EM CH9

Chapter 9: More Ways to Discipline Subordinates

Yu An buried himself beneath the quilt. His hands, feet, and knees were icy cold, leaving him no choice but to curl up together for warmth. The bitter cold of deep winter always became a tangible suffering, against which the air conditioner offered minimal relief.

In the dead silence of the night, Yu An heard the breathing behind him transition from heavy and ragged to calm and steady. The interviewer had probably cooled off and fallen asleep.

If it were an ordinary person, suffering such severe injuries and fleeing through half the night would have caused them to collapse long ago. The interviewer possessed far more stamina than an average person.

Yu An tried his best to close his eyes and urge himself to sleep, but his mind was in utter chaos. Previously, only when pondering experimental data would he suffer sleepless nights like this: thinking incessantly, eager to put theory into practice.

There had been a question in his heart that Yu An had considered for a long time: the question of why he couldn’t make a move on the interviewer.

Why couldn’t he? Could the interviewer really guarantee that he was completely innocent, that he hadn’t used a single deceitful trick during recruitment?

A wicked person gets felt up by an even more wicked one. I am the wicked one, so I will feel him up first. A touch won’t break him, and not touching him is a waste of a free opportunity.

Approaching midday, sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains and fell upon his eyes. Yu An fluttered his eyelids. He had slept so heavily; it had to be around noon by now.

He rolled over, but the sheets beside him were icy cold, which woke him up a bit more.

Yu An stared blankly at the ceiling for a while. For many years now, waking up every morning always meant an empty house. In the past, he could still hear the neighbor walking the dog in the morning, but by now, that neighbor had likely moved away as well.

Stepping out of the bedroom, Yu An rubbed his eyes.

On the dining table sat a plate of freshly baked honey rolls and a cup of hot cocoa. The recently used oven and utensils in the kitchen had already been wiped spotless.

The luggage and clutter piled up in the living room had been organized in meticulous order. Books and tools were sorted neatly into categories, and even the carpet had been vacuumed clean of every speck of dust.

The dead corners beneath the coffee table and sofa had also been swept completely clean.

Was this the interviewer’s doing? He didn’t look like a neat freak either.

Besides, for an old house that hadn’t been cleaned in four years, even hiring two cleaners would take an entire day of hard labor. How on earth did he pull it off?

Looking solely at the exquisite honey croissants on the table, even for a seasoned pastry chef, kneading dough, calibrating sweetness, shaping, and baking would consume an entire morning.

“Impossible.” Yu An leaned against the doorframe, propping his chin in contemplation, casually picking up a pastry from the plate to take a bite.

So fluffy, so fragrant, simply unbelievable.

Three in the afternoon. Inside the executive lounge at Underground Railway. The big boss, dressed in a traditional long gown, sat before the tea table, casually scalding the teaware.

“The Eagle Bureau gave me a call this morning. One of the mechanical eagles they dispatched for an arrest never returned, and they said your people were behind it. What’s the situation?”

Standing across from the tea table, Zhao Ran said with complete earnestness: “An accident, an absolute accident! That person yesterday was a temporary worker. He actually had the audacity to attack a Peeping Eagle mechanical eagle, so I fired him right on the spot.”

“The eagle? I have no idea which mountain ravine it crashed into either. I’ll have to trouble you to smooth things over with the Eagle Bureau on that front.” Zhao Ran bent down, resting his hands on the tabletop, chuckling in a low voice: “Boss, I recently interviewed an exceptional student. A top talent from Changhui University majoring in precision instruments, named Yu An.”

He presented the resume and internship contract, placing them in front of the boss.

Tea flowed quietly from the spout of the clay teapot into the cup. The boss skimmed through the papers, speaking neither hurried nor slow: “Not bad.”

“However,” the boss shifted his tone, “what I asked you to find was someone who can fight.”

“You know as well as I do that we are critically short on order-keepers and investigators right now, not technicians. Precision mechanics is indeed a solid major, and Changhui University is certainly a prestigious institution, but he is merely an undergraduate; how much could he possibly achieve? Yet paying his salary, bonuses, and benefits will add another half a million in overhead every year. No matter how you look at it, it isn’t cost-effective.”

Zhao Ran didn’t argue. He merely unhooked the Core Storage Analyzer from his waist and set it beside the tea table: “Look at this analyzer he modified overnight.”

Inside the flip lid of the Core Storage Analyzer was a square label inscribed with the two characters: Yu An.

The boss cast a sideways glance at the compact, oblong device. The eight internal core slots were fitted with spray-disinfection and drying mechanisms. Once an Aberrant Core was slotted in, the cleaning and disinfecting process took under fifteen seconds.

Although not cutting-edge technology, the student’s meticulousness and patience were readily evident. He was worth cultivating.

