TIC Chapter 51

 Chapter 51

“I am merely conducting an ‘interrogation’—not a neural interrogation. I understand your reasons for resisting anyone entering your mind, but I, too, have my duties. Even if a devil resides within your brain, I must speak with it.”

“Even if it kills you?” Hein’s tone remained utterly flat.

“Yes, even if it kills me.”

“Then go ahead—try to enter and see.” Hein tapped his temple.

Siti shook his head, smiling with a hint of helplessness. “No one can penetrate the ‘troposphere’ of your mind. Even under deep hypnosis, your brain maintains an extraordinarily high state of alert.”

“Since you cannot enter my mind, you cannot conduct a neural ‘interrogation.’ Therefore, whether I showed up here or not makes absolutely no difference.”

“So, we shall communicate in the most primitive manner, Colonel Burton: a simple Q&A. If I ask a question you do not wish to answer, you are free to remain silent.”

“I may not necessarily give you the truthful answer.”

“You will—because you consider lying beneath you.” Major General Siti gently massaged his temples with his fingertips, his gaze holding a profound depth of meaning. “First question: Do you harbor any doubts regarding the mission Major General Gordon assigned to you and Jane Wallis?”

“None.”

Siti met Hein’s eyes, scrutinizing his expression with meticulous attention. “When faced with a choice between your comrades and the mission—do you prioritize the safety of your fellow soldiers, or completing the mission at any cost?”

“No mission is ever worth the cost of everything.”

For any other special forces soldier, such a statement would be sheer arrogance; yet, coming from the lips of Hein Burton, it left no room for refutation.

“To this day, do you remain utterly fearless?” Siti took a sharp breath. Just as he expected Hein’s answer to be the same as always, however, the man remained silent, offering no reply.

No emotion flickered across the man’s face, yet Siti was seized by a sudden, powerful premonition. “Colonel, give me the answer.”

“Sir, you said I could remain silent.”

“No one can enter your mind; therefore, whatever you choose not to speak of will remain a secret forever. But are you certain you know how to confront the fear within your own heart?”

Hein looked at Major General Hiti. After more than an hour of silence—a silence so profound it left Hiti feeling weary—the man standing before him finally spoke.

“When I saw him lying in a pool of blood, with barely a breath or a heartbeat left in him, I thought I was going to die.”

Hiti blinked. “Him?”

“Since that day, if he isn’t somewhere within my line of sight, I begin to feel afraid.”

Hiti frowned. He knew that, to an ordinary person, what he had just heard would seem like nothing significant; yet, coming from the lips of Hein Burton, it completely overturned everything Hiti thought he knew about the man. He was capable of articulating the deepest, most vital—even secret—aspects of his inner self in a tone of absolute, unruffled calm.

“Colonel, do you clearly understand the root cause of your fear?”

“I fear losing him.”

Had it been anyone else standing before Hiti, they might have felt embarrassed—or even fallen silent—when faced with such a question; but Hein Burton stated his answer with unhesitating directness.

“Colonel, no one is born strong. This fear could become your Achilles' heel. Yet, when a man throws caution to the wind and stakes everything to protect the one thing he holds dear, he becomes stronger than he has ever been in any moment before.”

Hiti raised his gaze as Hein rose to his feet. The man walked with a steady, measured stride toward the door, where he finally came to a halt.

“I believe our conversation has reached its conclusion, Major General. You asked your questions, and I have given you my answers.”

“Yes. Thank you very much for your cooperation.”

Once Hein had left the office, Hiti dragged Hein’s military dossier from his holographic display. He hesitated for a long moment before the “Evaluation” field, but ultimately checked the box marked “Qualified.” With that, the file was sealed.

The physical fitness testing for the researchers had concluded. As Xiao Yan had predicted, he passed the assessment and was now set to advance to the combat training phase. Among the entire group of researchers, only Xiao Yan and two others had successfully cleared the physical test; the training duration for everyone else—including Cathy—was subsequently extended. Although Casey repeatedly complained that the days dragged on like years and submitted reports to his superiors requesting to terminate his training,—unsurprisingly—his requests were denied. The Central Academy of Sciences had firmly resolved to enhance the combat capabilities of its researchers; granting special privileges to anyone was simply out of the question.

