Chapter 51: He Touched You Again?

“…”

He had learned all the wrong things and none of the right ones.

Lin Jianxi’s ears rang with the desperate cries of people and the guttural growls of zombies.

It was piercing.

Without thinking, he blurted out, “Xiao Ze, that sort of thing is only for husbands and wives.”

“But in a world like this, laws mean nothing. Does morality even matter anymore?” Xiao Ze replied. “Their lives are what’s truly important, aren’t they?”

“If you know that, then why do it?” Lin Jianxi’s pupils quivered faintly.

“Because I’m not human. I’m a monster.” Xiao Ze laughed. “I don’t care about anything except having a good time.”

“You really won’t kiss me?” Xiao Ze sounded aggrieved. “In that case, I’ll just kill them off one by one.”

~~~

In the instant their lips met, Xiao Ze pulled him into an embrace—one so achingly familiar that it turned Lin Jianxi’s stomach.

It wasn’t hatred for Xiao Ze.

It was the shattering of every belief he held, the overwhelming shock that his mind simply couldn’t process.

Lin Jianxi’s lips brushed the corner of Xiao Ze’s mouth, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Why… Why had it come to this?

Why, after five years with their team—five whole years of grueling days that started before dawn and ended long after dusk, skipping meals for experiments, chugging coffee to stay awake, sharing jokes to lift spirits, and hiding in bathroom stalls to silently bash their heads against the wall during breakdowns—had all their hard work led to this?

Where had they gone wrong?

Lin Jianxi squeezed his eyes shut, and tears spilled down his cheeks.

He had never cried before.

But today, the pain was unbearable.

“Mommy…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“…”

Lin Jianxi sank to the ground and buried his face in his knees.

Everyone else had left. What was he supposed to do, all alone?

Was it truly their experiment that had gone wrong?

From what Xiao Ze had said, Lin Jianxi was almost certain there was a flaw in their research plan—but whether it had triggered the apocalypse remained unclear.

He stared at the ground, his vision growing blurrier.

If it was…

Then he had failed his teammates, failed everyone—and most of all, failed Xiao Ze.

“Don’t cry,” Xiao Ze said, crouching in front of him. “Does one little kiss really hurt you this much?”

“Let them go,” Lin Jianxi said without lifting his head.

“…” Xiao Ze fell silent.

Even if Xiao Ze wasn’t human, Lin Jianxi had raised him with his own hands. How had he ended up like this? How had he been twisted into something so cruel?

“Let them go!” Lin Jianxi snapped, on the verge of breaking down as he glared at Xiao Ze. “You have no empathy, and now you’re lying too?”

Xiao Ze had never seen him like this before. He froze for a moment. “…I’m not lying.”

With a casual wave of his hand, the zombies scattered in awkward, lurching steps.

Dozens of humans clambered out of the pit, kicking up clouds of dust as they fled in every direction.

Some ran toward the setting sun, others away from it.

Different paths led to different horizons.

But for him…

Lin Jianxi rose slowly to his feet.

He had no path to choose.

Surrounded by the remnants of joy in the Abandoned Amusement Park—faded laughter echoing in every corner—the stark contrast only deepened his despair.

Lin Jianxi forced himself to calm down.

“Xiao Ze,” he said after steadying his breathing. It took a moment. “Whatever harm I’ve caused you, I’ll make it right. I won’t leave you… And you know that even if I tried to run, there’s nowhere for me to go.”

There were three major powers in the world now.

Neither the Orthodox Faction nor the Concentration Camp would shelter him. Anywhere he went, he’d be thrown in chains.

Even if he told the Orthodox Faction he could develop an antidote, what then? He was the architect of the apocalypse, the creator of the Special Medicine. No one would believe him.

The moment he succeeded, they’d execute him to safeguard humanity’s future.

But he couldn’t die.

Not yet. He owed his team the truth.

Who had unleashed this Chimeric Virus? What was its purpose? Why did everyone believe their team was responsible?

The weight of those questions and responsibilities pressed down on him. Lin Jianxi was exhausted, but he couldn’t afford to rest. He couldn’t give up.

He wouldn’t let his team suffer this injustice for nothing.

“But… please give me some freedom. Let me uncover the truth. All right?”

Lin Jianxi faced Xiao Ze, though his gaze drifted to the carousel nearby.

Xiao Ze had never been to a place like this, not since the day he was born.

The realization stabbed even deeper.

The agony of watching his life’s work crumble, his faith personally undone… it hurt too much.

In that moment, Lin Jianxi finally understood Qin Mu.

When your efforts vanished into nothing and your own beliefs destroyed your achievements, there was no escaping the abyss.

You could drown in it forever.

~~~

Three years slipped by.

True to his word, Xiao Ze granted Lin Jianxi a measure of freedom and refrained from harming humans at random.

In those three years, the Orthodox Faction and the Concentration Camp grew into the world’s dominant opposing forces.

