Chapter 50 Child with Severed Hands and Feet

**Chapter 50: The Child Who Lost an Arm and a Leg**

After recuperating at home for a week, Zhou Qin returned to headquarters. His first act upon returning was to submit his resignation, resigning as Deputy Commander.

Gu Jinsheng's handsome profile was flawless in every detail, yet perpetually shrouded in an unyielding coldness. His pitch-black eyes were deep and bottomless, like an abyss.

Yet, in truth, he was fairer and more impartial than anyone else—truly embodying the nickname some in the base had secretly given him: "the robot," a being driven purely by fairness, devoid of personal desires.

Logically, Zhou Qin's resignation should have been nothing but beneficial for Gu Jinsheng. If he wished, he could easily promote someone else who would be utterly loyal and devoted to him—someone far more useful than Zhou Qin in his current disabled state, and far more effective at deterring scheming troublemakers.

But Gu Jinsheng, like a machine that ignored personal gain and considered only the greater good, once again sternly and solemnly refused Zhou Qin's request.

Gu Jinsheng's thin lips parted as he spoke, "I've said it before—Jing City Base is not a place that discards its tools after use, and I, Gu Jinsheng, am not a heartless man. The position of Deputy Commander is what you earned through blood, sweat, and tears for this base. It is rightfully yours."

Gu Jinsheng never embellished his words with flowery language, unlike others who exaggerated trivial acts into grand gestures of self-sacrifice.

Yet, it was precisely these plain, unadorned words that made Zhou Qin's eyes redden. Even after enduring betrayal so devastating it had seared his bones, Zhou Qin was still moved by Gu Jinsheng's words.

Perhaps it was precisely because of that soul-shaking experience that any subsequent kindness felt all the more poignant.

Zhou Qin pressed his fingers to his eyes, forcing back the moisture and the sting in his nose. He was not a weak man, nor one prone to tears.

When he looked up again, his eyes carried his usual cheerful expression, as though none of the pain had ever happened.

"Boss, hearing you say that... I'm touched. Truly, I'm grateful. But no matter how you look at it, it just doesn't seem right for me to keep sitting in this seat as Deputy Commander." Zhou Qin smiled, his expression seemingly free of shadows, as if everything had truly passed.

But it was precisely this that made Gu Jinsheng certain he hadn't moved on. The faintest crease formed between Gu Jinsheng's ink-dark brows—so subtle it would go unnoticed unless one looked closely.

"Boss, think about it. Our base may not care, but as we grow stronger, more international delegations will come. Sooner or later, we'll run into countries like R and M looking for trouble.

As the Deputy Commander of Jing City Base, if I can't fight back, won't that just humiliate our base? Tarnish the reputation we built through Cruise's efforts?"

Gu Jinsheng was not a man easily swayed—otherwise, he wouldn't be the Commander-in-Chief of Jing City Base. At his core, he adhered unwaveringly to his principles.

"Not everything in the base requires force to manage. There are civilian operations as well." Gu Jinsheng left no room for refusal as he issued his command: "You and Kong Zhongcheng will switch roles. He'll take over your responsibilities, and you'll handle his current workload."

Kong Zhongcheng had been handling administrative duties lately, making the swap straightforward.

"Understood." Gu Jinsheng's tone brooked no argument—this was an order, not a discussion. Zhou Qin had no choice but to comply.

The moment Kong Zhongcheng saw Zhou Qin, he let out an exaggerated cry. "Zhou! My savior! You’ve finally come to save me! You have no idea how these paperwork duties have been driving me insane. I dream of signing endless documents and listening to never-ending reports—their reports drone on worse than a swarm of flies buzzing in my ears! I've been tempted so many times to just shut them up with my superpower."

Kong Zhongcheng was unusually talkative today. "Those scholars are way out of my league—they’re perfect for a smiling tiger like you to handle. Honestly, we should’ve swapped positions ages ago."

Zhou Qin smiled, showing no trace of abnormality, and even exchanged a few jokes with Kong Zhongcheng before smoothly taking over his workload.

Though Kong Zhongcheng had complained endlessly, he had handled his duties meticulously. Especially recently, with the base hosting an auction that drew attention from major factions due to the spatial storage devices and nutrition packs on offer—many sought negotiations for these items, keeping the paperwork flowing heavier than battlefield orders.

Despite this, Kong Zhongcheng had managed everything flawlessly, ensuring smooth operations where every department head could handle their responsibilities. Thus, even though Zhou Qin was taking over abruptly, it required little adjustment.

