Returning to His Side
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At this moment, Zhou Jiao was slurping noodles noisily in a ramen shop.
Her hand was wrapped in a bandage, with faint traces of blood seeping through as she moved, but she didn’t even flinch. Halfway through eating, she found the noodles not spicy enough and added two large spoonfuls of chili sauce.
For the past three days, she had been discarding bloodstained clothes all over the place while investigating the identity of “When Will BioTech Go Bankrupt.”
And she actually found something.
A small vendor told her that a certain office worker would come here every few days to provide warmth to the homeless nearby.
Because such a kind-hearted person was a rare sight in a hundred years, the people around him had a deep impression of him. Even after six months, they still remembered his appearance.
“…He looks like a good person. Not only did he bring food to those homeless people, but he also helped introduce them to jobs,” the vendor said. “But homeless people are just homeless people. They only want free food. Even if you send them to work, they’ll get fired by their bosses soon enough.”
Zhou Jiao finished her noodles, took a big sip of spicy soup, and, still feeling unsatisfied, ordered another bowl.
“And then?”
“And then? That office worker got really angry. It was the first time we had ever seen him lose his temper. After that, he never came back, and those homeless people disappeared too. No one knows what happened.”
The vendor asked, “—Are you his friend? He rented an apartment nearby, but there’s been a rat infestation lately. The place is crawling with mice. He hasn’t been there for about half a year. You might want to ask him if he has any important documents stored there, in case they get gnawed on.”
Zhou Jiao took the bowl of noodles and continued slurping noisily.
“Alright, I’ll go check it out later. Thanks for telling me.”
“You’re welcome,” the vendor rubbed his hands together. “If you happen to run into him, can you ask if that security job is still hiring? My son just graduated and is looking for work…”
Without batting an eye, Zhou Jiao agreed without hesitation, “No problem, I’ll definitely ask for you.”
After finishing her noodles, Zhou Jiao tore off the bandage, revealing that the wound had already begun to heal.
Her expression didn’t change. She clenched her fist and forcibly pressed on the wound, breaking it open again. Fresh blood immediately gushed out, soaking the bandage.
For some reason, despite only sleeping a few hours over the past three days, spending all her time either eating or on the run, she felt more energized than ever. Her wound-healing speed was also accelerating.
She recalled what Jiang Lian had said before—without him supplying her with energy, she would starve to death immediately.
He must have been giving her something. That’s the only reason her energy levels were this high.
Zhou Jiao couldn’t help but start to doubt.
What exactly was Jiang Lian doing? Chasing her down while also supplying her with energy?
Was their gap in understanding caused by a difference in species, or was it a mental condition? Why did she feel like even among monsters, his mental state wasn’t exactly normal?
Zhou Jiao thought about it for a while before tossing Jiang Lian to the back of her mind.
She couldn’t let herself sink to his level just to defeat him. She was still young—she didn’t want to go insane yet.
Following the vendor’s directions, Zhou Jiao arrived at the rat-infested apartment.
Security in this kind of building was practically nonexistent. A high school student with a connecting cable could hack their way in.
She plugged her personal connection cable into the door’s interface, and in less than two seconds, the door unlocked.
A musty smell hit her face. The room was covered in dust, with rat footprints all over the place. The yellow waterproof tape on the window frame had been gnawed open, leaving a large hole. Rain drizzled in, soaking half of the wall.
A box of half-eaten locust pizza lay discarded on the plastic flooring, covered in a sickening layer of white mold.
Zhou Jiao covered her nose and mouth, stepping around the pizza as she walked inside.
It was clear that the company’s people had already been here. There were signs of a thorough search everywhere. Even the sofa hadn’t been spared—its leather and foam had been slashed open with a sharp object, and the springs had been pulled out.
Zhou Jiao was somewhat disappointed. She pinched the bridge of her nose and was about to leave when she suddenly heard voices and approaching footsteps from outside:
“We’ve already searched this place three times. Why are we searching it again today?”
After a moment, another person finally responded, “Talk less, work more.”
“Big Brother, it’s not that I don’t want to work, but this area is too dangerous… Haven’t you seen the news? A lot of people have seen a monster around here.”
“Trust me, if you don’t do your job properly, the company will become even scarier than the monster.”
Before they entered, Zhou Jiao silently climbed out of the window and left.
From their conversation, she gathered two key pieces of information:
First, Jiang Lian had already caught up to her—but for some reason, he was no longer maintaining his human form.
The reason she was certain it was Jiang Lian and not another mutant was that only Jiang Lian would be referred to as a “monster.” Any other mutant would be contained or eliminated by the Special Bureau within an hour.
Second, the company had somehow learned that she had tracked her way here and was planning to search the place again before she could.
Between the two, the first point surprised her more.
What had happened?
