CR CH69

Chapter 69: “I Will Kill Him with My Own Hands.”

“Abnormal mental domain detected for No. B072, showing severe self-destructive tendencies. Assigning a B-rank Mental-type squad member.”

“Energy output dropping sharply for No. B150. Prepare for emergency resuscitation.”

“No. A04 exhibiting symptoms of frenzy. A-rank energy suppression collar rendered ineffective. Requesting injection of NR9—risk probability is…”

Late into the night, the hallway of the Research Institute’s Medical Department was filled with a frantic bustle. Doctors in white uniforms hurried past, exchanging status reports with their colleagues without pause.

“Captain Ling.”

Someone called out softly from behind. Ling Kongmiao ended his comms call and turned around. Jiang Yan, clad in a high-ranking commander’s uniform, had clearly rushed over right after finishing up her official duties.

“How is the situation?” Jiang Yan swept her eyes over the personnel coming and going in the main hall. “Federation Day is in three days. The Empire and the Beast Tribe have been invited to attend, and they plan to use this opportunity to publicly announce the Blood Pod Program as well as the Tier-Transcendence Tasks.”

“Also,” she tapped her comms device, “your mentor asked me to pass along a message.”

“‘If you don’t pick up the phone right now, I’m skipping work and coming over to kick your ass.'”

Hearing Jiang Yan deliver that line in such a composed, calm tone made Ling Kongmiao raise his hand to rub his temples.

“…Pardon the embarrassment.” He paused briefly before switching to business. “The current situation is within normal parameters. Everything has been properly arranged.”

“The candidate for the main Commander-in-Chief of Z01 has been confirmed. They’re currently going through the handover procedures, and by the timeline, it should be right after the comprehensive evaluation.”

“Oh?” Jiang Yan raised an eyebrow. “By that math, Captain Ling will just happen to be able to whisk Xiaotian away.”

Ling Kongmiao offered her a faint smile: “You make me sound like a thief.”

“Why would a thief need to steal? My kid has loved chasing after people ever since he was little.”

Seeing him respond like that, Jiang Yan actually burst into a light laugh instead.

“How is he right now?”

“Still inside the observation room. His condition isn’t entirely stable.”

Ling Kongmiao guided Jiang Yan into the elevator and pressed the button for the 10th floor. As the elevator doors slowly slid shut, Jiang Yan gazed quietly at Ling Kongmiao within the quiet space. This young man truly lived up to his name—even standing right beside him, he felt impossibly distant.

Ding. The elevator doors opened.

This floor required high-level security clearance and was relatively quiet, though muffled voices of discussion could be heard from the large conference room. Ling Kongmiao and Jiang Yan didn’t disturb anyone, walking silently to the observation area on their own.

The energy glass was crystal clear. Upon detecting someone approaching, it automatically adjusted to observation mode, bringing up a virtual screen displaying real-time monitoring data.

Right in the center of the room, the young man sat with his head lowered and his back pressed against the wall. His long tail swished gently in mid-air, dark green energy flickering indistinctly through the gaps of his black scales.

The energy collar around his neck was functioning, and his limbs were secured by restraint straps. He looked very quiet and tame.

If not for the absolute mess of the room’s furnishings—which no one dared clean up—and the extra layer of chains added onto the straps just in case, one might genuinely feel a bit sorry for him.

As if to validate their suspicion, the tail Jiang Tianji had been gently swishing suddenly slammed hard into the wall. The sharp, spine-like bone at the tip reflected a cold, formidable light as it sank straight to the root into the energy wall. The powerful electric current that followed illuminated the room as bright as day.

The monitoring data flashed a high-risk red alert, and the suppression system activated. The restraint straps tightened, pinning him firmly to the spot. People from the nearby conference room rushed over; He Qian let out a helpless smile upon seeing the two of them.

“Commander Jiang, Captain Ling.”

The deputy beside her didn’t even have time to offer greetings. Frowning as he stared at the numerical values, he whispered: “He hasn’t reached the point where injecting NR9 is mandatory, nor is he in a state of deep frenzy. The maximum load capacity of this observation room is S3-stage, and the current value is steadily climbing within S1.”

“It was clearly dropping just a moment ago, and his frenzy level is still relatively stable.” The deputy pushed up his glasses, looking at the two officers with a headache. “The only possibility I can think of right now is that… he’s in a bad mood.”

“We’ve already tried to use the gentlest treatment plan possible, avoiding coercive measures out of fear that he might go into a full frenzy. If the value surges to S3 and the system triggers the high-risk emergency protocol, you both know what that entails… The physical toll on his body would be far too severe.”