As Kong Zhongcheng left, he couldn’t fully mask his feelings, stealing worried glances back at Zhou Qin.

Zhou Qin pretended not to notice.

Perhaps out of consideration for Zhou Qin’s state, his colleagues avoided burdening him with unnecessary tasks. As a result, his workload was far lighter than Kong Zhongcheng’s had been.

With time on his hands, Zhou Qin visited the research institute after work one evening. He was well-known there, receiving friendly greetings.

"To what do we owe the visit, Commander Zhou?" Wu Youyang had also heard about Zhou Qin's leg injury, so he wasn’t surprised to see him arrive using crutches. What did surprise him was Zhou Qin's visit itself.

Generally, if the command headquarters needs any research done, they would go to Han Yaokun, since his department is the proper research institute of the base. At best, what they have here is just a private lab inside the institute.

Zhou Qin said with a cheerful smile, "I need to talk to Mr. Ji about something. Haven’t seen him around—is he not here?"

"He is," Wu Youyang quickly replied. "You’ve come at just the right time, Commander Zhou. If you’d arrived even a few days ago, Mr. Ji wouldn’t have been here. He only returned recently."

As he spoke, Wu Youyang’s expression turned apologetic. "But you might have to wait here for a bit. Mr. Ji has a habit of not liking to be disturbed when he’s working on research. Though, he should be coming out soon—these past few days, he’s been stepping out around this time."

"No problem. It’s nothing urgent, just some personal matters. I’ll sit here and wait," Zhou Qin said while fumbling with his crutches. He was still getting used to them and hadn’t quite mastered their use.

After struggling for a while, he finally managed to settle in. Just as he barely sat down, Ji An emerged from the lab.

Ji An walked out wearing a white lab coat, his brows slightly furrowed, his eyes not fixed on anyone or anything in particular—clearly deep in thought about something.

He must have been pondering some complex research topic, likely having hit a snag.

"Any updates on the axolotls [Mexican salamanders], African spiny mice, and zebrafish I asked you to look for?" Ji An mused aloud as he removed his lab coat, casually handing it to Wu Youyang, who stepped forward to take it. He hadn’t even noticed Zhou Qin sitting on the couch, waiting for him.

"There’s news on the zebrafish—someone inquired about the price. But they’re mutated," Wu Youyang answered.

"Mutants work. Might even enhance their natural traits. Good luck finding non-mutated ones these days," Ji An replied absentmindedly, barely registering his own words.

"Mr. Ji, Commander Zhou is here. He’s been waiting for you," Wu Youyang had to remind him.

"Hm? Who?" Ji An seemed not to have heard Wu Youyang at all, his big, bright eyes slowly scanning around—not dull, but full of vitality.

Finally, his gaze landed on Zhou Qin, who was struggling to stand with his crutches, as if slowly recognizing who was before him.

"Zhou Qin?" Ji An blinked, finally snapping out of his research-induced daze. "Commander Zhou, you came to see me?"

Zhou Qin grinned, showing no sign of displeasure or feeling slighted. He knew researchers had their quirks. Ji An was actually one of the more normal ones—when he’s not buried in research, he’s just like a regular guy.

"Yes," Zhou Qin said with a smile. "Are you still busy, Mr. Ji? If not, I was hoping you could take me to the orphanage."

"Not busy. This experiment isn’t a race against time—it’s a long-haul project." Ji An replied. "Let’s go. It’s been a while since I last visited the kids anyway. We can head over together."

After Ji An left, Wu Youyang entered the lab to tidy up. He never let anyone else handle these tasks—not even something as simple as sweeping. He was always worried that students or cleaning staff might accidentally disrupt something and delay Ji An’s experiments.

Seeing the dissected earthworms, segmented starfish, and pages upon pages of experimental data on the table, Wu Youyang realized Ji An was studying the natural regenerative abilities of certain animals.

Thinking of Zhou Qin’s missing leg, Wu Youyang sighed deeply.

All he could do was check if the jellyfish and geckos raised with care needed food or water.

On the way, Zhou Qin took the initiative to ask about the orphanage and even bought over a thousand credits’ worth of supplies for the children. Ji An did the same, purchasing a similar amount.

Ji An never visited empty-handed—mainly because he could afford it. His living expenses were covered, and aside from clothing, he had little to spend on. Even so, the amount he earned now made such expenses a drop in the bucket.

Supporting the orphanage was his biggest expense, and even then, the base was the primary funder. Ji An only contributed ten to twenty million credits annually—truly no burden at all.

