EM CH34

Chapter 34: Stumbling Block

A flowing-water tea table stood in the center of the antique-styled room. A narrow stream ran straight through the raw timber, adorned with miniature rockeries and moss, while several bright red fish glided leisurely among the pebbles. In front of the tea table sat a backflow incense burner, wisps of agarwood smoke cascading downward into the stream coursing across the table.

Thinking he had walked into the wrong room, Yu An stepped back out to check the nameplate on the door; it was indeed the big boss’s office.

Seated behind the table, Mr. Kong had an aged radio resting beside his hand. Amidst the static of a spinning cassette tape inside the rust-spotted box, Cheng-school Peking opera drifted melodiously from the speaker.

The interviewer liked listening to this style of opera as well; so he had picked it up from the big boss. Yu An lowered his guard slightly.

Hearing footsteps, the big boss looked up from behind the tea table and crooked a finger at Yu An: “Don’t be nervous. Have a seat wherever you like.”

Yu An had little experience conversing with upper management. Seeing that the genuine leather sofa looked quite comfortable, he even had the habitual urge to sprawl upside down across it, but a sharp glare from the two bodyguards standing with their backs to the door stripped him of any desire to relax. He decided not to sit at all.

He deeply disliked being summoned by bosses for private talks. The very first sentence he had spoken to HR during his job hunt was, “Could you give me a position that only requires working and zero talking?” He had assumed Underground Railway’s line of work was special, never expecting it to fall prey to the exact same corporate clichés.

Wearing his hood, his face was completely obscured by pitch-black shadow. That aloof aura keeping everyone a thousand miles away only made the big boss appreciate him all the more.

The big boss had two daughters. His eldest daughter was already learning to manage company affairs and was currently busy with a charity campaign providing citizens with free injections of anti-aberrant radiation chips. His younger daughter had a quiet temperament and enjoyed researching jewelry and gemstones.

Reaching middle age, one inevitably had to plan meticulously for their children. As his mental and physical stamina began declining, holding onto the family enterprise in the fierce tides of competition years down the line might prove difficult. The big boss had been constantly searching for suitable young talent to groom into the future pillars of Underground Railway.

“I followed your performance in the strength test and saw immense potential in you, so I wanted to meet you in person.” Pulling a switchblade from a drawer, the big boss set it on the table and slid it toward Yu An. “My daughter gifted me this ‘Armor-Piercing Awl.’ Compact and lightweight yet razor-sharp, it should handle much better for you than a military dagger.”

Without any hesitation, Yu An picked up the switchblade to inspect it. Embedded into the circular pivot connecting the hilt and blade was a red, four-pointed star-shaped Aberrant Core.

Rust red—Tier 2 Red. Ranked along the rarity spectrum of blue, purple, red, silver, and gold, Tier 2 Red sat squarely in the middle.

The lethality of an Aberrant-powered weapon inlaid with a Tier 2 Red core went without saying.

“Aberrant Cores can be cut and carved?” Yu An brushed his fingertips over the sharp edges of the four-pointed star; every Aberrant Core he had seen until now had been spherical.

“Of course. They can be cut and carved into whatever shape you require, though it demands master-level craftsmanship from the carver.” The material of an Aberrant Core was volatile; the slightest slip could cause it to rupture and shatter. High-grade cores were rare and precious, and nobody wanted to run into an amateur carver who would ruin a core.

“My second daughter is the finest carver around. She carved two finger-shaped Aberrant Cores for Ni Lan.”

“The closer the shape matches the original limb, the higher the utilization efficiency of the core. You’ve experienced Ni Lan’s swordsmanship and combat skills firsthand—those two silver-grade finger cores enhanced her physique to its absolute peak.”

“If you ever need something carved, go find her.” The big boss handed Yu An a card bearing the address of a jewelry boutique.

Carving Aberrant Cores was intricate technical work. The finished piece couldn’t be too small, as undersized cores couldn’t store energy; moreover, carving cores meant to be embedded into specialized anatomical positions carried the highest difficulty, requiring precise shaping without allowing excessive energy leakage.

“Alright.” Yu An accepted it gladly. While the big boss looked like a hands-off manager, his daughter sounded remarkably reliable and brilliant.

“There is one more matter I called you here for, which Zhao Ran should have mentioned to you. It’s simply that the matter wasn’t wrapped up yesterday and dragged into today.” Slowly rising, the big boss walked around the tea table, rolling a string of southern red agate beads between his fingers. Approaching an antique bookcase, he tripped a concealed mechanism, and the bookcase began rotating slowly.

Gradually, the back of the bookcase swung fully around to face the interior of the office. Bound spread-eagled against a pitch-black wall was a man, clad in nothing but shorts, all four limbs shackled firmly to the surface.

