles and guns. To make space for passengers, the vehicle's storage was maximized, even tying supplies to the exterior and roof. A middle-aged man with a full beard stood beside the front tire, frowning as he listened to a subordinate's report, with prominent nose and deep-set eyes, heavy laugh lines indicating he was their superior.

As soon as Jie Lin Yuan appeared, he shouted towards him, "Z!"

Wu Yin watched Jie Lin Yuan jog over and stand at attention beside the superior. The superior asked him several questions with a stern face, the specifics of their conversation unknown, but the bearded superior's expression remained grave and cautious throughout, as if the subordinate had made a significant mistake.

Jie Lin Yuan's demeanor was consistently submissive and respectful, not showing any dissatisfaction despite the superior's harsh attitude.

After their communication, the bearded superior handed Jie Lin Yuan an alloy bracelet from his pocket, which seemed quite substantial. Jie Lin Yuan obediently accepted it, fastening the bracelet around his left wrist, adjusting it to fit, and locking it into place with a slide mechanism. This series of actions was performed with practiced ease, as if he had done it thousands of times.

Wearing the bracelet seemed to discomfort Jie Lin Yuan, Palmer noticed his brow briefly furrow unnaturally, revealing a flash of resistance.

Then, the bearded superior took out a raindrop-shaped metal pendant from his neckline, hanging on a simple yet sturdy silver chain. He pressed the thumb pad above the metal piece, and after ten seconds, accompanied by a barely audible recognition sound, Jie Lin Yuan's crimson eyes suddenly flashed with a series of data, then slowly dimmed in one, like the sun setting, leaving only deep black in the bottom of his eye sockets.

His left shoulder also seemed to become heavier, drooping slightly under the weight.

"...What's happening?" A question mark appeared over Wu Yin's head, who had been covertly observing from the side.

"Is it... powered down?"

If the spare body could be controlled by others, how could "he" use it?

And what exactly are Jie Lin Yuan's interpersonal relationships like? Why are his relationships with superiors and colleagues in other departments so poor?