Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Lu Fen glanced at him indifferently, not directly answering the question but instead replied, "Hm?"

Seeing that he didn't seem keen on answering, An Zhe summoned his courage, considering the potential clues, and said, "Something was approaching you..."

Lu Fen raised an eyebrow. "Nothing approached me."

An Zhe persisted, "Doctor mentioned earlier that—"

"I went to check on a project," Lu Fen said nonchalantly. "That's all there is to it."

An Zhe was exasperated by this person. He wanted to ask what project Lu Fen had visited, but the man's words implied that he hadn't done anything significant.

"The lab called him over," the Doctor returned to the monitoring equipment, "routine work, he'll be back after finishing his part. But he might have to make a few more trips later."

With that, the Doctor began to focus on studying Si Nan's previous footage.

Lu Fen's thought process was inscrutable. It was one thing not to grasp the main point, but the Doctor had also answered irrelevantly. An Zhe hadn't gleaned any information. Sitting beside Lily, he felt restless, both frustrated for not getting answers and resentful that he couldn't ask too obviously due to the fear of revealing his identity. He even entertained the idea of tailing Lu Fen when he left again.

Amidst the silence, Lu Fen casually remarked, "Focus on your work."

An Zhe: "..."

At five o'clock in the afternoon, it was time for Lily to leave. After she departed, Si Nan ceased his rhythmic tapping on the wall and began to randomly bang against it in the cell. An Zhe documented the day's events briefly. The doctor informed him that he could go back.

An Zhe looked at Lu Fen.

Lu Fen said, "I'll stay here."

Doctor Dao said, "He's on duty tonight."

An Zhe: "Oh."

Within the lighthouse, a myriad of experiments took place, a substantial portion of which involved the study of xenobiology. Oftentimes, improper handling or unforeseen incidents would lead to staff infection, thus necessitating a permanent presence of Inquisitorial agents.

At this thought, he suddenly felt that the situation was becoming rather challenging.

Without an ID card, he couldn't return to his own home, and if Lu Fen didn't go back either, he had nowhere else to go.

Contemplating this, Lu Fen retrieved an ID card from the breast pocket of his uniform and handed it to An Zhe. "Go back on your own."

An Zhe took it and said, "Thank you."

The Doctor grumbled, "Tsk."

An Zhe asked, "Are you having dinner here?"

Lu Fen continued to study the military catalog and nonchalantly replied, "Mm-hmm."

An Zhe inquired, "What are you eating?"

"The neighboring lab and Eden have jointly invented a new compressed nutrient formula," the Doctor said while typing. "It's currently only available for internal use within the Lighthouse."

At this point, he increased the force of his keystrokes. "It's the worst thing I've ever tasted in my life."

An Zhe stood there, pondering for a moment.

He realized that the air ducts and the Lighthouse were all meaningless. The only one truly connected to finding the spores was Lu Fen.

He asked Lu Fen, "Shall I bring you some food?"

Lu Fen looked up at him, his clear, detached gaze revealing nothing of his feelings.

An Zhe noticed that Lu Fen had also turned to the page on the PL1109 fighter jet.

Without receiving an answer, An Zhe whispered, "I'll get it for you then."

"Tsk," the Doctor made a sound.

The Doctor said, "I want some too."

Lu Fen replied, "You won't find any."

The Doctor then turned to An Zhe, "I'd like some tomato soup."

An Zhe responded, "There might not be any."

He wasn't lying; the ingredients available in their living area changed daily, depending on what was produced by Eden at that time – except for potatoes.

Indeed, tomatoes were part of today's ingredients.

An Zhe paused in front of the tomato display, hesitating for a moment.

Then he turned and headed for the refrigerator that held mushrooms.

He recalled having dinner with Lu Fen yesterday, when Lu Fen had chosen the mushroom soup from the same bland trio of potato, tomato, and mushroom soups served at the communal mess hall that night. Although An Zhe found his choice a little unsettling, still...

After two minutes of internal debate, he picked up two servings of mushrooms.

These mushrooms, cultivated by the base, were grayish-white with plump stems and soft caps. As a regular customer, the staff in the food section recognized him and asked, "Mushrooms for tonight?"

"Mm-hmm," An Zhe replied. "Do I need any other ingredients?"

Following the staff's advice, An Zhe returned with some fresh meat and a seasoning packet. He used Lu Fen's card to pay; the cost of the ingredients would have seemed substantial to him otherwise, but in comparison to the balance, it was negligible.

Taking up the knife, An Zhe took a deep breath and began slicing the mushrooms, which were soft and easily halved. The mushroom soup also took less time than the others—after boiling diced chicken bones in water, he added the seasoning and mushrooms. Before long, a light, fragrant aroma wafted up. An Zhe sealed the pressure cooker, set the timer, and left the kitchen.

With nothing else to do, he watered the roses in the colonel's room, tidied up, and switched on the television in the living room.

It was now time for the news broadcast, and as the screen flickered to life, An Zhe spotted a familiar figure.

