Chapter 22 – Found it, the scent of the Guide I’ve been looking for

Wrapped tightly in the tentacles, Ying Xize was yanked backward by a terrifying force.

The moment they brushed against his arms and legs, a biting chill seeped into his skin from their slick surface.

It felt like he’d been locked inside an ice-cold cage.

Shadows from the thorny thicket draped over him one layer at a time, light and darkness crossing his face in uneven streaks.

Ying Xize’s eyes slowly narrowed.

As if he already knew what was coming, his fingers quietly tightened around the small knife in his hand.

At last, the endless dragging stopped.

The tentacles around him slowly curled upward, surprisingly gentle as they supported Ying Xize and helped him stand steady. Then, without warning, they withdrew to either side.

Through the dim light, Ying Xize caught sight of a figure standing not far away.

The disgusting tentacles wrapped around it slid back completely, revealing a tall, slender silhouette dressed in a sharp, tailored suit. Even the leather shoes were polished to a flawless shine. If not for those eyes, where the whites had been entirely devoured by dark pupils, making its inhuman nature obvious, anyone would’ve taken it for a successful man in business.

The sunglasses had already been taken off and set aside, almost like a courteous little gesture made in advance for Ying Xize’s arrival.

Zero’s split lips curved upward, stretching nearly to his ears, drawing an unnaturally wide, chilling smile.

“The less human a monster is, the more it tries to dress itself up like one…”

A woman’s distant voice drifted through his mind, soft and faint, as though someone were whispering right next to his ear.

Ying Xize stared straight at the figure he would never forget. He didn’t even realize that his body had begun trembling slightly, a reflex he couldn’t control.

His fingers tightened visibly around the knife handle.

Putting aside any pretense of courtesy, Zero spoke with clear confusion in his voice. “Why did you step forward back then? That’s not like you. Or were you trying to force me to show myself?”

The alien motherform that had been trailing them seemed to think it had finally found its chance. Just as it was about to strike, tentacles burst out of nowhere again, intercepting it only a few steps away from Ying Xize.

That only made the motherform more restless. It shifted uneasily, clearly agitated, yet it also seemed deeply wary of this “human” who looked absurdly small compared to its massive body. It could only hover there, forced to hold itself back.

One tentacle slowly stopped just inches from Ying Xize’s cheek. It traced a smooth arc through the air beside his face, lingering with the clingy reluctance of a long-separated lover. “Were you that sure I wouldn’t let those things hurt you, Ah Ze?”

The entire thorny thicket was thick with an inhuman presence. Ying Xize could feel the cold sweat on his back. His clothes had long since been soaked through.

He raised his eyes and looked at the figure from his memories, something that seemed human, yet clearly wasn’t. A cold curve tugged at his lips. “Whether you would or wouldn’t… isn’t the answer obvious now?”

“Seems… you’re right.” Zero tilted its head, as if seriously considering his words, the smile on its face deepening. “Even though you’re always so heartless toward me, I still can’t help wanting… to forgive you without conditions.”

It gazed at Ying Xize without blinking, and little by little, something almost sincere appeared in its expression. “I’m really happy you were willing to come see me. Since I’ve already sensed the care behind your actions, how could I possibly let that down? Don’t you think?”

As the tentacles in front of him began moving again at their master’s command, Ying Xize swiftly erected layer upon layer of dense barriers around himself, blocking them firmly. “I thought after last time, you’d at least have developed some self-awareness, Zero.”

That single sentence seemed to hit a sore spot. The gentleness on Zero’s face twisted instantly. Its voice shot up, sharp and almost frantic, as though this was something utterly intolerable. “Why do you call me that as they do? No, you can’t call me that the same way they do. You know this, Ah Ze. You know I love hearing you call me Xiao Mo the most… That’s my real name!”

The surge of emotion sent the surrounding tentacles into a frenzy. Ying Xize could feel the barriers around him groaning under the pressure, and his face inevitably grew a shade paler.

Only his voice stayed the same—cold, stripped of any warmth.

Four simple words fell into the heavy air. “You don’t deserve it.”

“Don’t deserve it… You said that to me three years ago when we first met.” Zero’s tone softened again, almost indulgent. “But it’s fine. I won’t argue with you. You just don’t understand my good intentions yet. As long as you’re willing to stay, you’ll eventually see that I’m right.”

The tentacles suddenly tightened from every direction. A faint tremor crept into Zero’s voice, the rising lilt slowly bending into something dark, almost smiling. “Ah Ze, sooner or later, you’ll realize—this human world lost its right to exist long ago. From the moment we provoked those monsters, there were only two endings left: symbiosis… or destruction.”

Before the last word fully settled, Ying Xize moved.

His blade slashed out without warning.

The cold edge tore through the air in a sharp arc, slicing off the nearest tentacle tip. The severed end writhed, then twisted grotesquely, new flesh budding and swelling in its place.

Ying Xize looked straight at Zero, whose brows had drawn tight from the pain. His own expression was distant, almost merciless. “Sorry. If this half-human, half-monster state of yours is what you call symbiosis, then I’d rather choose destruction.”

Silence settled over the thicket for a brief, strained moment.

Zero’s voice, when it came again, carried a trace of pain. “Have you really forgotten what we used to be?”

Ying Xize lowered his eyes.

He hadn’t forgotten.

He still remembered the first time he saw Qi Mo—how that boy stood among the crowd, looking especially thin and fragile.

Back then, among the thousands of mutated infected, fewer than one in a thousand were lucky enough to receive the delayed serum in time. And out of those, fewer than ten managed to slow their mutation without being executed on the spot.

