Chapter 71

Hels enunciated clearly and articulately: “Hubby.”

Horne: “…”

He only felt his eyelids twitch violently. He had no idea how things had developed to this point.

What exactly had he learned during that month at the Warfallen Asylum?

Han Ya opened his mouth, his finger pointing straight at Hels, his face flushed red. He held back for a long time without managing to say a word.

Wen Yu burst out laughing with a “pfft” from the side, adding fuel to the fire as she teased: “That’s a nice form of address. I reckon Horne will never fall in love in his lifetime. Let him experience it.”

Hels nodded in great satisfaction.

Han Ya completely collapsed. He grabbed Wen Yu’s shoulder and shook it frantically: “You’re crazy, you’re crazy! How did you get led astray by this brat too? I can’t take this anymore, just destroy me!”

Wen Yu just laughed and subtly observed Ben Yian.

Ben Yian, who stood silently on the side without speaking, looked very unwell. The muscles under his ear bulged as he gritted his teeth hard. Watching the four people’s interactions, he finally couldn’t hold back and took a step forward, trying to pull Horne over. But before his hand could touch, Hels intercepted it even more swiftly.

“What are you pulling my Hubby for?” Hels’s tone was blunt and direct. He slapped Ben Yian’s hand away and darted between the two.

He hadn’t even gone to settle scores with Ben Yian yet, and the man had come knocking himself?

Ben Yian’s fingertips trembled, but he restrained himself well. His tone was just uncomfortable: “You’re always so rude. What does that make Horne think?”

“What does it matter what my Hubby thinks?”

Han Ya flailed his arms wildly: “Horne, do something about this brat. I can’t take it anymore!”

Hels grew impatient: “If you can’t take it, then get out.”

Ben Yian was on the verge of collapse: “Hels!”

Han Ya went berserk: “I’ll fight you!”

“Stop arguing!” Horne couldn’t hold back and roared. Silence fell instantly.

There were clearly only five people in the space, yet it felt like five hundred people were chattering nonstop in his ears.

Hels flopped back onto Horne’s favorite black sofa, looking completely at home.

Horne was still thinking that no matter the outcome, this matter couldn’t be known to the public yet. If it was related to the child disappearance incident from back then, it needed even more cautious handling.

Wen Yu suddenly asked: “Are you okay?”

Several gazes focused over at once.

Horne pulled back his thoughts. He first looked toward Wen Yu, thinking she was speaking to him, but he realized she wasn’t looking at him. He followed her gaze to the other side.

Ben Yian was drenched in sweat, his hands trembling almost imperceptibly, but up close, it was still noticeable.

It was as if a spotlight shone on his head, putting the sweat-soaked him on stage for everyone to watch.

Ben Yian noticed too. He looked up in slight surprise and saw everyone staring at him in confusion.

Horne frowned, temporarily set aside his thoughts, walked to his side, and glanced at his forehead—fine beads of moisture densely packed.

How was he sweating so much? Horne asked him softly: “What’s wrong? Not feeling well? Do you want to go back and rest first?”

Dense fine sweat kept surging out layer after layer from his forehead. Ben Yian felt he could hardly conceal it anymore. Things were already messy enough, and now he had to face this too. A little more, and he would completely collapse. Why had he notified Horne back then that the child had run out in the middle of the night? He could have pretended not to know. That way, Horne wouldn’t have been punished, and there wouldn’t be this situation now.

Horne’s concern exploded like a torpedo in the deep sea. Being asked so directly, his hands began to tremble noticeably.

He had no choice, no choice! He couldn’t make a decision. He couldn’t watch his sister leave, nor could he betray his conscience or betray Horne, and he didn’t want to see Hels standing between them either. Every thought, every glance, was immense pain and torment. Why did he have to choose?

“What’s wrong with you?” Han Ya walked over and patted his shoulder.

Ben Yian reflexively stepped back. Han Ya’s hand froze in midair. His eyes blinked several times as he looked toward Wen Yu, then Horne, but both just shook their heads.

