"Miss Le Zhi, what’s the outcome?"
Wanghong stood with arms crossed, waiting silently until the trio finished their antics before asking in a low voice.
"Well, you saw it yourself—what a mess this criminal No. 9527 (Wild Wolf) turned out to be."
Le Zhi replied lazily.
"His mouth’s harder and fouler than a rock from a latrine. All we got were a few filthy curses."
"But that No. 9528 (Wild Boar)..."
A faint smile curved Le Zhi’s lips, dimples appearing softly on her cheeks. The stitches trailing from her mouth tugged upward with the motion, staining her otherwise sweet smile with a hint of bloody eeriness.
"Heh. Luckily, he’s no hardened veteran."
"Watching a horror flick up close scared the piss out of him—literally flooded the room. I hadn’t even lifted a claw before he spilled everything like beans from a sack."
"Though... when someone’s that terrified, I can’t guarantee how much of his testimony is true."
"Besides, this fat pig wasn’t some core gang member. Probably had zero valuable intel anyway."
"That doesn’t add up," Shening interjected, frowning.
"No matter how mediocre, a Weak Rank Extraordinary Being like 9528 should be a prime recruitment target anywhere. How could he just be some peripheral flunky?"
"Simple," Wanghong said, his deep-set eyes glinting with sharp insight.
"Either 9528’s a fresh recruit his gang doesn’t fully trust..."
"...or 9527’s identity isn’t what it seems."
His gaze swept over the silent faces around him.
"If it’s the former, everything makes sense. But if it’s the latter? Then 9528 was likely 9527’s puppet—a thug loyal only to him."
"A thug who answers to one master doesn’t need to know much. He just needs to know *who* to hit, *how* to hit them, and *how hard*. Too much knowledge risks divided loyalties."
Shening’s eyes widened in realization.
"How’s 9527’s physical condition?" Wanghong pressed, shifting focus.
"Interrogation protocols have loosened, but Federation rules still demand we preserve life signs and basic motor function post-questioning. And 9528’s state..."
"Don’t sweat it, Captain Wang."
Le Zhi sauntered to the coffee machine, filling a cup with steaming brew. She waved dismissively over her shoulder.
"All that blood? Just scratches. Our medics’ll patch him up fine."
"Besides 9527 might have a *tiny* (okay, *massive*) psychological hangover, I guarantee he’ll be bouncing back like new."
"*Mmm*, who brewed this coffee? Smells amazing~"
"Instant, Le Zhi-jie..."
---
Wanghong flipped through the interrogation report, brow furrowed.
"These two Subhumans are from the *Bones of Death*?" he muttered.
The *Bones of Death*—a notorious East District syndicate lurking in shadows. Human trafficking, contraband smuggling, illegal arms... standard gang fare. But their true poison was their core doctrine:
***Subhuman Supremacy***.
No explanation needed. Those six words reeked of toxic extremism.
Recruiting *only* Subhumans, the gang saw ordinary humans as threats to eliminate—anywhere, anytime—to secure "priority existence" for their kind.
Though quieter lately, the *Bones of Death* still topped the Scavenger Squad’s most-wanted list. Recent intel tied them to a high-risk contraband case Wanghong’s team was investigating...
"Even if 9527 and 9528 are *Bones of Death* members," Wanghong sighed, rubbing his temples, "9527 won’t talk, and 9528’s too peripheral. We got nothing useful."
*Headache*.
Ashi City’s Scavenger Squad was stretched thin. Monster surges in the Containment Zone had drained their Strong Rank personnel. What remained? Barely a dozen fighters—including himself and Le Zhi. Only one Strong Rank medic was stationed at the national hospital; the rest were Weak Rank grunts.
And now they had to clean up East District’s mess.
*Internal strife, external threats. Perfect.*
His office door creaked open. A slender masculine hand pushed it wide.
"Where’ve you been? Took your time," Wanghong set down the report, voice heavy.
"...Minor complication," the gloomy young man replied, shrugging on his Scavenger Squad uniform from the wall hook.
"What kind?" Wanghong pressed, frowning.
"Something to do with you not waiting at the scene?"
The youth’s hands stilled mid-button.
*That* was the issue.
But he wouldn’t admit it.
His mind flashed to the pink Little Succubus—her alluring charm, the way her tongue had teasingly traced his palm...