Head hanging low, Zeng Rang had merely passed out. There were zero signs of physical trauma on his body, save for four crimson cross brands seared across his chest.

It was by no means lenient treatment of a prisoner by Underground Railway. The big boss had interrogated him personally last night, forcing the wretch to cough up everything he knew. The Medical Emergency Team Leader had sat right beside them eating fruit; whenever the interrogation grew heavy-handed enough to nearly snuff out Zeng Rang’s breath, the medical leader stepped in to heal him. Every time he underwent full-body healing, another cross brand appeared on his chest.

Draping an arm over Yu An’s shoulders, the big boss guided him closer to Zeng Rang. Like an instructor guiding a student’s calligraphy brush, he lifted Yu An’s wrist, resting the tip of the Armor-Piercing Awl lightly against Zeng Rang’s collarbone: “Cook Ding carving an ox emphasizes ‘perceiving with the spirit rather than looking with the eyes; sensory knowledge halts while spiritual intent moves.’ Imprint the ox’s anatomy into your mind, then insert the blade at the joints, sliding the tip into the gaps between bones. When encountering tangled tendons and ligaments, concentrate wholly and use the blade’s edge to part them. In mere moments, flesh separates from bone without dulling the blade in the slightest.”

Gripping the Armor-Piercing Awl, Yu An tilted his head to glance at the big boss, though the Pure Black Hood concealed his startled expression from view.

“Would you like to give it a try?” Leisurely rolling his prayer beads, the big boss stood beside Yu An awaiting his answer.

“No.” Yu An replied without a second’s hesitation.

The big boss paused in surprise. Having judged tens of thousands of people, his eye for talent had never once failed him.

“The interviewer won’t allow it.” Yu An lightly stabbed the Armor-Piercing Awl into the wall, returning it to the big boss. Sure enough, there was no such thing as a free lunch; he had known an Aberrant-powered weapon this fine wouldn’t be handed over without strings attached.

“Zhao Ran forbade it?” Silently mulling over that intriguing command, the big boss suddenly broke into a smile. “He never used to say things like that.”

“Today I’m not asking him—I’m asking you. Asking what you want to do.” Like a bamboo pit viper coiled amidst dark forest leaves flicking a crimson tongue, the big boss spoke in a slow, gentle cadence, waving twice toward the two bodyguards by the door. Taking the hint, both men stepped out and pulled the door shut.

The room turned extraordinarily quiet. The gentle gurgling of the tea table stream echoed past their ears, sounding like dripping blood gathering into a vivid, coppery brook.

Raising his hand, Yu An touched the blade tip lightly against the man’s skin. Inlaid with a Tier 2 Red core, the weapon was unimaginably sharp; a layer of scarlet frost wrapped the edge, and the instant that cold gleam made contact, the skin parted in a smooth, clean incision.

His right hand hovered in midair, remaining motionless for a long moment.

Hands clasped behind his back, the big boss waited to the side: “What’s the matter?”

Stepping closer to the unconscious Zeng Rang, Yu An rested his left hand over the man’s beating heart, like a wild beast sniffing to verify whether its prey had spoiled.

“Wake him up.” Beneath the pitch-black shadow, Yu An’s voice remained calm, trailing an inflection of feverish excitement.

Half an hour later.

Yu An sat beneath the showerhead in the bathroom, warm water cascading down from overhead, rinsing the bloodstains out from the seams of his clothes. Streaks of crimson water snaked across the snow-white tiles before draining away into the floor grate.

He had been fidgeting incessantly with a silver ring, washing away the blood trapped inside its filigree grooves.

His mind kept wandering to matters wholly unrelated to work.

The strength in the interviewer’s hands was a mystery—able to hoist him effortlessly off the ground as though lifting an empty plastic water bottle.

Did puppies feel the same way when picked up? The holder thought it effortless, yet it actually pressed lightly against their bones, aching just a bit. Still, puppies remained eager to be held, proving that compared to the joy of being embraced, any accompanying ache was negligible.

Turning it over in his mind, Yu An finally realized one truth.

Earlier, when he defied the interviewer’s rule and laid hands on Zeng Rang, he had felt utterly bored; the anticipated thrill never arrived. When the interviewer first warned him, he hadn’t taken it to heart, believing himself fearless. Yet when gripping the sharp blade and plunging it into soft flesh, he found himself unable to bear listening to that exquisite sound of slicing—realizing only then that fear had silently engulfed him without his knowing.

If the interviewer found out about what happened today, would he be even more reluctant to wear the ring Yu An gave him?

Handing a towel inside, the big boss realized the boy hadn’t taken his clothes off at all. Suddenly reaching out, Yu An seized the big boss’s wrist, pressing the keen edge of the Armor-Piercing Awl against his radial artery: “Don’t tell him.”

