TIC Chapter 67

Chapter 67

Mark couldn't tell if he was merely imagining things, but he had a persistent feeling that, starting today, Xiao Yan was somehow different from before—colder, certainly, and possessed of a newfound commanding presence. Even the way he issued orders to Mark now seemed to carry an air of absolute entitlement.

"Mark, I need to collect two milliliters of your blood."

"Huh? What?" Before Mark could even fully process the request, a faint, electric-like sensation shot through his arm; his blood sample had already been extracted.

"Mark, go get me a cup of coffee—water temperature, sixty degrees."

"Mark, I need to collect a small sample of your saliva."

Mark cast a glance at his boss, who remained seated perfectly still in his spot, not having moved an inch. Resigned to his fate, Mark walked over to the medical equipment and opened his mouth.

Even during lunch in the cafeteria, Xiao Yan remained lost in thought, merely poking at the food on his tray with a fork, his mind still unable to disengage from his work.

Mark looked at Xiao Yan's tray; the food had been reduced to a thoroughly unappetizing mess.

It wasn't until Hein arrived and took the seat opposite him—the very moment their fingertips brushed—that Xiao Yan seemed to snap out of his trance as if jolted by an electric shock, finally lifting his head.

"Eat your lunch."

"Ah... oh..."

With Hein sitting directly across from him, Xiao Yan kept his head bowed under the weight of the other man's intense gaze. He stuffed the food into his mouth, though in truth, he couldn't taste a single thing.

"I need to collect another blood sample from you."

Xiao Yan kept his head lowered.

"Mm."

"You’ve been exposed to the X-virus for nearly eight years, whereas Mark has been exposed for five. I need to compare the activity levels of the X-virus in your respective bloodstreams, as well as..."

"I don't need to know the reasons. Whatever you want is enough."

Xiao Yan gave a wry tug at the corners of his mouth. *Good grief...* What kind of phrasing was "Whatever you want is enough"? Shouldn't it be "Whatever the research requires"?

If Hein Burton kept speaking to him like this, his brain was surely going to short-circuit.

Throughout the entire month that followed, Xiao Yan remained completely immersed in his research.

He made numerous discoveries—for instance, he found that as time passed, the activity level of the X-virus within the human body gradually increased. Once that activity surpassed the body's physiological limits, the host's bodily functions would rapidly shut down, and the virus would proceed to consume them entirely. It was abundantly clear that the X-virus in Hein’s blood sample was far more active than that in Mark’s—indeed, it far exceeded the metabolic cycle typical of ordinary special forces operatives. Maya’s fears were well-founded: Hein’s body would struggle to hold out for even six months, let alone two years.

While Hein’s physical strength and speed had surpassed those of ordinary humans to an even greater degree, the price he paid for this power was terrifying.

Previous researchers had focused their efforts on trying to suppress the virus’s activity; however, high activity was an intrinsic characteristic of this particular virus. Suppressing its activity inevitably diminished the host’s physical capabilities, rendering them unfit to meet the rigorous operational demands of special forces combat.

Moreover, the virus had already fully integrated with its host, altering portions of the host’s genetic code.

What was needed was a complete paradigm shift in how the virus generated energy. Researchers had long attempted to isolate and extract the functional components from its genetic chain; perhaps, instead, they should take the opposite approach—viewing it as a *defective* virus that required the *addition* of specific elements to transform it into a truly perfect organism.

Hein’s training to bolster Xiao Yan’s mental resistance was far from over; the sessions were scheduled for the period between dinner and bedtime.

Before the training began, Xiao Yan swallowed hard. Hein sat down opposite him, back ramrod straight and palms resting on his knees—assuming the textbook posture of a military man.

“Right now, a question is lingering in your mind—one for which you remain unconvinced by the explanation I’ve given you.”

Hein’s directness caught Xiao Yan completely off guard.

“So, I’m giving you the opportunity to find the answer for yourself.”

Xiao Yan tensed up instinctively, clenching his fists. Was he about to enter Hein’s mind once again?