When they arrived, the children were in class, taught by instructors Ji An had hired. The sound of lively, clear voices reciting lessons filled the air, brimming with vibrant energy—nothing like the heavy, suffocating mood of typical orphanages.

"This is so much better than I imagined," Zhou Qin remarked. "I thought it’d feel heavy and stifling here, but it’s the complete opposite—so full of life. Just being here makes me feel like the future is bursting with hope again."

"Honestly, for these children, just being here is already a sign of hope for the future," Ji An said, watching the kids in class. A gentle smile—one he wasn’t even aware of—spread across his face, his warm smile practically glowing in the sunlight.

Zhou Qin found it almost dazzling, and in that moment, he suddenly understood what Ji An meant.

For children who had once faced starvation, freezing cold, and the constant threat of death, arriving here meant no longer worrying about hunger or cold. They could study, learn, and even receive rewards for good behavior—how could this not be a hopeful future for them?

The orphanage he considered unsuitable for raising children might actually be paradise for these kids.

This must be what people mean by "one man’s trash is another man’s treasure."

"Mr. Ji," Yuan Mingan said as she carried a bucket of water out from the house. Ji An quickly stepped forward to help.

Yuan Mingan avoided him, smiling. "Mr. Ji, this isn’t the world before the apocalypse anymore. I have plenty of strength—this much water is nothing to me."

Ji An replied, "Even so, taking care of the children every day must be exhausting. If I can help lighten your load while I’m here, at least it’ll make things easier for you."

Yuan Mingan chuckled and didn’t argue further. She asked Ji An to place the bucket in the sunniest spot in the yard. "Leave it there. The water will warm up soon, and the children can take a bath. They’re long overdue—it’s been nearly a month since they last washed."

Before the apocalypse, going a month without bathing would have seemed filthy. But now, with all water sources contaminated, every drop of usable water had to come from superpowered individuals.

Fortunately, water-wielding superpowered were relatively common in this post-apocalyptic world. Even so, supplying enough water for so many people was difficult, leaving it in short supply.

As a result, many found water too expensive and saved it whenever possible—only drinking when desperate, let alone bathing.

For these orphaned children, bathing once a month was already a luxury.

This was only possible because Yuan Mingan, their caretaker, happened to be a water-wielding superpowered. Anyone else, no matter how hard they tried, wouldn’t have been able to provide the same.

"Ms. Yuan truly cares for the children," Zhou Qin suddenly remarked.

Only then did Yuan Mingan notice the man with a missing leg and crutches standing behind Ji An—it was Commander Zhou!

Yuan Mingan rarely left the orphanage and had no idea what had happened to Zhou Qin.

Though curious and shocked, she quickly suppressed her reaction.

Seeing such a once-powerful man reduced to this state must be painful enough—she didn’t want to reopen his wounds.

"I’m sorry, Commander Zhou. I was busy earlier and didn’t notice you." In truth, she had seen the one-legged man but, out of politeness, hadn’t paid much attention. Never would she have guessed it was the same Commander Zhou who, just over a month ago, had been in his prime!

"Don’t worry about it. You were busy," Zhou Qin replied with a smile, as if his missing leg didn’t matter. "Ms. Yuan, you’ve taken excellent care of the children. Thank you."

Yuan Mingan waved her hands dismissively. "It’s my duty, and I’m paid for it. Doing my job well is only expected. You’re too kind."

"Not at all," Ji An chimed in. "Effort is what counts, whether you're paid or not."

As they spoke, the teacher finished the lesson and dismissed the children.

The teachers were all personally selected by Ji An, so she recognized him and hurried over to greet him. "Mr. Ji, you’re here."

Ji An asked, "How’s work? Settling in?"

"Absolutely. The children are all well-behaved."

"Brother Ji An!" A loud cry rang out as Little Stone came charging out, crashing into Ji An’s arms.

"Hello, Brother Ji An," Little Rose also ran over, though the girl hung back shyly. Instead of diving into his arms like the rambunctious boy, she gently tugged at the hem of Ji An’s clothes, staring up at him with big eyes.

Ji An’s heart melted.

"I missed you so much, Brother Ji An!" Ji An had lived with the kids for almost a month earlier. His kindness and patience, combined with their natural affection for him—their rescuer—created a bond like imprinting. The kids adored him.

"Brother Ji An, misses you too." As he spoke, more children gathered around, with some of the younger ones clambering over Ji An, begging to be picked up.

Ji An scooped one up without hesitation. Zhou Qin looked surprised—clearly not expecting Ji An to be so close with the kids.

Yuan Mingan explained, "Commander Zhou, these children were all rescued by Mr. Ji, so they’re especially attached to him."

