TIC Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Jan turned his head to meet Xiao Yan’s gaze; his eyes were steady and unwavering—a stark contrast to the rookie researcher of old, whose fingers would tremble whenever he raised a gun.

“Are you sure you want to shoot?” Jan advanced step by step.

The two special forces soldiers standing behind Xiao Yan moved to step forward, but Jan made a gesture, and they halted right where they stood.

“I will.”

“You care that much about this kid?” Jan was still smiling, the curve of his lips forming a perfect arc, yet the intensity in his gaze seemed almost enough to crush Xiao Yan.

“I don’t have many friends. Major Maya is one of the very few friends I do have—and a very important one at that. I wouldn’t just shoot for him; this isn’t even the first time I’ve done so.” The weapon in Xiao Yan’s hand was a Condensation Gun—another prototype he had fabricated during his downtime at the base.

Jan studied Xiao Yan, his gaze growing increasingly icy; yet, in the end, he released Maya.

Strolling casually up to Xiao Yan, Jan deliberately pressed his chest against the muzzle of the gun. With effortless ease, he pried Xiao Yan’s fingers open and tucked the Condensation Gun into his own waistband. He then lowered his head, leaning in close to Xiao Yan’s ear to whisper: “Don’t let me discover that he is anything more than just a friend to you. Otherwise, I’ll make his life a living hell.”

His tone was excruciatingly slow, leaving Xiao Yan standing there, frozen and unable to move.

It wasn’t until Jan Wallis had walked away that Maya finally yanked Xiao Yan toward him. “Hey! Are you okay?”

“…I’m fine! Are *you* okay? How did you suddenly show up like that? Why on earth were you picking a fight with that lunatic for no reason?” Xiao Yan landed a hard punch on Maya’s arm.

“What do you mean, ‘lunatic’? That guy is a total pervert! He was about to kiss you just now!” Maya fumed, glaring back at the two special forces soldiers standing behind him. “Is *this* how you’re supposed to be protecting him? If Lieutenant Colonel Wallis were to pin him down on a bed, would you two just stand there and watch that, too?”

The two special forces soldiers maintained their poker faces, yet a distinct look of awkwardness flickered in their eyes. “You nearly got yourself killed by that guy!” Xiao Yan scolded angrily. Seeing Maya lying in a pool of blood earlier had already frayed his nerves to the breaking point; if it happened again, he was sure his heart would give out!

“Even so, I couldn’t tolerate him laying a hand on you! I made a promise...”

“Made a promise to whom?” Xiao Yan tilted his head.

“I promised someone that I’d look out for you.”

“Who?”

“What business is it of yours!” Maya turned away in a huff and strode forcefully ahead.

Xiao Yan hurriedly chased after him, placing his hands on Maya’s shoulders from behind. “How is it *not* my business? You were being all heroic and cool, trying to protect me! Don’t be mad! How about I treat you to some beer?”

“You think you’re actually allowed to go out and drink beer? You’re under total lockdown right now—you can’t even leave the Special Task Force headquarters!”

“Okay, how about this: I’ll pay, and you go buy the beer? We can drink to our hearts’ content!”

“Yeah, right. You’d down a dozen bottles and pass out, spouting nonsense and puking all over the place.”

“Well, what else is there... go out to a restaurant for dinner?”

“Let’s just stick to dinner,” Maya muttered under his breath. “Otherwise, if I get you drunk, the Chief is definitely going to be on my case.”

“Huh? What was that?”

“Nothing! I said I want steak!”

The two sat at a dining table; the plating of the steak—true to the Special Task Force’s style—was so minimalist it completely lacked any aesthetic appeal, and the flavor remained utterly uninspired, just as it had been for decades.

“Hey, are you still having those fantasies about Liv lately?” Maya asked, feigning a casual air—a question that nearly made Xiao Yan choke on his food.

“Huh? What? About Liv...?” It was only then that Xiao Yan recalled the conversation he’d once had with Maya regarding the source of the hallucinations in his mind; back then, Maya had mistakenly assumed that the subject of his fantasies was Liv.

Amused, Maya propped his chin in his hand and leaned forward slightly. “Actually, Liv is a pretty great girl! She’s always looking out for you—it’s pretty obvious she’s got a thing for you.”

Xiao Yan fell silent.