“I will enter your mind in the role of a ‘Blocker.’ Try to trap me.”

“What?” Xiao Yan was dumbfounded. The last time he had attempted to trap a Blocker, the result was that he had trapped *himself* within his own subconscious—leaving him comatose for several days! “Try analyzing my thoughts within your own mind; for in that realm, my thoughts are far more fragile than they are within my own head. Rather than attempting to infiltrate my mind, you will find the answers you seek much more easily there.”

“I... I have no idea how to do that! All I know how to do is construct a framework—building it up while the other person constantly tears it down, only for me to repair it again... It’s completely useless.”

“That is no excuse to trap yourself.”

“Then what *is* the reason?”

Xiao Yan stared intently at the other man. That past incident had become Mark’s favorite subject for mockery; indeed, ever since then, Xiao Yan had been branded a “clumsy rookie.”

“It is because your mental strata are too shallow that you resort to tapping into your subconscious. Thought is not a physical substance; it can run infinitely deep.”

Xiao Yan gave a wry smile; yet another abstract explanation.

“Imagine yourself adrift in the cosmos, far beyond the solar system—surrounded by absolute darkness, illuminated only by the faint glow of distant stars. How would you orient yourself?”

“...Direction holds no meaning there.”

Xiao Yan felt as though he grasped something, yet he didn't quite fully understand it.

“Connect to the terminal, Lieutenant.”

Xiao Yan’s heart began to pound furiously. As he raised his neural connector, the words tumbled out before he could stop them: “Will you... will you do *that* again?”

“If by ‘that,’ you mean entering *you*—then, of course I will.”

That answer caught him completely off guard, yet Hein had already entered the terminal.

*Damn it!* Xiao Yan could only curse inwardly.

In an instant, he felt Hein’s consciousness—moving at a speed he could never hope to match—pierce through the outer boundaries of his mind and plunge ever deeper within.

At this rate, Hein would soon breach the threshold of Xiao Yan’s subconscious.

*How do I capture him?*

*Do not attempt to construct any concrete objects; in the realm of thought, such actions are fraught with peril.*

*Imagine yourself adrift in the cosmos—surrounded by boundless, infinite space where any concept of direction loses all meaning.*

In that very instant, Hein plunged into a void—a realm of absolute nothingness, save for a few scattered specks of light.

Xiao Yan made no attempt to constrict his mental space; he knew that the vaster he made it, the less likely it was that his quarry could escape. No matter which direction Hein chose to flee, Xiao Yan’s own consciousness could extend infinitely to encompass him. “Now, learn to analyze. When most Blockers infiltrate, their minds function as a unified whole; that is the prime opportunity for you to interpret their thoughts.”

The moment Xiao Yan attempted to read Hein’s mind, the latter’s mental construct instantly shattered—like a disintegrating celestial body—scattering throughout Xiao Yan’s own consciousness.

This was a scenario Xiao Yan had never anticipated. He could only frantically extend his own mental reach to encompass Hein; those fragmented shards of thought were mere scraps of countless memories and musings—too disjointed to form a coherent narrative, even if he managed to interpret them.

Yet, amidst those fragments, Xiao Yan caught glimpses of himself.

He saw himself, for instance, crouching down to pick up a fallen leaf and holding it to his nose, surrounded by the mangled remains of countless zombies while the hurried footsteps of evacuating cadets echoed nearby.

That was the day he first met Hein. He had assumed that the man’s eyes were utterly vacant—that he hadn't even noticed Xiao Yan’s presence. Yet, within these scattered fragments of memory, that very moment was captured with startling clarity.

Or he saw himself lying in bed in a deep slumber—his tousled hair, his lowered eyelashes, all meticulously traced by Hein’s gaze; even the rhythm of his breathing seemed to be delicately outlined by the other man’s perception.

How could he possibly believe that Hein Burton had once watched him with such tender, painstaking care?

