Chapter 41

Chapter 41

1

"The struggle between humanity and mutated creatures has reached its most critical juncture."

"As humans evolve, so too does the intensity of mutation in these creatures."

"On this once-beautiful planet, humans and mutants have always fiercely contended for survival."

"Humans, initially possessing an inherent advantage, have gradually lost their initiative over time and must remain ever vigilant, even in times of peace..."

"Our very existence is dedicated to humanity's future. Though our strength may be modest, by uniting towards a common goal, we shall undoubtedly forge our own path to a brighter dawn!"

The massive projection screen displayed a mandatory lesson for every newcomer to the Intelligence Bureau.

Amidst the stirring narration, the screen showcased a breathtaking battle scene.

There were no blood-soaked corpses, no heroic sacrifices in a desperate struggle. Instead, a single, tall, and impeccably poised man, with a mere flick of his finger, annihilated a mutant beast more monstrous than a skyscraper.

The swirling dust, the crumbling ruins, and the man's cold, serene gaze as he turned, together painted the most profoundly impactful image of the apocalypse.

"I must become as powerful as Captain Wang!"

A red-haired youth, eyes bright with fervor, clenched his fists, gazing intently at the figure on the projection screen.

The eyes of others also sparkled with clear, bright admiration.

No one was immune to Wang Qiu's charisma.

Indeed, it could be said that every newcomer joined the Intelligence Bureau because of Wang Qiu.

The man who, at sixteen, defended humanity's front lines and has continued to fight for fourteen years, has long been revered as the bedrock of the Intelligence Bureau and a "god" in the eyes of countless new recruits.

"For humanity's tomorrow!" the youth passionately declared.

"For tomorrow!"

The instructor on the podium observed the enthusiastic new recruits before him, his eyes filled with satisfaction and pride.

——

At this moment, the Misty Forest was enveloped in a dense fog, a gray haze permeated with the acrid scent of blood.

A young team member, clutching his injured arm, addressed Wang Qiu, "Captain Wang, perhaps we should withdraw for now."

The mutant creature, codenamed D798, was a two-headed wolf. They had been locked in combat with it for three days.

In the thick fog, visibility was severely limited, making it impossible to discern the creature's movements.

Crucially, it was a pregnant she-wolf, fighting with desperate ferocity to protect her unborn pups.

The young team member felt a pang of reluctance. Throughout the three-day struggle, the wolf had been constantly fleeing, making them feel more like relentless, cruel aggressors.

Amidst the pungent smell of blood, a towering two-headed wolf on the opposite side glared fiercely, its eyes wide with rage, at a man standing in the fog.

The man's figure was indistinct, only his tall, upright silhouette visible.

The two-headed wolf had barely any intact flesh left on its body, its highly swollen abdomen revealing it was a mother with vulnerabilities.

The Intelligence Bureau's mission was to capture the mutant two-headed wolf codenamed D798. If live capture proved impossible, its carcass was to be retrieved.

After three days of pursuit, the two-headed wolf was on its last legs, but for the sake of its offspring, it would fight to the death until the very end.

The two-headed wolf raised its head and let out a piercing howl, thick blood dripping from its fangs. It glared viciously at the man in the fog and charged at him with a final, desperate burst of strength.

"Captain Wang!"

With a swift "thwip," a golden light pierced through the two-headed wolf's head, sending a spray of blood into the air.

Wang Qiu withdrew his hand, a blood-stained ring now on his finger.

He looked down impassively at the two-headed wolf, its eyes wide open in death, and said emotionlessly, "Retrieve the body of mutant D798 for cataloging."

The gray fog gradually dissipated, but the pungent smell of blood grew even stronger.

The scene fell into complete silence.

After a long moment, someone finally spoke, looking at Wang Qiu's cold face, "Yes."

——

On the spacious square, a shout erupted: "External Operations Team 1 is back!"

Rows of newcomers, carrying their belongings and preparing to return to their dormitories, dropped everything and rushed outside, crowding at the entrance to catch a glimpse.

On the broad road ahead, a modified large truck emerged over the slope against the backdrop of the setting sun on the horizon.

A flag bearing a thorny flower, stained with blood, fluttered vigorously at the front of the vehicle, imbued with the heroic spirit of a triumphant return.

"It's Captain Wang's truck!"

"Captain Wang!"

"Captain Wang!"

The tremendously enthusiastic shouts, filled with youthful passion, even drew Director Wu of the Linyu Branch of the Intelligence Bureau to stand in the hallway. Watching the returning vehicle, he remarked, "Wang Qiu's appeal is as strong as ever."

Assistant Li, standing beside him, glanced at the director's smiling expression, unsure of his thoughts, and carefully offered, "Director Wu is right, but it's also a testament to the excellent training provided by the Intelligence Bureau."

