Chapter 86: Li Yuan’s Blood Sample

With a soft, rustling hiss, the short blade effortlessly sliced through the fragile surface, slipping between the thin peel and flesh. Juices seeped out, trailing down the smooth side of the blade. Round and round, the peel fell away in neat, measured strips, landing on the sheets of paper folded out beneath.

The blade, slender as a cicada’s wing, was held steady in a hand with a perfectly stable grip. It looked less like peeling fruit and more like sculpting stone. The room was dimly lit, the only source of illumination a solitary lamp on the ceiling of the square space. It shone down on the square table, illuminating the hand holding the blade—and the pale silver handcuffs encircling the wrist. The material didn’t look like iron; its touch was cold and unyielding.

“You don’t eat the peel? What a waste,” came a voice from the silhouette on the opposite side of the table, a voice as clear and crisp as a mountain spring. “Mind if I do?”

Yu Mi’s hand paused on the blade. He sighed. “Help yourself.”

With a slight headache, he watched the silhouette on the other side reach out without a shred of politeness, pick up the neatly piled apple peels from the paper, and eat them. He pulled two sheets from the stack beside him and passed them over for the person to wipe the fruit juice from their fingers.

Sitting across the table was a woman in a light gray formal jacket and matching skirt, her makeup sharp and cold. Her eyebrows were long and impeccably groomed, her eyeshadow a deep, somber tone. Her bloodless cheeks were somewhat pale—Yu Mi couldn’t use the word ‘beautiful’ to describe her, for that word was reserved for the living. She looked more like a mannequin that had suddenly started moving, making one wonder if her porcelain-white skin was actually made of ceramic.

On her left breast was a badge. It was broadly similar to an Executor’s badge, with one key difference: the areas that were typically gray had been replaced with a deep, absolute black. The other side remained empty, bearing nothing at all.

Yu Mi stared at the badge without speaking. He knew exactly what that unassuming emblem signified.

The seemingly casual woman before him was a Special Executor dispatched from Northern China. He recalled Sang Liao once telling him about this unique type of badge, but this was his first time seeing one in person. The way Sang Liao described it, the holders of these badges were practically demonized, said to never take prisoners, handling only cases involving the most heinous and brutal criminals. Even the most psychopathic monsters were said to tremble in fear at the sight of this badge… because they usually used the cruelest and most inhumane methods to complete their tasks. By the time a mission ended, they wouldn’t even bother with a body bag, destroying the remains on the spot before rushing off to find the next target.

The holders of this badge typically saw no issue with cruelty, nor did they care about humane methods. They were concerned only with efficiency, like cold, emotionless killing machines.

“Aren’t you going to eat that apple?” the woman asked again, her gaze locked intently on the peeled fruit. Trapped under that stare, Yu Mi could only surrender the apple. He couldn’t see any of the alleged inhumanity in the woman before him; the way she eyed the fruit with such craving had a certain unstoppable lethality to it.

Crunch. Crunch. The sound of apple-eating echoed in the small room.

Yu Mi couldn’t take it anymore. He finally asked, “So, is there something you need to question me about?”

It was the only reason he could think of for her to seek him out. The case she was currently handling was most likely connected to the abnormalities manifesting within him.

The woman extended a hand, seemingly gesturing for him to wait. She clearly possessed good breeding, strictly adhering to the principle of not speaking while eating. She finished the apple with impressive speed, and what truly left Yu Mi flabbergasted was that she didn’t even discard the core, eating every last bit of it clean.

After consuming the entire apple, she looked slightly regretful, as if not yet full, but she nonetheless wiped her fingers clean and said, “That was delicious.”

“…You’re welcome,” was all Yu Mi could manage. The woman had completely thrown off his rhythm. It felt like preparing for a life-or-death struggle, stepping into a gladiator’s arena, only to find the savage beasts joyfully dancing. He was momentarily bewildered, unsure whether to roar and start fighting or put down his weapon and join the dance.

“Pingjiang Group 2 Team Leader Yu Mi. Eleven years on the job. Your Syndrome is… Severance? A very interesting Syndrome,” the woman rested her chin on one hand, speaking with piqued interest. “With your ability, even the ones in Team 1 are no match for you. Why stay in Group 2?”

