Chapter 10

Chapter 10

“He’s pregnant?!”

Had an egg actually begun incubating?

Zhang Yu reeled in shock. There’d been no indication these past two days, so he had assumed nothing had happened.

“Affirmative, Host,” System 9527 replied.

“As the host is non-human, I’ve cross-referenced the main system database and found some lifeforms analogous to the host’s base morphology. Based on the reproductive habits of these creatures, He Xu may exhibit physiological dependency on the host due to hormonal changes after pregnancy. This dependence will last until childbirth and may fade as hormone levels decrease afterward…”

The mechanical voice maintained its usual flat tone, droning in his consciousness, but Zhang Yu could no longer hear it.

He stared at the person doubled over the sink, his black irises expanding slightly.

He Xu had been heaving for what felt like ages now. Though nothing came up, the irritation left his nose red and his eyes shimmering with trapped tears.

Some unidentifiable scent had begun emanating from him—subtle yet pervasive, worming its way into Zhang Yu’s nostrils.

From the moment he stepped in here, Zhang Yu had felt an inexplicable agitation, but he hadn’t understood what it meant.

Only now, after being told by the system that He Xu was pregnant, did he suddenly realize—the agitation he felt was due to pheromones thick in the air, emitted by He Xu, perceptible to him alone and meant solely for him.

The shroud of inexperience that had obscured his subconscious was finally torn away.

Instinctively, Zhang Yu understood—this was the signal from the carrier of the eggs, now in incubation, calling to him.

He needed energy.

His skin rippled with a faint bioluminescence as Zhang Yu turned and swiftly left.

As his footsteps faded, the cloying marine odor in the air seemed to dissipate as well.

He Xu gradually stopped retching. Drawing ragged breaths, he turned on the faucet and splashed water on his face before raising his head to stare at his reflection.

The person in the mirror was drenched and dripping, eyes bloodshot, brows furrowed in discomfort—his entire demeanor exuding vulnerability.

When had he ever seen himself like this?

His hand suddenly lashed out, water smacking against the glass with a sharp slap before sliding down, shattering his mirrored image into broken fragments.

He Xu clenched his fist and drove it into the porcelain!

It was all because of that damned monster!

He could never forget what that creature had done to him that night.

Those revolting cephalopod limbs had mapped his body with invasive precision, pumping him full of viscous, alien ova.

After returning home that night, He Xu had knelt on the floor, fingers shaking violently as he attempted extraction.

It took nearly two hours before he finally felt less bloated. But when he looked at the eggs he’d extracted, he realized most had already ruptured within that short time, chartreuse ichor spreading across the bathroom floor.

Ice water flooded his veins as he paled, realizing that many of the eggs must have already burst inside him before he could remove them.

For a moment, he wanted to slice open his stomach and rip out all his intestines just to be rid of them!

Though no xenomorphic nightmares erupted from his gut afterward, he hadn’t slept well since. Every time he drifted off, he’d jolt awake soon after, certain some unseen thing was skittering across his flesh beneath the sheets.

The memory of that night also resurfaced in his dreams, bringing with it a clinging, parasitic terror.

Fortunately, as time passed, those nightmares grew fewer, and the fear gradually faded.

That monster probably wouldn’t show up again. He Xu told himself. Even if it did, it would only be in isolated zones like that derelict worksite. As long as he avoided remote areas from now on, he’d be fine.

Scrubbing at his face, He Xu forced himself to calm down. After drying his hands, he emerged from the bathroom.

Outside the restroom door, the left wall loomed close, but about a meter away was a narrow door leading to a storage closet. Normally, anyone exiting would turn right without a second glance at that door.

He Xu had never paid it any mind before either, but this time, as he left, his eyes were inexplicably drawn to it.

At a glance, he froze.

The storage closet door, usually tightly shut, was now slightly ajar. An inky fissure of darkness gaped within, and muffled, organic sounds oozed forth—like something massive shifting inside.

He Xu narrowed his eyes, trying to see more clearly, but suddenly, his eyes blew wide with primal terror. Every follicle on his body screamed to life as he spun to flee—

Only for a thick tentacle to lash out from the gap, coiling around his ankle and snatching him backward with predatory violence!

He Xu crashed onto the tiled floor, knees slamming hard. A choked sound burst from his throat, but he ignored the pain, bucking wildly against the restraint. “Get off! Stay the hell away from—mmph!”

More tentacles followed, winding around his limbs and sealing his mouth, gagging his enraged protests.

He Xu thrashed wildly, but the tentacles’ power was absolute. In seconds, he was dragged into the lightless storage closet.

Bang!

The door slammed shut, and the hallway fell silent once more.

……

“Mmmph! Let—mmph—go!”

Inside the storage room, He Xu managed to wrench an arm free from the writhing mass of tentacles, corded muscles standing out as he fought for the exit.

Just as his fingertips brushed the handle, a glistening obsidian tendril lashed around his wrist, wrenching his arm back with inhuman strength and pinning it above his head.

His eyes widened as he was suspended like a marionette, soles just brushing the tile—until another tentacle seized his ankle, flipping him backward until he hung suspended, arched midair.

The tentacle covering his mouth loosened slightly, and he seized the chance to shout—only for the sound to be smothered again as the monster shoved another tentacle into his mouth!