Director Wu smiled but said nothing.

"Captain Wang!"

As the door opened, the deafening shouts reached their peak.

Under the intense gaze, a man wearing a tight combat suit and black military pants stepped out, his booted leg leading the way before he straightened up to reveal his tall, upright figure.

Standing at 187 centimeters, he already exuded immense presence, but his sharply defined features and clear-cut contours added to his stern demeanor.

He was tall, imposing, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and well-defined muscles, making him exceptionally handsome and commanding.

Encased in his combat suit, his tight muscles were particularly striking, and his legs were astonishingly long.

However, that slender, imposing physique wasn't just for show—it was honed through round-the-clock rigorous training.

It was said that those straight, long legs could kick down a tree thick enough to require two people to embrace.

In today's ecological environment of "survival of the fittest," human bodies have undergone unprecedented evolution, with a small minority even gaining transcendent superpowers.

The admiration everyone holds for Wang Qiu is far more than just superficial worship of his mythologized persona.

It is rooted in his raw, formidable power.

He is the only person to date who has awakened dual abilities.

Awakening an ability already puts someone in a league of their own, let alone possessing two.

One of these abilities is an air manipulation ability whose "breadth" and "depth" remain immeasurable to this day.

In simpler terms, as long as there is air in this world, Wang Qiu can harness it for his own use.

However, this ability is incredibly destructive and consumes a vast amount of mental stamina, so Wang Qiu rarely uses it, which only adds to its mystique.

In contrast, his other ability is more widely known and frequently used—his second ability: metal manipulation.

Anything related to metal can be transformed into his weapon.

This is why Wang Qiu is different from others; he doesn’t need to carry weapons. His weapons can be his earrings, his ring, or any clasp or badge on his clothing.

It is precisely because of Wang Qiu’s extraordinary strength and talent that the Intelligence Bureau recruited him from the underground city at the age of fifteen.

At sixteen, he made his mark in his first battle, embarking on a combat career that has now spanned fourteen years.

Now thirty years old, Wang Qiu still exudes a razor-sharp, intimidating presence, even more cold and powerful than in his earlier, more overtly aggressive days. A single distant glance from him is enough to strike fear.

Such a Wang Qiu is both admired and envied.

Those who once scrounged for scraps with him in the underground city envy his overnight rise.

They envy his early "success," envy that he no longer has to endure hunger in the ruins, and envy that he has become someone widely revered and looked up to.

His dual abilities, his role as the "steadfast anchor" of External Operations Team 1, and his status as the "living weapon" cultivated with the full resources of the Intelligence Bureau—each of these labels alone commands reverence.

These labels collectively come together to form the Wang Qiu everyone sees, the Wang Qiu everyone expects, and the Wang Qiu now before them.

Amid the roaring cheers, Wang Qiu glanced at the countless shining eyes and took a step forward, face blank.

His dark eyes were like frozen-over ponds, devoid of any lively emotion.

He sees this spectacle every year.

In the first year, those eyes ignited something in him; by the second year, he began to feel pity for them; by the third year, he no longer felt anything at all.

Now, it’s the fourteenth year.

Recruitment started six months early this year, and the number of new recruits is twice that of last year.

Looking at those eyes filled with passion and aspiration, Wang Qiu knows all too well that these bright eyes are no different from those he’s seen before—they will only become another monochrome snapshot in his memory.

"Captain Wang, I will definitely catch up to you one day!"

The young man’s voice was burning with passion, like an oath of devotion.

Wang Qiu stopped and turned to look at the red-haired youth.

He gazed at the baby-faced youth and asked, "How old are you?"

Wang Qiu’s voice was not gentle; it carried the magnetism of a mature man, perhaps rarely used, with an icy, rough, and low tone.

But the moment he spoke, everyone fell silent, the air so still you could hear a breath. Every pair of bright eyes fixed on him, burning like beacons of fervor.

Among them, the young man’s beacon burned the brightest.

"Sixteen!"

The boy threw out his chest, brimming with proud ambition and untempered boldness.

For a fleeting moment, Wang Qiu’s gaze went distant.

But he quickly averted his gaze, parted his lips, and left behind a cryptic comment.

"Too young."

Everyone watched his receding back, unsure what he meant by those words.

But the excitement of Wang Qiu’s brief pause was enough to overshadow everything.

Especially for the boy who had spoken to him, his face flushed with excitement, fists clenched with determination.

Protecting humanity was his life’s belief, and the Intelligence Bureau was the place where he could fulfill that belief.

He would become the second Wang Qiu!

"I will definitely work hard!"

Wang Qiu continued walking without pause, entering the affairs building with an expressionless face.