Ben Yian closed his eyes. When he and his sister had received that beam of light on a cold night, he had thought that he must repay this person in the future. But he gradually realized that getting close to this person was like approaching the light itself.

This person was so warm that all the darkness and cold of the world sought to devour him.

Yet he remained the only light.

At this moment, the worry in that beam of light’s eyes was so real, just like all those years in the past, never changing.

But on what basis could this beam of light remain forever pure?

“Do you want me to take you back?” Horne asked.

Ben Yian pursed his lips lightly: “No, no need. I just… just…”

He couldn’t say it after a long while.

Horne didn’t know what had happened and simply said: “It’s okay. We’re all here.”

They would always be there, just like they always had been.

Ben Yian closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then slowly opened them. The redness in his eyes gradually faded.

He gritted his teeth as if making a firm decision, turned to face Horne, and said solemnly in a hoarse voice: “Little Horne, the Ganal government hopes for your slow death.”

Horne froze. Beside him, Hels sat up straight on the sofa, dropping his playful tone as he asked lowly: “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. Woody only told me that much.” Ben Yian closed his eyes in pain, his heart sinking, but he still decided to spill the words he had hidden for so long.

“Sorry, Horne. Back then when you… you asked me about Woody, I said I didn’t know, but actually… actually we knew each other long before. But later when he came as deputy, I really… really didn’t know. We had a good relationship before, so I didn’t want to clash with him head-on. He said the government was researching immortality particles, and if used only for body repair, the success rate was very high. Ben Mu could be saved, and he would help me, but… but I had to cooperate with their suppression of you.”

The scales that had swayed for a long time came to a stop. Ben Yian still spilled his entire conversation with Woody.

Everyone fell silent instantly.

Horne had long known about his relationship with Woody and wasn’t surprised. But he hadn’t expected that after obeying for so many years, he hadn’t erased his presence—instead, it made them eye him even more covetously.

They had probably planned from the start how to use Ben Yian’s position as deputy.

Send away Han Ya and Wen Yu, then use Ben Mu to restrict Ben Yian, betting on Ben Yian’s relationship with Horne. Hels had been young then, Horne isolated and powerless, completely sidelined. If not for the submission all these years, there might have been even more targeting.

They circled the corpse on the floor. Though it no longer smelled, the air still carried a rotten stench, as if skin had been cut open and filthy blood flowed out.

It was somewhat expected. Horne sighed, walked up to Ben Yian, looked at him earnestly, his eyes still gentle: “Did these things put a lot of pressure on you? Is that why you were like that just now?”

Ben Yian nodded, trying hard not to let himself show an overly pained expression from losing control again.

Horne was still concerned about him.

“It’s okay. I can handle it myself. Are you in a difficult spot?” Horne asked again.

Ben Yian tilted his head up, breathing deeply repeatedly, his throat bobbing as he swallowed the pain, then nodded. His voice was like faint ripples: “Yeah, I want to save Ben Mu, but I don’t want to harm you.”

He hesitated, then his face wrinkled entirely, revealing deeper regret. He directly covered his face with both hands, his voice muffled through the gaps between his fingers: “Sorry, sorry. I actually really considered it. Sorry.”

Horne didn’t react much and just patted his back lightly: “It’s fine. Let’s discuss what to do next now.”

He understood Ben Yian. A moment of pain was enough; there were more important matters.

“I’m really done with this. This, oh man, I…” Han Ya slapped the sofa, unable to organize his words for a moment, itching with hatred.

Ben Yian lowered his hands, his face flushed red. He suppressed his pain and said slowly: “Sorry, but… but I just had a new idea…”

He could pretend to agree to Woody’s recruitment, infiltrate their midst, and obtain information for his own people.

Horne frowned: “Don’t use Ben Mu for experiments. We don’t know if she’s still her after fusing with xenomorph particles.”

“But if we don’t, it’s hard to learn more.” Ben Yian grew a bit urgent, his speech speeding up. “Little Horne, I really need Ben Mu. If this can let her live healthily even for a short time, I’d be satisfied. At the same time, I can learn their specific plans, so we can come up with countermeasures faster if they make moves, instead of always groping in the dark.”