“The situation really is quite tricky right now,” He Qian sighed. “His hostility is too extreme, and we can’t get close to him. Even the most basic medication injections have to be done via spatial transport. There are still three required doses of stabilizers left.”

“Unfortunately, the energy chain securing his tail broke. I was just about to call Captain Ling to ask if he was free.” He Qian said awkwardly, “We do have other plans, but…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, but everyone knew what she meant. Methods of violent suppression—especially those programmed for A-S rank ability users—were brutally harsh. After all, the ultimate command of that system was “Elimination.”

Jiang Yan rubbed her temples: “Thank you all for your hard work. I…”

Just then, an elderly man emerged from the elevator, his eyes immediately blinded by the piercing electric flashes through the glass. He let out a deep sigh.

“Jiang Yan, that kid of yours and his temper.” He shook his head and muttered, “The last time I met someone this difficult to handle was twenty or thirty years ago.”

“Elder Sun, you came too?” Jiang Yan was somewhat surprised, taking two steps forward to greet him.

“I’m close to retirement and have free time, so I came to check on things. And you,” Elder Sun looked toward Ling Kongmiao, “your mentor told you to answer your phone, otherwise he…”

“I understand, Elder Sun,” Ling Kongmiao immediately cut in. Feeling a faint throb in his head, he walked straight toward the door of the observation room instead. “I’ll resolve the issue here first.”

“Captain Ling!” He Qian hurriedly pulled him back. “I suggest putting on protective gear first. His aggressiveness is far too strong, and… his pheromones are in a state of out-of-control overload as well.”

“It’s fine.” Ling Kongmiao shook his head.

As he spoke, he unlocked and opened the observation room door. The energy that had been violently detonating just a second ago ceased without warning. For a moment, the entire hallway turned terrifyingly quiet, making the previous noise all the more apparent by contrast.

Ling Kongmiao strode directly toward Jiang Tianji, while the group outside broke into a cold sweat on his behalf.

Through observation, they had already gained a preliminary understanding: for this particular person, silence did not equal safety. Rather, it was a signal that demanded extreme vigilance, because no one knew when he would suddenly burst out.

Whoosh—!

When the thick dragon tail suddenly swept toward Ling Kongmiao, a few of the younger ones in the back let out a gasp of shock, and Jiang Yan’s brows knitted together slightly as well.

However, that tail was raised high only to be set down gently, wrapping rather domineeringly around Ling Kongmiao’s waist to pull him closer to his side, while the lethal, spine-sharp bone retracted back into place.

Jiang Tianji’s mind was clouded with confusion. With his hands and feet bound, he could only blindly tighten his tail around the other to keep him close.

The situation was actually manageable. Ling Kongmiao didn’t activate his ability; he used his hands to hold Jiang Tianji’s tail steady and offered a slight nod to the people outside, signaling them to come in and administer the stabilizer.

A few demi-humans looked at He Qian with hesitation.

He Qian took the three doses of stabilizer from her deputy. The moment she tentatively opened the door, Jiang Tianji suddenly moved.

Ling Kongmiao seemed to have anticipated it long ago. The instant Jiang Tianji bared his teeth, Ling Kongmiao raised a hand to catch and clamp his lower jaw, forcing Jiang Tianji to tilt his head upward.

“Don’t bite,” Ling Kongmiao used his other hand to press against his tail, giving it a soothing pat. “It’ll be over in a moment.”

Blue fireflies drifted around the two of them. Catching that familiar scent, Jiang Tianji quieted down.

While guiding and soothing his energy, Ling Kongmiao nodded to He Qian.

“I’m coming in then,” He Qian stepped into the room slowly. Seeing that Jiang Tianji wasn’t moving, she felt relieved enough to draw closer.

If there had been any other choice, Ling Kongmiao wouldn’t have performed this energy guidance in front of so many people, as he too couldn’t be sure what Jiang Tianji might suddenly do.

Case in point: predicting that Jiang Tianji might attack He Qian, his hand holding Jiang Tianji’s jaw applied a bit more pressure. Who could have foreseen that the fellow would take advantage of the angle to turn his head and bite right onto the side of Ling Kongmiao’s neck?

It didn’t draw blood this time, but it was honestly worse than drawing blood.

Jiang Tianji held his neck between his teeth and gently nibbled. Anyone with eyes could tell what that meant.

Ling Kongmiao’s posture stiffened for a split second. Once he reacted, he instantly forced the guy’s head back straight.

Outside the glass, everyone tacitly averted their gazes. Jiang Yan cleared her throat softly and said to Elder Sun:

“Elder Sun, it’s been a long time.” She gestured toward the balcony at the end of the corridor. “May I have a word with you in private?”

