Chapter 1: High-Risk Specimen

Chapter 1: High-Risk Specimen

"Still no contact with that person?"

The dead of winter in the Olk Empire was preternaturally silent. On the blood-red floor of the palace, the anxious footsteps of Crown Prince Lyrens echoed with unnerving precision.

"Your Highness Lyrens, Arbiter Eleven's outpost is buried under snow. Our contact team is barely managing to climb that snowfield. It’ll take a long time before we receive any updates from the front."

"Hmph. Only that man could endure such a hellish place for so long."

Crown Prince Lyrens let out a cold snort. "He'd better be dead. Tell the contact team to keep searching! I want to know whether he’s alive or not!"

The day after this order was sent, the contact team reached the snowfield.

Fully equipped, they halted at the entrance.

A knife-edged wind howled from the depths of the ravine, sapping their courage to proceed.

This was no place for the living. Aside from a dilapidated cabin near the valley entrance—likely a supply point—there was no trace of human activity.

No one was home, but venturing into the snowfield in this weather meant a death sentence.

"Should… should we keep looking?" The youngest member of the team trembled slightly. "I’ve… never seen what an Arbiter looks like."

The team leader, the oldest among them, took a deep breath and declared loudly, "Even if he is an Arbiter, no one could survive alone in these conditions for so long. He’s probably dead!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a sharp *click* sounded from the cabin—someone had accidentally pressed a button while rummaging through an old radio.

The radio sputtered awake, broadcasting an imperial channel.

There was a signal, and the battery still had plenty of charge, proving the cabin’s owner had used it not long ago.

The rest of the team shared nervous looks.

"He left recently?"

One member broke the silence, "But I don’t sense any traces of his psychic residue."

He scanned the surroundings. "Normal human activity should leave behind some residual psychic energy…"

"Seems the rumors are true," a liaison officer whispered. "The reason Arbiter Eleven was exiled here is that he has no psychic energy at all…"

No one responded.

Even if this was a long-standing secret among the empire’s higher-ups, no one dared openly discuss an Arbiter.

"What do we do now?" the youngest member asked timidly. "Wait here?"

"Quiet. Listen to what he was tuning into."

Another member turned up the volume. "If we can find a clue from the radio, maybe we’ll know where he went."

Everyone fell silent, listening intently.

After half a minute, someone couldn’t hold back: "What the hell is this—"

The radio’s sweet, clear female voice announced, "Your soulmate could be waiting. Has any of the declarations from our singles touched your heart? Welcome to call Capital First Radio, where we’ll arrange a sweet date for you…"

"This is the empire’s dating channel…"

*

Meanwhile, on the distant other side of the ice field, the snow had stopped.

This was the Olk Empire’s Frozen City—once a bustling industrial zone, now buried under a kilometer-thick layer of permafrost.

As the last snowflake fell, a massive fissure split open in the ice, unleashing a howling gale.

A young man with black hair and dark eyes stood at the edge of the fissure, holding his breath as he peered into the bottomless darkness below.

The ice concealed unfathomable shadows.

A terrifying, shrill shriek erupted from the fissure, kicking up a blinding snowstorm that instantly engulfed the young man.

But the piercing scream abruptly ceased, leaving the world in an eerie silence.

The snow slowly settled.

Arbiter Eleven, Jing Rong, remained at the fissure’s edge. Only now, he held in his grasp the humanoid form of a creature.

It had a scaly fish tail and a flattened, grayish-blue face. Its throat was clamped tightly in Jing Rong’s grip, rendering it silent.

"626, help me identify this."

Jing Rong spoke. "Can’t recognize it."

There was no one around him—only the wind should have answered. Yet moments later, a voice replied.

"System 626 here. What you’re holding… is a merperson severely corrupted by mental pollution."

System 626 consulted its biological database. "The merpeople of this world retain a spiny, plated hide. They possess some intelligence but are highly aggressive, ranking among the most dangerous creatures in this ice field."

"Of course, these merpeople have nothing in common with mythical mermaids."

Jing Rong considered this, tightening his grip on the merperson’s neck to study its face.

This seemed to be difficult for him.

After a long moment, Jing Rong remarked, "It really is ugly."

Hearing this, the ugly merperson flailed angrily.

RNM, (fish) body-shaming!

Jing Rong released his grip, letting the merperson drop back into the fissure.

The merperson shot him a venomous look before scrambling away into the depths.

System 626 sounded like it had just woken up. "You chased this thing for three days without rest… just for this?"

Jing Rong picked up his equipment pack, rummaged out a piece of compressed biscuit, and began eating. "One night, I saw it swim beneath me. Its scales were a color I’d never seen before. I wanted to see what it looked like."

System 626 went silent. "Dude."