2

Just back from the outside, Wang Qiu was still wearing his blood-spattered combat gear.

When he entered the conference room, everyone inside turned to look at him, but no one spoke.

The Deputy Captain beside Wang Qiu glanced at him, then stepped forward to report on the situation in the Misty Forest and the capture of the D798 mutant.

The people in the room held ranks ranging from Subbureau Deputy Director to the highest, the Deputy Director General from the headquarters. The Deputy Captain was courteous, but Wang Qiu remained rooted by the doorway throughout.

After hearing the Deputy Captain’s report, the Deputy Director General nodded in satisfaction and said, "Thank you for your hard work, Captain Wang."

Then, he slid forth a dossier but did not hand it to the Deputy Captain. Instead, he looked directly at Wang Qiu.

This indicated the document was of high importance.

The Deputy Captain took his cue and left, closing the conference room door behind him.

"This is the dossier on special variant T39. Headquarters hopes to capture T39 within one month. Captain Wang, do you have any objections?"

"None."

Wang Qiu stood by the door, his tone indifferent.

The Deputy Director General said with satisfaction, "Captain Wang has always been the pillar of the Intelligence Bureau. Thanks to him over the years, research efforts at Chaoyang Laboratory have advanced, and people’s safety has been ensured."

Fifteen years ago, headquarters established Chaoyang Laboratory and began capturing mutants in large numbers for research, aiming to better understand their traits and commonalities. Cataloging them was meant to help humanity better mount defenses.

After all, aside from superhumans, the world is mostly made up of ordinary folks.

During this time, Chaoyang Laboratory has indeed declassified findings on some mutants, helping ordinary people gain fundamental means of self-protection.

In people's minds, Chaoyang Laboratory now holds a high standing.

Chaoyang Laboratory has gone from being dependent to now on equal footing with the Intelligence Bureau, even a symbiotic one.

Wang Qiu’s expression was calm as he said without emotion, "This is all part of my duty."

He was like a block of ice—no emotion or soul, perfect and powerful, yet completely colorless.

The Deputy Director General smiled and looked Wang Qiu in the eyes as he asked, "I wonder how Captain Wang’s mental state has been lately."

At that, the atmosphere in the conference room shifted a little.

Wang Qiu’s eyes shifted slightly as he looked over.

His eyes were not pure black but a blue deeper than the deep sea.

They were cat-like eyes.

Yet, they held none of a cat’s liveliness or agility—only a bottomless cold and indifference.

When one looked into them, it felt as if they concealed a suppressed, tidal wave intensity, ready to engulf the shore, full of danger, while the surface calm was just the tip of the iceberg.

Wang Qiu remained silent, but the Subbureau Deputy Director, who had been leaning back in his chair, sat up straight, his expression darkening.

Director Wu said with a chuckle, "It’s stable enough for now."

"Good, that’s reassuring."

The Deputy Director General sat back, showing the attitude of someone in a position of authority.

"I see there are quite a few promising new recruits in this batch. Director Wu, you must nurture them well and get the list in as soon as possible. Perhaps the next Captain Wang will emerge from among them," the Deputy Director General said with a kindly smile, though his words carried deeper implications.

Director Wu’s expression remained unchanged as he replied with a smile, "Naturally, we will organize the personnel files promptly and try to send the list to the headquarters within a month."

"A month is too long."

There was a silence for a moment.

The ambiguous words seemed to carry a poisonous hint, making the atmosphere more oppressive.

Wang Qiu remained still, his face expressionless.

Director Wu lowered his gaze, his smile still in place, and said, "Within half a month, the Linyu Branch will get the list to the headquarters."

"As soon as possible," the Deputy Director General said as he stood up. Passing by Wang Qiu, he handed him the file on T39 and added, "Captain Wang, you’ve had a long day. Head back and rest early."

After saying this, the Deputy Director General smiled again and said, "I’ve always had high hopes for you, Captain Wang. The headquarters has always remembered your hard work and contributions over the years. I hope you won’t let the headquarters down and complete this task as quickly as possible."

With these words, the Deputy Director General walked leisurely out the door.

Wang Qiu moved aside to make way, his gaze calm and fixed straight ahead. He did not look back or speak.

The Subbureau Deputy Director’s expression was dark, even ugly, but Director Wu spoke first, "Wang Qiu, go back and rest for now."

"Yes."

Wang Qiu turned and walked out of the conference room. Immediately, the muffled sounds of argument from Director Wu and the Subbureau Deputy Director could be heard from inside, their tense, arguing voices.

He left expressionlessly, not listening to the voices or the secrets they might hold.

Outside, the sky had already darkened. A cool wind blew, and the surroundings were deserted and quiet.