But what struck Xiao Yan as the most unfathomable was the image of himself lying in the cafeteria, drenched in blood. Xiao Yan felt a sudden, searing pang—a sensation of suffocation, as if his very vision were shattering. Panic surged like a tidal wave, his rationality vanished completely, and an overwhelming, uncontrollable despair engulfed him.

So *this* was what Hein had felt that day.

A possessiveness so intense it seemed to yearn to crush him into dust and embed him within his very bones and blood—that was why Hein could not bear the thought of his death.

His heart pounded; his thoughts spun wildly, spiraling out of control.

As his efforts to extend his mental reach failed to keep pace with the rapid scattering of Hein’s mental fragments, Hein’s consciousness drew perilously close to breaching Xiao Yan’s subconscious.

A jolt of alarm shot through him: he had failed!

Sensing the moment was right to withdraw, Hein retreated from Xiao Yan’s mind, severing the connection.

Disheveled and shaken, Xiao Yan fumbled to remove the neural interface terminal. He hung his head, gasping for breath, as beads of sweat trickled down his temples. “How do you think you performed?”

Hein’s cool voice rang out, and every pore on Xiao Yan’s body seemed to tremble slightly.

“...Terribly?”

“What did you see in me?”

“That time... I nearly died.” Xiao Yan didn’t elaborate further; the emotional impact of that moment had been simply too profound. He had always assumed Hein was utterly fearless—unafraid of anything—yet to witness him in such a shaken state... it was truly staggering.

“If I had arrived a second later... if I hadn’t walked into that restaurant... if I hadn’t been the one assigned to that mission... you might very well be dead right now.”

“I’ve imagined that scenario many times myself,” Xiao Yan gave a helpless smile, though deep within his heart, an overwhelming urge to pull this man close and hold him tight began to surge.

“Beyond what you *saw*, report whether you were able to interpret my emotional state at the time.”

Xiao Yan looked up. He wasn’t sure if he should voice his thoughts aloud, but Hein’s eyes remained utterly calm—almost disarmingly serene.

“You were terrified.”

“Report whether you were able to interpret the *cause* of that fear.”

“...You were afraid that I would die.”

Xiao Yan swallowed hard, his heart seizing up in his chest as if it had momentarily forgotten how to beat.

“With this lesson, you have graduated.”

Hein rose to his feet; looking up, Xiao Yan could see nothing but the exquisite, sharp contours of his chin.

“Second Lieutenant, remember what you have learned today.”

“Yes, Colonel.”

“The mind can transform a hellscape into a paradise... just as it can twist a paradise into a living hell.”

Hein’s eyelids lowered—an expression almost mechanical in its precision, yet one from which Xiao Yan found it impossible to tear his gaze away. In that moment, Xiao Yan knew with absolute certainty that he placed his complete faith in this man—as instinctively and unconditionally as his body obeyed the rhythm of his own breath.

Hein had declared him graduated; did that mean his interpretation of Hein’s memories had been correct?

And did that, in turn, signify that Hein had truly—at some point—feared for his life?

As they walked back to their quarters, the silence between them remained unnervingly profound.

Yet, in that instant, a desire to explore the depths of the man beside him began to swell uncontrollably within Xiao Yan’s heart. Hein’s retreating figure seemed to him like a black hole—a gravitational force pulling his entire being inexorably toward it.

Upon reaching the door to Xiao Yan’s room, Hein used his fingerprint to unlock it, preparing to step inside for his routine inspection—but just as he was about to enter, Xiao Yan called out, stopping him in his tracks. “Hein!”

The instant Hein turned around, Xiao Yan braced himself against the doorframe and leaned in for a kiss—though, unfortunately, his lips made contact only with Hein’s chin. Yet, Hein’s arm snaked around Xiao Yan’s body, pressing against his back as he swiftly pulled him inside the room.

The moment the sliding door sealed shut, Hein kissed Xiao Yan’s cheek with force, then—in a gesture of playful punishment—nipped at his neck.

“You shouldn’t have done that; there are surveillance cameras in the hallway.”