After a pause, he nodded stiffly.
"...Yes."
"Reason?"
"Stomach cramps. Urgent bathroom break."
*Liars don’t get second chances.*
Wanghong had raised this kid since he was knee-high to a grasshopper. He knew every lie, every shift in his stance. *Bathroom emergency?* Pure nonsense.
Yet Wanghong let it slide.
The boy was twenty-six now—a full-grown man accountable for his own choices. As his foster father, Wanghong only demanded he stay within protocol and come home alive. That was enough.
"Report on tonight’s patrol," Wanghong switched gears.
"Nothing."
The youth’s voice was flat.
"Streets were quiet. Their usual haunts? Silent."
"They’re lying low."
Wanghong leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Did we leak our position despite precautions?"
The youth stepped forward, scanning the report Wanghong left on the desk.
"*Bones of Death*..." His own brow knotted at the name.
"Checked KTVs, bars, clubs?" Wanghong tapped his desk.
"Pointless." The youth shook his head.
"We *know* those fronts are gang-backed, but their registered owners are squeaky clean. Contacts use multi-layered cutouts—impossible to trace the web."
"Raiding them just spooks the rats and burns our cover. Zero payoff." His gravelly voice stayed calm.
*Sound logic.* Wanghong agreed inwardly.
"Right. Forget it, kid." He waved a tired hand. "Our cover’s blown. No more East District runs for now."
"No. I request to continue."
The youth’s refusal startled Wanghong.
"Oh? Your reasoning?"
This kid never acted on impulse. His words held weight.
"A patience contest."
The youth’s tone stayed even.
"We lose nothing hiding in shadows. But for *them*? Time is money. Hoarding contraband while lying low means no profits. Anyone with a shred of Greed can’t stomach that forever."
"Time’s our cheapest resource. And with our manpower shortage? Waiting *helps* us."
Only before this father-figure did the usually silent youth speak so freely. His argument swayed Wanghong—but the unspoken risk hung heavy:
*His life.*
Covert ops meant small teams. Exposure meant ambushes. Danger multiplied exponentially.
Losing any squad member hurt. Losing *this* one—his almost-son—was unthinkable.
"I refuse. It’s too dangerous."
After a moment's consideration, Wanghong rejected the proposal.
Earlier, before Le Zhi, Shening, and Yue Sibei, he had presented two theories about Wild Wolf and Wild Boar's backgrounds.
He found the latter more plausible: that Wild Wolf's identity wasn't simple.
He either held a position in the "Bones of Death," or had solid connections there.
In any case, the youth who had knocked out Wild Wolf with one punch and sent him to the Scavenger Squad would definitely be targeted by these fanatics who believed in "Subhuman Supremacy"—at least by their leader.
This was far too dangerous for the young man.
Direct attacks are easy to block, but hidden threats are hard to avoid.
Even if the youth was exceptionally strong among his peers, he couldn't single-handedly hold off an entire army.
Facing these shadow-dwelling assassins, Wanghong believed the youth lacked the means to ensure his own safety.
"I think it's worth a try. I have full confidence in my own strength."
Rarely, the usually obedient youth now stood firm, refusing to yield an inch. This greatly surprised Wanghong.
Though unspoken, he didn't think the gloomy youth would miss the obvious danger.
In his memory, the youth had always been indifferent to task completion—simply obeying orders without question.
Tasks came, he did them; none came, he didn't. Simple as that.
So why this stubbornness today?
Utterly baffled, Wanghong grew even more reluctant to let him take the risk.
"I understand, you rascal."
"Though your father's 'Spiral Force,' combined with your 'Special Ability,' lets you unleash power far beyond 'Weak Rank'... remember, even the most foolproof plan can meet unexpected accidents."
A deep weariness and pain flashed in Wanghong's black eyes—weathered by time yet still burning fiercely—as if recalling a past he never wished to revisit.
"Learn from our mistakes. Don't follow our path... Fusiming."
"Your father... your mother... Fusizhi and Qi Lu... they'd never want you in danger. They entrusted you to me, hoping you'd grow up safe and live a peaceful life."
"Honestly, letting you join the Scavenger Squad was already a decision I deeply regret."
"So this time, listen to Uncle Wang. Let's postpone this task, okay?"
