EM CH32

Chapter 32: Useful Knowledge Increased

Zhao Ran changed him into pajamas. Exhausted to the limit, Yu An kept his eyes half-closed, letting the man handle him as he pleased.

The pure cotton pajamas carried the fluffiness of a fresh tumble-dry and the scent of laundry detergent. Fitting just right, they were so comfortable they made one even sleepier.

Prying open his tightly clenched fingers, Zhao Ran gently pulled the crumpled score sheet from his palm, carefully unfolded and smoothed it flat, admired it for a moment, and then placed it on the desk, solemnly weighting it down with several heavy volumes.

Yu An preferred sleeping half on his stomach, curled sideways over a bunched-up down duvet; he felt uneasy unless he was hugging something.

Zhao Ran sat on the edge of the bed with his back to him, elbows resting on his knees, fingertips drooping naturally.

From the moment he stepped through the bedroom door, the tactile sensations of the severed hands were once again clearly perceived by Zhao Ran.

That sensation of forcefully gripping a slender waist and abdomen was the most stimulating of all. The boy’s vibrant waist was firm yet lithe, and it was precisely because he was so inexperienced, young, and fragile that he had fallen into those devilish clutches with no way to escape.

Not to mention those punitive slaps and tight squeezes—each one accompanied by the slight twitching and squirming of the person within their grasp.

The initial fury and anxiety had completely dissipated. Closing his eyes to savor the feeling for a moment, Zhao Ran couldn’t resist pursing his lips in a quiet smirk.

After a long while, he picked up his phone and sent a message to his older brother.

“Something came up. Meet at the usual spot in half an hour.”

In the deepest reaches of the coastal park, Zhao Ran stood at the edge of a rocky cliff, holding a black sun umbrella.

As a wave surged past, Zhao Ran leaped lightly down.

Along the outer face of the cliff, waves and sea wind had naturally eroded a sea cave, where someone was already sitting and waiting for him.

Beneath a knit beanie, the man had a head of curly hair, yet in the dead of winter he wore only a vibrant Hawaiian shirt paired with loose shorts and beach flip-flops. In his hands, he cradled a snow-white human skull like a polished talisman, rubbed so smooth and glossy it could reflect a person’s silhouette.

His older brother was named “Ha Bai”—Ha as in clam, and Bai as in snow-white.

“What happened?” Ha Bai lifted his eyelids, his gaze turning serious. Pressing his fingertips against the skull’s temples, he swung it back and forth in midair.

“Keep a close eye on the movements of the other two Aberrant-hunting companies lately, and help me lock down a piece of news,” Zhao Ran said.

“What news?”

“That An’an’s left eye core slot can swap Aberrant Cores.”

“Oh, him again.” His brother let out a helpless chuckle. A few seconds later, he scratched his hair and looked up in astonishment. “Can swap?”

Calming down to analyze carefully, he added, “Isn’t that practically invincible?”

“I’m still testing his tolerance. From the looks of it now, frequently swapping cores above red tier inflicts heavy strain on his body. The good news, though, is that this tolerance can be trained; with gradual conditioning, it should grow stronger and stronger.”

“This secret must never be exposed,” Ha Bai frowned.

“Heh, it’s already completely exposed.” Zhao Ran spread his hands helplessly. “Everyone in Underground Railway knows. So for now, help me suppress this information and prevent any further leaks. Duan Ke and Xiaoying are our own people, so I’m not worried about them; I’m only concerned there might still be traitors hiding inside the company.”

“Tsk… you really know how to stir up trouble.” Whenever his brother thought deeply, he liked rubbing his handheld trinket; right now, he was furiously polishing the skull’s forehead.

“Still haven’t thrown this head away? It’s practically developed a patina.” Hands tucked in his pockets, Zhao Ran teased, “Didn’t you find someone new?”

“It’s different. I modified it into a speaker.” Ha Bai pressed one of the skull’s teeth. Immediately, the whir of a cassette tape rolling came from inside the cranium, and heavy drumbeats blasted from the two eye sockets: “Sad people shouldn’t listen to slow songs; life is full of partings and reunions, love is all push and pull…”

Tactfully reaching over, Zhao Ran found the off switch on another tooth and pressed it.

“Shoo, don’t touch it with your reproductive organs.” Ha Bai slapped his hand away in disgust. “Filthy. It took me forever to polish it shiny.”

Pulling his hand back into his trench coat pocket, Zhao Ran muttered, “Treating a piece of junk like treasure and won’t even let me touch it.”

“I only forbid you from touching it. Don’t you know full well what function your own hands serve?”

Tucking the skull under his arm, Ha Bai walked to the edge of the reef dropping into the sea, looking back with a scoff: “If you’re done talking, head back. Anyway, Yu An doesn’t mind a dirty little thing like you. By the way, he still doesn’t know what kind of organ your hands actually are, does he? You’re taking advantage of his ignorance to grope around shamelessly, aren’t you?”

“Have a safe trip.” Lifting his foot, Zhao Ran kicked his brother squarely in the backside. Stepping into thin air, Ha Bai plunged headfirst into the surging, roaring ocean waves.