He didn’t want to see a psychiatrist, didn’t want to consult a neurologist, and certainly didn’t want to discuss his delusions and fantasies with Casey—because he knew that if he did, Casey would unleash a relentless barrage of questions and scrutiny, ensuring he wouldn’t get a moment’s peace ever again. But Maya was different. No matter how carefree he appeared on the surface, he possessed a meticulous mind—otherwise, he never would have survived this long on the brutal battlefield. He also possessed a soldier's sense of duty; to this day, Xiao Yan still remembered the time Maya had risked his life to protect him. He was a guy who could be trusted—someone who knew how to keep a secret.

"Actually... the person I fantasize about isn't Liv."

"Huh? You mean... Sharon? You like Sharon? Oh God, I'm so sorry—I shouldn't have brought that up..." Maya immediately looked apologetic.

"I have a great deal of respect for Sharon. But she isn't the one I fantasize about, either."

"Then who else could it be? The only female special forces operatives you know are those two!" Maya furrowed his brows, thinking as hard as he could.

"It's not a woman."

Maya froze slightly. "What? Who?"

"..." Xiao Yan opened his mouth, then closed it again, but eventually forced the words out. He *had* to say it; otherwise, he’d end up having a nervous breakdown sooner or later. "It's Colonel Burton."

An empty, echoing silence fell over everything.

It remained that way until Maya’s hand jerked, sending his fork scraping across his plate with a shrill screech. Fortunately, they had arrived early, so the dining hall was almost completely empty.

Xiao Yan had expected a much more dramatic reaction from Maya, but instead, Maya simply pulled his plate back in front of him, pressed his other hand against his forehead, and asked in a hushed whisper: "Just how far have these fantasies gone?"

That was a question Xiao Yan found rather difficult to answer.

"I can't even imagine what it would look like for the Colonel to hug someone. Have you... imagined him holding *you* tight?"

"Yeah." Xiao Yan kept his head bowed.

"Kissing?"

"Yeah..." *Oh, come on—why on earth would you ask something like that?*

Xiao Yan felt just like a young teenager returning from his very first date, being interrogated by his father.

Maya fell silent for a moment, then finally voiced the ultimate question: "So... is your little asshole doing okay?"

"..." The tips of Xiao Yan's ears turned bright red. Maya’s summary gave Xiao Yan the sudden urge to die: "True to form—that’s a brain processing speed of three hundred trillion operations! Even your *fantasies* are on a completely different level than a normal person’s!"

"Maya..." Xiao Yan felt an overwhelming urge to bite the guy to death. "The whole reason I’m telling you this is to find out if there’s a solution! It’s not just *anyone* we’re talking about here! It’s Colonel Burton!"

Maya’s smile, however, remained completely relaxed—even carrying a distinct hint of schadenfreude.

"Xiao Yan, has it ever occurred to you that the reason you’re experiencing these delusions or fantasies is simply because the Boss wants to screw you?"

"Ha... Maya, have you lost your mind? Did Jane Wallis finally knock some sense—or nonsense—into your head?" It was, without a doubt, the most preposterous thing Xiao Yan had ever heard.

"A Special Forces soldier’s libido is several times stronger than that of an average person; the more it’s suppressed, the more explosively—and wildly—it erupts when finally unleashed. I’m certain the Boss hasn’t suffered any injuries *down there*, so when he sets his sights on someone he wants to take to bed—even if he manages to suppress the primal urge to tear them apart and devour them whole—that doesn’t mean he can suppress his biological instincts. The hormones surging through his system—amplified a hundredfold, a thousandfold—are simply beyond his control. These *are* indeed delusions playing out in your mind, but they also serve as signals sent directly from the Boss: he genuinely wants to have you."

Xiao Yan desperately tried to convince himself that Maya was merely spinning a tall tale to spook him, but the look on his buddy’s face was just *too* damn serious! He looked even more earnest than the professors back at the Academy of Sciences!

"No... If Colonel Burton were truly interested in someone, he could simply..."

"Simply *what*? He’d place you within a protective bubble of absolute safety—watching over you, looking after you, and holding you to a standard a hundred times higher than anyone else—but he wouldn’t actually *touch* you in the physical world. Because he cherishes you so deeply, he lives in fear that a single impulsive act might end up destroying everything."

"Listening to you talk, one would think *you’re* the one who’s actually Colonel Burton," Xiao Yan said, still unable to bring himself to believe Maya’s words.

"That’s because Colonel Burton and I share a common bond: we are both Special Forces soldiers. The things that attract us—and the things that terrify us—are one and the same."

