Along the way, Qiu Yu received more than a dozen calls—most from her parents.
They ordered her to stop immediately and wait for a hovercar to pick her up.
At first, she simply hung up. But when she realized drones were tracking her communication signals, she switched her phone to flight mode, hit the autopilot button, grabbed her submachine gun, and aimed at the drones through the window—
Bang bang bang bang bang!
Muzzle flashes burst like fireworks, bullets flew everywhere, and in seconds, the magazine was empty.
The drone couldn't withstand such intense firepower and plummeted to the ground in a blaze of sparks.
But drones were hardly the only threat she faced.
As she entered the BioTech Corporation's perimeter, mutated creatures roamed the area like the walking dead.
Most company employees had undergone military training. Agile and efficient, they could handle these mutants with ease.
High-ranking staff—people like her—even had full arsenals in their offices. If they wanted to fight their way out, they could.
But the corporate tower wasn't only surrounded by employees.
There were also civilians: janitors, tourists, interns who hadn't yet received combat training…
They all had one thing in common—utter helplessness in the face of the mutants.
Without her noticing, a fine drizzle began falling from the sky.
Qiu Yu glanced at the supercar's dashboard. The rain's pH levels hadn't surpassed safety limits.
But soon, she discovered something far more terrifying than acid rain:
The mutants were screeching in the rain—ear-splitting cries—as if the rainfall was triggering some kind of mutation or power surge.
It was a scene straight out of hell.
If it had just been an invasion of wild beasts, it wouldn't have been this nauseating.
No matter how ugly animals were, their appearance still fell within humanity's realm of acceptance.
These mutants looked like creatures from a horror film.
—Slippery, silicate-like skin. Elongated, venomous vertical pupils. Razor-sharp claws. Even in the rain, they left behind slime-like trails as they moved.
What worried her most was the idea that their "silicate skin" might grant them formidable external durability.
There's a deep-sea sponge called the Venus' Flower Basket, which survives in the abyss thanks to a skeleton made of silica.
If these mutants shared that trait, their exteriors could be nearly bulletproof.
Even worse, their silicate bodies might make them invisible to infrared radar—
—a death sentence for any combat personnel operating in the dark.
And all this had started… simply because the company wanted to win a PR war.
They wanted to destroy Chen Ce Bai's reputation in public opinion.
If he didn't have such a strong mind, or hadn't gained access to another dimension, he would've been socially executed by now.
If he hadn't been so obsessively fixated on her, even if he'd survived physically, he would've suffocated under the guilt of so many lost lives.
Even though he wasn't the one responsible for all this.
Qiu Yu felt that overwhelming wave of exhaustion again.
She grabbed her submachine gun, slung her supply pack over her shoulder, and stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her.
Mutant blood—blue as cobalt—mingled with human red, forming sickly iridescent puddles that flowed into the storm drains.
The streets around the BioTech headquarters still played rolling holographic ads.
Evening had fallen, and neon signs began blinking to life one by one:
Advertisements for synthetic meat. Protein supplements. Gun stores…
Chinese, Japanese, English, Spanish.
Red, blue, yellow, purple, violet-blue.
This was a city of everything. And so, it had neon lights of everything too.
Gunfire. Blood. Rain-mist. Neon glow. Holographic displays—
Together, they painted a nightmarish yet dazzling picture of the apocalypse.
The city devoured the neon, and the neon devoured the city in return.
Gunshots rang out. Blood sprayed. Screams tore through the air.
But those screams, rising into the sky, only became the background noise for a holographic ad—
The image flickered to a gun commercial. A muscular man fired a submachine gun.
Rat-a-tat-tat! Blood splattered. Shell casings hit the floor in a metallic shower.
As the screams below faded, the commercial ended, and a slick, hollow voiceover boomed across the plaza:
"Protect yourself—choose BioTech."
"BioTech: Targeted solutions for your enemies."
Qiu Yu gagged. Her stomach turned. She leaned over and dry-heaved.
She had never hated this city more.
All she wanted was to leave—
—to escape to a world that was quiet, warm, free of gunfire and power struggles.
The world Chen Ce Bai had built for her.
Tears—triggered by something deeply biological—welled up in her eyes.
