A8 suffered heavy casualties yesterday—only half the team could deploy today—so they had to operate jointly with the smaller A3 team.

Seeing Old Lin go over beaming and return grumbling, the teammates asked what happened.

Old Lin slung on his pack, grabbed his gear, and muttered as he strode ahead, “I’m a perfectly good team leader—why would I be fawning over rookies for no reason? Ha. Bootlick, bootlick—lick long enough and you’re just full of dog food.”

Teammates: “…”

Did he not sober up yet? It even rhymed.

Jin Dazhao had already granted Rong Shi and Song Yu freedom to choose where to go next, but since they discovered suspected sabotage on the M80 artificial atmosphere unit yesterday, they decided to stick with the pioneering teams for a few days to see what other clues might turn up.

After A8 and A3 combined, they had a little over forty people and were assigned to zone L100 today.

L100 used to be the largest and most prosperous urban district in the West.

Aboard the small ship, Rong Shi watched the projected ground feed.

A forest of high-rises: some collapsed, some damaged; mutant vines crawled up the exterior walls like veins.

Carnivorous blossoms, blooming on rooftops, yawned with thorn-studded maws; petals drooped in all directions, draping half a floor.

Wide roads had been split by unfamiliar mutant plants; vehicles were piled and crushed together, paintless with rust, reduced to bare shells.

The aerial transit rails were decayed and ruined; a station held a floating bus whose front half hung off the track while the rear had merged into the trunk of a banyan.

“Pretty good place to shoot a horror movie—no need to pay for sets.”

Hearing Song Yu’s quip, Rong Shi followed up: “And no need for VFX—rats can bite a person down to two legs in one gulp.”

At the word “rats,” Song Yu’s scalp prickled.

Rong Shi deliberately went on, “The most common mutants in urban districts are rats, mosquitoes, and flies. Originally not very aggressive species, but to survive, they mutate enormous.”

Just picturing it made Song Yu’s brows knit and his face cloud.

That conflicted little look was unbearably cute.

Rong Shi slung an arm around his shoulders, pulled him close, and ruffled his hair. “With me here, I won’t let a rat carry you off.”

Song Yu: “…”

The teammates a few seats over: “…”

No wonder Old Lin wants to swat them.

The artificial atmosphere unit in L100 was located at the former Security Bureau’s central hub—meant to ensure its safety, but now a hassle to inspect.

“The bureau’s building is a maze with a canopy shield overhead; ships can’t get in.”

As they neared the target, Old Lin and the team discussed their plan.

A satellite map hovered in the window. Old Lin pointed to the lower-left of the maze. “There are four entrances in total. Three have collapsed. The only one left is here. The route inside is clear—but it’s also dangerous.”

Rats—even mutated ones—prefer dark corners.

Mecha and vanguard units can only clear what’s moving outside.

A8 and A3 were full of veterans, rich in combat experience. Old Lin and A3’s leader, Yang Peng, quickly hammered out a plan.

“Rong Shi, you two stick near the rear,” Old Lin craned his neck to look over. “Stay tight with the main body. No splitting off.”

Rong Shi nodded. “We’ll cooperate as much as possible.”

Yang Peng didn’t even glance their way and said blandly, “This one’s tough. Don’t drag us down.”

Someone in A3 immediately egged on: “They’re amazing, remember? How could they drag us down?”

“Tamed Old Lin in a day—how is that not badass?”

“Exactly—might be we’ll need to take orders from them, haha.”

“Be sure to save me later, alright? Thanks in advance, haha.”

The words were polite praise, but anyone not stupid could hear the sarcasm.

Song Yu sucked on his bunny candy and drawled with a smile, “No need to thank us. If you hadn’t ditched us yesterday, we wouldn’t have had a chance to rack up merit. Courtesy demands reciprocity. It’s only right.”

The air went instantly quiet.

Song Yu, unbothered, asked Rong Shi, “I heard it’s 10x merit?”

Rong Shi: “Mm.”

A3: “…”

Damn. More than their entire mission combined.

A8: “…”

Begging to be humiliated.

The ship set down on the avenue outside the bureau. Everyone changed into combat gear and moved according to plan.

Rong Shi and Song Yu followed them in through the entrance.

The outer buildings around the bureau were heavily damaged; vine roots snaked across interior walls.

Rong Shi scanned the area. A liana suddenly shot from a crack in the wall, striking for Song Yu’s neck.

He pulled the combat knife from the sheath at his thigh and chopped down hard.

“Careful. Don’t get snagged away,” he said, drawing Song Yu closer.

Song Yu was calm at that level of danger; he slid the half-drawn knife back into place and smiled. “Shouldn’t we be more careful of bunnies? They’re the ones who snare people.”

Rong Shi’s lips curved. He was about to reply when a glint pricked his eye—he instinctively yanked Song Yu aside.

Whoosh! Bang!

A bullet punched through the window and into the wall opposite.

01: [Thermal weapons detected in Building C. Estimated headcount: 10.]

00: [Thermal weapons detected in Building A. Estimated headcount: 15.]

Their hands were clasped; their armor warnings cross-linked in their minds.

“Shit!”

After being ambushed and sniped again and again, Song Yu’s limited patience snapped.

His right hand reached for the small of his back. 00 understood at once and switched from standby to firearm mode.

[Standard mode engaged.]

A suite of virtual windows popped into Song Yu’s view.

He raised his head; the sight locked onto the rooftop across the way.

He slipped from Rong Shi’s grasp, racked the slide, and fired through the window.

[Target hit. Watch your 4 o’clock.]

