Xiaomo’s twin towers dominated Northern District’s skyline—one fifty stories high, the other forty. Brother Long’s office on the forty-fourth floor already offered sweeping city views.

The fifty-story white tower served as a combined administrative hub, guest reception center, and luxury hotel. The other building stood in stark contrast: a pristine white walkway bridged the two structures at the fortieth floor.

Following Claudia through the passage, Ouyang noticed unsettling changes. This tower had once been Xiaomo’s private rest area and storage facility. Now, cleared of all cargo, it reeked of sharp antiseptic.

This city had once housed humans and Mosterians together. After Zero District’s construction, powerless Mosterians were abandoned outside its walls. Hybrid children—born of human-Mosterian unions—lingered in every district. Some awakened their latent Mosterian powers through life’s trials; others never did.

“We scoured Northern District’s databases,” Claudia explained, “selecting six hybrid children for specialized training. They’re raised in this hidden Xiaomo sector—Yaomo.”

Yaomo was Xiaomo’s secret weapon against Mosterians. Their unique Bloodkin lineage exempted them from city protocols. When even the Twelve Cadres failed, Yaomo eliminated the threat.

Hearing this, Ouyang guessed Brother Long brought her here to awaken her own Bloodkin potential. Once human, now infused with Mosterian blood, her assignment to Yaomo made sense. A flicker of unease stirred within her.

She’d learned her limited abilities from the Bloodkin Prince. Against foes like the invisible man or the gravity manipulator? Useless. Staring at Claudia’s back, Ouyang worried: revealing her powers would expose her contact with the Prince.

*Pointless to dwell on it*, she sighed inwardly. One question burned brighter: “Are the Twelve Cadres… like Yaomo’s members?”

“No.” Claudia’s voice turned icy. “This building houses a lab. We extract pure Mosterian genes and implant them into Cadre candidates.”

Ouyang would learn this truth eventually—Brother Long would see to it. Humanity’s victory over Mosterians came at horrific cost. Cadre candidates risked fatal gene fusion. Only those earning Xinglong Xiang’s absolute trust signed the life-or-death waivers. This secret was Xiaomo’s lifeline.

Claudia despised Xinglong’s hypocrisy: exploiting Mosterians while hating them. After the war, she’d taken indefinite leave, traveling the world to escape it all.

“We’re here.”

Claudia halted before a heavy white airlock door—like an operating room entrance, with Ouyang as her reluctant patient. Glancing back at Ouyang’s tense face, Claudia exhaled softly.

“Understand this: once you step through, there’s no turning back.”

Her original plan required Ouyang to pass three trials first. But Brother Long’s orders forced her hand. Claudia’s jaw tightened. She hadn’t wanted to bring Ouyang here. Few emerged from this place mentally intact. Some walked in; others were carried out.

“You can still turn back.”

*Turn back?*

As a mere errand boy managing Northern District’s affairs and escorting Little Qiu to school, Ouyang would never have glimpsed the Cadres’ shadows—or Yaomo’s existence. Brother Long’s summons had shattered that quiet life in an instant.

A faint, complex smile touched Ouyang’s lips—a flicker of nervous anticipation beneath the fear. “I’ve come this far. Nothing left to fear.”

Claudia pressed a red button. The airlock hissed open, revealing a dim green corridor. Glass cases lined the walls, displaying Mosterian specimens labeled with their abilities.

“This archive preserves memories from the Human-Mosterian War. Every specimen here is a relic of that era.”

After seeing Brother Long’s hidden armory and the castle’s wax maidservants, Ouyang felt little surprise. She scanned the exhibits like a museum visitor—yet no Bloodkin specimens appeared.

“The Blood Clan values unity,” Claudia murmured. “They’d rather burn under the sun than become captives.” She’d always dreamed of capturing a pure-blooded Bloodkin from Zero District for this very hall.

Beyond the corridor lay a sterile white chamber filled with medical equipment. A surgical table dominated the center.

“I’d planned to bring you here only after your trials,” Claudia said, handing Ouyang a stark white lab coat. “But time’s short. We begin now. Remove your boy’s clothes for a full physical.”

“You’ve already examined me,” Ouyang protested, accepting the coat—a crude garment smelling sharply of disinfectant. She forced it on over her clothes.

“The next part may hurt. Since you’re a boy,” Claudia added, “you’ll endure it.”

Only now did Claudia treat her as male. Ouyang’s unease spiked as Claudia approached with an electro-shock collar and metal restraint.

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t question it. Remove your black collar. Put this on.”

Heart pounding, Ouyang unclasped the black collar. The moment it left her neck, searing current jolted through her. Consciousness faded into darkness.