Yue Ge’s orders from Bai Ya were clear: retrieve a crate of sedatives from the warehouse, then head to the Operations Division to escort a test subject back to the lab. He’d brought his tablet today; as long as he followed the map, he shouldn’t get lost. Even if maps confused him, turning on navigation would guide him straight to his destination.

After studying the layout, Yue Ge grasped the building’s structure. It had five zones total. Beyond the two he’d visited, the largest—Zone C—belonged to Logistics. Part served as warehouse space; the rest supported other departments.

His target was Zone C. Zone D, Operations Division territory, could wait. All five zones were accessible on his map. With his clearance, he could wander freely except for a few restricted areas.

This access didn’t stem from Lingkong. As Bai Ya’s assistant, Yue Ge inherently held these privileges. If needed, he could even request facility use or requisition materials rated Standard Class and below—a level of authority rivaling most Research Division technicians. Not everyone could casually ask, like Bai Ya, whether High Danger Class specimens were available. Handling dangerous materials had long ceased to challenge her.

Pity. Yue Ge had no use for such power. After persistent effort, he’d abandoned Essence research entirely. His method of manipulating Essences differed fundamentally from other Chosen Ones—which explained why he never needed sedatives. His Essence would never riot or threaten him. Instincts woven into his body and soul taught him how to command that power.

Thus, Yue Ge feared no danger. To him, all threats ultimately boiled down to a test of raw strength. Nothing to worry about. It wasn’t confidence. His body simply craved it—the chance to unleash every buried instinct.

He strode through corridors, took two elevators, and finally left the sterile white zones behind. Neither Bai Ya nor Wang Ming reacted to his departure. Bai Ya had granted him an unexpectedly generous two hours for a simple task: fetch one crate of sedatives and escort one person.

Memorizing the map, Yue Ge tucked away his tablet. Zone C’s layout was straightforward—no maze-like tricks like Zone B. Road signs sufficed. His clearance meant no check-ins; Research Division had its own dedicated warehouse here. Logging the retrieval later on his tablet would be enough.

Unlike the ghostly emptiness of Zone B, Zone C felt worn but alive. A few people passed by—warehouse staff hauling supplies, though their departments were unclear. The Organization had no uniforms. Occasionally, someone glanced at Yue Ge, but their eyes flicked away upon spotting the badge in his chest pocket.

Ignoring them, Yue Ge followed signs to the corridor’s end and stopped before the Research Division’s private warehouse. Unlike others, this held materials exclusively for Research. No guard stood watch—only a card reader. Yue Ge swiped his badge. The door slid open.

Inside, Research Division’s signature aesthetic dominated: blinding white walls, towering shelves lining both sides, a wide central aisle. Spatially, it dwarfed Room 201. At the far end sat several large shipping containers—likely for storing monster carcasses.

Yue Ge’s first impression? Vast emptiness. Shelves stood so far apart, several trucks could park between them. Then he recalled Bai Ya requisitioning six containers recently. The cleared space made sense.

The door sealed shut behind him. Unfazed, Yue Ge walked deeper. Bai Ya mentioned sedatives were packed in large corrugated boxes, visible right after entry. Indeed, those cardboard crates clashed starkly with the high-tech warehouse. Even from afar, Yue Ge spotted them stacked on shelves.

“This one?” He lifted a box, examined it, even tapped its gray, unmarked surface. Only a label on the seal offered identification.

As Yue Ge turned to leave, an instinct flared—but he showed no reaction. He’d already confirmed no one hid between shelves or beneath them.

*—Closing in.*

His irises bled from white to profound black.

Only at the last moment did the sound of rending air erupt. Twin combat knives crossed, aiming for his neck, sealing every escape angle. The ambush struck true—but inflicted no wound.

*What—* Mi Lin’s pupils contracted as black mist exploded where Yue Ge had stood. No time for shock. She dropped low and recoiled instantly.

A wise choice. Before his form fully re-coalesced, Yue Ge slashed backward with a blade of Death Aura. A fraction slower, and her head would have rolled.

“Quick reflexes,” Yue Ge remarked, facing the black-clad girl. Calm. He hadn’t sensed her approach. Irrelevant. He’d caught her now.

Mi Lin studied him silently, calculating odds. That misty evasion confirmed high-tier Essence manipulation. After that failed strike, subduing him swiftly was impossible. Worse, his defense mechanism remained unknown.

“No follow-up?” Yue Ge tilted his head, a slightly unhinged smile playing on his lips. He gripped the Death Aura blade, stepping closer. “Try again. You might kill me.”

*This is bad.*

*Really bad.*

The thrill surged through him, impossible to suppress.

Once battle began, Yue Ge knew he wasn’t himself anymore. Caged instincts would break free—until he returned to that cage. Until then, he wouldn’t stop.

Mi Lin exhaled sharply, tightening her grip on her knives. “This zone is locked down. You can’t escape.”

“No,” Yue Ge shook his head. Moving purely on instinct, he spun and seized her wrist. His other hand thrust backward—

—and pierced empty air.

The contact vanished a heartbeat before impact. Mi Lin had disengaged again.

No matter. The outcome never changed. Within his Death Aura’s reach, Yue Ge had no blind spots. The whispers of death guided his every move. He only needed to fight freely.

Each near-death experience fueled his exhilaration. Each death made him stronger. He wasn’t unkillable—but as his Death Aura thinned, his power surged. This was merely the beginning.

Yue Ge turned fully toward Mi Lin, voice soft yet absolute:

“The one who can’t escape… is you. I invite you to die here.”