Xiao Yan gazed into Maya’s eyes. Everyone assumed that the Special Mission Force lived a life of unadulterated glamour—that they could squander their wealth lavishly and indulge in every pleasure imaginable during their brief, borrowed time on Earth—but the truth was, their pain remained forever concealed beneath the fabric of their combat uniforms. “Alright, so the premise of your theory is that the Colonel has to be right there beside me whenever I start having delusions or hallucinations—is that right?”

“Exactly. Otherwise, how could you possibly be sensing his pheromones?”

“But my hallucinations aren't limited to just the times he’s physically present,” Xiao Yan said with a smile, finishing the last bite of his steak. He rose slowly and gave Maya a playful wink. “If a single other person gets wind of what I just told you, I’m cutting you off completely—and I’m going to cut off all your hair, too!”

“What? When else have you been having hallucinations?” Maya trailed behind Xiao Yan, but Xiao Yan just smiled and offered no reply.

“That’s a secret.” Xiao Yan didn't tell Maya that he’d even hallucinated—or rather, *dreamed*—of Hein while chatting with Casey via his terminal, or even when he’d accidentally dozed off in the lab.

After finishing their beers, Maya walked Xiao Yan back to his room, with two special forces soldiers trailing close behind them the entire way.

“You realize, of course, that your room has now become a prime target for the ‘Surge,’ don't you?” Maya tapped a finger lightly against Xiao Yan’s forehead.

“Hey! That’s the last thing I want to be reminded of right now!” Xiao Yan pressed his hand against his forehead, feigning distress; he knew Maya had brought it up just to mess with him.

Maya gave a faint smile as she brushed past the two special forces soldiers. Though her glance was fleeting, her gaze was heavy with intent, and her message was crystal clear: *Protect him.*

Even after Maya had walked away, Xiao Yan kept his hand pressed against his forehead.

*Maya! You’re absolutely—fucking—relentless! I’ve already spilled the vast majority of my secrets to you; I just wanted to keep a tiny shred of privacy for myself. Did you really have to go and scare the living daylights out of me like that?!*

Sure enough, thanks to Maya’s psychological torment, Xiao Yan couldn't fall asleep even after lying down in bed. Drifting somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, he ended up having a nightmare that left him drenched in cold sweat. He had just stepped into the bathroom to take a quick shower when a blaring alarm suddenly rang out overhead—causing Xiao Yan to slip and take a nasty tumble. The special forces soldiers stationed outside the door burst in without a second’s hesitation, only to find Xiao Yan sitting there on the floor in a thoroughly undignified heap, with the showerhead above him mockingly drenching him in water. Ignoring his disheveled state, Xiao Yan scrambled to his feet. "What happened?"

"It’s a combat alert for the Special Operations Unit. A squad was ambushed outside the city; the units on standby tonight are deploying to provide backup."

"...Has the 'Surge' infiltrated Shire yet?"

"Not yet."

Xiao Yan let out a breath, though that did nothing to ease his mind. Seeing that Xiao Yan was unharmed, the two special forces soldiers withdrew from the room. Xiao Yan closed his eyes as the water cascaded down over his head; pressing his palm against the tiled wall, he slowly clenched his hand into a fist.

Everything he had endured at the Surge’s research facility came flooding back to him.

The special forces soldiers torn limb from limb; the countless monsters; Sharon—who would never wake again...

Tonight, Xiao Yan was destined to find no sleep.

I wonder how Casey is doing? Surely a genius like him must be a target for the Surge as well?

Has Jane already left Shire?

Am I truly safe here within the Special Operations Unit? Could the soldiers standing guard outside my door—much like Cole—actually be deep-cover infiltrators from the Surge? Could the assassins from the Surge, currently prowling just beyond Shire’s borders, slip inside undetected? Is the Special Operations Unit—despite its rigorous security—truly impregnable? For all I know, they could extract my brain while I sleep, leaving nothing but my cold, lifeless corpse to be discovered in my bed come morning...

He had always been a lazy sort; thinking was such an exhausting chore. Usually, he could sleep through anything—even if the sky were falling—yet now, what was the source of this sudden, overwhelming anxiety? It felt as though the very conviction that had sustained him all this time had been abruptly drained away.

He had thought he was no longer afraid—that even death was no big deal.

