“You Smell Even Better, Why?”
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Zhou Jiao never expected Jiang Lian to come.
While the “man” was frantically sniffing around like a madman, she secretly opened the webpage on her personal terminal and browsed rumors about “BioTech” online.
An account called “When Will BioTech Go Bankrupt” caught her attention.
This account had been posting photos of homeless people for the past two years, without any captions—only a single candle emoji.
Zhou Jiao saved a few of the homeless people’s photos and used her access to the Special Bureau’s database to search for them. She discovered that these were all missing persons from Yucheng—some had even been officially reported as deceased by the police.
The strange thing was that, from birth to death, these people had never had any association with BioTech.
This was highly unusual.
Because BioTech was a massive monopoly. In addition to pharmaceuticals, genetic engineering, and biochemical chips, it also operated in industries such as healthcare, energy, logistics, security, and media.
There wasn’t a single person in Yucheng who could avoid coming into contact with the name “BioTech.”
Of course, you could choose not to use BioTech’s products. After all, BioTech wasn’t the only massive monopoly—besides it, there were two other corporate giants that indirectly or directly influenced people’s lives.
But could you really guarantee that when shopping online, the seller wouldn’t use BioTech’s logistics to ship your order?
Even if you explicitly requested “no BioTech logistics,” could you be sure the transport truck itself wasn’t manufactured by BioTech?
Even if you could perfectly avoid all of the above, there was still one thing you absolutely could not escape—BioTech’s biochemical chips.
Modern life was inseparable from chips: identity chips, credit chips, visual nerve chips, communication chips… Without chips, you wouldn’t be able to make calls, pay bills, check the time, the weather, or your health status—you wouldn’t even be able to scan the QR codes on roadside billboards.
And BioTech had almost a complete monopoly on biochemical chip patents.
Yet these homeless people… didn’t even have identity chips made by BioTech.
That was far too abnormal.
Avoiding association to this extent wasn’t just about avoiding association anymore—it was practically an announcement to the world:
“Yes, BioTech is responsible for these homeless people’s deaths. But you can’t prove our guilt, because they never used BioTech’s products. They didn’t even have identity chips made by BioTech.”
It seemed that the rumors about BioTech secretly conducting human experiments were, for the most part, true.
The account “When Will BioTech Go Bankrupt” had only updated until this June.
Its second-to-last post was made on June 1st, at 6:45 AM.
For the first time ever, it posted a blog entry consisting entirely of text:
【I can’t take it anymore. The people around me are all goddamn monsters!!! Why am I the only one who sees their true forms? Are you all blind?!! That person wants to turn the entire world into monsters, monsters, monsters, monsters!!! If you all keep living in this ignorant daze, one day, you’ll turn into monsters too!!!! I don’t understand why you’re not afraid??? Every day, I’m terrified of dying!!! Afraid that it’s poisoning the ■■■!!! Hahahahahaha bet you didn’t expect that, the moment ■■ was invented, the gears of conspiracy began turning!!! The more you use ■■, the more you have to get ■■■, and both ■■ and ■■■ belong to it!!! Sooner or later, it will rule the world hahahahaha we’re all doomed together!!!!】
Zhou Jiao scrolled down to read the comments. There were only a few:
— “New insane rant? Never seen this one before, copied.”
— “Who doesn’t wish for the world to end?”
— “What the hell, you’re actually a real person? I thought this was just an automated photo-posting bot.”
— “What are ■■ and ■■■? It’s already the year 2076, can all these cryptic message-posters just get off the planet?”
At 7:00 AM, “When Will BioTech Go Bankrupt” posted its final blog entry:
【I’ve found a way to bring down BioTech. Once the god descends, everything will come to an end.】
This time, he attached an image, but the platform censored it.
Compared to the previous post, which had only a handful of comments, this one had as many as five thousand comments. Just as Zhou Jiao was about to open the comment section, her cheek suddenly felt hot—a splash of liquid, thick with the strong stench of blood and rust, flew onto her face.
She reached up and wiped it.
It was blue blood, unique to mutants.
—The surrounding mutants, who were also BioTech’s security personnel, had all somehow died.
She looked up in confusion and saw an unexpected figure.
Jiang Lian stood not far away, clad in a gray-white coat. His figure was tall and straight, his entire being exuding an aura of cold beauty—that is, if one ignored the terrifying chill in his expression.
Zhou Jiao didn’t know what to say.
She had originally planned to go along with the flow and sneak inside BioTech’s headquarters to find out what was really going on. But now that Jiang Lian had arrived, her plan was completely disrupted.