His brother’s figure vanished, and amidst the churning surf, only a colossal snow-white scallop could be seen slowly submerging, carrying the skull speaker blaring music atop its shell: “Ugly monster, ay-ay-ay-ay, could you please not turn on the lights…”

Picking up a rock from the ground, Zhao Ran hurled it out. With a loud clang, it smashed right onto the scallop shell, punching a hole through it. The skull speaker rolled straight into the hole, and the world fell silent.

It was getting late; time to go home and cook dinner. Brushing the grit off his gloves, Zhao Ran picked up his black umbrella and headed back.

He would make something delicious for a late-night supper—crack open a nice can to replenish the little brat’s nutrition.

The little hands working in the kitchen huddled together in fear, terrified their master would settle today’s score with them. Trembling as they assisted him, they diligently chopped vegetables, carried trays, and set out bowls, petrified that any slight misstep would get them stomped into oblivion.

Carrying a plate of garlic spare ribs to the table, the dish gleamed golden-red and smelled mouthwateringly fragrant.

As Zhao Ran leaned over to set the plate down, a sudden sharp sting shot through his right hand, a needle-pricking sensation persisting for over ten seconds.

Instinct told him something was off. Hurrying toward the bedroom, he pushed open the door.

Yu An had already woken up and was lying on his stomach playing on the bed, his calves swinging leisurely in midair.

Clutched in his grip and being toyed with was a severed hand.

Tattooed in red pigment on the web between its thumb and index finger was a ring of teeth marks, marking it as one of the few severed hands possessing a name: the left hand, “Frenzy.”

Most severed hands spawned endlessly, coming and going, perishing and regenerating like strands of hair. Yet a select few existed permanently; the more pronounced their self-awareness and personality, the stronger their combat prowess, and the harder they were to destroy.

Holding Frenzy pinned down with one hand, Yu An used the other to thread silver wire through a needle, stitching back and forth through the skin over Frenzy’s knuckles, while using tweezers to string tiny metallic beads along the silver wire at regular intervals as decoration.

“You’re awake… What are you doing?” Zhao Ran clutched his left hand, which was throbbing faintly beneath his glove.

“Looks nice, doesn’t it?” Snipping the silver wire with pliers, Yu An held Frenzy up, admiring his handiwork in detail.

Over a dozen needle punctures pierced the skin across Frenzy’s knuckles, threaded with beaded silver wire, beads of blood seeping from the holes. The relentless, sharp agony left it twitching feebly, on the verge of passing out from pain.

Resting atop Kaopu’s fingers, Lipu watched the spectacle gleefully from the sidelines.

Scrabbling its fingers desperately across the bedsheets, Frenzy tried to crawl toward Zhao Ran, begging its master for rescue.

“Looks nice.” Acting as if nothing were amiss, Zhao Ran temporarily severed his sensory link with Frenzy.

Relying solely on that single bite mark, Yu An had patiently hunted down the exact hand that bullied him most enthusiastically out of hundreds, torturing it meticulously and relishing every moment of the process.

“Interviewer, you have so many hands. No wonder your ID is NSDD—Ni Shou Duo Duo (You Have Too Many Hands),” Yu An muttered as he played.

“Stop fiddling with it and come eat.”

“Wait a second, Interviewer. I made something for you too.”

Ji Nian’s Precision Belt lay by the bedside, its inner lining stocked with a full row of micro-tools and materials. Yu An had taken a sliver of silver, hammered it into a thin strip, carved openwork filigree patterns with a jeweler’s saw, and finally polished it into an exquisite ring band.

Zhao Ran’s right eyelid twitched.

Climbing onto his knees on the bed, Yu An placed the silver ring in his palm and held it out before Zhao Ran.

Zhao Ran fell silent for a long moment. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he measured his words before asking, “What do you think our relationship is right now?”

Leaning back until he lay flat on the mattress, Yu An held up both hands, hanging the ring from his fingertip to play with it.

That question meant nothing to him.

If the “I” inside the diary could possess a “he,” why couldn’t Yu An outside the diary create a “he” of his own—anchoring illusion in reality and turning falsehood into truth? All Yu An knew was that they had just kissed; the interviewer had been willing, and he himself had thoroughly enjoyed it.

The man’s fangs really did prick his tongue, though not as sharply as imagined; the tiny sting had instead been thrilling and addictive.

Resting his head against Zhao Ran’s knee, Yu An blew a speck of dust off the ring, closed his fingers around it, and clasped it tight in his palm: “Black tungsten gold would look even better, but Ji Nian’s belt didn’t have any.”

“Return the belt to him at work tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Yu An nodded obediently.

“Your ability to swap cores has already been exposed. From now on, make sure to keep a low profile, stick close to me, and don’t go stirring up trouble.”

“What happens if I do?”

“You’ll bring trouble down on me.”

“…” Yu An didn’t argue further. “Got it.”

“Interviewer, I have one more question about the written exam material.”

“Go ahead.”