Almost at once, a faint whistle cut the air from their rear-left.

Rong Shi’s eyes flashed. He dragged Song Yu down and barked to the others, “Down!”

Those up front were a beat slow to the sudden change behind. Only when they heard Rong Shi did they turn.

The wall four or five meters away blew apart, pelting rubble.

Old Lin flattened himself, arms over his head, and shouted hoarsely, “Rong Shi?! You two okay?!”

“Attack?!”

“Shit! Rebels?!”

After the blast, the team scrambled up, dove behind the wall, and sprayed return fire out the window, dust coating them head to toe.

The dust was too heavy for Old Lin to see across. He loped toward the commotion, hauling a wounded teammate by the collar as he went.

“Rong Shi! Song Yu!”

“Don’t come over.”

Rong Shi’s voice floated back; Old Lin exhaled.

“You’re alright?!”

When they sensed the killers, Rong Shi and Song Yu had deliberately backed toward a sparser area.

These people were here for them; they couldn’t drag others down.

Rong Shi pulled Song Yu up, shook the grit from his hair, and called, “You go on ahead—”

Before he finished, another blast sounded overhead and the floor shuddered.

“So damn annoying,” Song Yu said coldly, dropping two with two shots. He called down the corridor, “You head out first. We’ll link up.”

“What the hell are you saying?!” Old Lin roared back. “Leave you here to die?!”

Time was too tight for a proper explanation.

[B Wing shows thermal weapons. Estimated 18.]

[D Wing too. Estimated 13. They have counter-detection gear. Be careful.]

“Big budget,” Song Yu said, killing faster with each shot, almost all headshots. He even had breath to tease: “Brother—wanna bet?”

Rong Shi handled a sniper from another angle, voice cool. “If you lose, you wear cat ears and sing.”

“Deal,” Song Yu said crisply. “If you lose?”

Rong Shi ducked behind a wall and said mildly, “Then I’m punished to listen to you sing.”

Song Yu: “…Damn.”

A few dozen people scattered under the hail of bullets.

Rong Shi felt the floor sink underfoot. He snapped alert, grabbed Song Yu’s wrist, and ran.

“Damn—caving in!”

“Run!”

The corridor devolved into chaos. Already unstable, it split down the middle and collapsed.

A last runner almost fell; the teammate ahead caught him under the arms and hauled him up.

Old Lin and Yang Peng called a headcount—only Rong Shi and Song Yu were missing.

The two leaders argued over whether to go back for the interns.

Yang Peng: “Given the situation, you’re going to get sentimental now?! Stay if you want. Call a rescue team—maybe they’ll find the bodies. My team’s proceeding.”

Old Lin: “You—!”

Yang Peng led A3 toward the center of the maze at speed.

“Old Lin, what about us?”

“I saw Rong Shi go the other way—he should be fine.”

“Right, they’re strong—they can handle—”

They trailed off.

No matter how strong—still cadets. Could they just leave them?

Old Lin clenched his teeth and waved. “Move! We find them first!”

Rong Shi pulled Song Yu into another corridor.

Bullets stitched the tiles at their heels.

Rong Shi ran and fired out the windows.

[Target hit.]

[Target hit.]

[Target hit.]

…

01’s prompts chimed nonstop. Song Yu was more shocked with each one.

The opposite building was at least 500 meters. With both sides moving, Rong Shi still hit 100%.

The damn rabbit was insanely cool.

They crossed the corridor and headed for the emergency stairwell.

Inside, it was fireproof and bullet-resistant—safer than outside.

But the instant they stepped in, footsteps pounded above.

They were only a meter apart—both flashed to the sides. A cluster of holes chewed where they’d been.

Song Yu twisted, brought up his gun, and shot the head popping over the landing.

Bang!

The killer rocked; blood sprayed the wall behind.

Rong Shi kicked the weapon from the one nearest him, twirled his combat knife into a reverse grip, and swept—opening the killer’s carotid.

Using that body to block a volley, he seized a second killer by the lapel and slammed him into the wall.

Crack!

The man’s neck snapped; dead.

Rong Shi tossed the two bodies, then sent the bloody knife spinning—burying it in the third’s throat.

From contact to conclusion, it was barely a minute.

Watching Rong Shi’s movements from the corner of his eye, that strange feeling in Song Yu’s chest grew stronger.

Even for someone as frequently targeted as he was, his first instant under attack was always thought—decision. Rong Shi’s responses were so fast it was as if he didn’t need to think.

His combat memory seemed etched into every cell and muscle.

At the moment he saw an enemy, his body made a full tactical assessment by instinct.

If he wasn’t a natural-born fighter, then his hands must be stained with blood.

Faint noises drifted from upstairs; footsteps were growing clearer.

Rong Shi cracked open the emergency door and pulled Song Yu behind the wall.

He bracketed Song Yu between himself and the concrete, tilting his head to listen.

The exposed killers now numbered over fifty.

Without prior knowledge of their route, no one could have organized an ambush of this scale.

There was a mole in the Second Legion.

Zheng Long?

No. Probably not.

Rong Shi’s mind raced—and a sudden warmth brushed his lips.

His eyes flashed; he looked down at Song Yu.

Song Yu’s mouth curved; soundlessly, he formed a few words.

The steps outside drew closer—but Rong Shi couldn’t help it. He leaned in and kissed him hard.

—Admit it. We’ve always been each other’s only choice.

__

Author’s Note:
Bunny Rong: With me here, I won’t let a rat carry you off.
Cat Song: You’re the best, big brother!
One minute later, Cat Song was carried into the bunny’s burrow—