Chi Yao was startled and looked in the direction he indicated.

This mermaid’s hands were hung on mechanical arms, her left arm cut down to just bones. Her head hung down, face pale as death, both eyes gouged out, chest opened, exposing tissue of some organ that couldn’t be clearly identified.

In this condition, still alive?

“Looks like she was killed not long ago.” Jing Xi frowned.

Chi Yao: “Just now you were studying why her abdomen was moving?”

Jing Xi glanced at him: “What else?”

Chi Yao’s heart suddenly felt at ease.

“Let me borrow this.” He casually pulled out the military knife from Jing Xi’s leg pouch, waving for him to move aside a bit.

Jing Xi didn’t understand why. Just as he stepped back, he saw him slash open the mermaid’s abdomen with one cut.

A pile of intestines spilled onto the ground with a crash.

Although wearing a purification mask, Chi Yao still couldn’t help but raise his hand to cover his nose, using the knife’s back to pierce into the wound.

Stirring slowly for a moment, he suddenly felt movement transmitted through the military knife and quickly turned it horizontally and pulled it out.

Jing Xi was stunned.

Seeing the intestines all over the ground hadn’t made him feel this uncomfortable.

A fish-bladder-like thing hung outside the body, wrapped inside was a golden small fish, only palm-sized, occasionally moving a bit—it also looked like it was almost done for.

“Is this a beast-transformed person?” Jing Xi asked in a low voice.

Chi Yao returned the military knife to him. Relying on wearing gloves, he removed that “fish bladder” and placed it in his palm to examine.

“You want to hear the truth?”

Jing Xi walked to his side, watching him tear off that thin membrane, his voice hoarse.

“The beast-transformed mother affects fetal development?”

Chi Yao: “Mm.”

He looked left and right, walked to a nearby operating table, filled a small sink for washing hands with water, and placed the small fish in it.

The small fish floated limply in the water, no different from a dead fish.

Jing Xi watched, his hand at his side clenching tight.

If this female beta had beast-transformed from a human, the child in her belly should originally have also been human, but now it was completely indistinguishable from a fish.

“Can it still be saved?” He unconsciously softened his voice.

“Don’t know.” Chi Yao splashed water on it. “Hey, my patience is limited. If you can’t swim on your own before I leave, then I won’t take you.”

The small fish floated with its head up for a long time but had no reaction at all.

Chi Yao shook off the water in his hand, saying casually: “Forget it, let’s go.”

After speaking, he walked outside.

Jing Xi frowned and tried reaching out to touch the small fish.

“You’ve persisted until now, why not persist a bit longer?”

Just as he finished speaking, the golden small fish suddenly jolted.

Jing Xi’s eyes widened slightly. He immediately turned to call out to Chi Yao.

“It moved!”

Chi Yao had walked to the doorway. His steps paused, and he turned back nonchalantly.

The small fish in the sink opened its pitch-black eyes and quickly swam two laps, as if it had exhausted its stored backup energy. It lay still again, tail twitching, just wouldn’t move.

Chi Yao randomly found the smallest-sized jar from under the operating table and put the fish in it.

Jing Xi: “…Isn’t that for specimens?”

“Conditions are tough. Can’t exactly hold it in my hands, right?” Chi Yao tapped the jar, pointing at the mermaid over there and saying to the small fish, “That’s your mother. You won’t have a chance to see her again. Look carefully.”

The small fish’s tail flicked once—who knew if it understood.

Chi Yao didn’t give it much time and directly stuffed it into the tool bag at his lower back.

“Let’s go.”

Jing Xi looked at his back, full of questions he wanted to ask.

He suddenly remembered Chi Yao’s previous statement that “not every child can compare to Iron Bear.”

So was this child the same as Iron Bear?

The second room was as they expected—all omegas.

Apart from the different secondary gender, the situation here wasn’t much different from the first room, except the degree of beastification seemed to be greater than those betas.

Chi Yao had Xiao Hong and Xiao Lan record it and went with Jing Xi to the third room.

Here, everyone was alpha.

If one didn’t know the pattern of these three rooms, at first glance one would mistakenly think this was a beast slaughterhouse.

Dogs, foxes, pigs, deer…all kinds of animals were present.

Only upon careful observation could one discover that they had extremely few parts on their bodies that hadn’t been beast-transformed.

Why? Was the degree of alpha beastification generally higher than the other two genders, or was it just coincidence?

Jing Xi was lost in thought.

Among the beast-transformed people they’d encountered before, it seemed the vast majority were alphas.

Jing Xi’s mood was heavy, but Chi Yao was being selective and choosy, like wandering through a farmers’ market.

“Alpha bodies aren’t that interesting to look at—hard lines, love to grow muscle. If not careful, they’re covered in tumor-like muscles. Look at this muscle pig, tsk tsk tsk—”

Jing Xi: “…”

Chi Yao found a metal rod from somewhere, walking while turning over these corpses to look.

Seeing Jing Xi follow over, Chi Yao smiled: “Although you’re an alpha, your body is still beautiful.”

Comparing him to corpses?