The Concentration Camp controlled humanity through Special Medicine, enforcing a rigid class system. Those under its sway lived in squalid slums. With its base in the south, it became known as the South Faction.

The Orthodox Faction drew voluntary recruits. It had leaders but no stark hierarchies—everyone was equal. Based in the north, it was called the North Faction.

~~~

In a certain Underground Bar.

This was North Faction territory, and Lin Jianxi frequented it from time to time.

Masked and hat pulled low, he slipped inside without a word.

In this broken world, pleasure was a distant memory. People drowned their sorrows in alcohol, so the bar was packed—yet most patrons were listless or blackout drunk. No one spared him a glance.

Lin Jianxi made his way to the counter and rapped on the surface. “One Number Five. The strongest.”

The bartender led him to a small side room.

Pushing open the door, he found a young man with a gentle demeanor seated there. Spotting Lin Jianxi, the man rose and pulled out a chair for him.

Once the bartender left, Lin Jianxi removed his mask and hat, then took a seat.

“Jiang Mi,” he said. “What happened?”

This Jiang Mi was the doctor who had once lived in the neighboring cell. Now he worked for the North Faction, holding a mid-to-high-level position.

Jiang Mi’s gaze fell on the marks at his neck and wrists. Heartache surged in his eyes, along with a flicker of anger he could barely contain. “He touched you again?”

“…”

The words dredged up ugly memories for Lin Jianxi.

His body still ached everywhere; nothing felt right.

Without a change in his expression, he tugged his sleeve down farther, lifted the glass of wine from the table, and took a sip, trying to quell the odd sensations plaguing him.

“Jiang Mi,” Lin Jianxi said, dodging the subject, his voice as cool and steady as ever, “I’m fine. But you—why the urgency to reach out? What’s happened? Trouble with the medicine, or…?”

“Professor Lin,” Jiang Mi replied with a soft sigh. He knew better than to press and let the matter drop. After a pause, he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “The medicine you refined is perfect, of course. No, it’s something else—something critical…”

For the past few years, Lin Jianxi had stayed in touch with Jiang Mi. Now and then, he’d assist as a lab assistant, tweaking experimental protocols to develop treatments for the illness. Unlike the Special Medicine, these didn’t demand ongoing use; a single dose at the onset of symptoms sufficed.

But they had their downsides.

Reexposure to the virus after recovery led straight back to infection, and repeated bouts eroded the body’s functions until collapse. That was why some gave up and crossed over to the South Faction for the Special Medicine, taking it willingly.

“The South Faction’s even less humane these days than it was back then,” Jiang Mi said, his face darkening. “Management aside, the rest live without a shred of dignity—either as slaves or toys for amusement, dying off in waves. They’re only getting bolder. Yesterday, I learned they’re staging a medical resource swap with the North Faction right nearby. And their point man is… Qin Mu.”

Lin Jianxi’s hand shook on his glass. “He’s Arlo’s trusted aide. He’s earned his place.”

“But Professor Lin,” Jiang Mi pressed, his implication clear, “you’re using the alias Lin Kai in the Laboratory, but Qin Mu knows you inside and out. He probably spotted you ages ago—that’s why he’s behind this. It’s no resource exchange. It’s the first agreement between the factions in nearly three years, all to smoke you out.”

“…Mm.”

Jiang Mi seized his hand, his tone deadly serious. “Whichever side gets you, it’s a catastrophe. The South Faction’s leaders are raving madmen. I’m here for your take: should we scrap this fake identity and stash you with Xiao Ze for a bit? I get it—you’re desperate for news on Jiang Yan, desperate to clear your team’s name. But the timing’s all wrong. Too risky—”

“Jiang Mi.” Lin Jianxi met his eyes steadily. “They’ve agreed on this. Can you swear they won’t camp here forever? I can’t afford to wait. That Laboratory used to be ours—your group’s. Secrets are buried there, ones we haven’t uncovered yet. I have to stay.”

Lin Jianxi rubbed his brow in exhaustion. “I’ll find another angle. I know Jiang Yan’s methods cold; he left something behind, I’m sure of it.”

Just then—

“Bang!!”

The small room’s door flew open.

The server stumbled in, ashen-faced. “Doctor Jiang, it’s bad! Qin Mu’s out front, talking about soaking in some North Faction local color…”

Lin Jianxi tuned out the rest. He yanked his mask tight, tugged his hat low, zipped his jacket to the chin, and rose to slip outside.

He melted into the shadows with practiced ease, but on his first step, familiar footsteps echoed—precise, rhythmic.

The bar music cut off. Outside, the crowd had either been cleared or frozen silent. The place was dead quiet.

The steps closed in, radiating unquestioned authority.