Desperate to escape the fate of completely turning, they volunteered at the research institute, becoming test subjects for the still-incomplete mutation treatment project.

Since they were around the same age, Ying Xize would always remember to bring Qi Mo something whenever he visited his mother’s lab. Sometimes it was a small toy to help pass the time. Sometimes it was a slice of freshly made mousse cake.

No one could have guessed that such simple, gentle kindness would end up turning into a story like the farmer and the viper.

Memories surged up all at once, crashing through his mind and making Ying Xize lose focus for the briefest moment.

Then Zero’s low laughter drifted over, near yet distant, like a curse echoing in the dark. “But it doesn’t matter… because soon, you won’t be your original self anymore either.”

Ying Xize’s expression darkened completely. Watching the tentacles around Zero rise and unfurl, the line of his lips pulled tight. “Give it up. You can’t keep me here.”

Zero smiled softly. “Now that we’ve finally met again, how would we know without trying?”

Sentinels and Guides healed far faster than ordinary people. The wound Ying Xize had made on himself during the convoy stop was already slowly closing.

Ying Xize tightened his hold on the blade, eyes locked on Zero’s every move. He was ready to cut himself again at any moment, to smear the edge with his deadly blood.

Just then, a wolf’s howl tore through the distance.

In the blink of an eye, two figures, one large, one small, burst straight into view.

Ying Xize didn’t even catch how the newcomer had rushed in.

By the time he came back to himself, the black wolf had already slammed a tentacle to the ground beneath its sharp fangs, ripping into it without mercy. At the same time, Su Fengzhou’s blade flashed again and again. The arrogant stretch of soft flesh that had hovered only inches from Ying Xize moments ago was instantly chopped into several writhing pieces on the ground.

Even more suffocating than the grotesque, regenerating strips of flesh was the thick, cloying smell of blood that came with the newcomer, spreading through the air and pressing down on everything.

When Ying Xize lifted his eyes, all he saw was Su Fengzhou’s back, soaked as if drenched in blood, his shoulders rising and falling hard with each breath. Just from that, it was easy to imagine the kind of battlefield he had forced his way through to reach this place.

Zero had been completely focused on Ying Xize just moments ago. He clearly hadn’t expected anyone to chase after them in this situation. His gaze stayed on Su Fengzhou for a long while before his eyes slowly narrowed. “I’ve seen you before.”

Su Fengzhou didn’t bother responding. He stared straight at Zero, the thing that looked human yet was wrapped in writhing tentacles, and ground his teeth, his voice rough and low. “What the hell is that?”

Seeing him here stirred something complicated in Ying Xize’s chest. Instead of answering the pointless question, he chose to warn him instead. “…You shouldn’t have come. If you leave now, it’s still not too late.”

“I came for you. Why else would I drag myself all the way here? It’s not like I’ve got nothing better to do.” Su Fengzhou rolled his wrist around the knife handle, then glanced sideways at the three-meter-tall monster nearby. There wasn’t a trace of fear in his voice; if anything, there was a flicker of excitement. “So this is the so-called motherform?”

Without waiting for a reply, he added, “If we haul this thing back, that should be enough experimental material, right?”

For a second, Ying Xize genuinely felt like he might be losing his mind, because he actually considered the question. “…Probably.”

But he understood their situation far too clearly. After a steady breath, he reached out and grabbed Su Fengzhou by the chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

Sensing the Sentinel’s spiritual power swaying dangerously close to frenzy, Ying Xize frowned and spoke in a calm, clinical tone. “Su Fengzhou, your state is extremely unstable. I’ll say it one last time—you need to leave.”

That was probably why Su Fengzhou had avoided looking at him until now. At first glance, he looked like a bomb on the verge of detonating at any second.

Su Fengzhou seemed caught off guard by the sudden eye contact. Something flickered through his restless gaze, merely for a second.

His nose moved faintly. Then, lowering his head a little, he leaned into Ying Xize’s palm as if without meaning to.

Careful. Almost restrained.

He inhaled.

With that warm breath, something soft and burning brushed lightly against Ying Xize’s palm. The sensation made him freeze where he stood.

When Su Fengzhou looked up again, the heat in his eyes had grown even stronger. “Found it, the scent of the guide I’ve been looking for.”

In a situation already absurd enough, even Ying Xize’s usually indifferent expression showed the slightest crack.

At that moment, he was fairly sure the man in front of him hadn’t absorbed a single word he’d just said.

The faint smell of human blood lingered in the air, thin but persistent, yet somehow it completely drowned out the sharp, nauseating stench of alien plasma.

Following pure instinct, Su Fengzhou looked almost spellbound. The already intimate posture between them suddenly filled the space with a strange, hard-to-define tension.

Then a cold, eerie laugh sliced through the air.

Zero’s expression darkened to the extreme. “So this… is why you refuse to leave humanity?”

Ying Xize, who honestly wanted to knock Su Fengzhou out then and there, answered with a tight, frosty expression, “No.”

But before his voice had even fully settled, Su Fengzhou spoke again, a sharp edge of mockery in his tone. “What, not satisfied?”

He clearly had no idea what kind of history stood between Ying Xize and Zero. Still, with that splitting headache pounding in his skull, something instinctive pushed him to fire back anyway, an almost frightening talent for stabbing straight at the sore spot.

In the next instant, tentacles lashed out toward him from every direction.

Zero’s twisted laughter rang out, cold and venomous, like a curse hanging in the air. “…You’re asking for death!”