“The four stages of Aberrant development: larval stage, growth stage, cocooning stage, and eclosion stage. It’s the inevitable path of an Aberrant’s growth. During the cocooning stage, the Aberrant seeks a secluded corner to weave a cocoon, and if undisturbed, successfully ecloses, only to die six hours later.” Yu An recited the study guide material word for word. “It sounds a lot like insects such as cicadas or butterflies. Yet Aberrants don’t possess insect-like reproductive capabilities. With their numbers clearly so vast and diverse, and the Aberrant Cores they yield already forming an entire industry in human society, I believe they aren’t merely mutated byproducts of radiation—they must have another method of propagating their species.”

“They do.”

Zhao Ran silently weighed whether he should answer this question, suddenly struck by an inexplicable sense of embarrassment, as if lecturing a teenager on human anatomy.

“After entering the cocooning stage, an Aberrant faces two evolutionary paths. The first is eclosion, which is the fate of most ordinary Aberrants.”

“Yet there is actually a second choice: Butterfly Transformation.”

“If slain by a human during the cocooning stage, it enters the Butterfly Transformation stage, forging a binding pact with that human. So long as the contractor does not die, the Aberrant can survive indefinitely. Correspondingly, the Aberrant will protect its contractor in order to stay alive, obeying their commands unconditionally.”

“Oh?” Thoroughly intrigued, Yu An sat bolt upright, leaning close to Zhao Ran’s face. “Then if I go hunt down Aberrants in their cocooning stage, wouldn’t I gain a whole squad of formidable bodyguards?”

“An Aberrant willing to form a pact with you will leave a unique totem mark on your body. An Aberrant you slaughter at random would be too busy hating you to ever submit willingly to your control.”

“Think of the totem mark as an admission ticket—proof that it acknowledges your qualification to bind with it. Even then, if you aren’t strong enough, you still won’t be able to defeat it.”

“What if I trick it? Treat it nicely first, and then get it to let me kill it willingly?” Yu An excelled at scheming underhanded loopholes, already researching how to exploit bugs in Aberrant mechanics.

“Its willingness wouldn’t help. Aberrants in the cocooning stage recognize neither friend nor kin; they fight relentlessly to the death and turn completely berserk. If you fail to kill it, it will kill you.”

“Then I’ll hire people with money to go kill it with me.”

“Theoretically viable, except an Aberrant in its cocooning stage is encased within a cocoon shell. To kill it, you have to step inside the cocoon. Once you succeed in killing it, the cocoon shell seals around you, and only the contractor can walk out of the cocoon—no one else. That means everyone you bring inside would have to willingly die for you. Think about imperial tomb sacrifices in ancient times: how many people were truly willing to be buried alive with an emperor?”

“…Those conditions are way too harsh.” Lost in thought, Yu An chewed absentmindedly on his thumbnail.

“Naturally. Most importantly, too few people can restrain their malicious impulses. When you possess a powerful Aberrant obeying your every whim, could you resist becoming a villain?”

“Probably not.” Yu An licked his lips. “On day one, I’d go slaughter everyone I hate, portion them into small packs in the freezer to feed my little Aberrant, and microwave one bag a day.”

“What kind of nonsense is that? It doesn’t eat that.” Frustrated by his lack of moral compass, Zhao Ran smacked the crown of his head twice. “Aren’t you disgusted?”

“Then, this.” Holding up the ring, Yu An thrust it right before Zhao Ran’s face, leaving him no room to change the subject. “Do you really not want it?”

Zhao Ran’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he rubbed his fingertips together beneath his gloves.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want it.

Had it been an ear stud, a pendant, or even a wristwatch, he would have accepted it gladly—only a ring was different.

Not merely because of the profound significance carried by such an ornament. Rather, the exact spot where it encircled his finger was far too stimulating for Zhao Ran.

Worldbuilding Handbook 1 (Aberrants & Illusion Chambers)

1. Aberrant: Creatures opposing the human faction in this setting. [Any object, including humans, once an Aberrant Core forms inside it, can be classified as an Aberrant.]
2. Vessel: [Humans] capable of embedding Aberrant Cores into missing or mutilated parts of their bodies to gain the cores’ abilities. The prerequisite is possessing a missing/mutilated body part; Aberrant Cores can only be embedded in such sites.
3. Illusion Chamber: Spaces where Aberrants have caused human fatalities have a chance of transforming into an Illusion Chamber. Perilous throughout, they offer opportunities to obtain rare Aberrant Core rewards—comparable to dungeon instances in video games.
4. How to Clear an Illusion Chamber: 1) Slay the Aberrant that created the Illusion Chamber; 2) Unravel the governing rules of the Illusion Chamber. Sometimes fulfilling one condition suffices; other times both must be satisfied, such as in the beauty salon.
5. Common Species: Aberrants formed when real-world flora, fauna, or ordinary objects generate an Aberrant Core, such as goats, mosquitoes, or baseball bats.
6. Illusion Chamber Species: Aberrant Cores generated under the influence of an Illusion Chamber.
7. Aberrated Species: Deformed, anomalous special Aberrants. (Example: A starfish is Common Species, whereas Patrick Star is Aberrated Species.)