Flashbacks of the previous violation seared through his cortex. Panic flared as He Xu bit down hard, trying to force it out—but the tentacle didn’t even flinch. After a brief pause, it pushed deeper.

Slick with mucus, it slid past his clenched teeth effortlessly, driving straight to the back of his throat. A viscous, narcotic secretion flooded forth, filling his mouth mercilessly.

“Ghk—cough! Cough!”

He Xu gagged, throat convulsing as he was forced to swallow. His eyes reddened uncontrollably.

That familiar heat surged through him again. He Xu fought wildly, abdominal muscles taut as he twisted to evade the encroaching tentacles.

But bound as he was, his struggles were futile. Soon, every defense crumbled.

Faint light seeped through the door crack, casting the intertwined shadows of human and monster onto the wall.

In the dim glow, countless tentacles writhed, ensnaring the human in an inescapable web. Like prey caught in a deep-sea predator’s grasp, his desperate thrashing only made the threads tremble faintly.

Until the hunter had him completely bound, venomous teeth piercing his body, dissolving and injecting, did he finally find release.

...

The night grew deeper, and the crowd in the mall gradually dispersed. The noise in the arcade slowly faded, leaving only the tireless electronic sounds of machines echoing.

Outside the men’s restroom, Sun Ran stuck his head in. “Chief?”

Seeing no one by the urinals, he called again, “Chief, are you in there?!”

The restroom was silent, save for the hum of the exhaust fan.

“Did he already go back?” Sun Ran scratched the back of his head.

From outside came Yu Ling’s shout, “Sunny boy, did you find him?”

“Shut up, Ling you jerk! Stop messing with me!” Sun Ran reflexively snapped before adding, “No, the boss isn’t here!”

As soon as he finished speaking, a faint noise came from beside him.

Sun Ran turned his head and realized the sound came from the small door next to him.

The storage room? He froze.

Yu Ling called again, “Then stop looking. The boss must’ve gone back already.”

A Yuan chimed in, “Yeah, Brother Ran, doesn’t the boss leave early often?”

Sun Ran glanced at the storage room door.

Only that one soft sound had come from inside, and then there was silence again, as if it had just been his imagination.

Meanwhile, Yu Ling kept shouting, “Hurry up! The mall’s about to close. You wanna stay here overnight? If you’re really worried, just call the boss, okay? Mama Ran?!”

A burst of laughter followed. His eye twitched on Sun Ran’s forehead. “Shut your mouth, Ling you jerk! You wanna get beat?!”

This storage room was always closed—how could anyone be inside? He must’ve misheard.

Sun Ran turned away and ran toward the others waiting nearby.

...

As the footsteps faded away, inside the storage room, Zhang Yu tightened his Transfer Limb, wrapping his captive even more securely.

“…Nngh!”

The human in his embrace let out a shuddering moan, their breathing hitching with faint shudders. Though they couldn’t see anything in the darkness, their eyes were still wide open, as if trying to show defiance.

Unfortunately, their eyes were brimming with tears, shimmering like disturbed water, droplets rolling down one after another.

Their face was streaked with tear tracks, and they kept hiccuping, looking pitiful yet endearing—though the owner of those eyes remained oblivious, still trying to glare at Zhang Yu with all the fury they could muster.

Amused, Zhang Yu twitched his Transfer Limb, and the human immediately shuddered, a choked, sobbing noise escaping their throat.

Zhang Yu leaned his massive face closer. Below his eyes, where humans have mouths, was a pair of fleshy soft palates—capable of hardening instantly in the ocean to crush tough shells, but now relaxed into a slightly protruding, circular ring of flesh.

As he neared He Xu, his soft palates parted, and a long, slender tongue slipped out.

The tongue was thin, also fleshy, with a rasp-like texture covered in orderly rows of microscopic hooks—perfect for feeding.

The rough appendage flicked in the air before pressing against the man’s face, slowly lapping up the tears.

As Zhang Yu did so, his tongue tasted the saltiness of the tears, along with a faint, distinctive aftertaste.

Sure enough, once he’d replenished enough energy, the man perked right up. Zhang Yu felt pleased.

Remembering how the man had leaned over the sink earlier, gagging painfully, he grew concerned again. Maybe… he should give him a few more eggs?

Instinct told him that once the host began incubating, any excess eggs would automatically dissolve, turning into nutrients to sustain the host. If energy was insufficient, the eggs would drain the host’s own vitality.

He didn’t want He Xu to die so soon—and the system had warned that if He Xu died, he wouldn’t get the Marine Domain.

But…

Zhang Yu applied gentle pressure, and the human immediately trembled, letting out a pained gasp.

Seems like there’s no space left.

Scratching his head with the tip of a tentacle, Zhang Yu thought it over and decided against it.

For some reason, many of the eggs he’d given last time hadn’t dissolved properly, leaving the incubated eggs without enough nutrients—hence the host’s distress signals.

So, he just needed to ensure the eggs fully dissolved.

With that in mind, Zhang Yu retracted his Transfer Limb, switching to a less vital tentacle. Gritting his imaginary teeth, he bit off a small piece to prevent premature nutrient loss again.

To fulfill his mission, this severed tentacle would remain as it was until the nutrition eggs completely dissolved, only then liquefying.

Once done, the giant octopus set the shaking, exhausted human down, opened the storage room door, and casually crawled away.

After he left, the surveillance camera in the corner—hacked by the system for hours—came back online.