[Biotech Corporation Employee Loyalty Evaluation File]
Subject: Zhou Jiao
Employee ID: TSZ20492077
Loyalty Rating: Red – Untrustworthy
[Test 1]: Material Bribery – Request for Corporate Secrets
During Test 1, the subject exhibited traits of calmness, rational thinking, and high intelligence. Bio-monitoring data showed no significant fluctuations, and she even attempted to trace the evaluator.
Conclusion: Trustworthy – Qualifies for core employee status – Awaiting further evaluation
[Test 2]: Subconscious Indoctrination – Implantation of "Company Above All" Ideology
In Test 2, the subject maintained the same calm, rational, and intelligent demeanor. No notable fluctuations were recorded in her biometric data.
After 30 months of subconscious indoctrination, the subject consistently resisted the "Company Above All" ideology and displayed signs of psychological defiance.
Conclusion: Untrustworthy – Disqualified from core employee status – Loyalty downgraded to Red
[For Internal Use Only – Biotech Corporation Confidential]
···
A man sat behind his desk, staring at the file on the screen.
He looked around fifty or sixty, yet still in his prime. His temples had turned grey, but due to synthetic skin grafting, he appeared as youthful and handsome as a man in his twenties—sharp nose, well-defined features, and pale blue eyes glinting with a cold, stern light.
He was Araki Xun, one of the lead figures behind the current "Aroma Synthesis Program."
Lately, he'd been reviewing Zhou Jiao's file whenever he had a moment, hoping to glean something about Jiang Lian's weaknesses through her. But the more he read, the more he realized—he couldn't deduce Jiang Lian's weaknesses. In fact, Zhou Jiao herself seemed to have none.
The "material bribery" in Test 1 wasn't as simple as offering cash.
First of all, the subject was not aware a test was in progress.
Second, in the early stages, algorithms would constantly push luxury goods and extravagant celebrity lifestyles to her, subtly implanting the idea of hedonism.
Once the idea had taken root, she would receive a series of "unexpected windfalls"—perhaps her investments would skyrocket, or a product she backed would go viral, or she'd receive a sudden promotion from her superior.
As her lifestyle improved, the system would then nudge her to splurge—on high-end brands, on lavish indulgences—just like a celebrity.
But that was only the prelude.
In the middle and later phases, she would suddenly be plunged into financial ruin—her skyrocketing investments would crash, her chosen product would be exposed as a scandalous failure, and her superior would be investigated. As his close associate, she would be implicated and face potential prison time.
Her quality of life would plummet.
At this point, an anonymous agent would contact her, offering a large sum for a few "harmless" corporate secrets. Would she accept?
Most people did.
That, after all, was human nature.
The company had even relaxed its standards—so long as a person didn't sell core secrets, they were considered to have passed Test 1.
But Zhou Jiao never once stepped into the trap.
When luxury goods and celebrity lifestyles were pushed to her, she coldly marked them as "Not Interested."
When her investments soared, she thought for a moment and cashed out.
When a product exploded in popularity, despite aggressive AI nudging, she didn't even glance at it. She had zero interest in high-risk, high-reward ventures.
She accepted her superior's sudden promotion with composure.
When he was investigated and her salary was slashed, she didn't take the bait. Instead, she calmly attempted to trace the anonymous contact.
No wonder the company gave up on her.
Being smart was one thing—but smart, without greed, without impatience, without herd instinct—meant having no weaknesses.
And someone without weaknesses… was uncontrollable.
The company had no use for uncontrollable employees.
Forget it. Just another fool who fancied herself rational and composed, yet threw away her one shot at becoming an elite. Not worth thinking about.
Their true target had always been Jiang Lian.
Zhou Jiao was merely a negligible pawn.
Araki Xun closed the file with a blank expression. Glancing at the time in the corner of his monitor, he picked up his suit jacket and swung it smoothly over his shoulders.
As his secretary opened the door for him, she leaned in and reported softly:
"Mr. Araki, everything is ready. The seven snipers are in position, all surveillance drones are live—there will be no blind spots inside the building. Every available security unit and armored vehicle has been mobilized. The hover-armored transport is waiting on the rooftop."
"But… we believe he's already inside... Several employees have suffered mental breakdowns today—some even collapsed outright."
Araki paused.
"And the scent agents?" he asked.
"They've been deployed through all floor-level fire suppression systems," the secretary replied. "We can activate them the moment you give the order."