But he was still terrified. Terrified that one day, his mind would no longer be his own—that the conclusions he reached, and every achievement he attained, would cease to serve the people he cared about, becoming instead the very weapons used to destroy them.

The door to the room creaked open. Xiao Yan’s nerves snapped taut, and his spine went rigid.

Who was it?

As the intruder drew closer, Xiao Yan squeezed his eyes shut, feigning deep slumber.

Was it merely the special forces soldier assigned to watch over him, coming in to check on him? Or was it... someone from the Surge?

His heart hammered against his ribs; Xiao Yan could barely keep up the charade any longer. The other man sat down beside his bed, his cool fingertips tracing the ridge of Xiao Yan’s brow—a touch applied with a pressure that offered an inexplicable sense of reassurance.

Xiao Yan slowly opened his eyes; even amidst the boundless darkness, he could discern the man’s sharply defined features.

He had truly believed that no one could ever tug at this man’s sleeve and make him pause—that not even the collective weight of the world’s expectations could crush him. Yet, in this very moment, he sat right beside him, revealing a most genuine expression at the very edge of Xiao Yan’s vision.

“Colonel Burton!”

Xiao Yan instinctively tried to prop himself up.

How could it possibly be Hein Burton? How on earth had the guy gotten in here?

The man’s body slowly leaned forward; as the distance between them steadily closed, Xiao Yan’s thoughts spiraled into uncontrollable disarray.

His palm came to rest right beside Xiao Yan’s ear, his warm breath washing over Xiao Yan’s lips. It was a silent, subtle invasion—and for the first time, Xiao Yan felt that the man before him was no longer so utterly unattainable. It was as if he had plummeted from a cliff’s edge, high against the sky, and fallen right into Xiao Yan’s eyes.

“You have three minutes. If you can’t fall asleep on your own, I’ll knock you out.”

A placid tone, a level timbre—a commanding voice that brooked no refusal, yet sounded as natural and inevitable as the laws of physics. It could belong to no one but Hein Burton.

He lifted his fingers and gently placed them over Xiao Yan’s eyes, coaxing his eyelids shut.

He was a cold, imperious man—yet few knew that the palm resting against Xiao Yan’s face was warm.

Xiao Yan recalled the night he and Hein had spent in the windbreak shelter; back then, too, Hein had stood watch beside him while he burned with fever—as if Xiao Yan had become someone this man was bound to protect.

So many questions swirled within his mind—especially those words Maya had spoken to him, which now hammered against his heart, syllable by syllable.

*Did you want to embrace me?*

*Did you ever want to kiss me?*

*Did you feel something even more uncontrollable than that?*

But Xiao Yan knew that if he dared to voice those questions, only two outcomes awaited him: either Hein would draw a blade—just as he had back at the nuclear power plant—and ruthlessly skewer every one of Xiao Yan’s fantasies; or he would simply take him right then and there. But no matter what the outcome might be, Xiao Yan knew he was not yet strong enough to accept it.

He did not know when he had drifted off to sleep; Hein’s presence permeated the deepest recesses of his mind. In that liminal state between dream and reality, it felt as though something soft brushed against his lips—a gentle press, and the world seemed to melt away.

When he awoke again, the digital clock by his bedside showed it was only seven-thirty in the morning. After washing up, Xiao Yan felt somewhat disoriented; he did not know what he was supposed to do.

Pushing open his door, he saw—just as he had expected—two special forces soldiers standing outside.

“Excuse me, did anyone enter my room last night?”

Xiao Yan could not quite fathom the source of the intense anticipation filling his heart; he even felt a sudden surge of nervousness the moment the soldier parted his lips to speak.

“Only Colonel Burton entered.”

The thoughts he had been struggling to suppress finally broke free, scattering uncontrollably through his mind.

Hein—the very man who had sat by his bedside last night, watching over him until he fell asleep—had actually been there in the flesh!

Just as he stood there, stunned, his communicator flashed with a new notification: Effective immediately, all research personnel would undergo standardized military training.

He tapped his communicator, and a holographic display of the training schedule popped up. Ranging from basic physical conditioning to combat techniques, the first three months of their time would be almost entirely consumed by training; only after passing their assessments would they be permitted to return to their respective research posts. Technical personnel—whose physical fitness and combat skills had previously gone unexamined—would now be subject to monthly military evaluations, just like those in the Military Administration and Reconnaissance Corps. Failure to pass would result in being sent back to the training camp for remedial instruction.

