The eyeball gazed innocently at Lin Juan.
“Mr. Lin, should we send it back?” Su Xingchen observed it for a while and saw no special reaction, so he tentatively spoke up.
Who knew, before he finished speaking, the eyeball rolled around menacingly, staring at him unkindly.
Su Xingchen raised both hands in surrender. “I won’t say it.”
The eyeball slowly rolled back and continued to stare at Lin Juan.
Ignoring the fact that it was a weird phenomenon, just looking at it like this, it actually seemed quite harmless.
Lin Juan lowered his gaze to examine the eyeball.
No. 1 was different from the other eyeballs. As the person who cared for them, Lin Juan knew this better than anyone, though he had no idea why it was different.
“Send it back.” If the people in the lab found out he had taken an experimental subject out without authorization, there would be trouble.
No. 1 clung tightly to Lin Juan’s hand, as if it didn’t want to be sent away.
No one knew how a single eyeball could look so pitiful and endearing.
Su Xingchen and Sheng Tianzong were curious in their hearts. “How about we keep it here for now?”
No matter how they looked at it, this special eyeball was likely the breakthrough in this experiment.
“If you’re worried about being discovered, we’ve already been away from Experiment Zone 5 for a while. Sending it back now won’t make much difference,” Sheng Tianzong analyzed.
He had a point. Lin Juan thought for a moment and nodded. “Alright.”
Considering No. 1 was there, they didn’t say too much. Soon, Sheng Tianzong and Su Xingchen left, leaving Lin Juan alone in the room.
Lin Juan found an empty box and put the eyeball inside. No. 1 didn’t want to stay in it and bounced around, trying to jump out.
Lin Juan extended a finger and pressed it down. “If you want to stay, then behave and stay inside.”
No. 1 rubbed against Lin Juan’s finger and then stopped moving.
Lin Juan withdrew his hand, turned, and went into the bathroom. It was late, so after washing up, he went to sleep.
Ten minutes later, Lin Juan came out. He first glanced at the box. The eyeball’s position hadn’t changed; it was staring in the direction where he had been when he turned away.
He left a small nightlight on and lay down on the bed.
Under the dim light, Lin Juan’s breathing evened out as he fell asleep.
No. 1 waited for a long time, confirming Lin Juan was asleep, then slowly jumped out of the box. It hopped all the way to the bedside, jumped onto the bed, and nestled against Lin Juan’s arm without moving.
Lin Juan had a dream.
In the dream, he lay on the empty ground of Experiment Zone 5. The circular transparent containment box had vanished, and a single eyeball stood beside him, staring unblinkingly.
It was No. 1.
Lin Juan propped himself up. The sensation under his hand was soft, sticky, and slick—not like the ground. He looked down and realized what he was lying on wasn’t the floor at all, but layers upon layers of eyeballs.
All those eyeballs were looking at him.
Strangely, Lin Juan didn’t feel afraid. He simply sat up calmly.
As he moved, the eyeballs moved too.
They leaped up and approached Lin Juan.
Eyeballs of all sizes formed a circular enclosure around him, layers pressing tightly against him.
A cool, slippery sensation came as they touched him. Lin Juan could almost feel the eyeballs pressing against his skin, as if they wanted to squeeze into his body and merge with him as one.
His reason screamed to break free, but his body lacked the strength. Startled, Lin Juan woke up.
Why had he dreamed something like that?
Lin Juan immediately looked toward the box.
Inside the box, the eyeball gazed at him innocently.
Lin Juan withdrew his gaze and checked the time: 6:50.
Time to get up.
The thing he hated most about this place was waking up early.
He had to rise before seven without fail, and with morning grumpiness kicking in, Lin Juan wanted nothing more than to punch right through this illusion.
Especially after having such an unsettling dream.
Grouchy from sleep, he washed up and changed clothes, stuffed No. 1 into his pocket, and opened the door.
Sheng Tianzong and Su Xingchen were already waiting outside. One of their daily tasks was to escort Lin Juan to and from work.
The resentment on Lin Juan was obvious. Su Xingchen scanned the surroundings, confirmed no one was around, and asked in a low voice, “Did something happen last night?”
He didn’t know where Lin Juan had put No. 1; just like when they returned yesterday, they couldn’t sense its presence at all.
“It’s it…”
Lin Juan shook his head. “Nothing. I had a bad dream and didn’t sleep well.”
Not wanting others to notice anything amiss, Lin Juan quickly adjusted his emotions.
Entering and exiting the inner areas of Experiment Zone 5 required security checks. Lin Juan didn’t know how No. 1 had avoided them last night, but when he went in, no alarms had triggered.
The containment box for No. 1 sat on the workbench. The box was fully transparent, designed for clear observation of the subject inside.
At that moment, an unmoving eyeball squatted in the corner of the containment box.
Lin Juan pressed his hand in his pocket. The real No. 1 was in there, so what was in the containment box?
Puzzled inside but showing nothing on his face, Lin Juan walked to the containment box, opened the side feeding port, and tossed in some food.
His pocket lightened as the real No. 1 returned to the containment box. It perked up like it had come alive and scooted over to eat.
No wonder the people in the monitoring room hadn’t noticed anything.
When Lin Juan wasn’t around, or when it couldn’t get his attention, No. 1 either stayed perfectly still to observe his every move or huddled in the corner of the containment box, dormant and unmoving.
Lin Juan acted as if he had noticed nothing and proceeded with his usual recording and experiments.
That evening on the way back, as expected, there was another eyeball in his pocket.