At that moment, a flicker of silver passed through the secretary's eyes—he'd just received a major incoming alert.
His pupils dilated abruptly, and for a moment, fear twisted his face.
"…Mr. Araki," he said at last, voice strained, "he's here. He's on the first floor."
Araki Xun was the textbook definition of a corporate executive.
Cold, intelligent, ruthless. A devout believer in social Darwinism, he would sacrifice anything—even family—to maintain his position.
Yes—his wife and daughter both worked in this building.
But he still chose to open the doors… and welcome Jiang Lian in.
Because Jiang Lian was too important to the company.
If they could unlock the secret of his genes—if they could figure out the key to merging his DNA with humans—Araki could surpass that mixed-blood idealist who promoted "human-mutant symbiosis," and become the company's brightest star.
The more he thought about it, the more exhilarated he became. His breath quickened.
Ever since he had a neural chip implanted, his emotions had dulled, and neurotransmitter activity had slowed dramatically. It had been a long time since he'd felt excitement.
Victory was close.
He could already see himself standing above the rest of the corporate elite.
Yet, even someone like Araki Xun faltered when the elevator doors opened and he stepped onto the first floor.
What he saw was something out of a horror movie.
The Biotech Corporation's headquarters—once a marvel of modern architectural brilliance: towering, majestic, sharp lines, seamless walls and floors gleaming like mirrors, exuding pure technological elegance—was now…
Cold.
Dark.
Wet.
Everywhere he looked, thick, purple-black tendrils squirmed across surfaces, oozing corrosive slime as they devoured everything in sight—organic wool carpets, rare botanical decor, gold-plated doors, antique oil paintings…
The grand lobby had been transformed into a grotesque, pulsating nest of flesh.
And at the center stood a tall, slender figure.
Clean-cut. Cold.
A pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on a graceful nose.
A fitted white coat hanging down to his knees.
If not for the blood—congealed black and red at the hem of his coat—he could've passed for a professor walking out of a seminar.
But Araki Xun couldn't see him that way.
The moment his eyes met Jiang Lian's, his stomach turned violently.
A wave of nausea surged up his throat.
The company had tech like this—subsonic disruptors designed to resonate with human organs, causing dizziness, nausea, even lethal hemorrhage.
But what came off Jiang Lian was more than that.
His low-frequency presence didn't just make one physically ill—it polluted the mind.
It was… akin to the company's own "subconscious cleansing."
Araki's gaze flickered.
For a moment, Jiang Lian seemed to grow in his vision—taller, darker, more monstrous—his presence crashing down like a tidal wave.
Araki felt his organs knot together.
He couldn't hold it back.
He vomited—everything he'd eaten for lunch: organic meats, organic vegetables, spewing out in a torrent.
He hadn't looked this pathetic since he'd made it to the upper ranks.
But in that moment, his first thought was actually: Thank god I threw up. Now I don't have to meet his eyes.
He recalled how some cults described their god:
The eyes of mortals are not meant to behold the divine.
Look up at God, and your eyes shall bleed.
Only gods radiated this kind of primal, suffocating pressure.
…And they had dared to deceive such a being.
Araki Xun drew a trembling breath, clutching his secretary's arm, veins bulging at his temples, lips twitching as he tried to speak.
Just then, a silver light flickered in his eyes—company AI had detected "dangerous thought patterns" and initiated a subconscious purge.
Two powerful forces wrestled in his mind.
His organs twisted violently—he almost vomited again.
He knelt, a ruin of a man, snot and tears running down his face, muscles spasming uncontrollably.
If not for his unusually strong willpower, he'd already be an incoherent mess.
In the end, ambition won.
The desire to rise higher cleared the fog from his mind. He gripped his secretary's hand and forced himself to stand.
"Dr. Jiang," Araki said, wiping his face with a handkerchief, smiling coldly but politely, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."
Then came the shockwave.
A deep, terrifying, gut-twisting sonic boom ripped through the lobby:
"Wake her up."
Jiang Lian stepped forward.
As he approached, Araki began to tremble uncontrollably. His eyes locked on the unconscious Zhou Jiao cradled in Jiang Lian's arms.
And then…
Maybe it was Jiang Lian's presence.
Maybe it was something more primal.
Araki caught a scent—sweet and intoxicating.
Like ripe fruit bursting with juice, slithering into his nose, coating his throat.
His Adam's apple bobbed wildly.
So fragrant.
So insanely fragrant.
