Welcome to a world of obsession, madness, and dangerously devoted love.
This novel is a story compilation featuring yandere non-human male leads—and when I say yandere, I mean completely unhinged. Just a fair warning: some of these MLs are downright insane. You’ll either get sick of yandere MLs after this… or become utterly addicted.
But don’t expect the FLs to be your typical damsels either. Oh no, they’re far from normal. Each one of them had that twist in their mind that makes me want to drag them straight to therapy. But then again… anyone who falls in love with these men can’t possibly be sane, right?
I won’t spoil too much—where’s the fun in that? If you’re into yandere MLs, dark fantasy, and dangerously intense romance, then hop in~
Synopsis:
Story 1:
Predator Restraint
He accepted the fact that a human was driving him to restless agitation.
/
He had sharp and defined features, wore gold-rimmed glasses, and dressed in a knee-length white coat. His slender fingers were long and well-defined, faint blue veins visible beneath his dawn-colored skin, exuding an air of cleanliness, devoid of any hint of grease or filth.
Only Zhou Jiao knew—
A filthy, terrifying, wet, and writhing monster was squirming frantically inside him,
Twisting him into a paradoxical state of distortion and madness.
【Tentacle warning!】
Whenever he spoke a single sentence to her, a tingling sensation would rise at the back of her head.
///
The storm was coming again.
Zhou Jiao had gone out without an umbrella and was drenched from head to toe.
She was unfazed, casually draping a rubber raincoat over herself and continuing forward. The streets were instantly flooded with rainwater. Her shoes were filled with cold, sticky sewage.
Zhou Jiao’s expression remained unchanged.
She had long been accustomed to Yucheng’s rainy season.
Thinking about the person she was about to meet, she couldn’t help but furrow her brows slightly.
Zhou Jiao was someone emotionally indifferent. From childhood to adulthood, no matter what she did, her emotions rarely fluctuated. Even when spending her days among corpses and mutants, slicing open grayish-white skin with a scalpel, her heart rate always remained within the normal range.
Yet, as long as that person came near her, an inexplicable heat would rise in her cheeks, and her heartbeat would quicken.
It was as if she had been bewitched.
Fortunately, he did not like her. In fact, he even loathed her.
Even if their eyes accidentally met, she could see the unmistakable rejection in his gaze.
He detested her presence more than anyone.
And yet, tonight, they were going to spend the night together in the midst of this raging storm—if the location weren’t a laboratory, it would almost be romantic.
Zhou Jiao let out a self-mocking chuckle. Turning back, she saw the surging waves had already reached the height of the breakwater and quickly quickened her pace.
Half an hour later, she arrived at the Special Bureau.
The lobby and offices were already empty, leaving only messy, wet footprints behind.
Aside from her and that person, everyone else had gone home.
Zhou Jiao took off her rubber raincoat, hung it on the umbrella rack, and walked toward the elevator.
There were three elevators in the lobby. In stormy weather, the other two had been shut down, leaving only the one on the far left still operating. The red digital display showed “-2.”
It was obvious—he was already there.
Having worked with him for so long, Zhou Jiao knew that most of the time, he was an extremely calm and rational person. His conduct was impeccable; even though he deeply disliked her, he would still ask for her opinion before lighting a cigarette.
If she shook her head, no matter if he had already taken out the cigarette pack and was inhaling its scent, he would still calmly close the pack and tuck it into the pocket of his coat.
Because of this, Zhou Jiao could never bring herself to dislike him.
Of course, that peculiar reaction her body had toward him didn’t allow her to dislike him either.
How strange—why did it have to be him?
Zhou Jiao shook her head and pressed the elevator’s down button.
” Ding—”
The elevator doors opened.
A tall figure appeared before her without warning.
The man had a straight, upright posture, clad in a white lab coat that draped down to his knees. He wore blue rubber gloves on his hands.
He had sharp, cold features, well-defined lips, and wore thin gold-framed glasses. Even with a few bloodstains splattered on his white lab coat and knee-high boots, he still appeared clean and aloof.
In this filthy, muddy, rain-drenched city, his overly pristine demeanor made him seem almost arrogant.
Zhou Jiao nodded at him. “Doctor Jiang.”
Jiang Lian glanced at her and said indifferently, “Doctor Zhou, you’re late.”
Too strange.
She could get along normally with anyone—except for Jiang Lian.
Whenever he spoke a single sentence to her, a tingling sensation would rise at the back of her head.
It wasn’t a shiver of fear.
It was a numbing sensation caused by a racing heartbeat, spreading from her heart to the back of her skull.
If he moved any closer, she would even feel as if she were running a fever—her throat dry with thirst, waves of chills coursing through her.
Fortunately, Jiang Lian hated her and never came near her.
Zhou Jiao thought with relief.
But she forgot—this Jiang Lian was not the same as usual.
On rainy days, especially during storms, he would become extraordinarily irritable, a faint but terrifying hostility suppressed between his brows.
Sometimes, in the middle of an experiment, he would suddenly throw down his scalpel, rip off his rubber gloves, stride into the sterilization room, and, amidst the thick white mist, press a hand against the wall, swallowing his saliva with an indifferent expression.