Xiao Yan, however, boldly pushed against Hein, forcing him to retreat step by step until Hein finally sank onto the sofa. Xiao Yan braced his hands on either side of Hein’s head; but with just a slight exertion of pressure on Xiao Yan’s waist, Hein caused him to lose his balance and tumble forward. Xiao Yan never imagined that Hein would then abruptly hoist up his legs, positioning him to sit directly astride his lap. With Xiao Yan’s legs now locked securely around his waist, Hein’s kisses grew increasingly intense and overwhelming—teetering on the brink of losing control, yet always reining himself in at the very last second.

“Next time, don’t tease me like that. You wouldn’t be able to handle the consequences.”

Hein planted soft, lingering kisses upon Xiao Yan’s lips; though his words were clearly meant as a warning, to Xiao Yan’s ears, they carried absolutely no weight.

In the realm of their shared consciousness, this man could do whatever he pleased—even inflicting pain upon Xiao Yan without hesitation. Yet, in reality, he exercised an iron grip of self-restraint, never once causing him any physical harm.

This realization filled Xiao Yan with a sense of smug triumph.

Resting his head against Hein’s shoulder, Xiao Yan whispered, “I’ll take care of everything.”

Meanwhile, just outside Xiao Yan’s door, a man stood with his arms crossed, staring intently at the tightly sealed sliding door—his eyes harboring a brewing chill.

The following day, after finishing lunch, Xiao Yan—true to form—spent the walk back to the research lab teasing Cathy. “Casey, even though your combat training has been put on hold, those muscles on you are the real deal!”

Casey raised an eyebrow; he knew perfectly well that this guy, Xiao Yan, wasn’t actually paying him a compliment. “What kind of death-wish nonsense are you about to spout this time?”

“Haha... Casey, congratulations! Now, even if you were to put on a tutu, you wouldn’t look like Barbie anymore! You’ve finally joined the ranks of the muscle-bound men!”

Xiao Yan still remembered that photo of Casey from his kindergarten days—wearing a tutu and beaming like a sunflower. Although Casey had deleted it, Xiao Yan had mischievously dug it out of the system memory and even set it as the theme for his personal terminal. Whenever Casey achieved some breakthrough in his research or received a promotion in rank, Xiao Yan would delight in using that photo to tease him.

“Xiao Yan—if you dare mention that tutu one more time, I’ll kill you!” Sure enough, Casey flew into a rage, waving his fists as he chased after Xiao Yan.

After a period of training, both men’s physical stamina had improved significantly—so much so that Xiao Yan was now able to effortlessly put distance between himself and Casey. The special forces soldiers trailing Xiao Yan were forced to match his pace, unwittingly dragged into this utterly childish game of chase.

It wasn’t until Xiao Yan accidentally bumped shoulders with someone that he snapped out of his smug reverie.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve crashed into me while goofing around with Lieutenant Colonel Casey.”

Those narrow eyes, glinting with amusement, caused Xiao Yan to lose his focus for a split second; his thoughts plummeted from their lofty heights, finally crashing back down to reality.

“Jane!”

The corners of Jane’s lips curled slowly upward, his expression exuding a certain suave elegance as his gaze drifted languidly over Xiao Yan’s face.

“It’s been a long time. Should you give me a passionate kiss, or perhaps just a hug?”

“Let’s stick with the hug.”

Xiao Yan reached out to pat the other man on the shoulder, but to his surprise, Jane’s hands cupped his thighs, and with a single motion, he hoisted Xiao Yan right off the ground.

The instant his feet left the floor, Xiao Yan instinctively tightened his grip around Jane’s neck. “Hey! Lieutenant Colonel Wallis!” Casey shouted as he came running up, his face displaying the same hostility toward Jane Wallis as always. “Let go of Xiao Yan—right now!”

Xiao Yan was just about to speak to Casey when Jane gave a little bounce, shifting the weight of the man in his arms. He smiled and said, “When I’m holding you like this, I really don’t appreciate you looking at other people.”