It was a win-win decision. Horne neither agreed nor disagreed; his furrowed brows never relaxed.

He felt a bit heartbroken. Ben Yian shouldered too much, and now he had to become a double agent.

Ben Yian turned Horne’s shoulders, hands bracing them, staring into his eyes seriously: “Believe me. I can do it.”

Hels’s gaze fell on the hands supporting Horne’s shoulders. He said lightly: “Talk if you’re talking. Take your hands off.”

Ben Yian’s fingers tensed, suppressing for several seconds before slowly lowering his hands.

Horne insisted on refusing anything alien-related, but he couldn’t interfere with Ben Yian’s desire to save his sister.

Wen Yu let out a long sigh: “Let’s try it first. Stop immediately if there’s any problem.”

“I think it’s okay too.” Han Ya followed up.

Someone had to do it.

Horne’s gaze fell on the corpse on the floor, covered in spots and reddish-black bloodstains—they clearly hadn’t cleaned it thoroughly.

Wen Yu continued: “If we’re going to verify the lab, I suggest binding the resident chips tomorrow. It’s beneficial for dual combat too.”

Ben Yian looked at her and nodded.

“Where did those old fossils build the lab?” Han Ya asked. “If we find their base, we should get data on their human experiments, right?”

This spawned another problem. Horne had been silently pondering: if they found the lab and evidence of the government’s human experiments, how to preserve that evidence? Publicize it? What would be the result?

If humanity’s last city didn’t fall to external enemies but crumbled from within?

“Warfallen Asylum.” Ben Yian clearly spat out the three words, breaking the silence.

Horne looked up, somewhat surprised.

Ben Yian repeated solemnly: “Warfallen Asylum. The lab is in the Warfallen Asylum.” He looked at everyone.

Everyone’s heartbeats were clearly audible in the living room.

The alien fusion lab had been in a separate research institution years ago. Later, when experimental subjects ran short, they moved it to the Warfallen Asylum—the most inconspicuous place. The elderly, weak, sick, disabled, and orphans could all become their low-cost test subjects.

Horne had visited the Warfallen Asylum several times and never noticed anything unusual. He thought of how Hels had just returned from there.

But Hels probably wasn’t interested in these things. At the moment, he still lounged lazily on the sofa, looking like none of it concerned him.

“I’ll go find Woody right away and tell you as soon as I have news.” Ben Yian said. He turned to Horne, hesitated, then softened his voice: “Little Horne, then tomorrow we’ll go bind the chips…”

Before he finished, he was interrupted.

“Why does my Hubby need to bind with you?” Hels stood up and walked straight to Horne. He draped an arm over Horne’s shoulder and with a slight pull, drew him into his chest’s range.

He was just a little taller, making the embrace natural, as if done countless times.

Horne then realized there were five of them—someone was bound to be left out.

Horne patted Hels’s hand to signal him to let go, but Hels didn’t budge. His gaze fixed straight on Ben Yian, almost in a challenging stance.

Seeing Hels’s intimacy with Horne, Ben Yian felt his temples throb hard. Suppressing his anger, he said: “This is something we agreed on long ago!” As he spoke, he looked toward Han Ya and Wen Yu, as if waiting for support.

The two stepped back simultaneously. Han Ya crossed his arms in an X in front of his chest: “Why look at me? That’s your business.”

Horne felt a bit helpless: “Hels, let go.”

Hels scoffed, withdrew his hand, sat back into the sofa comfortably, and said indifferently: “Decide for yourself.” With that, he simply closed his eyes, too lazy to watch them.

Horne sighed and turned back: “I think Hels might need it more…”

Before he could finish speaking, all of Ben Yian’s anger surged up like a dam bursting, suddenly erupting. “Why does he need to?! A waste who should have died long ago—where exactly am I inferior to him? He’s twelve years younger than you! Horne! He can’t even protect you!”

He pointed at the person lounging comfortably on the sofa, eyes glaring as he shouted loudly.