Jiang Lian had never explained why he did this.
But during casual conversations, his colleagues had mentioned his background.
He was not a professional doctor and had never systematically studied human or non-human anatomy. Yet, in the entire department, almost no one called him by name—they all addressed him as “Doctor Jiang.”
Because he had been recruited by the Special Case Management Bureau.
It was said that his genes had a defect—he was born lacking Monoamine Oxidase A1Monoamine oxidase A (MAO-A) is an enzyme that breaks down neurotransmitters such as serotonin, dopamine, and norepinephrine. A deficiency in MAO-A has been linked to increased aggression and impulsive behavior. In popular science, it is sometimes referred to as the “warrior gene.”, rendering his brain incapable of responding to serotonin like a normal one. (TL: As usual, click the number beside the word and the box of footnote will show, then click anywhere to close it.)
Research indicated that most people with this condition were cold-blooded, aggressive, violent, vengeful, and devoid of basic moral awareness. They experienced intense pleasure when others were in pain.
Simply put, they were psychopaths.
Although Zhou Jiao believed that genetics couldn’t entirely determine a person’s behavior, Jiang Lian’s case was rather unique.
His family had a severe history of mental illness. Since his great-great-grandfather’s generation, nearly every descendant had been notorious for returning to crime scenes to admire their handiwork after committing crimes. Their reputation was utterly disgraceful.
Moreover, Jiang Lian was exceptionally intelligent, effortlessly gaining admission to a top-ten internationally ranked university.
Before he could unleash his destructive potential, the Special Bureau hastily recruited him.
Since he had a keen interest in dissecting corpses and mutants—and quickly became proficient—the Special Bureau assigned him to Zhou Jiao’s department.
Aside from deliberately keeping his distance from Zhou Jiao, there was nothing about Jiang Lian that could be faulted.
He was handsome, exuded a gentle demeanor, and treated others with warmth and courtesy. No matter how one looked at him, he didn’t seem like a psychopath. Over time, people began to believe he was merely a genius with an unusually bizarre family background.
Zhou Jiao thought the same.
Jiang Lian truly didn’t seem like a bad person.
The storm continued to rage. The more tightly the doors and windows were shut, the sharper and more piercing the wind howled, like the sound of a flute.
Zhou Jiao stepped into the elevator and pressed the floor button.
Jiang Lian did not look at her. He walked straight to the corner of the elevator.
He did not exchange pleasantries with her, nor did he tell her what work they would be doing next.
Zhou Jiao was long used to it.
Jiang Lian had always been like this—staying as far away from her as possible, avoiding speaking to her whenever he could.
Soon, the elevator arrived at B2.
Just as Zhou Jiao was about to go change into protective gear, she suddenly stopped in her tracks.
She had seen one of their dissection subjects for the night.
It was a man.
He lay flat on the morgue table, his skin stiff and grayish-white, as if he had been dead for quite some time. Yet, water was still dripping continuously from his feet.
“Drip, drip.”
A puddle of murky water had already accumulated beneath the corpse’s feet.
Zhou Jiao cast a questioning look at Jiang Lian.
Jiang Lian said, “He was parasitized.”
Zhou Jiao understood and went to the sterilization room to change into her protective suit and goggles before walking to the side of the corpse.
It was clear that the body had been parasitized by a low-level mutant and had already undergone a certain degree of deformation. The area behind its ears was covered in rubbery tentacle-like appendages, its nostrils were sealed shut with two clusters of pink, tender flesh that looked like healing wounds, and its neck had developed two gill-like slits, as if sliced by a blade.
Some fish, after dying, continue to move their gills. This corpse was no exception.
As Zhou Jiao approached, its gills were still trembling, opening and closing, oozing thick, black blood.
She asked, “Where is the mutant parasite?”
Jiang Lian walked to the opposite side of the table.
He was also wearing protective goggles. This entirely practical, unflattering outfit only made his sharp features appear even more cold and strikingly beautiful.
Zhou Jiao didn’t know if it was just her imagination, but tonight, Jiang Lian seemed somewhat… damp.
Even though there wasn’t a single drop of water on him, she had the illusion that his hair, eyebrows, eyelashes, and even his Adam’s apple, which occasionally moved up and down, were all cloaked in a layer of cold, clammy moisture.
Just like the mucus dripping from the corpse—equally chilling and damp.
“Zhou Jiao,” Jiang Lian suddenly spoke, his voice rigid and impatient, enunciating each word clearly, “Do not look at me.”
Zhou Jiao averted her gaze. “Apologies.”
Jiang Lian picked up the scalpel and sliced open the corpse’s abdomen.
It was hard to believe that he had never received professional training—his hand was steady, without the slightest tremor or deviation. Precise and swift.
As soon as the grayish-white skin was cut open, a dense cluster of eggs spilled out, resembling a pile of white pomegranate seeds, each one filled with pus.
The outermost eggs already showed signs of hatching. Through the transparent membrane, the vague silhouette of an embryo could be seen.
Zhou Jiao picked up one of the eggs with a pair of specially designed tweezers.