She had a strong intuition that Jiang Lian’s appearance—or rather, the appearance of the monster inside him—was somehow connected to that account, “When Will BioTech Go Bankrupt.”
But if she wanted to know what that account had experienced and why its last post had been censored, she would have to get inside BioTech’s headquarters.
However—all the “people” who could take her inside were now dead.
Zhou Jiao’s eye twitched slightly.
—No. There was still one “person” left.
Zhou Jiao narrowed her eyes and looked at Jiang Lian.
He was looking at her too. Something seemed to flash through his mind—his bloodshot eyes darkened, and his sharp, icy face twisted slightly. His expression was colder and more terrifying than ever before.
Yes, Jiang Lian could take her inside BioTech’s headquarters.
And no one could stop him.
At that thought, Zhou Jiao smiled at Jiang Lian, the corners of her eyes tilting upward—seductive yet wicked—just like when she had first realized that Jiang Lian could be her playmate.
Jiang Lian’s gaze remained icy and terrifying, but then—it dropped.
His eyes lingered on her lips.
A sudden shiver ran down Zhou Jiao’s spine.
She was certain that this tingling, numbing sensation was not fear—it was simply because of his gaze.
Perhaps it was because she had eaten his tentacle, but she could vaguely sense something about his origins.
He came from the ultra-abyssal zone of the deep sea—one of the most inhospitable regions on Earth, a well-known death zone, where darkness, cold, and silence reigned eternally.
He had no regard for anything human.
But it wasn’t contempt or scorn in the narrow sense—it was an indifference dictated by natural law.
Just as a three-dimensional human would be indifferent to the love, hatred, wars, and disasters of a two-dimensional world.
Humans would never develop a feverish obsession with two-dimensional life.
Because two-dimensional beings cannot see humans, cannot communicate with humans, and cannot comprehend human existence—yet humans can effortlessly destroy an entire two-dimensional world.
Under such circumstances, how could a human possibly obsess over a two-dimensional being?
And yet—Jiang Lian, a higher lifeform beyond human comprehension, had developed an abnormal craving for her.
Just like now—
He desperately wanted to look away, yet his gaze was stuck on her lips, as if glued in place, unable to tear away no matter what.
Zhou Jiao couldn’t help but laugh.
Seeing a higher lifeform, who regarded everything with utter disregard, being forced to obsess over her like this—
It was really hard not to feel… excited.
She even momentarily forgot that he had almost killed her.
At this moment, all she could think about was how to capture his gaze—how to deepen his obsession with her.
She wanted to engrave herself completely into those lofty, indifferent eyes.
Zhou Jiao lowered her gaze, thinking to herself:
“I really am a little crazy.”
Just last night, Jiang Lian had almost killed her.
She had seen his horrifying true form, she knew that he was an uncontrollable, unbeatable monster.
And yet today—
She felt an overwhelming desire to conquer him.
And at the same time—
She still wanted to kill him.
Zhou Jiao felt as if something inside her had been unleashed.
From the very beginning, she had never been satisfied with an ordinary, peaceful life—she craved the thrill of walking on the edge of death.
Jiang Lian’s inhuman nature not only failed to instill fear in her—it actually made her feel an unexplainable sense of anticipation.
At that moment, a shadow suddenly loomed over her.
Jiang Lian had stepped in front of her. His voice was icy cold:
“What are you laughing at?”
He paused, then reminded her:
“You’re about to die. Without me providing you with energy, you’ll starve to death immediately.”
Zhou Jiao had originally intended to say, “You won’t let me die.”
But after a moment of thought, she swallowed the words back down.
With this monster’s unpredictable temperament, she might very well be killed on the spot the moment she said that.
Now was not the time to test the limits of his tolerance toward her.
She pondered for a moment, then suddenly curved her lips into a sly smile, diverting the topic with ease:
“I’m laughing because you’re about to die too.”
Jiang Lian stated matter-of-factly:
“I will not die.”
There was no arrogance in his tone, nor any disdain—only the calm certainty of an absolute, unbreakable law of nature.
Zhou Jiao shook her head:
“No, you will. You’ve provoked the company.”
Jiang Lian’s brows furrowed slightly. His attention was successfully diverted.
“The company?”
Zhou Jiao didn’t dare to overact, afraid that he would see through her. She kept her tone as natural as possible, making sure it wasn’t too different from her usual way of speaking:
“Yes, the company. You’re not human—you don’t understand how terrifying the company is. Let me put it this way: fifty years ago, there were nearly two hundred countries in the world. When people introduced themselves, they would say which country they were from. But now, they only say which company they belong to.