Jane deliberately leaned in as if to kiss Xiao Yan, prompting Xiao Yan to quickly snap his head back to face forward.

Chuckling softly, Jane turned to the two special forces soldiers guarding Casey. “Please escort Lieutenant Colonel Casey out. That is an order.”

The two soldiers exchanged glances for less than a second before moving to flank the struggling Casey, each grabbing an arm. Casey’s furious protests echoed down the corridor.

“Listen here—if you don’t let go of me right now, I guarantee you’re going to regret it,” Xiao Yan said, his expression turning serious.

“Oh, really? Just how long can your X-2 last before it gets metabolized? That way, I can gauge whether you actually have the leverage to make me regret anything.”

Xiao Yan curled the corners of his lips into a smirk. “It’s already...”

“Second Lieutenant Xiao Yan, you are strictly forbidden from disclosing any research progress, data, conceptual frameworks, or any other related information to anyone.”

A cold voice, an imperious tone—Xiao Yan turned his head and, sure enough, met Hein’s dark, brooding gaze.

Jane released Xiao Yan, then crossed his arms and stepped up to Hein, lightly tapping a finger against the other man’s chest.

“Colonel Burton, you really ought to rein in that possessiveness of yours. Losing control like this just isn’t like you.”

Xiao Yan’s heart gave a sudden lurch. Had Jane figured something out? Then again, a word like “possessiveness” did seem perfectly suited to Jane Wallis—a man who had never known the meaning of boundaries.

“If you have any issues, you may report them directly to Major General Gordon.”

Hein acted as if Jane’s words hadn’t registered at all; he turned and walked away without sparing another glance.

Xiao Yan could only scramble to catch up.

As they brushed past each other, Jane suddenly reached out and grabbed Xiao Yan.

“It must get pretty boring, staying cooped up in the lab all the time.”

Jane simply gave a playful wink with his left eye—and for a split second, Xiao Yan’s heart skipped a beat. This guy was keenly aware of his naturally gifted good looks—and he exploited that advantage to the absolute limit.

“It’s fine.” Xiao Yan glanced in Hein’s direction; the man had already drifted far ahead, showing no sign whatsoever of slowing his pace—yet Xiao Yan could faintly sense Hein’s displeasure.

“Tomorrow…” Jian abruptly yanked Xiao Yan toward him, his lips brushing so close they nearly grazed the curve of Xiao Yan’s ear. A warm breath swirled between them, carrying a certain unspoken insinuation that coursed right through Xiao Yan’s bloodstream.

It surged deep into his mind.

Subconsciously, he wanted to pull away from the man’s immediate vicinity, but the latter’s strength was clearly on a completely different level than his own.

“Care to train with me?”

“Huh?”

Xiao Yan was long accustomed to this guy’s lack of propriety; he had expected him to spout yet another cringe-inducing remark. To his surprise, was that really all he had to say?

“What kind of look is that? Are you disappointed?” Jan pressed his palm against Xiao Yan’s forehead. “Besides, given your current situation—aside from your research—improving your combat capabilities is pretty important, wouldn't you agree? Anything Hein Burton can teach you, I can teach you too.”

Xiao Yan had certainly witnessed Jan’s fighting prowess before. Unlike Hein’s precise and crisp style, this guy was far more fluid and unpredictable.

“Of course I’m not disappointed!”

Xiao Yan was already beginning to visualize how he might collect data on Jan’s movements to upgrade his own simulation system. Of course, the most important objective of all was for Xiao Yan to obtain a blood sample from Jan!

“You *should* look disappointed—as if you’d much rather be rolling around in bed with me instead. I guarantee you: once you’ve been with me, you’ll find that no one else can ever give you that kind of pleasure again.”

Xiao Yan had grown somewhat accustomed to this guy’s manner of speaking by now; his brain simply filtered it out automatically.

“Hey, let’s talk tomorrow.”

