Chapter Ninety-Four

It grinned broadly, as if immensely pleased. It raised its hand, and a large membrane beneath its armpit concealed the elegant suit it wore from view.

It lifted its hand higher, the membrane stretching thin and translucent. Yet, it seemed unsatisfied, as if feeling its arm wasn’t raised quite enough.

Muttering strange, strained sounds, it reached upward, perhaps attempting to grasp the ceiling light.

It raised its arm until breathless, then its gaze fixed on the membrane under its armpit—a biological film resembling parts of deep-sea creatures, though with subtle differences that defied description.

The giant noticed it and grew furious.

With its other free hand, it grabbed the membrane fiercely and tore it away, ripping off a large piece of flesh and blood in the process.

At that moment, the sleeve of its clothing was shredded further, the membrane pulling it apart, leaving jagged edges.

In that instant, Chen Qing understood why its sleeve was damaged.

Then, the raised palm came crashing down onto the workstation, striking an unknown entity.

At the very moment it fell, the two people felt the world around them fall into a profound silence; the roar and clamor vanished, leaving nothing but those two beings.

The victim’s head was pressed into its abdomen—its neck? It no longer had one.

Its eyes bulged wide, positioned at the top of its chest cavity; its trembling hands, broken by the downward force, retained a few inches of flesh on the fingertips, which continued feebly to twitch and tap the desk.

It was dead. The monstrous creature that killed it turned its head away.

“You—take his place!”

It withdrew its palm from the corpse’s chest cavity, intestines and a mixture of milky, pale red fluids slipping through its fingers onto the floor.

It glanced downward, while two other entities beside the deceased’s workstation pushed aside documents, bent down, pulled out stools, and knelt. They lowered their heads and carefully gathered the intestines from the floor, not daring to look up, lowering their heads as they drew the entrails into their abdomens without chewing—likely unable to do so.

They pressed their lips to the ground, forcing the fresh blood into their stomachs.

When only a faint trace of color remained on the floor, they extended their tongues to lick the spots clean, restoring the surface to its original state.

Heaven knows where else they had licked; probably the entire room.

Pushing off the ground with their palms, they lifted their bodies slightly, then slid their knees forward beneath themselves, rising with arms pressed close to their legs.

They moved quickly, but the large creature emitted a discontented snort through its nose.

It swayed forward to the desk, lowering its head until its face was mere centimeters from the other’s.

Those mere centimeters were enough for its breath to condense into a thin mist on the other’s face.

But after two or three seconds, it lifted its head, furrowing its brow in displeasure at something unknown. It then took two steps to the side, approaching another coworker near the deceased.

This time, it lowered its head, suddenly breaking into a smile that lasted less than three seconds.

It smiled, reaching out to stroke the other’s face with a large palm, tenderly touching their head.

“You… sit.”

Its palm clenched hard, spilling white and red fluids all over the floor, while yellow and transparent substances splattered the desk.

Jiang Wan turned pale; she knew all too well what those were. Her legs trembled slightly, but Chen Qing remained still—she had nowhere to move.

Frozen in place, she swallowed nervously, silently pleading.

Suddenly, their actions seemed to irritate the creature.

It twisted its head, and the entire office followed suit, staring fixedly at the two of them. All movements ceased; the massive leader spoke again: “I said!”

It paused: “You! Sit here!”

Another pause: “You! Sit here!”

Its massive, blood-stained palm slammed repeatedly on the desk with terrifying force—each strike accompanied by dreadful sounds and gusts of air.

Such a blow would be devastating even against a tank, let alone a person.

Turning back, blood still dripping between its fingers, it opened its mouth to reveal an expression incomprehensible to humans.

It raised its hand, seemingly pointing in Chen Qing’s direction.

“Sit!”

It roared hoarsely, its exposed brain visible as it trembled with the shout—much like Jiang Wan’s trembling fingertips clutching her sleeve.

Sit? Sit where? Those four words echoed in her mind.

Her legs shook; her mind seemed void of thought, bereft of ideas or intentions. She felt the world around her slip into silence, as if she belonged there.

She sensed the environment swaying, and the dim room blossomed with vivid colors.

“During work hours… one must unconditionally… obey the orders of superiors.”

Her fingers slid from the edge of her clothing as she moved closer to Chen Qing’s arm, beginning to withdraw.

He noticed.

He turned back.

He saw the confusion in the girl’s eyes, her brow furrowed. He saw the black uniform slowly appearing on her body and clicked his tongue softly.

He clapped his hands, seeing no reaction from the girl. She extended her hand, about to step forward.

He turned again, looking at the massive creature before him, then glanced at the light.

As he watched the creature’s eyes follow Jiang Wan, a phrase from Zhang Lan suddenly came to mind.

“Don’t let them discover you. Don’t try to blend in.

They mimic the actions of outsiders. She saw a note—not written by her.”

He fell silent, repeating Zhang Lan’s words to himself: “Don’t. Try to blend in.”