For three straight days, he had the same dream, all after No. 1 came back with him. Lin Juan turned a suspicious gaze toward No. 1.
Once could be a fluke, but twice, three times? Hardly coincidence.
He lay on the bed, breathing evenly as if asleep.
No. 1 observed for a while, waited half an hour, then silently jumped out of the box.
Familiar with the path, it hopped onto the bed. No longer content to huddle against him through the blanket, it burrowed under the covers and shifted to his arm.
It found the closest spot and stopped moving.
Just as it closed its “eye,” its body suddenly lifted into the air.
The dorm lit up bright.
It opened its eye to meet Lin Juan’s scrutinizing gaze.
“As expected, it’s related to you.” Lin Juan narrowed his eyes slightly as he examined the eyeball in his hand.
Lin Juan had never been able to distinguish between the eyeballs in Experiment Zone 5 until one risked everything to protect him.
No. 1 was completely different from the other experimental subjects.
It held many mysteries, and Lin Juan wanted answers, so he had indulged some of its behaviors. But that didn’t mean he would indulge everything.
Was the scene in his dream—wanting to completely engulf and merge with him—No. 1’s true intent?
After a period of careful feeding, No. 1 had grown quite a bit, glossy and slick, clearly well-nourished.
Lin Juan was about to say something when a piercing alarm blared outside.
He quickly dressed, shoved No. 1 into his pocket, and warned, “Behave. We’ll settle your account later.”
He rushed out of the dorm. Sheng Tianzong and Su Xingchen emerged too. The three exchanged glances, and Lin Juan asked in a low voice, “What’s going on?”
Judging by the alarm’s direction, it came from Experiment Zone 5.
With tacit understanding, they didn’t need words and hurried toward Experiment Zone 5 in unison.
Along the way, they encountered many others rushing that way.
Sheng Tianzong and Su Xingchen acted as bodyguards, shielding Lin Juan’s sides. Experiment Zone 5 was already tightly surrounded by security personnel, blocking entry.
Lin Juan pushed through the armed guards and flashed his work badge. “I’m the person in charge of No. 1. It’s still inside—I need to know its status.”
Everyone in Experiment Zone 5 knew No. 1’s importance and didn’t dare stop Lin Juan. They simply assigned more people to escort him in.
It looked like an escort, but it was really surveillance.
Lin Juan ignored their true motives and strode straight to his work area.
Something had indeed happened.
The containment box was smashed open. Eyeballs had surged out and clustered excitedly in one spot, with a perimeter defense net pulled up, keeping everyone away.
“Can’t go in,” the lead person said gravely.
“What happened here?” Lin Juan asked while searching for No. 1’s containment box.
The box that should have been on the workbench was missing. No matter who caused the chaos, it was clear No. 1 was the target.
“Where’s No. 1?” Lin Juan’s voice carried urgency, like a researcher worried about his subject.
The security head in charge of lab safety knew these researchers valued experimental subjects above all and didn’t suspect him. “No. 1 should be in the middle of that eyeball pile.”
“What are they doing?” Lin Juan pressed. “Everything was fine when I left. How did this happen so suddenly?”
The head didn’t know the details either. After much reassuring, he finally got Lin Juan to step aside.
Because it involved No. 1, Lin Juan didn’t leave. He watched how the security handled out-of-control experimental subjects.
They used high-pressure water guns with electric currents to disperse the eyeballs, released paralytics, and once all were unconscious, operated mechanical arms to load them into new containment boxes.
A huge mass of eyeballs crammed together, indistinguishable.
Lin Juan stood before the massive containment box, frowning. “All thrown together like this—how will you find No. 1?”
“We marked No. 1 specially. No worries about mixing it up,” Mr. Qiao said as he hurried over after getting the news.
Lin Juan turned, brow furrowed. “I don’t care about the other subjects. I need to know No. 1’s status, and what exactly happened this time.”
Lin Juan insisted, and as No. 1’s primary handler—to whom No. 1 responded differently than to others—his value was irreplaceable until they could replicate No. 1. Mr. Qiao wouldn’t discard him easily.
Thus, until the incident was fully investigated, Mr. Qiao informed Lin Juan of the details.
A researcher had envied Lin Juan’s results. Since Lin Juan got No. 1 through an “accident,” maybe he could stage one too and get his own No. 1.
Driven by that obsession, he did something irreversible.
Lacking permission to open the containment box, he used a pre-smuggled tool to smash it. Unfortunately, the mindless subjects smelled food and swarmed him. The researcher was devoured completely without ever getting his No. 1.
Lin Juan made no comment.
Never mind how the researcher smuggled in a tool strong enough to shatter the containment box through layers of security—just the omnipresent surveillance in Experiment Zone 5 should have caught him the moment he entered.
It was probably like the “accident” he encountered last time: this incident was man-made too.
Likely frustrated with no research breakthroughs, they tried recreating Lin Juan’s process to get a new No. 1.
Even if it failed, they only lost an expendable researcher.
However, though they didn’t produce a second No. 1, among the eyeballs that devoured the researcher, they found a batch of seed eyeballs.
These eyeballs showed distinct microscopic mutations.
Lab researchers proposed a new method: cultivating eyeballs in human bodies.
The eyeballs were divided into five groups, one of which Mr. Qiao took away.
Lin Juan knew things had reached a critical point.
No. 1 was returned to him. With the new discovery, Mr. Qiao’s attention on No. 1 decreased, and the lab’s overall focus shifted.