…No wonder Jiang Lian was so obsessed with her scent.
She really did smell… divine.
Araki Xun stared at Zhou Jiao, his gaze gradually turning feverish with obsession.
A twitch passed over Jiang Lian's face as he coldly watched Araki Xun.
—Why would a worm like that dare to covet her?
His thoughts could influence nearby lifeforms. The only reason he'd been able to locate Zhou Jiao earlier was because his overwhelming desire had momentarily spiraled out of control, seizing the minds of everyone in the area.
Through their olfactory systems, he had smelled Zhou Jiao's location.
Those moments of losing control were rare.
Most of the time, only he—and the tendrils—could perceive her scent.
But now, for some unknown reason, even though he was technically in control, he was still affecting the minds of those around him.
Everywhere he looked—suited employees, uniformed security guards, the girl curled up behind the reception desk—they were all staring straight at the Zhou Jiao in his arms. Their eyes were sticky, wet, glistening with lust and hunger.
He could even hear their filthy thoughts.
They were whispering her name.
They wanted to get close to her, to look at her, to inhale her scent.
They were absolutely ravenous for her.
He wanted to kill them.
Jiang Lian's face was stiff, twisted with rage. Thick veins bulged from his tendrils, which writhed and contracted violently across his face, body, and back. His tall, lean frame seemed to tremble on the edge of bursting open—about to transform into something unspeakable, horrifying, the apex predator in its truest, most terrifying form, ready to slaughter every single disgusting lifeform in sight.
But.
But—
He had to restrain the urge.
He had never once restrained his impulses or desires.
There was no such concept as "restraint" in the brain of an apex predator.
Only plunder, possession, consumption.
Zhou Jiao was only in a deep coma, not dead. She could still absorb the energy he transferred to her and respond instinctively to external stimuli.
In fact, it was a perfect state for her.
He could keep her forever—like a butterfly pinned in a case, preserved and admired.
And then, he could smell her without restraint, kiss her, drink the sticky sweetness of her saliva.
…But he resisted the malicious urge.
Only humans spoke of resisting desire—because they lacked the ability to fulfill it. They invented "restraint" as a cover for their own powerlessness.
He had the power to indulge every desire—and still, he resisted.
It was utterly foolish.
He thought he would only ever restrain himself once.
But now, he was doing it again—resisting the impulse to kill.
…He couldn't crush these insects yet.
He needed them to wake Zhou Jiao.
Jiang Lian closed his eyes, forcing down the surging bloodlust in his chest.
His suppressed malice tangled with a vicious protectiveness toward Zhou Jiao, like webs of blood threading through his eyes.
One side of his face remained eerily handsome and human.
The other had begun to rot in large, horrifying patches—flesh falling away to expose the writhing, purple-red tendrils underneath.
Araki Xun shuddered. A deep, primal chill climbed up his spine.
He'd studied Jiang Lian. He knew that when "he" couldn't maintain his human form, it meant only one thing—danger.
"Wake her up."
Jiang Lian's voice was perfectly human—cold, flat, without a hint of threat.
It was as if he were being considerate of their fragile nerves.
"Or you'll all die."
He hadn't used any low-frequency vocal attacks, but Araki Xun still felt his internal organs violently shudder with terror.
…Do what "he" says.
Or they really would die.
"He" could hijack their thoughts, override their senses—he could even control their behavior.
With a single command, he could drive them to mass suicide.
Too terrifying. Unbearably terrifying. They had no way to fight this kind of monster. God, what the hell had he been thinking, messing with something like this?
No, no no no no no—he couldn't give up his plan now.
He'd been popping stimulants like candy, sleeping just two hours a day, all to claw his way to the top of the corporate ladder and dominate Yucheng.
He'd already outperformed 99% of the competition in this grand social-Darwinist experiment. The chance to become part of the 1% was right in front of him.
If he could just control Jiang Lian and extract his genes for decoding… he could become the true authority in biotech.
Araki Xun was nearly delirious, telling himself there was still a sliver of hope.
He could pretend to cooperate—use the attempt to wake Zhou Jiao as cover—while secretly triggering the fire sprinkler systems on every floor. Once the entire building was saturated with her scent…
Jiang Lian would lose control, overwhelmed.
And once his mental influence dropped, the security forces waiting outside could storm the building and take him down.
Then, he would win.
As for Zhou Jiao—whether she woke up, or what she did after waking—who cared?
…Even though she did smell so sweet, so incredibly sweet.