Only then did the boss take it a bit more seriously. Setting down his teacup, he leaned back against the chair, clasping his hands together: “I have never seen you recommend a newcomer so vigorously. You seem quite fond of him?”

“Incidents have been popping up left and right lately, keeping me rushed off my feet. I truly need a handy assistant. If you aren’t satisfied, I’ll have the recommender search for someone who can fight instead.”

“Well, technicians can occasionally be used as investigators too. Let the kid give it a shot.” The boss pushed the resume back to Zhao Ran. “I happen to have a troublesome matter on hand; treat it as his internship assignment. You continue following up on that previous game company investigation and let him temper himself alone.”

“Oh, right. Go to finance and allocate 150,000.” The boss tapped the casing of the Core Storage Analyzer twice. “Tell the kid I’m buying out this design.”

“A truly wise decision,” Zhao Ran smiled. Inside, he scoffed: not to mention his technical skills, what kind of concept was a human Vessel who could freely mount and dismount Aberrant Cores? You still think 500,000 is a losing trade? Stingy boss, you’ll regret this one day.

However, before Yu An possessed enough strength to protect himself, Zhao Ran had no intention of letting too many people know about this.

Yu An was sitting in front of his computer browsing information related to Underground Railway when his phone suddenly alerted him that 150,000 yuan had been deposited into his bank account. Immediately after, he received a message from Zhao Ran.

Boss: [Electronic Contract] Sign below.

The message briefly explained the situation. Yu An hadn’t expected that casually adding a spray mechanism to the Core Storage Analyzer would be worth this much money.

“Your internship mission is somewhat difficult,” Zhao Ran said. “However, if you complete it, you should receive a bonus of no less than 100,000.”

“At six this evening, head over to the Peeping Eagle Bureau. Ye Shiyin will explain the specific plan of action to you.”

Yu An: “1.”

The Peeping Eagle Bureau was situated right in the center of Hongli City. It was an imposing symmetrical building flanked by towering banners. Ascending the steep stone steps, a brass eagle spreading its wings in flight was cast above the broad main doors, its eyes flashing red light.

Following Zhao Ran’s instructions, he didn’t enter through the front doors, instead handing his ID card over to the guard booth at the side entrance.

Shortly after, a blonde policewoman with curly hair escorted him inside.

Yu An had quite an impression of this tall young policewoman. Her name seemed to be Timon, a subordinate of Officer Ye.

Cradling a submachine gun with the muzzle pointing diagonally downward, she walked beside Yu An in a posture that closely resembled a protective escort, without uttering a word.

Yu An had no habit of striking up conversations with people either, leaving only silence between them. After turning into the main interior of the building, they passed through another security checkpoint guarded by armed police, where his identity was verified once more.

Officer Ye was waiting for him in the office.

Even indoors, she wore her black face mask, commanding and severe just as when they first met.

Officer Ye pushed a stack of files on the desk toward Yu An. Her rough, bony right hand was covered in knife scars and bullet wounds, inspiring reverent awe.

“I will not bring up irrelevant matters. Timon, show him the video footage first.”

The blonde policewoman turned on the projector, displaying footage onto the screen. In a hushed voice, she cautioned Yu An in accented Chinese: “The scenes might cause discomfort. If you feel sick, let me know.”

Yu An didn’t know what shocking footage they intended to show him, but he obediently nodded. This girl seemed nice; the mechanical eagle he dismantled had likely been hers, and he wondered if she had been punished for it.

The recording began to play.

The camera began panning from a grimy wall corner. The lighting in the room was bright, with a row of beauty apparatus arranged along the wall.

It looked somewhat like a private room in a beauty salon.

Next, a sterile tray entered the frame containing scalpels and local anesthetics. The lens zoomed out, panning toward the salon bed in the center of the room.

Lying upon it was what could only be described as a gargantuan behemoth. His four limbs were swollen into four conjoined lingzhi mushrooms, his towering chest and abdomen still heaving up and down. Visually, his weight was close to six hundred pounds. His obesity was severe beyond measure, capable of causing cardiac arrest in his sleep at any given moment.

Was this a case of an unlicensed beauty salon performing unauthorized bariatric surgery on a patient?

The camera remained focused on the patient’s body. Occasionally, the hands of two doctors appeared in frame, drawing anesthetic into syringes, using one hand to pinch up folds of sagging skin, injecting subcutaneously bit by bit.

“However, bariatric gastrectomy should be performed under general anesthesia… Never mind.” Yu An started to speak, but caught himself.

Once the anesthesia took effect, the other doctor picked up a scalpel and sliced open the patient’s distended belly. Layers of skin were smoothly divided by the razor blade, revealing massive clusters of creamy-yellow fat beneath.

The doctor reached his hands inside, using his fingers to strip the fat away from muscle. Because the fat masses were too enormous, they had to be carved apart with the scalpel and transferred chunk by chunk.