Major General Gordon rewarded Xiao Yan and a few others with a one-day leave. For this day, they would be permitted to leave the dreary confines of the building—under the protection of a designated specialist from the Special Task Force—to enjoy some much-needed relaxation in the outside world. Although this "outside world" wasn't truly the *real* outside world in Xiao Yan's eyes—and having a special forces soldier constantly shadowing him made it impossible to feel truly at ease—it was still a welcome change of pace.

Having slept soundly until noon, Xiao Yan rose leisurely and dressed in his usual casual shirt and jeans. Three months of rigorous training had left him significantly leaner and more muscular; both his standing posture and his stride had shed their former languor, taking on an air of crisp, military-like precision.

Stepping out of his room, he spotted Mark—that hulking figure of a man—who winked at him. "Thanks to you, pal, I finally get to step outside headquarters for a change!"

"Mark! It really is you!" Xiao Yan exclaimed joyfully, immediately throwing his arm around Mark's shoulder in a friendly embrace.

"So, where do you want to go?"

"Heh heh... if I'm not mistaken, the baseball match between the Martian Alliance and the Blade Knights starts at two o'clock this afternoon. We should go together..."

"Forget about attending the live game in person. There are too many people there; it would make it too difficult for me to protect you."

"In that case, I'll have to settle for the next best thing: watching the live broadcast at the Bermuda Bar. Plus, we can drink beer! How does that sound?"

"Alright. On behalf of Major General Gordon, I officially approve this proposal."

Mark’s deadpan seriousness amused Xiao Yan.

The Bermuda Bar owed its fame in the district of Shire largely to its holographic display screens—panels rivaling those found in major shopping malls—which made watching live sports broadcasts an absolutely exhilarating experience. Although it wasn't a weekend, the bar was still buzzing with activity when Xiao Yan and Mark walked in.

Mark kept his hands tucked in his pockets as he scanned the surroundings; Xiao Yan knew he was conducting a situational assessment.

"Mark, is it just you protecting me?" Xiao Yan leaned his head toward Mark, shouting the question directly into his ear to be heard over the din. “Hey, kid! Don’t you look down on me! I’m an elite member of the Special Operations Force!”

“Well, I’m truly honored then! To think they’d send an elite to protect *me*!” Xiao Yan scoffed.

Mark scratched his head. “I don’t really know what to say. Earlier today, Wynn mentioned that the Boss would definitely send his most trusted person to protect you. I never expected he’d pick me; I thought for sure it would be Liv.”

“...Why his ‘most trusted person’?”

“Probably... well, anyway, it just means the Boss places a lot of value on you! You’re nothing like those ‘wimpy’ researchers!”

That answer made Xiao Yan burst into laughter; it turned out Mark had a cute side, too. And the “wimpy” ones he referred to, of course, meant Casey.

Five minutes before the game began, the bartender slid large mugs of beer down the counter; everyone caught them with practiced ease. Once the game started, Xiao Yan’s entire attention was completely consumed by the action.

Mark propped his head in his hand, appearing to be just as immersed in the game-day atmosphere, yet in reality, he was constantly reporting his status via the communicator on his wrist.

After a home run, the entire bar erupted in cheers, though some let out sighs of disappointment. Xiao Yan’s eyes were wide with excitement as he downed three large mugs of beer.

The beer sitting in front of Mark, however, remained completely untouched.

The game finally ended, and everyone began chatting amongst themselves about the details of the match.

“Mark, I’m heading to the restroom! I drank way too much beer!”

Without a word, Mark followed right on Xiao Yan’s heels.

“Come on, Mark—could you please stop looking so tense? You’re making me feel like I’m in some kind of grave danger!” Xiao Yan complained helplessly as he relieved himself.

“It’s my duty. If you ask me, you guys shouldn’t have been allowed out for a ‘breath of fresh air’ in the first place! There are way too many people here!”

“Why don’t you just snap my neck right now?” Xiao Yan immediately pulled a long, mournful face.

A stall door swung open, and two youths stepped out; one of them glanced in Xiao Yan’s direction.

Mark shifted his stance, stepping in front of Xiao Yan to shield him.

“Hey, are you this guy’s bodyguard? Do you mind not being such a buzzkill? It totally ruins the mood! This is a restroom, for crying out loud!” one of the youths sneered, jutting out his chin dismissively.