System 626: "If you’re really this desperate to find someone, just go back and try a dating service."

The wind cut like ice, and 626 actually felt bad for its colleague. "At least the people you meet through matchmaking are human."

Jing Rong: "…………"

No use explaining now.

As a first-level Executive of the Universal Executive Bureau, his purpose in coming to this world was indeed to find a romantic partner.

Before this, he had already gone through twenty-eight failed office-arranged matchmaking attempts, becoming the only single person in the Executive Bureau.

In order to secure a partner, he requested paid leave from the Executive Bureau and began searching for a potential spouse across various parallel worlds.

For the sake of timeline stability, his identity upon entering each world was randomly generated, and some system functions were disabled for him.

However, in this current world, he had already been here for a year, still wandering the snowy plains, facing off against various mutated creatures day after day.

Due to the special nature of his identity in this world, he was temporarily stuck in this area.

"Let's head back." Finishing the ration bar, Jing Rong stood up. "The scent of the wind coming from the canyon today is different. What happened?"

System 626 scanned the map: "The map indicates visitors today—not just one, but many."

Jing Rong raised an eyebrow slightly: "Visitors?"

His identity and location were known to only a handful of people. If someone could find him, they must have come from the distant capital.

System 626 said: "Their exact identities are unclear for now. It seems something has happened in the royal capital. My detection range is very limited. You know, I'm also on leave—this is all the information I can gather."

Jing Rong paused thoughtfully, gazing toward the distant edge of the snowy plains. There was nothing but a featureless white expanse, impossible to discern.

*

When Jing Rong appeared alone at the entrance of the snowy plains with his gear, the liaison team looked at him like they'd seen a ghost.

"Please, have a seat. Would you like hot water? Or hot chocolate?"

Jing Rong sat by the chairs, lining up a row of aluminum cups as he casually asked. After receiving their answers, he began adding cocoa powder to each cup one by one.

Hot water poured into the cups, steam moistening his raven-black hair.

The others snuck glances at him, each face bearing varying degrees of astonishment.

Jing Rong was nothing like the Arbiter they had imagined.

He was completely unflappable—too calm, even—lacking the intimidating presence they associated with Arbiters.

Jing Rong ignored their curious gazes. After preparing the cocoa, he passed them around to everyone.

The squad leader accepted the cup from his hands. For some reason, though those eyes were tranquil, the moment he met Jing Rong’s gaze directly, he instinctively took a step back.

Jing Rong didn’t notice his reaction.

The squad leader tried to cover his discomfort: "Thank you for your hospitality... Arbiter No. 11. We’re here to inform you that, on His Majesty’s secret order, there is an urgent mission in the capital awaiting your participation."

Jing Rong didn’t respond immediately. Only after handing out the last cup of hot cocoa did he ask flatly, "What mission?"

His tone conveyed his lack of enthusiasm: "If the mission details are unclear, even if it’s His Majesty’s order, I have every right to refuse."

According to Arbiter law, the highest-ranking Arbiters could reject royal commands.

Jing Rong wasn’t one to look for trouble. These people had clearly brought a messy assignment from the capital, which didn’t align with his paid leave plans.

As if anticipating his attitude, the squad leader handed him a thick leather dossier, lowering his voice to an urgent whisper.

"An SSS-class high-risk test subject has escaped."

At the mention of "SSS-class," Jing Rong hesitated momentarily.

System 626 also flared in his mind.

The previously silent 626 spoke up: "An SSS-class high-risk test subject—given this designation, no one in this world has the psychic power to oppose it."

"Even the highest-level royal psychics only reach SS-class."

System 626: "I don’t recommend you jump into this mission. It’s undoubtedly a major plotline deeply tied to the world’s main timeline."

Jing Rong agreed with 626’s assessment.

Having executed critical missions across multiple worlds, he had a keen sense for pivotal figures like this.

Without orders from the Universal Executive Bureau, he generally had no intention of interfering with worldlines.

Unless properly compensated.

And right now, he was just on paid leave. There was no need to entangle himself in excessive causality.

Jing Rong skimmed through a few pages, about to return the documents to the squad leader, when his gaze suddenly froze on a photograph.

The photo was crystal clear, with excellent color reproduction—the only one that clearly showed the subject’s features. The young man in the picture had his head lowered, his body covered in wounds, his wrists and ankles bearing deep, bloody marks from shackles.

It was both beautiful and horrifying.

But Jing Rong felt little reaction.

He suffered from severe prosopagnosia—his ability to perceive human or humanoid features was virtually nonexistent.

What caught his eye was the wild mane of fiery red hair. Even the cold prison light couldn’t dull that blazing crimson.

Across countless worlds he had visited, he had never seen such a hair color.