After several minutes of manipulation, the doctor scooped out a massive chunk of fat from the patient’s abdomen. Due to blood, parts of the fat appeared pinkish-orange, vivid and greasy.

The massive chunk of fat was dropped into a sanitation bucket atop a digital scale. The readout surged upward, indicating a weight of 16 kilograms.

Every time the doctor removed fat, it was deposited into the bucket on the scale. The weight kept climbing as the large bucket was gradually filled to the brim. They swapped in an empty bucket, and in the end, the total weight of removed fat reached a staggering 250 kilograms.

By this point, the patient on the salon bed had practically turned into a hollowed-out sack of human skin, deflated completely.

Next, the doctors began suturing: excising redundant skin and stitching the incisions together.

Finally, the camera showcased the patient from head to toe post-surgery. He had attained the perfect physique many dreamed of; his abdomen was even sculpted with Apollo’s belts and firm abdominal lines, as handsome and captivating as Michelangelo’s David.

However, adipose tissue is enveloped by intricate connective networks, and the visceral organs of severely obese patients have fragile tolerance. Removing whole-body fat in such a brutal manner meant the patient would without doubt die.

The video ended here.

The lights in the office clicked back on. Yu An was still staring blankly at the empty screen.

Shock, doubt, perplexity, and an indescribable satisfaction converged into a single sentiment: is there more?

Officer Timon offered a glass of water, gently patting Yu An’s shoulder in comfort. For a student not majoring in medicine or criminal justice, the psychological impact of such footage was simply too overwhelming.

Officer Ye spoke: “This series of perverse homicide videos has been dubbed ‘Skeletal Art,’ sold on the dark web. Providing viewers with twisted visual gratification, it gained immense traction, generating illicit profits of up to seven million.”

“By bribing the victims’ caregivers, they carry out abductions. In just one month, four cases of missing obese patients have occurred across various regions. The fifth disappearance took place right at Guxian Hospital.”

“The patient who disappeared last night is named Zhou Gongxing.”

Officer Ye placed Mr. Zhou’s photo in front of Yu An. Seeing that face, Yu An was slightly startled.

“One hour ago, we pinpointed the video filming location. Up to this point, no new content has been uploaded to the Skeletal Art series, so we believe Mr. Zhou is very likely still alive. However, the operation involves cross-regional apprehension and rescue, and we are still awaiting instructions from higher authorities.”

“Therefore, what Underground Railway needs to do now is send personnel into Xiliu Beauty Salon in Jiu’an City before approval documents arrive, protect the hostage Mr. Zhou, and track down the suspects’ whereabouts. I demand that you depart immediately; every second of delay puts the hostage in greater danger.”

As far as Yu An knew, ordinary criminal cases wouldn’t seek assistance from Underground Railway, which meant an Aberrant was very likely present in that salon.

A mission of this caliber was an internship task? Hadn’t he applied for a technical position?

“Are you sure? Is this a mission for me alone?”

From the way Officer Ye spoke, it seemed they assumed he was merely a messenger and that a full squad would be carrying out the operation.

“You alone?” Officer Ye narrowed her eyes slightly, reevaluating Yu An.

Officer Timon looked Yu An up and down in astonishment. Her expression abruptly turned bashful and embarrassed as she held the cup, silently chiding herself for arrogantly trying to console a covert operative of Underground Railway. No wonder he remained unmoved after watching such brutal footage: he was a man of vast experience, and showing him a case like this was practically teaching fish to swim.

“Uh.” This wasn’t the reaction Yu An had hoped for.

He finally began to grasp what Underground Railway meant by “six insurances and one housing fund”: six deadly hazards, with a complementary gold urn.

He couldn’t pinpoint where the mix-up occurred, but he had definitely been played by his interviewer.

Zhao Ran lounged leisurely in the sofa chair in his office, browsing information regarding Xiliu Beauty Salon on the internal company network.

“A bit tricky, indeed.” Zhao Ran took a sip from his cartoon cat-ear mug. Still, the little rascal needed a lesson to wear down his sharp edges.

The big boss had sharp ears and keen eyes; he knew full well who had downed the mechanical eagle, merely doing Zhao Ran a favor. This assignment was clearly meant to test Yu An’s limits.

Shrewd merchants were masters of weighing gains and losses; the boss wanted to probe Yu An’s worth.

According to the big boss’s intent, Yu An was supposed to venture into the investigation alone. However, solo operations had too many variables, and Yu An was a greenhorn with zero field experience who needed at least a little helper.

“Follow him, keep an eye out for his safety, and don’t cause trouble,” Zhao Ran said.

Yet Zhao Ran was the only person in the office; it seemed as if he were talking to thin air.

However, the moment his words fell, the partially closed office door opened a crack, and something crawled rapidly along the floor and slipped outside.