“Finish your business and get out. We’re not in the habit of peeing while someone watches us,” Mark replied, his expression turning grim. “Tough guy, aren't you?” Another boy shoved Mark with his palm; the two of them then walked away sullenly.

Only then did Mark’s taut muscles finally begin to relax.

“I told you, they were just a couple of kids. There was absolutely no need for you to be this tense.”

Xiao Yan felt that Mark was making a mountain out of a molehill.

Just as Mark let out a breath of relief, Xiao Yan suddenly had a realization.

“Actually, this wasn't about letting us researchers come out to relax at all. It was about using us as bait to see if there are any remaining spies from the ‘Surge’ organization still lurking in Char, wasn't it?”

Mark remained silent, offering only a low, muffled sound.

Xiao Yan gritted his teeth. *Damn it! I nearly lost my life last time—and now we’re doing this all over again?*

He glanced at the communicator on Mark’s wrist and voiced his suspicions in a cold tone: “Actually, you aren't the only one keeping an eye on me. Among the guests watching the baseball game earlier, there were a few who weren't really paying attention to the match; instead, they kept scanning their surroundings as if they were on alert for something. Judging by their physiques, I’d wager they’re members of the Special Task Force as well.”

Mark gave a wry twist of his lips. “You really do have a sharp eye for observation.”

At that very moment, a startled cry rang out from the other side of the door—something had happened!

“Don't go out yet!” Mark raised his wrist to contact the special forces operatives embedded within the bar, but he received no response. “Boss! We have a situation! I’m taking Xiao Yan out of the bar via the restroom exit!”

Having said that, Mark turned around to leave. But just as he did, he suddenly faltered, his expression turning grim.

“Mark! Mark, what’s wrong?!”

“I’m fine...” Mark tried to hoist Xiao Yan onto his shoulder, but unexpectedly, his strength suddenly gave out, and he slumped to his knees.

“Mark!”

Xiao Yan stood frozen in shock. Mark had collapsed onto the floor; his face was turning blue, his hands were clawing at his throat, and his pupils were rapidly dilating—all telltale symptoms of asphyxiation.

A sudden thought flashed through Xiao Yan’s mind. He quickly checked the spot where that boy had shoved Mark earlier; special forces operatives possessed powerful regenerative abilities, and sure enough, there wasn't a single visible mark left on his body.

Xiao Yan immediately activated Mark’s communicator. The name displayed on the screen was “Hein.” “Colonel Burton! Is that you?!”

“I’ll be there in thirty seconds. Protect yourself.”

The connection went dead. Mark’s breathing grew increasingly labored, and a look of slow, creeping despair began to surface in his eyes.

“Mark! Hold on! Do you hear me? Colonel Burton is on his way!”

From outside the restroom window came the roar of engines as an aircraft flew in low.

A figure stood poised at the hatchway; his hair whipped wildly in the gale-force wind as he took a long stride, landing firmly right in front of the window.

“Hein…”

Hein’s face remained utterly expressionless. The Special Task Force had already cordoned off the bar; three operatives—who had been mingling among the patrons—had collapsed after being struck by a specialized type of projectile, triggering a chaotic stampede within the establishment. All three were now exhibiting the exact same symptoms as Mark.

Hein rushed to Mark’s side, hoisted him effortlessly onto his shoulder, and cast a sidelong glance at Xiao Yan. “Let’s go!”

The very next instant, Hein’s arm swept around Xiao Yan, scooping him up, and he leaped out through the window opening.

Before Xiao Yan could even let out a cry of alarm, they had landed safely inside the aircraft’s cabin. The craft immediately took flight, speeding toward the Military Medical Center.

Medical personnel swarmed around Mark, administering emergency aid; the entire scene felt so tense it bordered on the surreal.

Outside the doors of the emergency room, Wynn and Liv arrived in a rush.

“How is Mark’s condition?”

“Is it the same kind of attack that hit Jane Wallis’s unit?”

“Yes.” Hein closed his eyes.

“Oh… God…” Wynn buried his face in his hands.

This meant that the Special Task Force was no longer invincible.

Of the three other operatives who had been rushed into the emergency room alongside Mark, all three had already suffocated to death.