“Forget it.” He slowly lowered the blade. “Can’t hide it from him anyway.”

The big boss naturally knew what the boy was afraid of.

He truly couldn’t fathom where Zhao Ran had acquired the skill to tame a feral little wildcat into obeying his words alone.

“Actually, he’s hardly some great saint himself.” Seeing the boy sitting drenched from head to toe on the tiles looking thoroughly pitiful, the big boss pushed aside the blade held before him and crouched down to console him. “You’ve likely heard rumors: years ago, there was an intern who killed his own interviewer during his probationary period, yet in the end, I still hired him.”

“That intern back then was Zhao Ran.” The big boss flicked water droplets from his sleeve. “I found him in Riyu Town. Back then, he acted purely on whims of likes and dislikes, with a flamboyant, unbridled personality—you could see ten different expressions cross his face within a single minute. Truth be told, even today he hasn’t been entirely tempered into steadiness by the years. I wonder which side of himself he shows in front of you.”

“?” Tilting his face upward, Yu An listened intently.

At this very moment, Zhao Ran was not at Underground Railway headquarters, but inside an abandoned amusement park.

Following leads extracted by the Urban Patrol Team from the illicit Aberrant pet vendors, they had swiftly tracked down the breeding den supplying the creatures, handing the subsequent sweep operation over to the Emergency Order Team.

The public relations department had already drafted press releases, framing the influx of illegal Aberrant pets onto the market as a grave crisis. With public outrage rapidly fermenting over the heinous nature of the incident, Zhao Ran was deployed personally to eradicate the threat in Underground Railway’s name.

All four exits of the amusement park were sealed tight. Thick layers of dust blanketed the faded, sun-bleached red canvas roof left behind by a touring circus.

Inside the dim, labyrinthine circus tent, several ringleaders grabbed cash boxes stuffed with banknotes, preparing to bolt.

“Hurry up, forget the money!”

“I risked my neck for this cash! Why the hell would I leave it?!”

“Damn it, Zhao Ran from the Emergency Order Team came down in person to make the bust! If you lose your life, are you going to spend that cash six feet underground?!”

Glancing back at the beast cages behind them, small living creatures still in their larval stages were crammed tightly inside, faint whimpers rising and falling from every corner.

Forced to abandon several heavy crates, the men squeezed toward the exit.

Yet standing backlit in the center of the narrow passageway was a lone figure.

Under the fierce midday sun, Zhao Ran stepped from the glare into the shadows. His long hair, bleached snow-white by direct sunlight, gradually regained its pale crimson hue starting from the tips—resembling ignited flames burning upward, firing pink glaze onto flawless white porcelain.

“He’s all alone! Risk everything and break through!” Charging forward desperately, the burly man shoved to the front halted abruptly just before colliding with Zhao Ran, freezing motionless as though someone had hit a pause button.

Leaning forward slightly, Zhao Ran flashed a fanged smile before the burly man’s face.

Thick blood slowly pooled beneath the man’s feet. An arm had burst straight up through the ground beneath him, its fingertips sunk deep into his lower back, five fingers digging into flesh and clamping around his spine.

“Don’t run.” A crimson glimmer flared in Zhao Ran’s eyes.

He was in a foul mood. The big boss had deliberately dispatched him out during broad daylight today, clearly intending to meet Yu An in private.

The boss had taken a liking to Yu An’s talent, showing every intention of promoting and grooming him.

Yet the boss wished to mold Yu An into a bloodthirsty killer and a coldly rational schemer—diametrically opposed to the nurturing plan Zhao Ran had laid out.

He hoped the boss wouldn’t become a stumbling block on his path to raising his kid.

Seeing this, the others dropped everything and fled backward, only for severed hands to erupt successively from the earth like ground spikes piercing through brick, pinning each man firmly to the floor.

Driven to desperation, a balding man drew a handgun and pulled the trigger at Zhao Ran. Muzzle flash flared, and a bullet tore rapidly into Zhao Ran’s chest.

“Body armor…” the balding man muttered in shock.

Pulling open his collar, Zhao Ran revealed bare skin—nothing worn underneath. The scorching bullet sat embedded right in his chest, casually plucked out between his fingers.

Making a hollow grasping gesture in thin air, a crisp crack rang out as a severed hand surging from the dirt twisted the balding man’s spine cleanly in two.

Feeling irritable and completing the assignment with growing impatience, Zhao Ran pulled out his phone and texted Yu An: “Did you learn anything new at the company today?”

As if the little brat had been staring at his phone the entire time, a reply arrived within mere seconds:

“Cook Ding carving a human.”