“As for the unemployed and small-company workers? They don’t even have the right to introduce themselves.”
Jiang Lian didn’t even blink.
“So, humans have simply found a new way to categorize their social groups. That is your concern. What does it have to do with me?”
“It didn’t concern you before. But now it does.”
Zhou Jiao tilted her head, deliberately putting on an innocent expression, letting his cold, indifferent gaze bore into her:
“You killed so many of BioTech’s security personnel. There’s no way they haven’t noticed you by now.
“This city is filled with BioTech’s surveillance cameras. Every single person has a BioTech chip implanted in the back of their head…”
“They control life and death in this city. They are the true gods—”
“Gods?”
Zhou Jiao nodded.
“What is a god? A god is eternal, immortal, and omnipotent. As long as the company masters the key to extending human lifespan—Then they can create gods.”
“These,” she lifted her chin toward the mutant corpses on the ground, “are proof of the company’s attempts to create gods. They are testing the limits of the human body, trying to make humans as long-lived and indestructible as mutants.”
Jiang Lian said nothing.
“Maybe you are the most perfect creature in the world, infinitely close to godhood. But how can one of you stand against an entire army?”
“BioTech has at least tens of millions of employees. If they want to kill you, it would be as easy as turning a hand.”
Jiang Lian’s expression remained unchanged, but his gaze once again dropped to her lips.
Even the movement of his Adam’s apple had quickened.
He was close to being convinced.
Zhou Jiao lowered her eyes, concealing the cunning glint in them, and continued:
“Of course, with the level of human technology today, it’s impossible to kill a higher lifeform like you. But you have to understand—sometimes, living is far more painful than dying.”
“When the company realizes that no matter what they do, they can’t kill you—what do you think they’ll do?”
“Will they worship you as a god?”
“Or will they do everything in their power to capture you, study you, and extract your immortality to transfer it to their ruling class?”
Jiang Lian remained expressionless and silent, but the movement of his Adam’s apple quickened even more.
Very good. She was successfully sowing discord.
Though it was manipulation, every word she spoke was true.
If the company discovered Jiang Lian’s existence, their first reaction would undoubtedly be to eliminate him using all available military force.
If they could kill him, that would be great.
But the reality was—even the multi-billion-dollar combat machines that the company had developed were utterly worthless before him.
If elimination was impossible, then the only option left was research.
The company’s people would swarm toward him like a horde of termites.
Even the strongest dam would one day collapse under an ant’s nest—
Jiang Lian might have absolute dominance over mutants, but the company’s security forces didn’t just consist of humans and mutants.
They also had biochemical humans and combat robots that had yet to be deployed.
Thinking of this, Zhou Jiao suddenly felt uncertain.
Could Jiang Lian really defeat these corporate giants?
She needed to prepare an escape route for herself.
Just as this thought flashed through her mind, her jaw was suddenly clamped between two fingers.
An overwhelming sense of oppression, beyond what a human should be able to withstand, descended upon her.
Jiang Lian’s eyes moved slowly, his gaze behind his glasses razor-sharp, slicing inch by inch down her face.
That almost tangible stare made her spine tingle.
Had he seen through her manipulation?
Was he going to kill her just because he hated being used by a human?
Even more unsettling was the change in the air—
It was becoming thick, damp, suffocating, as if invisible, massive tentacles were writhing and stretching through the space around them, sealing off all her escape routes, refusing to let her take even a single step back.
Cold sweat seeped into Zhou Jiao’s palms. She steadied herself, deciding to come clean and lessen the consequences.
“Alright, I admit, I was trying to—”
Trying to use you to fight BioTech.
But before she could finish, Jiang Lian suddenly spoke:
“You smell even better. Why?”
…Huh?
Zhou Jiao was stunned.
“What?”
Jiang Lian stared at her. His gaze was thick and suffocating, like a stifling heatwave, making it difficult for her to breathe.
“You ate my tentacle, yet you aren’t under my control. Why?”
His voice was deep, slow, and dangerously calm.
“You’re lying to me.”
“You want to use me to restrain your ‘god,’ to have me fight it to mutual destruction—but deep down, you’d prefer it if your ‘god’ killed me instead.”
“You do not revere me. You want to stay far away from me. You are filled with malice toward me.”
He gazed at her.
Behind the gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes seemed cold and unfathomable—but within that calm, there was something subtly fractured.
As if, at any moment, a crack might split open—
And from within, something indescribable and terrifying would spill out.
“And yet—”
His gaze dropped lower, clinging to her like a vice.
“You have become even more irresistible to me.”
“Why?”