Jing Xi said with a wooden face: “I thank you.”

Chi Yao: “You’re welcome.”

Jing Xi: “…”

On the other end, Fu Jiubing rushed to the backup office near the research institute.

He didn’t dare go in but called several backup programmers to check the AI patrol logs overnight.

Data on the virtual screen jumped crazily, the entire screen filled with red alerts.

Fu Jiubing paced back and forth with his hands behind his back: “Still haven’t found out?! Are people still inside or not? Give me an answer!”

The programmer team leader said respectfully: “There is indeed evidence of external enemy invasion. We’re still investigating the details.”

Fu Jiubing’s nerves had been stretched to the limit.

“Then hurry up and investigate!”

Three minutes later, the programmers reported one by one what they’d found—

“There are signs of external enemy invasion on the first floor. We’ve checked the AI surveillance, but haven’t found any useful information yet.”

“The underground first level was, was destroyed! A rough estimate shows over 90% of the area was affected.”

“Signs of external enemy invasion found at the entrance to underground level two, but so far no image data of the external enemy has been found.”

Fu Jiubing listened as his blood pressure soared.

“It’s obvious there’s an external enemy invasion?! Do I need you to tell me that?! I want to know who went in! Are they still inside or not?!”

Sweat from the programmer team leader’s temples dripped down to his chin.

“We’re pulling up more information.”

Footsteps came from behind. Fu Jiubing paused and turned to look—it was a middle-aged beta in a white lab coat.

“Qiu Tianlin, you finally came!”

He walked over, pulling the person over: “These idiots have been checking for so long and still can’t find anyone. You do it!”

Qiu Tianlin adjusted his frameless glasses: “I studied medicine. I’m not professional with programs.”

“Bullshit!” Fu Jiubing kicked one of the programmers and pressed him into a seat. “You’re still better than them!”

Qiu Tianlin looked troubled: “Manager Fu, this kind of thing should still be left to professionals—”

Fu Jiubing’s expression darkened: “Do you think that because you were sent down by the higher-ups, I can’t order you around? Don’t think too highly of yourself!”

Qiu Tianlin’s expression didn’t change: “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then you—”

“What happened?!” A young beta rushed in hurriedly. Seeing Qiu Tianlin and Fu Jiubing, he said in panic, “Manager Fu and Professor are both here? Is there a problem with the experimental data?”

Glancing with peripheral vision at the furious Fu Jiubing, Qiu Tianlin beckoned to him.

“Sichen, you came at just the right time. You understand programming things better.”

Underground level two, after Chi Yao and Jing Xi toured all the rooms, they prepared to leave.

Suddenly, they heard Xiao Hong’s alarm in their ears.

[Message fed back from big brother—the patrol routes of AI patrols have changed greatly. An estimated 50 AIs are coming to level two.]

With the brain chip in Chi Yao’s possession, Jing Xi couldn’t hear any information.

Chi Yao briefly repeated: “Those idiots finally reacted.”

Jing Xi recalled the structure of level two: “There are only two exits total. We’re now only ten meters from the entrance we came from. Going to the other exit requires crossing the entire level two. What do you plan to do?”

Chi Yao looked at him, somewhat surprised: “You’ll listen to me?”

Jing Xi: “Is it strange to listen to you?”

Chi Yao patted his head: “So well-behaved.”

Jing Xi was stunned. Before he could recover from this sudden intimate gesture, he heard him complain: “Patting my own head feels really uncomfortable.”

Jing Xi: “…”

In the brief time the two were choosing, patrol AIs had already blocked both exits.

Chi Yao spread his hands: “Now we don’t need to choose. That’s actually convenient.”

They stood before the maze they’d entered from, preparing to ambush here.

Chi Yao reached behind his lower back and pulled something out, tossing it to Jing Xi.

“Keep it with you for now.”

Jing Xi instinctively caught it—it was that small fish.

Did he think he would definitely protect this little thing?

In just a moment, the low-frequency vibration emitted by machinery came from the passage.

The two blocked both sides of the exit and exchanged glances.

The first AI patrol only poked out its dumb big head before being smashed to scrap by Chi Yao with one stick.

Chi Yao winked at Jing Xi and made a gesture.

[1:0]

Jing Xi, who was just preparing to act: “…”

The second AI came out. Chi Yao had just raised his stick when a gunshot rang out and the AI fell to the ground.

Jing Xi looked over, his gaze challenging.

[Tied 1-1]

Chi Yao: “…”

In the next few minutes, gunshots rang out continuously.

The passage exit was piled with scrapped AI patrols.

Temporary office—

Fu Jiubing watched the blue dots on the virtual screen rapidly extinguish and said angrily: “They’re on underground level two! Pull up the surveillance!”

Liu Sichen’s hands moved rapidly, saying calmly: “The surveillance for the entire research institute has malfunctioned. We still can’t determine if it’s caused by external factors or an AI management system error.”

“System error?” Fu Jiubing sneered.

Liu Sichen pulled up three windows, pointing at the data above to explain: “E04, E09, and E11 all have varying degrees of system disorder. Investigation will take some time.”