"Oh, right. That makes sense," Zhou Qin replied.

Little Stone’s big eyes curiously examined Zhou Qin. He wasn’t unfamiliar with people missing limbs—in fact, he’d seen as much darkness as any adult.

But he’d never seen someone missing a leg who dressed so sharply and carried the imposing aura of a badass super.

"This is Brother Zhou Qin," Ji An introduced to the children. "He’s our base’s Deputy Commander. The orphanage was built partly because he threw his support behind it."

Hearing this, the kids perked up right away, warming up to Zhou Qin too.

Surrounded by the children, listening to their innocent yet heartfelt words of gratitude, Zhou Qin felt an unprecedented sense of peace.

Since both Ji An and Zhou Qin happened to be there, they helped bathe the kids.

Though Zhou Qin couldn’t move well, he could still help while sitting on a low stool.

With water so scarce, there was no luxury of individual baths. Instead, a large tub was used to fit as many kids as possible, and the same water was reused to scrub them down—no one could afford to complain about getting dirty when even this much water was hard to come by.

As Ji An scrubbed one child, he remarked to Zhou Qin, "It’s only been two weeks since I last came, but there seem to be ten more kids here."

Zhou Qin had never bathed kids before and was struggling to keep up while still managing to reply, "Life is tough in the apocalypse. Everyone’s just scraping by—nobody’s got time to worry about these kids. There’ll only be more of them here in the future."

Ji An sighed. "Guess we gotta hustle harder then."

Zhou Qin nearly choked. "You already earn more than enough."

Ji An cracked up laughing.

Just then, the orphanage’s gate rattled under urgent pounding.

Ji An’s expression darkened. He set the child down and hurried outside. Zhou Qin tried to follow but stumbled when he stood—he’d forgotten he was now one-legged.

His gaze darkened briefly, but his attention was quickly pulled back by a kid splashing water in his face while trying to scrub himself.

Little Stone giggled. "You’re so clumsy! Look at me—I wash myself just fine. Brother Ji An only helps with my back when I can’t reach."

Ji An opened the gate to find a scrawny, rat-faced man with beady, bulging eyes. The man peered past Ji An into the courtyard, scanning the scene—just a bunch of kids, Ji An’s seemingly frail figure, and a one-legged man. His eyes gleamed with scheming.

"I heard you take in kids. Got one missing limbs here—want it? If not, I’ll just dump it."

At his feet lay a child with tangled, filthy hair, too grimy to tell if it was a boy or girl.

One of the child’s legs was missing from the thigh down, while the other, though still attached, was jagged at the ankle—like it had healed wrong. Their arms were in a similar state: one wrist bent unnaturally, the other completely severed, the stump long healed over with scarred flesh.

The child’s clothes were tattered, full of holes, barely more than rags, making their condition painfully clear.

They lay motionless on the ground—whether alive or dead was unclear.

Ji An immediately crouched to check. Thankfully, there was still breath—faint, like a newborn kitten’s.

"What’s going on?" Yuan Mingan, who had been bathing the girls indoors, came out to investigate. Spotting the man and the child at his feet, she rushed over to check on the kid.

Yuan Mingan cried out in alarm, "What happened? How did this kid get so badly hurt? Is he still alive?"

"He's alive," Ji An replied, already lifting the child into his arms. The boy was light as a feather—practically weightless—as if he weighed less than a solid wooden chair.

His body was covered in wounds; some were still oozing blood, while others were black and blue, clearly fresh injuries.

The child bore layers of new and old wounds, with not a single patch of unbroken skin left.

When the scrawny man saw Ji An and the others noticing the child's injuries, he quickly said, "I had nothing to do with this! I found this kid on the street. He looked pitiful, and I heard you take in children here, so I brought him over."

With that, the man darted off and vanished. Ji An, holding the child, couldn't chase after him, and Yuan Mingan tried to pursue, but the man was too fast and seemed familiar with the area—disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Yuan Mingan ran back, panting, and said, "He got away."

It wasn’t that Yuan Mingan didn’t want to use her Superpower to stop the clearly guilty man, but according to the laws of Jing City Base, the first rule explicitly forbade using Superpowers to fight within the base. Violators could be expelled or even have their Superpowers revoked.

This rule existed both to protect ordinary people and to prevent Superpowered individuals from recklessly using their abilities, damaging public property, or causing casualties.

"Let it go," Ji An said, carrying the child inside. "I remember what he looks like. I'll draw his face later and give it to Gu Jinsheng—he can help track him down."

"That's our only option for now," Yuan Mingan replied.