Dressed in his combat uniform, Wang Qiu carried an air of seriousness, like a proud, lone rose tinged with the smell of blood.

The broken streetlight outside still hadn’t been fixed. He stood on the steps for a moment before stepping forward, walking alone into the pitch-dark path ahead.

---

The night was still.

Lying in bed, Wang Qiu frowned deeply.

The sharp smell of blood lingered, filling the entire room like a red mist.

It was as if Wang Qiu had fallen into a pitch-black abyss, with blood-red threads tightly binding his body, suffocating him.

A pair of crimson eyes stared fixedly at him from the darkness, filled with undisguised desire.

It was the embodiment of a wild beast, a devil from hell.

Ravenous hunger and depraved lust transformed into tentacles that climbed up his thighs, entwining his naked body.

Wang Qiu could not break free, as if trapped in a muddy, damp swamp.

He seemed to have become prey to those eyes, their malice and greed devouring his body openly and voraciously.

Wang Qiu’s eyes snapped open, staring into the empty, dim room.

His chest heaved with each labored breath, his clothes clinging to his body, soaked in sweat and feeling hot and sticky.

He sat up, throwing off the covers. The empty room held no slimy tentacles or damp swamp—only cold air. Yet, the sensation of restraint and stifling heat did not ease; instead, it grew increasingly intense.

The air around him grew heavy. He grabbed the cup from the bedside table and drank large gulps of water, the spilled droplets tracing his smooth chin and sliding down his Adam’s apple as it bobbed.

Even after finishing the water, his body continued to sweat profusely, drenching his clothes and outlining his firm muscles and subtly visible physique.

Itchiness, thirst, and hunger—an endless emptiness—threatened to turn Wang Qiu into a beast trapped by desire.

He tugged forcefully at his collar and turned toward the bathroom.

Clothes scattered on the floor outside, and the sound of rushing water echoed from the partially closed door.

Wang Qiu braced one hand against the wall, his breathing heavy and ragged.

His cheeks were flushed, his gaze dazed, and his exhales came out hot. His naked body seemed to shed its cold, hard shell, revealing something soft and moist within.

The stern and rigorous Wang Qiu of the daytime revealed another, unknown side of himself in the thick of the night.

He gasped and trembled, allowing the water to flow recklessly over his body.

The air grew increasingly stifling and humid. He reached out and switched the water from hot to cold, but this only slightly eased the heat on his skin. The sensation of countless ants crawling under his skin continued to churn relentlessly within him.

Trembling, he picked up a syringe from the cabinet and without hesitation injected it into his neck. The bulging veins gradually relaxed.

He then let out several heavy breaths, his eyes closed, and tossed the syringe into the trash.

His well-defined hand fell limply, transparent droplets of water dripping from his fingertips.

The drug in the syringe was not meant to cure extreme physical conditions but rather to stimulate the nerves and keep him awake.

It is typically used for torturing criminals under interrogation.

This drug induces excruciating pain with no other purpose.

Yet, for Wang Qiu, it has become the most "effective" "remedy" for his "condition."

Wang Qiu stood there for a long moment, the intense pain barely suppressing the hollow, unbearable torment within him.

He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the steam-fogged mirror, the flush on his face not yet fully faded.

At some point, he had lost touch with basic emotions like joy, anger, or sorrow.

He functioned like an emotionless robot, completing one mission after another as required by the Intelligence Bureau.

Day after day, he watched the sun rise and set, yet he could no longer tell today apart from tomorrow.

Like a spinning top, he felt deafened and blinded, trapped in an endless cycle of numbness and exhaustion.

Occasionally, he experienced the fleeting adrenaline rush during combat, but it was gone in an instant, leaving behind an even deeper void.

He didn't understand what was happening to him.

It felt as though a hole had been torn open inside him—a void that could hold nothing, retain nothing, whistling with emptiness.

Over time, this void only grew darker and more destructive, like a bottomless pit threatening to devour him.

After every mission, this torment would gnaw at his insides, consuming him.

Sometimes, in the dead of night, it would swallow his rationality and consciousness entirely, making him a monster driven by emptiness.

Wang Qiu could only rely on physical pain to alleviate this suffering.

But it was always a temporary relief, like drinking poison to quench thirst.

He began to wonder if he was "sick," if he was falling apart.

Because he could feel something restrained and suppressed festering inside him—the longer he held it back, the more the inner beast grew, waiting for the day it would tear him apart and consume him.

The cold steam dissipated the humid mist on the mirror, revealing Wang Qiu's disheveled appearance.

He lifted his head, closed his eyes, and let the icy water drench his skin, chilling it to a deathly, rigid pallor.

Finally, he looked down at his trembling hands, his expression cold and detached, realizing that even his mental strength was on the verge of collapse.