Chapter 24: High-Risk Experimental Subject

Chapter 24: High-Risk Experimental Subject

Jue had no habit of eating sweets or cookies—such supplies were uncommon for him.

During wartime, sugar was one of the most crucial strategic resources. A lump of white sugar could be traded for a child or a woman, and a can of sugar syrup could save a starving person on the brink of death after four days without food.

He had never developed a taste for such things. Even when he occasionally obtained them, he would distribute them among his subordinates or younger children.

Jing Rong lay quietly on the ground, recalling the words of the children from earlier that day.

"My mom said the leader is amazing. Back then, the guerrilla forces on the western front were depleted of ammunition and supplies, but the leader said he was young and harder to spot, so he could go out and salvage supplies from corpse piles."

"He brought back so many useful things—used bandages, scraps of metal, all saved up to be melted down later. He saved enough people to form a whole commando unit."

626 traced the timeline based on the children's descriptions.

Jue was a little older than in the last memory Jing Rong had seen—a bit taller, though not by much, but noticeably thinner.

His red hair was hacked unevenly, his military uniform covered in patches, but the fabric below the knees was worn through, revealing gaunt, pallid legs.

Like a restless ghost, he drifted across the decaying, desolate, scorched earth, carrying supplies twice his size day and night.

As an SSS-class, he was safer, more resistant to hunger, and could go longer without food. He had eaten everything—tree bark, burnt dirt, carrion crow meat.

Long ago, he had suppressed his body's needs for ordinary sustenance.

Especially in the lab.

He desired everything, greedily seizing every opportunity, devoid of emotion or hesitation. On the battlefield, he learned the Orlk language. During every experiment, his blue eyes calmly observed the descent of each needle, absorbed every scrap of information from the researchers' casual comments, then relayed everything.

He, too, had turned himself into a tool.

Jing Rong said, "I made these. They're not too sweet—I extracted syrup from a fruit on your snowy mountains."

Seeing Jue finish, Jing Rong reached out again, offering the rest, feeding him piece by piece.

Jue kept his eyes closed, silent, slowly chewing the second cookie before murmuring, "'M done, brother."

"Alright." Jing Rong didn’t press. Just as he was about to take the plate away, Jue’s hand closed around his wrist.

"Brother, leave these for me."

Jue’s eyes remained shut, fleeting glints beneath his lashes. "It feels like I’m dreaming."

This dream was far better than anything he could have imagined.

Jing Rong said, "Alright. Keep them. I’ll make more later. There’ll be many flavors."

Jing Rong added, "Remember? We’ll go to Orkvelk together."

*

Their affairs in Jiek Town were swiftly settled.

Youtier would accompany them on the armored train to the western front, while the town’s matters were left to the blacksmith they had met earlier.

This winter, they would quickly recuperate, then use their Jiek Town playbook—liberating and occupying more war zones, expanding their influence endlessly. Their goal was to save as many as possible, building bargaining power for a ceasefire.

And they had to move fast.

Once winter passed, the Orlks would repair the railways and come back stronger.

"Just follow the method I taught you. Keep the boiler at proper temp."

Inside the train’s cab, Jing Rong walked the soldiers through operating the locomotive, hands-on. Jue listened nearby.

In seventy-two hours, they would cross the entire western front, reaching the farthest edge of the conflict zone—Bividok. Beyond that, the mountains would be sealed by snow.

The further west they went, the thinner the fighting became. Most Orlk soldiers had already pulled back from the front, and this winter, the Arbiters wouldn’t descend.

"The Orlk Empire still has many experimental weapons. Avoid direct combat, especially their airborne weapons."

Jue unfolded the map, going over details with Youtier, who would disembark at the next stop. "Build underground shelters. Their surveillance is limited in winter, but come spring, it’ll be ineffective. Wait for my return."

"We’ll be waiting for you, sir."

Youtier snapped a salute, then hesitated. He glanced at Jing Rong by the window.

The black-haired, black-eyed Arbiter had just settled down, taking a drag from his cigarette as he listened to the radio.

Youtier lowered his voice, asking Jue, "Won’t that gentleman be returning with you?"

Jue froze.

He hadn’t considered that.

By status, Jing Rong was a prince of the Orlk Empire. With the former crown prince, Rynce, severely wounded and his mental faculties crippled, who would be the next heir was obvious even to a child.

Nothing in this world could bind that man. He was unpredictable. Jue might hold his interest for now, might keep him temporarily—but for how long?

Jue’s fingers flexed unconsciously before clenching into a fist.

A leader could not tolerate things getting away from his control.

A leader could not allow the one he had chosen to have even the possibility of leaving.

But with Jing Rong, he didn’t know what to do.

The train rumbled onward, its whistle echoing far into the distance.

The next stop was two hundred kilometers straight west of Jiek Town. Youtier and his newly formed unit disembarked there.

Jing Rong handed Youtier a vial of quick-made remedy. "Use this daily—just a drop in each eye. If it heals well, you won’t need surgery for the eye condition."

Youtier held onto the doorframe, nodding at them. After a long look at Jing Rong, he leapt onto the platform.

The others gradually disembarked as well.

Jue remained by the door, gazing out through the thick window glass.

Though the fighting grew sparser westward, they'd still see combat.

Jing Rong said, "Easy. We're good."

Adjusting his headphones, he monitored the Orlk Empire’s channels—tapped into all along by 626. "They think the war train’s track damage was caused by a landslide from a major earthquake. Our movements are safe for now."

Jue nodded, some tension draining away from his shoulders.

The carriage was now empty except for the two of them.

On the table sat a new batch of Jing Rong’s ginger cookies. Jing Rong leaned with folded arms, head bowed, ears glued to the radio, occasionally making notes on the map with his pen.

Jue picked up a piece of gingerbread and put it in his mouth.

Today's gingerbread was infused with cocoa powder and chocolate, and for a moment, he was transported back by a familiar scent.

Jing Rong looked up and gave him a smile.

Jue suddenly remembered—this was the daily aroma of the capital outpost. The fragrance of coffee, the warmth of the crackling hearth.

Jue opened his mouth and said, "Brother... I..."

He wanted to ask him if, after visiting Oakvilk, he would still be willing to come back with him.

Though the people of Flaming Isle were poor and backward, even as their leader, he was just as poor, with nothing to his name—he would offer everything he had for him.

Jue didn't voice the question. He gazed intently at Jing Rong's face, where the Arbiter's smile was irresistibly captivating. The winter sun streamed through the window, streaking across him in bands.

His fist tightened once more.

Better not to ask.

He would hide a pair of shackles, a chain, to seize this man outright and haul him back to his side. He wanted those smiles reserved for him alone, those quiet, dark eyes to never look at another for the rest of his life.