"Agh! Aaagh—" Pang Jun shrieked from the chair, his obese frame thrashing violently for seven or eight seconds before gradually subsiding.
"I... I'm not dead?" Panting, he looked down. The bullet had struck his right arm. Strangely, the wound wasn't bleeding—only a small, deep black hole remained.
Then Pang Jun's right arm began to melt. Then ferment. Finally, with wet gurgling sounds, it transformed into a massive tumorous mass that splorch spat out the bullet.
Seconds later, the arm slowly returned to normal.
The other three watched all of this in silence.
Officer Huang holstered his weapon. "Pang Jun, that arm is definitely beast. No such bodily transformation ability exists in any talent index I've seen." He rubbed his temple with his thumb, frowning. "But you, as a person, are still human."
"'Still'?" Pang Jun deflated slightly.
Officer Huang sighed, turning to Gao Yang. "Your thoughts?"
"Brother Yang! Brother Yang, save me..." Pang Jun was near tears. "I know you won't abandon me. You even saved Brother Kai, didn't you? How could you bear to kill me!"
"We're not killing him yet," Gao Yang said.
"Why not?" Wang Zikai looked disappointed. "This kid's useless. Might as well finish him off."
"How am I useless!" Pang Jun protested. "I'm way more useful than you! You—you—" He still couldn't bring himself to say "Lost One."
Gao Yang looked at Pang Jun. "His arm transformed after being bitten by that white cat. If the transformation eventually infects his entire body, we can kill him then. But if it's limited to the arm, Pang Jun is more valuable alive."
"Yes, yes, exactly!" Pang Jun's survival instinct kicked in. "I can heal! I'm the team's only healer! I have value!"
Officer Huang considered briefly. "Fine. Keep him tied up. Observe for a few days."
Then he turned to Wang Zikai. "I'm entrusting you with this glorious and arduous mission. Food and drink provided. Don't starve him."
"No problem." Wang Zikai thumped his chest, grinning mischievously. "I'll take good care of him!"
...
The three left the underground garage and returned to the living room.
Before they knew it, it was nearly 5 AM. Dawn approached. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the bustling river glittered as morning light gradually painted the gray-green water in soft pink hues. The three sat in lounge chairs, drinking beer, watching the transformation.
After discussion, Officer Huang concluded, "Pang Jun's situation is unprecedented for me. But he shouldn't be a beast. At least not yet."
"Was that biting white cat a beast?" Gao Yang pondered aloud. "I thought beasts only disguised themselves as humans. Are there animal forms too? Also, can some beasts infect you through bites? Like zombies?"
"Unclear." Officer Huang shook his head. "The organization's contact once hinted that there are far more than just Chī and Chēn beasts in this world... What we know is merely the tip of the iceberg."
At this, Officer Huang glanced sideways at Wang Zikai.
Wang Zikai had been too excited all night. After his partial beast transformation and combat earlier, he was now exhausted, curled up in the sofa asleep and snoring.
"Your friend here... may be a new type of Chī beast."
Gao Yang nodded.
He'd noticed too. Wang Zikai was quite different from Old Man Liu.
Old Man Liu automatically filtered and ignored any linguistic information related to "beasts." How visual information or personal experiences involving beasts affected him remained unclear, but Officer Huang deduced that such stimuli would likely trigger a "Lost One" to rampage and transform.
But this Wang Zikai—whether linguistic information, visual information, or personal experiences related to beasts—none of it was filtered. Yet he didn't rampage either. Instead, he directly memorized, understood, and rationalized everything. Simply put, he never considered himself a beast, firmly believing himself human. Could all this truly be because of his low intelligence?
"I don't know if it's my imagination." Officer Huang gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Since meeting you, I feel the world growing increasingly unsafe. Some delicate balance seems to be breaking. Things appear to be developing toward chaos. In all my years as an Awakened, this is the first time I've felt this way."
"..." Gao Yang didn't know what to say.
"I've encountered quite a few Awakened over the years." Officer Huang produced his cigarette case. "Some strong, some weak. Some reckless, some cautious. Some deranged, some cold-blooded..."
He narrowed his eyes. "But most of them died. For various reasons."
Gao Yang remained silent, waiting.