Moments later, men in the South Faction’s dark gray uniforms filled the doorway. Two posted at the entrance, the others blocking the hall.

Then Qin Mu appeared, clad head to toe in black.

He still sported that utilitarian watch. Sharper and more hardened than years before, a chill smile curled his lips.

His eyes raked the room before locking unerringly on Lin Jianxi.

Just like three years back in the Prison—he picked him out in an instant.

“Doctor Jiang,” Qin Mu said. His voice carried more ease and arrogance now than it had then. “Passing through, figured I’d taste some North Faction flavor. We’re old acquaintances—care to share a drink?”

He addressed Jiang Mi, but his stare stayed glued to Lin Jianxi.

“…” Jiang Mi said nothing.

Qin Mu advanced without haste, brushing past everyone to halt before him. The shadow of his towering frame pressed down oppressively.

“And who’s this?” Qin Mu asked with feigned interest. His gaze traced the bundled figure, his tone laced with suggestion. “Fine build you’ve got there. Doctor Jiang, your researchers all this prime? Must make the job… a real pleasure.”

He reached out—

In the Prison days, Qin Mu’s reaches had just two aims.

First: feeding him.

Second: hauling him onto his lap, fingers working his shirt buttons loose, delving in without a care, nails grazing skin as he smirked at the tremors.

Lin Jianxi jerked his head aside on reflex—

Qin Mu let out a low laugh.

Only then did Lin Jianxi see: he wasn’t reaching for him, but for the wineglass on the table—the one he’d drunk from. He held it up, inspecting. “Your house special?”

“Mm,” Jiang Mi said.

Qin Mu nodded. His fingertip hovered near the rim, where Lin Jianxi’s lips had pressed—a faint imprint lingered.

“Mask on so tight,” Qin Mu remarked, studying the glass. “Scared of showing your face? Or scared I’ll feed you myself?”

“…”

Lin Jianxi’s fingers twitched at his side.

Qin Mu glanced down, bending closer. Lin Jianxi spotted the stiff badge on his uniform—exact match for the one on Arlo.

Qin Mu’s rank now matched Arlo’s, level for level.

“You’re joking,” Jiang Mi said, darting forward in a single swift step and smoothly inserting himself between them. “This is Lin Kai, one of our lab researchers. His face was badly scarred during the escape—it can be pretty frightening. The hat and mask are just for his peace of mind, a sense of security.”

“Oh, I see.”

Qin Mu nodded and retreated half a step, as though he’d suddenly lost interest. Yet his eyes continued to flick toward Lin Jianxi’s faintly trembling fingertips and the small expanse of pale skin visible at his neck.

Lin Jianxi knew Qin Mu had recognized him.

Jiang Mi knew it too, but he played along with the scenario Qin Mu had crafted.

After all… if Qin Mu breathed a word of Lin Jianxi’s true identity, it would all be over.

At the height of the tension, Qin Mu glanced down at his watch. “Tch, time’s up. Doctor Jiang, if you wouldn’t mind showing me to your laboratory.”

With that, he shifted slightly to the side. “Our top batch of experimenters is waiting just outside. I’m confident our collaboration will lead to a successful antidote—wouldn’t you agree, Lin Kai?”

“…Mm.” Lin Jianxi murmured in response.

The antidote was nothing more than bait to draw him out.

No one dared actually develop it.

Qin Mu went on, “The scene you’re about to witness will come as quite the surprise.”

Lin Jianxi picked up on the implication lurking behind those words and frowned faintly.

“What do you mean?” He lifted his head, revealing his striking eyes beneath the brim of his hat.

Qin Mu’s gaze faltered for a beat, as if caught off guard.

A moment later, he replied, “You’re sharp—you’ll figure it out soon enough. Once you see that scene, if there’s anything you want to know…”

Abruptly, Qin Mu stepped half a pace closer. That familiar shadow of his presence enveloped Lin Jianxi once more, tightening his body without conscious thought.

“Don’t move.” Qin Mu’s voice dropped to a husky murmur, laced with unmistakable authority.

Lin Jianxi felt the man’s fingers deftly lifting the hem of his slightly oversized shirt. A draft of cool air slipped beneath the fabric, sending a shiver racing across his skin.

His pants fit snugly, and in the instant those fingertips hooked into his pocket, Lin Jianxi felt the touch all too clearly.

Qin Mu’s maneuver stayed out of Jiang Mi’s sightline. To him, it might have looked like nothing more than an intense stare-down, a covert exchange of information.

But only Lin Jianxi knew what Qin Mu had tucked into his pants pocket.

Qin Mu let out a soft, knowing chuckle. “Any questions you have, feel free to come find me here anytime. I’ll give you all the answers, Lin… Kai.”

~~~

Jiang Mi led the group from the front, pointing the way.

Lin Jianxi trailed at the rear by himself. His fingers delved into his waistband, brushing against a hard corner.

Slowly, he drew the object out.

It was a keycard to the North Faction Employee Lounge.