Jiang Lian actually wasn’t maintaining his human form.
Ever since she discovered his true identity, he had always remained in the shape of “Jiang Lian,” as if some force was restraining him within that form.
She had thought that until they figured out the reason for his arrival, he would always appear as Jiang Lian.
Three days had passed, and Zhou Jiao no longer wanted to keep running. After all, fleeing was also a form of exhaustion for her. But their conversation made her abandon the idea of seeking out Jiang Lian.
When Jiang Lian was losing his mind, it was better to stay far away from him.
Otherwise, in less than two days, she’d end up with his hands around her throat again, forced to play another round of his death chase game.
Since he liked the thrill of the hunt so much, she might as well let him have his fill in one go.
Zhou Jiao threw away the old bandage in her hand, tightened a new one around her wound, and turned toward the bar not far away.
Over the past few days, she had tested it out—working-girl outfits were the best at masking scents.
Maybe it was because they interacted with enough customers. When she wore their clothes, even Jiang Lian had difficulty identifying her scent.
Another bloodstained bandage.
Jiang Lian walked over, bent down, and picked it up.
Under the flickering blue neon lights, his expression was even darker and more unreadable than the lights themselves. His eyes were locked onto the bandage in his hand.
After a long moment, as if a taut string had suddenly snapped, he abruptly lowered his head, his breathing growing heavy. Like an addict suffering withdrawal, he deeply inhaled the scent lingering on the bandage.
At first, whenever he found something carrying her scent, his first instinct was to tear it apart and destroy it. He refused to let anything with her scent be touched by anyone but himself.
But as time passed, he gradually stopped wanting to destroy her belongings.
By the end, even a discarded bandage she had casually thrown away was enough to drive him into an uncontrollable obsession.
He clutched it like a treasure, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently. In a frenzy, he buried his face in the fabric, inhaling its scent with desperate greed. He even brought it to his lips, licking and sucking at the dried blood.
He didn’t want to share her scent with the tendrils.
As he breathed in, his face remained cold and composed—there were no cracks, no spasms. He looked no different from a normal person.
But anyone who saw his neurotic, obsessive behavior would never mistake him for a normal person.
The craving for Zhou Jiao’s scent made his eyes bloodshot and burning, filled with a thick, sticky infatuation—like a pervert, a madman, or a lunatic.
No one knew how much time had passed before Jiang Lian slowly lifted his head from the bandage, revealing a pair of terrifyingly red eyes.
Not enough.
He wanted more.
Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao…
Zhou JiaoZhou JiaoZhou JiaoZhou JiaoZhou JiaoZhou JiaoZhou JiaoZhou JiaoZhou JiaoZhou JiaoZhou JiaoZhou JiaoZhou JiaoZhou JiaoZhou Jiao.
—Where are you?
—Come out and see me.
Inside the bar.
The flashing lights cast red and green hues, the deafening music shook the air.
The atmosphere was dim and murky, filled with the sweaty stench of bodies.
Zhou Jiao had just bought a jacket from a dancer and was drinking at the bar, planning to leave once she finished. But at that moment, she suddenly heard someone calling her name.
“Zhou Jiao…”
Who?
She turned her head sharply, her senses keen—but saw nothing.
“Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao…”
“Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao…”
Perhaps it was just her imagination, but the air suddenly grew damp. The sound of tides whispered in her ears. The people on the dance floor seemed to slow down, their movements becoming sluggish like bottom-dwelling creatures, exuding a cold, fishy scent of the sea.
An eerie atmosphere spread through the air.
The next moment, the people in the dance floor jerked their heads toward her in unison, their bloodshot eyes filled with greedy obsession, staring at her motionlessly, madly, fixated.
“…!”
A chill ran down Zhou Jiao’s spine as they stared at her.
What the hell is this?
Their gazes were locked onto her, their expressions twisted and erratic—like a malfunctioning electronic screen flickering between insanity and chaos.
Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao, Zhou Jiao…
Look at us.
Look at us, look at us, look at us.
He is looking for you.
Go back to his side.
Go back, go back, go back.
Go back to his side. Go back to his side. Go back to his side.
Zhou Jiao abruptly stood up and forcefully pinched her palm. It hurt—blood seeped out. This wasn’t a dream.
She had thought that after three days of running, she had started hallucinating.
What the hell was going on?
Did Jiang Lian lose the game and fly into a rage out of humiliation?
Or had he gone mad from his craving for her after not smelling her up close for three days?
Zhou Jiao’s mind raced. She didn’t know whether to believe the former or the latter.
If it was the former, she definitely couldn’t appear in front of Jiang Lian right now—showing up meant death.
If it was the latter…
Could it really be the latter?
Did she have that much influence over Jiang Lian?
Had just three days of separation driven him to such an extreme level of longing that he had taken over everyone in the bar?