Xiao Yan let out a long breath. For some time now, the military’s armed forces had been critical of the technical corps—spearheaded by the researchers—accusing them of lacking combat capability during critical situations, rendering them useless as assets in mission completion, or even worse, turning them into liabilities. They had repeatedly demanded that the technical corps undergo standardized military training. The Central Academy of Sciences, however, had maintained that the primary duty of technical personnel lay in scientific research and the support of military...

Providing technical support to the armed forces is a demanding task; if limited resources and energy were to be spread too thin, research efficiency would inevitably suffer. Consequently, the armed forces' proposal had consistently been rejected. However, judging by recent events at the Research Institute, such a measure has now become a necessity. Not to mention the previous mission—had they possessed the combat capabilities of the armed forces, Sharon wouldn't have...

The video phone rang, and Mark’s expressive face appeared on the screen.

“Hey, Xiao Yan! I’ve come to deliver your combat suit!”

“Oh, thanks!”

Xiao Yan opened the door and took the combat suit from Mark. As his palm brushed against the fabric, he noticed a sensation entirely different from that of standard military uniforms: it felt soft and form-fitting, yet it effectively regulated body temperature and offered protection against external trauma. Aside from the razor-sharp claws of a zombie, nothing could easily pierce through it.

Before he could strike up a conversation with Mark, the public address system crackled to life.

“Attention all research personnel! Attention all research personnel! Please report to Training Ground No. 3 for assembly within five minutes!”

“That fast?”

“Hurry up and get that combat suit on! If you miss the assembly time, the instructor is going to make you pay for it!”

Mark, whose demeanor had been all smiles just moments before, suddenly dropped his playful grin and urged Xiao Yan to hurry.

Xiao Yan hurriedly pulled on the combat uniform, the fabric clinging to his frame and accentuating his physique.

Mark stroked his chin as he appraised Xiao Yan, then shook his head. “Man, from head to toe, you really don't have a single interesting feature to look at!”

Xiao Yan glanced at his reflection in a nearby mirror and gave an awkward smile. If Mark were a prime cut of steak, then he himself could only be described as a piece of dried-up macaroni.

The two walked briskly down the corridor.

Mark gazed at Xiao Yan’s serious profile and blinked. “Well, look at that—your mindset seems pretty solid, rookie! Most of the researchers looked like they were being sent to their deaths when they heard the news!”

“Rather than waiting for salvation to fall from the sky, it’s better to save ourselves.”

As a technical specialist in the reserves, Xiao Yan had grown weary of his own helplessness in the face of the zombies. Lacking the ability to defend himself meant he would never have the opportunity to step outside the safety of their aircraft and pursue the work he truly desired to do; no matter how brilliant his intellect might be, he would remain nothing more than a burden to others.

Freedom, when divorced from strength, becomes a fragile thing—vulnerable to the slightest blow. Mark clapped Xiao Yan on the shoulder, adopting the air of an older brother treating a younger sibling. "Don't get cocky, rookie! Your physical training regimen isn't going to be easy—not by a long shot! Otherwise, with a build like yours, you wouldn't even be able to take a single punch!"

Xiao Yan remained silent.

No matter what kind of training he underwent, he knew he could never reach the level of Mark and his squad. But at the very least... he still remembered the burning sense of inadequacy he felt when Hein had to carry him back to Base 2. He remembered the sickening *snap* of bones breaking as Jane hit the ground—sacrificing her body to shield him. He even remembered Liv, who had to expose herself to draw enemy fire away from him—nearly costing her her life—and Sharon, whose breathing had ceased forever. He had once resigned himself to his own incompetence; yet, every time Hein’s gaze fell upon him, it served as a reminder. He yearned to get closer—even just a little bit, however minuscule—to the realm inhabited by Hein Burton.

When he followed Mark to the training grounds, he saw over a dozen researchers—all clad in combat uniforms—clustered together, murmuring amongst themselves.

"What on earth is going on? If even *we* have to learn combat techniques and the like, then what do we even need the Special Task Force for?"

"Isn't our job supposed to be research?"

"I'm nearly forty years old! Do they really expect me to go out and fight?"

"Xiao Yan!"

Xiao Yan followed the sound of the shout and spotted Casey.

"Casey!"

As soon as Xiao Yan stepped forward, Casey swept him into a bear hug. The guy was as strong as ever; Xiao Yan felt as though his bones were about to be crushed.

"Easy there... Casey... I can't breathe..."