Fu Jiubing: “Can a system problem blow up an entire floor?!”

Liu Sichen: “Losing so many specimens is indeed heartbreaking, but if it’s caused by a system error, it’s actually not that serious.”

Fu Jiubing was stunned, his eyes brightening accordingly.

“Then hurry up and investigate!”

Liu Sichen really couldn’t help but yawn: “Already investigating. You and the professor should drink some tea first. My ears are about to go deaf from listening—”

The voice grew quieter and quieter.

Fu Jiubing: “You—!”

Qiu Tianlin glanced at Fu Jiubing’s constipated expression and leisurely sipped his tea.

Underground level two.

Chi Yao finished off the last AI patrol and raised his eyebrows at Jing Xi.

[15:14]

Jing Xi loaded a new magazine, smoothly pulled the slide, and motioned for him to go.

Although both exits were blocked, the number of AI patrols was limited after all.

The two returned along the route in their memory.

Jing Xi’s foot hadn’t even stepped out when he was pulled back by Chi Yao.

The sound of AI patrols moving came from outside the passage.

The two hid inside, only able to communicate with their eyes.

Fortunately, special metal walls were used here. As long as they didn’t speak, they could avoid the AI patrols’ search.

Jing Xi pointed at the clothes on his body.

[Use that move?]

Chi Yao made an OK gesture.

A moment later, two small beans flew out hugging the wall corner.

The AIs over there gestured with their mechanical hands and started giving random directions.

The AIs were quickly dispersed.

Chi Yao smiled: “Pretty smart.”

Jing Xi: “He himself isn’t stupid either.”

Chi Yao: “Who’s he?”

Jing Xi: “Guess?”

Just as they were about to leave, clicking sounds came from behind—like the sound of mechanical failure.

Chi Yao frowned slightly: “Which one isn’t completely dead?”

Jing Xi listened to the movement outside, saying coldly: “Another batch came.”

Suddenly they were ambushed from front and back.

Without Xiao Hong and Xiao Lan on them, they had no protective equipment.

If they dealt with the one behind them, the noise would inevitably attract that group outside.

Jing Xi instinctively reached for the jar at his lower back.

No matter what, since they’d already taken it, they had to safely bring it out.

The clicking sounds grew closer and closer.

Chi Yao was about to fight head-on when something suddenly flashed before his eyes.

At the same time the malfunctioning AI appeared, a small black bean attached to it.

The AI patrol suddenly twitched as if convulsing. Its body twisted a few times and slowly passed by them. A line of red text appeared on the screen on its head.

“Heh, still can’t do without your grandpa.”

Chi Yao/Jing Xi: “…”

It limped outside. The AI patrols outside immediately sensed it.

Xiao Hei casually pointed at the sky and sent a signal command.

[The enemy flew up.]

Other AI patrols: [Received.]

With three little robots causing chaos, the two smoothly climbed the wall and left the research institute.

The temperature difference at night was large. This place was also near the mountain foot, and the northwest wind howled.

The two ran all the way back to the mountainside without a sound.

Opening the hover car door, they climbed in feeling their way in the dark.

Just as the car door closed, Jing Xi saw a hand extended to him.

“Injured?” Jing Xi asked.

Chi Yao yanked off the night vision glasses on his face: “The jar.”

Jing Xi was startled, took out the jar from his lower back, and handed it between them.

By starlight, Chi Yao could see the small fish in the water.

Blowing bubbles, flicking its tail fin—it didn’t look very lively, as if it was carsick.

He took it and shook it gently: “Pretty tough life. Your mom didn’t give you a name? Then from now on, you’ll be called um—Lazy Fish?”

The small fish waved its fish fin, expressing dissatisfaction with this name.

Chi Yao chuckled softly: “On my turf, you can only listen to me.”

Jing Xi’s eyes flickered. His breathing was still somewhat unstable, and he could even hear his own heartbeat.

But he didn’t know if it was because of escaping with their lives or the smile of the person before him.

He suddenly understood.

Perhaps Chi Yao having him carry the jar wasn’t just because he believed he’d protect it well, but also because he knew his own body had stronger protective capabilities.

The well-behaved little cub from back then had grown into a domineering pirate boss.

But some essential things seemed not to have changed.

“Yaoyao—”

Chi Yao had just finished teasing the fish and was about to start the car to flee when, hearing the voice, he instinctively looked over.

The next moment, he was hugged tightly.

Chi Yao’s heart skipped a beat, but he quickly realized Jing Xi was calling “yaoyao.”

He couldn’t distinguish whether this was calling him or calling another person.

“Taking advantage of the dark and windy night to ambush me?” Chi Yao said, feigning ease. “You’re being a hooligan, Major General?”

Jing Xi buried his head in his shoulder and took several deep breaths before calming the surging emotions.

“Money isn’t easy to earn these days.”

Chi Yao: “…”

Suddenly hugging him over just to say this?

Jing Xi: “Rarely do you meet someone like me who’s stupid with lots of money.”

Chi Yao: “So?”

Jing Xi looked up at him: “Don’t you plan to expand your business scope?”

Chi Yao: “…”