“No particular reason,” Yu Mi said. “I’ve just gotten used to it.”

“Nostalgia?” The woman sighed. “Your ability is quite well-suited for clean-up work. Have you considered transferring to a different unit? I could write you a letter of recommendation.”

“Thank you for the kindness, but I’ll have to decline.”

Yu Mi didn’t hesitate for a second. He guessed that her so-called ‘clean-up work’ was referring to being a Special Executor. Sang Liao had been right; those who did that job truly lacked any sense of humanity. The term ‘clean-up’ alone revealed that they didn’t see their targets as living things, but rather as moving piles of trash residue in urgent need of disposal, nothing more.

“What a pity,” the woman’s voice sounded rather regretful. “You should reconsider.”

Yu Mi didn’t want to waste any more time on this pointless chatter. He asked directly, “What do I need to cooperate with? Please be direct.”

The woman reached out and placed a row of glass test tubes on the table. There were six in total, each about the width of a finger, filled with a viscous, dark-red fluid. It didn’t look like blood; it more closely resembled thick, dark-red paint, even emitting tiny outward-bursting bubbles.

Yu Mi’s expression shifted dramatically. He instinctively wanted to reach out, but the sight of the woman before him made him forcibly restrain himself. He knew that the moment he did, that harmless facade might instantly tear away, revealing the terrifying cleaner beneath.

The woman watched the expression on his face with keen interest before continuing, “This is the real blood sample of Group 2 Executor Li Yuan. You tampered with the sample submitted during her physical examination, assisted by Group 2 member Zhou Liao. Is my statement correct?”

Dead silence fell over the interrogation room. Yu Mi said nothing, but his silence was already answer enough.

His Mind Lake ran ice-cold. He had no idea how this woman had obtained these six vials of blood. The secret of Li Yuan’s blood sample was known only to him and Zhou Liao. Even Fang Qi was unaware of the matter. Yu Mi had personally disposed of the real sample immediately. Yet, the woman not only produced the samples but did so six vials at once. He couldn’t even question their authenticity, for Li Yuan’s real blood was precisely like this—viscous as paint.

This was Group 2’s greatest secret, the biggest secret Yu Mi had hidden. Li Yuan’s Syndrome was far from safe, contrary to what everyone imagined. In fact, she was more prone to losing control than even Sang Liao. This thick, paint-like fluid flowed through every inch of her veins, flammable like fuel and highly soluble in water. The most critical aspect was its effect. When he first extracted Li Yuan’s blood sample, he had tried diluting it and injecting it into a lab mouse. In less than a minute, the mouse began to change. It didn’t die; its body started to swell, its fur turned black, and malformed limbs sprouted from its back. It was becoming more and more like the manifestation of Li Yuan’s Syndrome.

The transformation lasted three hours. During those three hours, the poor mouse frantically scratched at the glass of its isolation chamber, emitting distorted roars. The sight was utterly horrifying. Because of this, Yu Mi hadn’t told anyone. He had only told Zhou Liao, who helped swap the samples, about the flammability.

What would happen if this blood sample were injected into a human? He couldn’t guess the outcome, nor dare he gamble on the fate awaiting Li Yuan if the truth were exposed.

“…What do I need to do?” he asked, his voice low. “You’re showing me this because there’s something you want me to do, right? Tell me, what do I need to do? I’ll do it.”

“Don’t be nervous. It’s not about what you need to do,” the woman replied, shaking her head as she put the six samples away. She then said something very strange. “You’ve let your Talent gather dust for far too long. Now, I’m going to let it reveal its proper edge.”

She extended her hands, making an odd gesture.

The slender index fingers of her left and right hands hooked together, crisscrossing. The back of her left hand faced forward, the right hand back.

Yu Mi froze. The moment he saw that hand sign, an immense terror erupted from his Mind Lake. His voice came out almost as a rasp: “That badge—you’re not actually—”

The woman made a silencing gesture.

His terrified words choked to an abrupt halt.