—No.
She narrowed her eyes and carefully observed the expressions of the people around her.
This wasn’t parasitism.
It was more like their consciousness had been affected by some overwhelming and bizarre magnetic field.
Just then, a hand grabbed her wrist.
The bartender’s eyeballs twitched wildly, his body trembling uncontrollably. He lowered his head and took a deep, shuddering breath against the wound on her palm:
“You smell so good… so good, so good, so good… Go back to his side. He’s looking for you. The game is over. Go back to his side… go back to his side, go back to his side… He’s looking for you.”
Zhou Jiao’s brow twitched. She grabbed the glass from the table and splashed the liquor into the bartender’s face. Seizing the moment when he reflexively recoiled, she stepped back three large strides.
But soon, more hands reached toward her.
All of their eyes twitched wildly like the bartender’s, their faces contorted with terrifying obsession, hands stretching out to seize her.
Yet before they could touch her, some invisible force yanked them back.
A strange, low hum echoed through the air around them:
“—You are not allowed to touch her.”
With that moment of reprieve, Zhou Jiao had already turned and fled from the bar.
The situation outside seemed a little better.
But she had barely taken two steps when she felt the weight of scorching, thick, and sticky gazes pressing down on her.
She turned her head—and instantly, a chill shot up her spine.
Unknowingly, everyone around her had stopped moving—the teenager wearing headphones, the man carrying a briefcase, the woman in red fishnet stockings, the company employee on a phone call.
Their eyes clung to her like a fly’s sticky feet, glued to her every movement.
The most terrifying part was that their gazes were utterly devoid of consciousness.
It was like iron drawn to a magnet, or like a frog that only reacted to the movement of a fly—they stared at her motionlessly, their eyes shifting only as she moved.
…What the hell was Jiang Lian doing?
Ever since he had decided to play a deathmatch game with her, this question had been flashing through her mind nonstop.
Three days had passed, and instead of her—the hunted—going insane, he was the one starting to lose his mind?
She couldn’t figure it out.
Forget it. Since he wanted to see her so badly, he probably wouldn’t harm her.
Zhou Jiao let out a breath and stood still. Looking at those unwavering, staring eyes, she said:
“I won’t run anymore. Let him come see me.”
After thinking for a moment, she cautiously added:
“If he’s looking for me just to kill me, then you’d better not let him come. Because I will escape again. And this time, I’ll run somewhere he’ll never find me. You should know that scent, as a chemical signal, can be altered. Just by changing a few clothes, he already can’t track me. Give me a lab, and I can completely fool his senses.”
The moment her words fell, the air nearly froze.
The faces around her gradually twisted, blood-red veins creeping into their eyes. Their gazes locked onto her with a look as if they wanted to devour her alive.
“You… are threatening him.”
The scene was truly bizarre—anyone with even slightly weaker nerves would have felt their hair stand on end.
But Zhou Jiao felt an eerie excitement instead.
—The monster was obsessed with her.
He couldn’t be without her.
Whether he still harbored the intent to kill her, malice, or some abnormal craving, the fact that he couldn’t do without her was already enough to exhilarate her.
He was the one who had handed the rope into her hands.
And once she grasped it, she wouldn’t let go.
Zhou Jiao smiled faintly. “That’s right. I’m threatening him.”
As she spoke, she unraveled the bandage on her hand, exposing the wet, crimson wound beneath.
“Either agree to my terms, or continue this game. To be honest, I’m starting to get addicted to it.”
Countless pairs of eyes fixated on her, burning with an intensity that seemed like they wished to tear her apart and devour her whole.
The scene was, in reality, utterly terrifying—the entire street full of people staring at her, unblinking, unmoving, their noses twitching unconsciously as they frantically sniffed the air, trying to take in her scent.
At the same time, the temperature plummeted, and the air seemed to flow like seawater, creating a subtle resistance and a chilling sensation.
For the first time, Zhou Jiao felt Jiang Lian’s power so directly.
He was strong, terrifying, almost omnipotent.
As long as he wanted to find her, he could find her.
He was everywhere, like a ghost.
Even if he couldn’t reach her in person, the eerie magnetic field and strange sound waves would still surround her—like an incurable pathogen. Once infected, one would carry the disease for life.
But this terrifying monster—this being that seemed almost omnipotent—actually hesitated, stopping in his tracks because of a mere human’s threat.
They stared at her palm, their eyes twitching and flickering madly.
They craved her scent, craved her blood, craved the faint traces of saliva that appeared when she spoke. Yet at the same time, they feared that she would continue to run, continue to bleed, continue to be injured.
No one knew how much time had passed before they finally emitted a strange soundwave, perfectly synchronized in frequency:
“I agree.”
The monster had compromised.
He had bowed his head to a tiny human.