—Hubbard, the mercenary captain who had once ordered a doll from Boss Xiao and had also helped obtain information about Lu Fen.

Back then, if he hadn't already led his team on another mission, he might have been implicated in the crime too.

"The recall of mercenaries is currently proceeding smoothly. This morning, the entire AR137 mercenary squad returned to the base. They are the only team, aside from the military, capable of undertaking six-star missions. They've brought back valuable samples and the latest news from the outside world. Our reporter has interviewed Mr. Hubbard, the captain of AR137."

On screen, Hubbard was clad in outdoor gear, stepping down from an armored vehicle. A journalist was interviewing him.

"Mr. Hubbard, welcome back."

Hubbard replied, "Thank you."

Beside them, a staff member was guiding them through a blood check, saying, "The main city welcomes you."

"Thanks," Hubbard said. "I'm quite surprised by the state of the base."

The journalist asked, "Your return date was slightly later than that of other mercenary teams. Did you encounter any difficulties along the way?"

"None," Hubbard replied tersely. "The signal was weak, and I just received the recall notice."

The reporter smiled. "May I ask which area you've returned from?"

"The outskirts of the Abyss."

"And how is the situation there now?"

"The monsters have become more diverse in their forms."

"The Abyss truly is a terrifying place. What did you bring back with you?"

"Specimens."

"Thank you for your contribution to the base," the journalist said.

"You're welcome," Hubbard answered.

An Zhe felt that Hubbard could rival Lu Fen in terms of being a man of few words, but his eyes were not as captivating as Lu Feng's.

The news anchor continued, "As we understand it, the returning mercenaries will be incorporated into the military's ranks after their merits have been calculated, continuing to serve the base."

After this news segment, a few insignificant stories followed. There weren't many noteworthy events occurring daily in the main city, so most of the time, the host reported on the new advancements in Lighthouse's research. The abundance of technical terms and jargon made An Zhe drowsy.

The pressure cooker in the kitchen beeped, rescuing him from his boredom. Upon lifting the lid, a rich aroma wafted out. The soup had thickened, its texture velvety, with white mushrooms barely visible beneath its surface. He took a sip, feeling satisfied. Happily, he filled a thermos with enough soup for three people, planning to bring it to the Lighthouse.

But as he stepped out of the kitchen, he froze.

The news showed a silver laboratory filled with intricate machinery. In the center of the room was a cylindrical glass tank containing clear, pale green liquid.

Inside this tank, which was as tall as a person, a tiny, white object floated serenely at the very middle.

An Zhe's eyes widened, and he hurriedly approached the television—just as the camera zoomed in, providing a close-up of that small, white mass.

It was a snow-white, fluffy ball. Its main body resembled a cloud floating in water, similar in size to the mushrooms he'd cooked with today.

In addition, delicate, white fungal filaments stretched out, submerged in the liquid, gently swaying with the object's movements through the water.

An Zhe held his breath.

He would never mistake his spore—despite the fact that it seemed to have grown a bit since he last saw it.

An Zhe raised his hand, his fingers trembling slightly as they pressed against the cold television screen, as if he were touching the surface of the glass tank, with only a thin layer of glass separating him from that snowy-white mass. But then, the news anchor's voice shattered this illusion: "Four months ago, the anomalous fungal sample collected by the Court was designated as a primary observation subject. Fungi, being a unique type of eukaryotic organism, had never before exhibited a deviation from their basic species form. Thus, The Lighthouse deemed the sample of great research value; perhaps through its study, we could unravel the process and principles behind biological mutations caused by infection."

An Zhe's brows knitted together. His spore had indeed been taken for research.

The news anchor continued, "According to researchers, the sample remained in a semi-dead state for the past four months. However, within the past two days, it has regained activity and experienced some growth. This is an exhilarating development..."

An Zhe's heart thumped fiercely.

—He knew that the spore recognized him too.

Otherwise, why would it start growing now, precisely during the two days he had spent at The Lighthouse? The spore must have sensed his presence and yearned to return to him.

The anchor proceeded, "The laboratory has contacted the Court and confirmed that the sample's growth pattern resembles that of the original host."

On the screen, the spore drifted towards a particular direction, swaying gently. An Zhe imagined that it was undoubtedly heading towards the lab where he was, longing to find him.

In the next instant, a figure appeared beside the glass tank, their body out of frame, leaving only a vague reflection. It was unclear who this person was.

An Zhe wished for this person to keep a distance from his spore.

On the contrary, the person reached out, his fingertips lightly touching the surface of the tank. His fingers were long and slender, with beautifully defined knuckles. An Zhe furrowed his brow; he was very familiar with the shape of this hand.

He was intimately acquainted with the cuffs of that person's garment, as well as the silver buttons adorning them.

An Zhe gnashed his teeth in frustration, confirming beyond a doubt that the person who dared to touch the spores was none other than that villain, Lu Fen.

And yet, at that very moment, the spore drifted before the malevolent entity. Its delicate, snowy mycelium extended, gently tapping against his finger through the tank.

An Zhe: "?"