Wynn clenched his fists tight. “Those bastards! They really *are* still in Shire!”

Liv bit down hard on her lip, her knuckles cracking audibly as she clenched her own fists. “I can’t just sit here! The Reconnaissance Division has already pulled up the records for everyone who was in that bar! There’s bound to be ‘Tide’ operatives hiding among them! I’m going to go hunt those lunatics down myself!”

Liv spun around and strode away briskly.

Hein’s expression remained grim and austere; he leaned against the wall, his gaze cast slightly downward.

The doctor in charge of Mark’s resuscitation emerged from the emergency room to deliver the grim news: for now, they could only rely on medical machinery to pump synthetic oxygen directly into Mark’s bloodstream. However, his body’s inability to generate oxygen would inevitably lead to systemic failure; the ultimate outcome remained death.

“How much time does he have left? Tell those researchers to find a way to save him! Aren’t they always whining about how the physical training is a waste of time—insisting they should be spending every moment on research instead?”

“He has no more than three hours remaining. As time runs out, his body will lose even the ability to absorb synthesized oxygen.”

At the doctor’s words, Wynn slammed his fist against the wall in frustration.

A notification—a text message from the Central Academy of Sciences—buzzed on Hein’s communicator.

Wynn immediately stepped forward. “What do they say? Have they finally developed an antidote?”

“No.”

Hein’s answer was utterly devoid of hope.

Wynn tapped open the message; the man who usually wore a lazy, perpetual smile suddenly erupted in rage. “They’re *still* just studying how the toxin interacts with the X-virus! Even Xiao Yan knows the answer to that!”

At that moment, Hein furrowed his brows and turned his gaze toward Xiao Yan. “You already know?”

“It’s just a hypothesis of mine…”

Hein advanced toward Xiao Yan, step by step; the sheer weight of his imposing presence made Xiao Yan instinctively take a step back.

“Where are your research results?”

“I… I synthesized a specific enzyme—a decomposer. It’s capable of breaking down the toxin, but it hasn’t been tested on a human subject yet!”

Wynn froze, his eyes widening as he stared at Xiao Yan. “Is that enzyme—that decomposer—still in your lab?”

“Yes… You guys aren’t actually thinking of…”

“Mark has less than three hours left. We have to take the risk.”

Hein grabbed Xiao Yan by the wrist and began pulling him along at a brisk pace.

Xiao Yan dug in his heels, halting their progress. “Wait.”

Wynn grew agitated. “Xiao Yan, I know what you’re worried about! Even if the enzyme you synthesized doesn’t end up saving Mark, he won’t hold it against you!”

“I am a researcher; I have the courage to face the consequences of my work. But there are still three hours left—that’s enough time to do a great deal! I need a fresh blood sample from Mark—right now!”

Wynn stood stunned for a moment, while Hein immediately contacted the medical staff. “How much blood do you need?”

“Five milliliters should be sufficient.”

Five minutes later, Xiao Yan rushed back to his laboratory, Mark’s blood sample in hand. He accessed the central terminal, linking up and activating the three main supercomputers within the lab; he knew, with absolute certainty, that he was now racing against time. The degrading enzyme had been synthesized; now, he needed to devise a suitable delivery method to transport it directly to the target virus.

At this moment, Major General Gordon sat at his desk, pressing a hand against his forehead; the secretary standing before him wore an equally grim expression.

"What is going on? Are those fools at the Central Academy of Sciences completely useless? We handed the toxin samples over to them days ago—are you telling me they still haven't managed to synthesize an antidote?"

"..."

"Where is Lieutenant Colonel Casey?"

"He has already immersed himself in the research."

"But regardless... for the men currently lying in the hospital, it’s already too late... isn't it?"

Major General Gordon let out a heavy sigh.

"Now, only Second Lieutenant Xiao Yan remains; his exposure to the toxin was relatively low, yet the hospital reports that his prognosis is far from optimistic... Wait! General—the lab is sounding an alarm! An external terminal is attempting a high-speed connection!"

"Who is it? Is the 'Surge' organization trying to sabotage Lieutenant Colonel Casey's research?"

"No... no, it's not that... The party on the other end is requesting terminal access!"

"Who is it? Is it Casey?"

"No... ID 1665! It's Xiao Yan!"