She missed Chen Ce Bai more than ever before.
Just then, she heard a squelching sound behind her—
like some amphibious creature dragging itself across the wet pavement.
Goosebumps prickled her arms. In the corner of her eye, she spotted two semi-transparent, bony claws—
A mutant was closing in fast, sprinting on all fours, about to launch a vicious, deadly strike.
Qiu Yu clenched her jaw, about to roll into a crouch, grab her gun, and shoot—
But in the same instant, a figure lunged at her like lightning.
One arm wrapped around her waist.
The other drew an electromagnetic gun with surgical precision, and—Bang! Bang! Bang!—
The mutant was instantly disabled.
Caught off guard, Qiu Yu was tackled hard, trying to break free, but the person's arm was like iron locked around her waist.
Above her, a voice—cool and slightly hoarse—spoke:
"It's not safe here. I'm getting you out."
It was a woman.
Qiu Yu blinked and looked up.
She was very young—barely in her twenties—with striking, delicate features like a pristine white camellia.
But her expression was flat, emotionless. Her eyes held no warmth.
It was clear she hadn't saved Qiu Yu out of kindness—just because it was her job.
Qiu Yu frowned. "You're BioTech security?"
The woman raised an eyebrow. "No. I'm a doctor. Just here for the rescue operation."
Before Qiu Yu could respond, she swiftly lifted her gun again and took aim at another mutant.
"Are you coming or not? If not, I'm off to save someone else. I need ten rescues before I can clock out."
Qiu Yu: "…"
She was right. The woman had saved her purely for the mission.
Qiu Yu shook her head. "Go ahead. I have someone I need to find in there."
The woman glanced at her with mild surprise. "Alright."
She paused for a moment, then grabbed Qiu Yu's wrist and transferred a contact card into her chip:
"I'm Zhou Jiao. Employee ID TSZ20492077. If you change your mind and don't want to look anymore, reach out. If I'm still assigned to this zone, I'll come back for you."
Even with flight mode enabled, chips could still receive files from close proximity.
Qiu Yu didn't refuse. Zhou Jiao might be the last person she ever met in this world. She'd keep the card as a memento.
She said, "Okay."
Zhou Jiao gave her an OK sign, then casually raised her other arm, fired a few more shots to dispatch another mutant, and vanished into the rain.
Qiu Yu watched her go, then pulled herself together and headed toward the corporate tower.
Not everyone was like Zhou Jiao.
Soon, she ran into two more so-called rescue personnel—
One tried to steal her supplies. The other attempted to hack her credit chip for money.
She dealt with both of them using swift karate chops and kept going.
The truth was, she'd always known this world was insane—corrupt, ruthless, inhuman.
It wasn't that she was some pure, gentle soul untouched by it.
She had desires. She had ambition. She had vanity.
She wanted recognition, wanted to break free of her parents' control and make something of herself.
She wanted the person she loved to love her back.
Her compatibility rating with nearly everyone was over 80%—likely because she was always adapting, always performing.
She'd believed that if enough people liked her, she'd feel safe, feel like she belonged.
That the sense of alienation would disappear.
But even now, she hadn't found a true sense of belonging.
She was too naïve, too greedy—
Unwilling to accept the world as it was, but also lacking the courage to change it.
Until she met Chen Ce Bai, and saw that scorched, obsidian fire in his eyes.
From then on, everything changed.
The two of them lived in a pocket of still time—a place that, to others, might seem like a terrifying trap.
But to her…
…it felt like she had finally found that unstained world she'd always longed for.
She wasn't exactly clear-headed, nor was she gentle. And Chen Ce Bai—he was never a gentle person either. No matter the time or place, the way he looked at her always carried a kind of feral hunger, a desire to consume her whole. His touch always left behind fevered bruises.
And yet, this man was the one who created an eternal space for her—just so he could stay there with her forever.
Why hadn't she realized it sooner? That world was so much better than the real one.
Qiu Yu kept walking forward. She never looked back.
Her movements grew cold, decisive, efficient. Every time she raised her gun and fired, it was straight to the kill zone.
She quickly learned which parts of the mutant creatures to aim for to disable them most effectively.
She didn't know how much time had passed when she finally arrived at the gates of the corporate building.