"You're different." Officer Huang looked at Gao Yang. "You kid, you have a special quality."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I think you'll live a very long time."
"Really?" Gao Yang liked the sound of that. Honestly, he feared death terribly. Death meant nothingness. But life always held hope.
"So... I consider myself in danger." Officer Huang's voice dropped.
"Why?"
"I loved comics as a child. Those who live long are usually protagonists. But people around protagonists tend to die young..."
Gao Yang sweated inwardly: That actually makes sense. I can't even argue. I am different from others. First, I transmigrated into this world. Second, I obtained this miraculous system upon Awakening. Shamelessly speaking, calling this a "protagonist halo" wouldn't be excessive. But maybe this is just survivorship bias. Perhaps there are thousands of "transmigrators." I'm not the first, nor the last...
His thoughts wandered.
Officer Huang stood. "Decision made. I'll try to keep my distance from you going forward."
"Huh?" Gao Yang was shocked. "Officer Huang, don't abandon me."
"Nothing that dramatic." Officer Huang took a drag, smiling enigmatically. "I mean we need to join the organization as soon as possible. That way, you'll have more companions around you. From a probability standpoint, my risk of getting killed off will be effectively distributed."
Gao Yang was speechless: Uncle, you're the real transmigrator here!
Officer Huang produced a notepad and pen, quickly writing down a time and address. "Tonight at midnight. You and Qing Ling come together. I'll take you to the interview."
"Got it!" Gao Yang accepted the slip.
...
Gao Yang napped briefly at Wang Zikai's place before heading to school.
Wang Zikai remained to guard Pang Jun and continue cultivating. Because of his sudden "power explosion" last night, Wang Zikai believed this demonstrated cultivation results. Now highly motivated, it seemed Gao Yang could deceive him into behaving for a few more days.
After morning self-study, Gao Yang asked Wan Sisi, the English class representative, about several English problems on the rooftop. She was flattered, happily explaining the solutions. After finishing, Wan Sisi took the opportunity to invite Gao Yang to lunch—with other classmates, of course.
Gao Yang accepted readily, spending a "rather pleasant" lunch with several students. Everyone believed his previous antisocial behavior stemmed from grieving Li Weiwei's death too deeply.
Nothing happened in the afternoon.
Nothing happened during evening self-study.
After evening self-study ended, Gao Yang and Qing Ling met in the alley near school—their usual rendezvous point. Upon seeing her, Gao Yang began removing his clothes.
"Not necessary," Qing Ling said.
"No disguise today?" Gao Yang was surprised.
"No." Qing Ling glanced at the slip. "The location is 121 Huangsong Street, Feiyang District. Too far. Must cross the bridge. We can't walk."
"Then what?"
Qing Ling thought. "We'll take the last subway train. Openly."
"Fine."
They exited the alley. Qing Ling looped her arms around Gao Yang's arm, resting her head on his shoulder—a picture of dependent affection. "We'll pretend to be students in a secret romance. Behaviorally reasonable."
"Okay." Gao Yang had no objections. Honestly, surrounded by beasts on all sides, being held by a devastatingly attractive female bodyguard with astronomical combat power provided solid security.
They rode the subway for half an hour, exited, and arrived at Feiyang District on the west bank of the river. Then they walked another twenty minutes through the night. Along the way, Qing Ling bought malatang at a late-night food street—she really loved malatang!
Huangsong Street was an old urban area slated for demolition. Both sides of the street were lined with two-to three-story low concrete buildings. Outdated shops had closed early. The road, unmaintained for years, was pockmarked with potholes. Few streetlamps worked; presumably the security cameras were "broken" too.
They followed the address numbers and quickly found 121.
An unremarkable small storefront. Half-lowered rusty roll-up shutter. Inside hung an old-fashioned blue cloth. Behind the cloth, fluorescent lights flickered. Sounds of combat and explosions drifted out—vintage street arcade machines were visible.
"Didn't expect these arcades still existed." Gao Yang had loved these places as a child. For fifty cents, you could kill half a day there. Of course, his skills were atrocious—he mainly stood behind older kids watching them clear games on a single coin. Thinking back, weren't those the original gaming streamers?
"Let's go." Qing Ling put on her mask.
"Wait." Gao Yang stopped her.
"What?"
"Give me a song first."