“Sure, I happen to have something I want to ask you about as well.”

The two walked toward the end of the hallway. This was an unopened area with dim lighting. Jiang Yan pushed open the window, letting the cool night breeze ruffle her hair.

“How have you been doing lately, Elder Sun?” Jiang Yan said. “Sun Fei is young and capable; he holds quite a high reputation in Special Ops with a bright future ahead of him.”

“That grandson of mine just acts proper on the outside—once he gets home, he’s a lazy slack-off.” He shook his head. “Alright, let’s skip the pleasantries. It’s rare for us to run into each other.”

“That boy carries the genes of a ‘Hunter’.”

Elder Sun stood beside Jiang Yan, his gaze sweeping over the distant observation room as he spoke with utter bluntness.

“A lot of his files in the Gene Research Institute were erased. Hiding him for so long couldn’t have been easy for you.”

Jiang Yan closed her eyes. A trace of soft emotion flickered through her usually sharp gaze. She didn’t hide anything, speaking in a low voice:

“It was a trust left to me by an old friend. Elder Sun, I also owe you my thanks.”

“It was a minor favor, no need for thanks.”

“Decades ago, my mentor told me that for those of us in this field, every time we step into an experimental base in the future, we must ask ourselves one thing: Do we still hold awe for life and nature?“

He took off his glasses and wiped the dust off them.

“At that time, I didn’t think much of it. Who on earth would be crazy enough to ask themselves that every day? Everyone just laughed it off and coaxed the old master, saying yes, yes, yes, we’ll ask ourselves three times a day.”

“Decades have passed, and I suddenly understand why my mentor wore that expression when he said those words.”

He put his glasses back on, concealing the faint tear shimmer in his eyes: “I’m old and can’t help with much anymore. But whenever I see this child, I can’t help but remember a certain beat-worthy little bastard. He ran off with my most prized student… Back then, I was so angry I refused to see them, and in the end, I really never got to see them again.”

“Xiaoyan… it’s him, isn’t it?”

The night was desolately quiet. The old man held his hands behind his back, letting out a soft hum before Jiang Yan could even answer.

“He resembles my Ah Qing—nothing like that little bastard.”

“Elder Sun, I was actually planning to coax you a bit,” Jiang Yan sighed, her chuckle echoing clearly down the empty hallway. “But those dark green eyes really are identical to that ‘little bastard’s’.”

It was late into the night. Elder Sun was, after all, getting up in age; after chatting for a little while longer, he waved his hand, saying he was going back to rest.

Not long after Jiang Yan saw him off, she caught a glimpse of silver-white from the corner of her eye. She turned around to see Ling Kongmiao walking toward her.

Her gaze unreservedly sized up the person before her, her direct eyes finally landing on the side of his neck—where an adhesive bandage had been placed.

Ling Kongmiao occasionally felt that Jiang Tianji truly was raised by Jiang Yan. Feeling uncomfortable under her stare, he cleared his throat softly.

“His condition is temporarily stabilized, much better than expected. Dr. He mentioned there are signs of him regaining consciousness.”

Jiang Yan nodded. After a moment of silence, she suddenly asked:

“If he hadn’t pulled through today, what were you planning to do?”

Ling Kongmiao lowered his eyes: “I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

“When I saw his beast form awaken today, my heart panicked for a moment. I was genuinely terrified I wouldn’t get to see him again.”

Jiang Yan didn’t seem surprised by his non-answer, speaking to herself:

“The thing I spent the longest time thinking about in my life was naming him. I deliberated for a long time, but in the end, I didn’t dare endow him with any specific grand meaning, so I named him Tianji—meaning ‘entrusted to the heavens’.”

“On the day his official documents were processed, a staff member carelessly registered it as Tianji—meaning ‘the edge of the sky’. Thinking about it now, perhaps he truly belonged to the sky all along.”

“He likes you very much. As a mother, I don’t want my child to get hurt.”

Jiang Yan looked intently at Ling Kongmiao: “I hope we aren’t enemies.”

As she spoke, she glanced at the time on her device, turning around to walk toward the elevator.

She had only taken two steps forward when a quiet yet resolute voice came from behind her:

“I would kill him.”

Jiang Yan stopped in her tracks, turning around to re-evaluate Ling Kongmiao.

He fit the moon outside the window extraordinarily well; the soft breeze blew through his silver hair bathed in moonlight, his blue eyes resembling a vast ocean.

“If there ever comes a day when his will vanishes… I will kill him with my own hands.”