Up close, it was even more nauseating. Inside the egg, a tiny fish with a human face was curled up.
Zhou Jiao set down the tweezers, feeling a wave of nausea.
As expected, no matter the species, as long as it resembled a human, it was ugly enough to cause SAN loss2SAN loss refers to “sanity loss,” a concept often used in Lovecraftian horror and tabletop RPGs like Call of Cthulhu to describe the psychological toll of witnessing something incomprehensibly horrific..
“What kind of mutant is this?” Zhou Jiao asked. “This is the first time I’ve seen… ugh.”
She couldn’t help but retch.
“A marine mutant,” Jiang Lian said flatly. “It has no intelligence, only the instinct to survive. It parasitizes whatever it catches. During the hatching process, it camouflages itself as the most powerful organism nearby to scare off predators.”
Zhou Jiao understood. “I see, no wonder it looks so disgusting.”
She glanced at Jiang Lian, intending to lighten the mood with a joke. She was going to ask if he had ever seen a compilation of ugly cats—how, in reality, no cat was truly ugly, but if a cat resembled a human, it would instantly be labeled an ugly cat.
This fish was clearly the same—perhaps it was considered beautiful in the fish world, but due to biological instinct, it mimicked the form of the strongest creature it encountered, inadvertently turning into a hideous human-faced fish.
However, before she could say anything, Jiang Lian suddenly pinched the egg between two fingers.
His fingers were long and slender, with well-defined joints. Even through the blue rubber gloves, the sharp and elegant contours of his knuckles were visible.
Jiang Lian gazed at the egg, his expression unreadable.
After a moment, he gave a faint smile and set the egg down. “It is disgusting indeed.”
Zhou Jiao: “?”
Interrupted by him, she lost the desire to tell her joke.
The storm outside seemed to be growing even stronger.
The roar of the raging waves and the violent pounding of the rain lashed overhead like steel cables, mixed with the piercing wails of the sea wind. For a fleeting instant, Zhou Jiao had an eerie illusion—that on this brutal stormy night, the entire world had been reduced to just her and Jiang Lian.
But the moment she lowered her head, the illusion vanished.
Aside from her and Jiang Lian, several more corpses contaminated by mutants were waiting to be examined and categorized.
Zhou Jiao sighed and walked into the sterilization room for a full-body decontamination.
Ordinary mutants didn’t require such precautions, but parasitic mutants were a different matter—one couldn’t be too careful.
She didn’t notice that the moment she stepped into the sterilization room, the eggs they had stored in the container suddenly began to writhe.
Inside the transparent membranes, the human-like faces twisted in terror.
They shrank back, trembling, as if desperate to break the limits of their biology, to sprout limbs and crawl away from the man before them.
Jiang Lian removed his protective goggles, took off his blue rubber gloves, and put his gold-rimmed glasses back on.
His features remained sharp and cold, his demeanor still pristine, forming a stark contrast to the grotesque, wet, writhing mass of human-faced fish eggs before him.
Yet, upon closer inspection, one would notice—behind the lenses, those beautifully shaped eyes had not blinked for a long time.
And behind him, in the space where the light could not reach, something even more terrifying than darkness was stirring.
That shadow was like a colossal living entity, carrying an unfathomable malice and power, silently creeping through the entire B2 floor, swallowing it whole.
“Boom—”
Some of the fish eggs, unable to withstand the terrifying pressure emanating from Jiang Lian, burst apart instantly.
Transparent mucus dripped down from the morgue table.
Jiang Lian didn’t spare the eggs a single glance.
He didn’t care about the survival of such low-level mutants, nor did he care whether the task at hand could be completed smoothly. He hadn’t even registered what Zhou Jiao had just said.
He only felt… hungry.
Very hungry.
Every time he saw Zhou Jiao, he would be affected by the emotions of this body, experiencing an overwhelming and terrifying hunger—forcing him to stay away from her.
It wasn’t because he possessed any heightened sense of morality, choosing to endure the searing pain of starvation rather than harm an innocent human.
He simply felt that Zhou Jiao was unworthy of being his food.
She was too ordinary.
And every time he completely devoured a person, he would temporarily inherit their personality and will.
He had no desire to inherit Zhou Jiao’s dull personality and will.
Perhaps among humans, Zhou Jiao could be considered elite—her features were delicate and striking, and every movement carried a sharp, glacial grace, like a snowy peak. Her reflexes were swift, and she could take down a grown man with a single hand.
But to him, she was still too weak.
If not for this body harboring an intense fixation on her—
To conquer her.
To kill her.
To eat her.
Jiang Lian wouldn’t have paid her the slightest attention.
In Jiang Lian’s world, Zhou Jiao was nothing more than one of the tens of thousands of small fish swallowed whole by a whale.
A great whale would never bother to savor the taste of a single fish.
Even if that particular fish was, undeniably, delicious beyond compare.
Author’s Note:
All story settings are fictional. Please do not associate them with real people or events!!!
Since this contains non-human elements, the male lead will exhibit inhuman traits. If this is a concern for you, please proceed with caution!!!