A security line had been drawn. Two guards frowned as she approached and stepped forward, likely to stop her.
Without hesitation, Qiu Yu raised her submachine gun, aiming directly at their heads. Her voice was icy:
"Move. Or I'll shoot."
The recoil of the gun shook her wrist numb. She had only one magazine left—but she wasn't afraid.
Chen Ce Bai was watching her.
He hadn't shown himself, which meant two things: one, she could still handle the situation; and two, he probably wanted to see how far she would go for him.
Sometimes, he seemed even more insecure than she was.
No—he was definitely more insecure.
He needed constant reassurance, relentless displays of affection, unwavering loyalty.
The guards exchanged looks. They thought she was bluffing—how could they not? She looked far too sweet and fragile to be threatening, no matter how mature she dressed.
Qiu Yu didn't waste another word. She shifted her aim and fired at the ground near their feet—
Bang bang bang bang bang bang!
Submachine guns aren't known for their accuracy. They rely on sheer firepower. Even grown men could easily lose their grip and veer off-target under such force.
But Qiu Yu stood firm. She calmly and gracefully traced a silhouette around their bodies with her bullets.
"Still not leaving?"
The guards weren't paid enough to die for the company. They fled without a second thought.
Just as she moved forward, a hand grabbed her arm.
It was cold—unmistakably Chen Ce Bai's.
She turned, meeting his gaze.
Night had fully fallen. Neon lights painted the sky a murky, rotten lavender. The shrieks of mutants, the screams of the crowd, the droning voice of a holo-ad—all faded into white noise.
Chen Ce Bai stood in white, a faint bloodstain at his collar.
He stared at her without blinking, his gaze devouring, obsessed, terrifying.
It reminded her of that morning—the first time she noticed his near-predatory stare scorching the back of her neck. So intense, it gave her goosebumps.
That was the moment everything changed.
And the moment she stepped into a new world.
Before finding him, Qiu Yu had imagined what she'd say. Maybe she'd scream at him. Maybe comfort him. Maybe pour out all her thoughts.
But she hadn't expected to cry.
Her nose tingled, her eyes blurred, and the tears spilled before she could stop them.
Chen Ce Bai stepped closer, one hand gently cradling the back of her head, the other wiping away her tears.
"You're crying for me again," he murmured.
He glanced down at his fingertips. For a few seconds, the pads of his fingers seemed to melt into a boiling, black viscous mass—forming a grotesque vortex that swallowed her tears whole.
Qiu Yu grabbed his hand, still crying, but now clearly annoyed. "Stop doing these sanity-shattering things!"
Chen Ce Bai turned his palm over and brushed her hand with the cool edge of his cheek.
He asked, "Did you see the news?"
"I did."
"I killed someone."
"I know. He must've said something horrible."
"I'm still evolving," he said, and as his voice faded, the black liquid metal slithered up one half of his body—then silently began to spread across her as well. It wove itself into a thick cocoon, stretching into a web of fine threads.
"The evolution," he said, "might be for a single purpose—to hunt you better."
Qiu Yu felt her scalp crawl. She wanted to rip the strands off, but she knew doing so would only make him panic, possibly replicate and cling to her even more. So she held still and endured.
"I know," she said quietly.
"Eventually," he said, "I might take you to that eternal space again. I'm a selfish man. I want to be with you forever—even if it means breaking the limits of human lifespan, even if it causes you pain."
"…Well, I don't agree with that part."
Chen Ce Bai suddenly gripped her fingers tight, hard enough to hurt.
"No need to wait till the end," Qiu Yu said with a sudden smile, lifting her chin. Her voice was bright and radiant. "I want to go there now."
"Take me there. Let me belong to you, forever."
·
From the filthy, searing trash heaps to the grand corporate towers.
From barely surviving to becoming the "last hope of the lower class," then to a horrifying, grotesque monster.
From repression to indulgence.
Through it all—one person saw him the same.
Regardless of what he looked like, whether high or low, beautiful or terrifying, greedy or mad—she accepted him, without condition.
In this chaotic, insane, and numbed city—
She was the only moon he could grasp.
And the only moon he ever wanted to grasp.
(End of Story Two · Main Text)