Xiao Yan lowered his gaze to look at Jan’s hands; the other man deliberately put on a look of disappointment as he finally let go. Xiao Yan had to admit: Jan’s exquisite features, paired with that utterly harmless expression, really did have a way of tugging at one’s heartstrings. Yet, deep down, Xiao Yan knew exactly just how formidable this man truly was.

The two men parted ways, heading in opposite directions.

Xiao Yan quickened his pace to catch up with Hein. Meanwhile, Jan—having turned his back—let his casual smile slowly fade away, giving way to an expression of chilling coldness.

At this hour, there were scarcely any officers walking through the corridors; the entire space felt vast and hollow. Unable to spot Hein anywhere, Xiao Yan had no choice but to pick up his pace.

The very instant he stepped through the junction, a pair of hands suddenly clamped down on his shoulders, slamming him back against the cold metal wall.

Every cell in his body instantly went on high alert; he threw a punch, only to have it effortlessly caught in his assailant’s grip.

His gaze locked with a pair of azure eyes—an ocean that appeared calm on the surface, yet seethed with turbulent undercurrents beneath. Xiao Yan was astonished to discover that the person pinning him down was none other than Hein! “Colonel Burton!”

Xiao Yan’s eyes widened in shock; what on earth was happening?

“He wasn’t wrong.”

“Wasn’t wrong about what?”

Xiao Yan was utterly bewildered, his expression twisting in pain. If Hein didn’t set him down soon, his spine would snap, and his shoulder would be dislocated.

“I’m fast losing the ability to conceal my possessiveness toward you.”

Xiao Yan parted his lips slightly, still struggling to decipher the meaning behind those words.

What had Hein Burton just said? What “possessiveness”?

“So, Lieutenant, let me tell you this straight: under no circumstances are you to be attracted to Jane Wallis.”

His expression and cadence remained utterly unchanged, yet the demand he placed upon Xiao Yan felt so jarringly out of place that it was as if they had suddenly stepped into a different dimension!

A gaze heavy with oppressive intensity bore down upon Xiao Yan’s heart, as if forcing him to confront—and answer—a series of questions he had never dared to contemplate.

“He kissed you.”

Hein’s voice was a blade of ice, freezing Xiao Yan’s very nerves.

“The X-Virus makes you addictive.”

“…That’s just Lieutenant Colonel Wallis’s usual style… I didn’t take it to heart,” Xiao Yan managed to stammer out, having finally regained a shred of composure.

“If he could seduce you so easily, then what was the point of my restraint?”

In that instant, the dust of time seemed to flow in reverse; Xiao Yan’s vision fractured into disjointed fragments, dissolving completely within the depths of the other man’s ink-blue eyes.

His breathing was tentative and cautious; yet, the moment it brushed against Hein’s steady, even breaths, it was—inevitably—shattered and scattered like dust.

A sound—like something bursting apart—rang in his ears.

The other man claimed Xiao Yan’s lips; Xiao Yan had no time to even register how it had happened. A wild, surging tide of desire coursed through his veins, roaring through his blood. Xiao Yan instinctively clung to the man holding him—not out of fear of falling, but out of a terrifying fear that this moment of madness might vanish in an instant.

His legs were drawn up and folded against him; the kiss was so fierce, so forceful, that it felt as though it might crush Xiao Yan’s skull against the wall behind him.

He no longer registered the tight-knit intensity of the man’s eyes, nor the touch of those hands digging deep into his flesh; he was utterly lost to himself, submerged in a craving he could no longer control. Hein abruptly swept him up in his arms and walked, step by step, toward his room.

His back sank into the soft mattress—a sensation that, paradoxically, left him feeling utterly hollow; it was the man pressing down upon him who felt like the only true reality.

The other man’s palm pressed against his forehead, forcing his chin upward to bear the full weight of the force applied.

Even though his combat suit was designed to insulate against all temperature fluctuations, Xiao Yan felt a scorching heat unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

When the other man pulled back ever so slightly, Xiao Yan chased after his kiss, as if his very life depended on it.