"Are the three mainframes in his own lab not sufficient?"

Major General Gordon wore an expression of impatience.

“Well... those three main computers are currently running at full capacity! Colonel Burton has sent a message requesting your immediate approval of Xiao Yan’s application!”

“Hein Burton?” Major General Gordon couldn't help but be astonished.

“Yes, Major General.”

“Approved!”

In that moment, Xiao Yan’s concentration was absolute; the entire laboratory was submerged in a surging ocean of constantly flashing and shifting data.

Using Mark’s blood sample, Xiao Yan successfully synthesized the serum.

The instant he disconnected from the terminal, he slumped back into his chair and lost consciousness.

It was the deepest sleep he had experienced in his entire life.

When he awoke, Xiao Yan found himself lying in the bed inside his room.

He turned slightly to the side and saw Hein sitting upright in a chair beside the bed.

“Did... did I fall asleep?”

Xiao Yan sprang up from the bed, though the lingering sense of drowsiness had not yet fully dissipated.

“Yes.”

Hein reached out and adjusted the pillow beneath his head.

“Where’s Mark? How is Mark doing?”

“He’ll come to see you this afternoon.”

“Mark... he’s going to be okay?” Xiao Yan let out a relieved breath.

“Yes, Mark is out of danger. The decomposition enzyme you developed earlier was sent to the Central Academy of Sciences; they used it to manufacture an antidote, and now every Special Forces soldier has received the injection.”

“It really was the enzyme *I* developed?”

“Yes.”

Hein’s fingers brushed against Xiao Yan’s brow ridge, massaging it gently. Closing his eyes to savor the pressure of those fingertips, Xiao Yan felt the tension drain away, and the drowsiness began to creep back in.

“Go back to sleep.”

“Okay.”

Hein slowly lowered his head, tilting his face at a tender angle as his lips met Xiao Yan’s.

He closed his eyes and lingered there, as if absorbing the warmth and very essence of Xiao Yan.

When he closed the door behind him, he was met by the stern, serious face of Wynn. “The application to upgrade Xiao Yan’s security clearance has been approved. Major General Gordon—along with the Central Academy of Sciences—has mandated that everything remain strictly confidential.”

“I fear keeping it confidential will be a tall order.” Hein’s expression was chilling to the bone. “Very soon... he will become the *sole* target of the Swarm.”

Liv had been relentlessly hunting down the two teenagers Xiao Yan had encountered in the bar restroom that day. Yet, the pair seemed to have vanished into thin air.

While Liv and Mark were discussing this matter in the corridor, Xiao Yan was on his way to begin his combat training.

“Hey! Xiao Yan!” Mark threw his arms around Xiao Yan in a bear hug. “I bet I scared the living daylights out of you that day, didn't I? Look! I’m still alive!”

The guy was as brimming with brute strength as ever; seeing this, Xiao Yan finally breathed a sigh of relief.

“Those guys over at the Central Academy of Sciences aren't entirely useless after all! I heard they managed to develop an antidote in under three hours! I’ve actually started to admire them!”

“The Central Academy of Sciences?” Xiao Yan paused. Although he himself was a researcher at the Academy, still...

Not far away, Wynn smiled and made a “hushing” gesture toward Xiao Yan.

Xiao Yan instantly understood. This was the military’s way of protecting him: by attributing the glory of successfully developing the decomposition enzyme to the entire Central Academy of Sciences, rather than to Xiao Yan as an individual.

“Starting today, I am your combat instructor. Just because I happen to think you’re a decent kid, don't expect me to go easy on you!” Wynn draped an arm around Xiao Yan’s shoulders and ushered him into the training room.

“What? *You*?”

“What kind of look is that? Do you think a Major like me isn't qualified to teach you?” Wynn harrumphed.

“It’s just that... I feel like having you teach me would be a complete waste of your time!”

Wynn wouldn't tell Xiao Yan that the military command had already issued him a direct order: he *must* ensure that, after three months of combat training, Xiao Yan possessed a certain level of combat proficiency—specifically, the ability to defend himself against at least two or three zombies simultaneously. If Wynn failed to achieve this, he would face demotion.

Standing face-to-face with Wynn, Xiao Yan swallowed hard as he took in the officer’s utterly serious expression.