Anomalies

Between the village and the forest lay an open expanse of ground. Where the grass had been trampled underfoot time and again, a path had formed, exposing pale sand and gravel that gleamed beneath the eleven o'clock morning sun. Gravel kicked up against the tips of his boots—as it always did when a man moved with labored, heavy strides. Han Qingyu walked slowly, dragging his captive along. The wounds that had torn open again on his body bled continuously, dripping onto the white gravel all along the way. From a distance, people watched him, a realization dawning clearer and clearer in their minds: *That wounded soldier before our eyes just went alone into a gathering of more than a thousand enemies. And now he’s coming back.* Most of the Azure soldiers and officers standing at the village entrance had no idea that the man walking toward them was Major The Qing. After all, the few photos of Han Qingyu that had been published in the internal papers had never shown his face clearly, and now a terrifying wound marred his features. A small fraction of them harbored suspicions because they had seen Shen Yixiu appear earlier. Even so, none dared be certain; while full-armor soldiers were rare, every army and regiment still had a few. Furthermore, quite a few subjectively believed that Major The Qing was already dead. So to them, Han Qingyu was merely an Azure comrade—gravely wounded, someone who ought to have been quite handsome, but whose face was now disfigured by a horrific gash. "What did he go do? Why did he go?" "They say he went to capture a doctor. One of his teammates was critically wounded and has been unconscious the whole time, and the field medics said there was nothing more they could do." "Ah." The low murmurs among the crowd subsided into silence. Wen Jifei pulled Rusty Sister up onto a rooftop. Holding a massive bowl, Zhang Chiyuan stood behind his soldiers. He picked out a broken piece of roof tile with his chopsticks, then grabbed a mouthful of noodles, shoved them into his mouth, and mumbled, "Say, should we take this chance to stir up some trouble?" "Huh? Stir up what?" his adjutant asked, bewildered. "Drive a wedge between them and the Ninth Army, of course! I was thinking of telling him I just got in touch with Lu Wuzheng, but Lu hung up, saying they don't have these people on their roster. What do you think? That way, when they finally return one day, they might be mine." The adjutant: "...Commander!" The scene remained largely quiet. The only corner with an intense reaction was where several figures in white lab coats were huddled together—young and old alike, hands flailing in a panic, their brows furrowed so tightly they looked distorted, as if they had just witnessed something utterly unwatchable and terrifying beyond belief. "Is that really Doctor Zhe? It is her, isn't it?!" The elderly head of the medical team took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, put them back on, and stared with all his might. "Yeah. He really went and invi... captured her back." To call it an "invitation" now was far too self-deceiving; after all, she was trussed up and being hauled along like cargo. The young doctor had always idolized Zhe Qiuhong, and his feelings were thoroughly conflicted right now. They didn't mind that the guy had gone to capture someone; in fact, they even felt a measure of admiration. He had gone for his teammate, after all, while riddled with severe injuries himself. However... "Th-this really isn't proper... *Aiya!*" The old team leader suddenly cried out as if he had taken a spill himself—except he wasn't the one who had fallen. Over there, Han Qingyu's grip had failed him, and without noticing in time, he dropped Zhe Qiuhong onto the ground. She hit the earth stiff as a board. Fortunately, it was on her back. The medical team: "..." "Sorry about that. Honestly, you're a bit heavy," Han Qingyu apologized as he bent over. But when he looked down, Zhe Qiuhong was lying on the ground neither crying out in pain nor saying a word, merely glaring straight up at him with eyes brimming with hostility and rage. He was already in a foul mood after having to let Zhe Chunhua go, and suddenly catching this glare made his temper flare as well. Not in a position to lash out directly, he decided out of sight was out of mind... Panic broke out among the medical team: "What is he doing?!" Before their eyes, Han Qingyu extended a boot against her and gave a slight shove, rolling Zhe Qiuhong over onto her stomach, face down. Then he bent over, hoisted her back up, and continued walking forward. The medical team: "..." With great difficulty, he finally stepped over the low earthen wall. Handing Zhe Qiuhong over to Rusty Sister, Han Qingyu said, "Remember what you promised. If you can't save him, I'll kill you." The medical team, who had just rushed over: "..." The ropes were finally untied. When Zhe Qiuhong stood up, there were several smudges of dirt across her face; she wiped them with her sleeve, only to smear grime all over her cheeks. Reaching up, she plucked a few blades of grass from her hair, then rubbed her wrists against each other. The circle around her chimed in: "Doctor Zhe." "Teacher Zhe, you gave us lectures before." "..." Hurriedly brushing back a lock of hair, Zhe Qiuhong turned, bowed slightly, and said, "Hello, everyone. Um, you'd better take me to see the patient first... No need to look at him, he's fine." As she spoke, Han Qingyu slowly collapsed. "He's... fine. No rush to treat him," Zhe Qiuhong said flatly. ... Han Qingyu woke to the stinging burn of alcohol on his wounds and opened his eyes. Zhe Qiuhong, who had already put on a fresh white lab coat, was wearing a mask. Only her eyes—always direct, or rather, brutally blunt—were exposed as she tended to his injuries. Rusty Sister and Plague Chicken stood nearby. "How long was I out?" Han Qingyu's head still felt heavy. "About an hour," Wen Jifei said. *So it's only been an hour. I thought it was much longer.* Han Qingyu tried to move; a wave of pain washed over his whole body. He asked, "How are Tangtang and Wu Xu?" "Tangtang's already awake." The iron armor hesitated. "Wu Xu... Wu Xu isn't awake yet. Doctor Zhe says he doesn't need treatment." Doesn't need treatment?! Han Qingyu looked down at Zhe Qiuhong, murderous intent flaring in his eyes. Zhe Qiuhong glanced up at him and said calmly, "I said he doesn't need it." "..." *How is that possible?* Han Qingyu thought. "His wounds are slowly growing back on their own. As long as he doesn't die, all he needs is time." Zhe Qiuhong casually tapped her own chest, indicating that even the wound over Wu Xu's heart was regenerating on its own. "It really is growing. Very slowly, but it's repairing and regrowing. She showed me how to check," Wen Jifei added from the side, struggling to suppress his excitement. Then he said, "I think this might be why Wu Xu managed to survive coming all this way in the past. He's really hard to kill, isn't he?!" "..." Han Qingyu felt his mind go a bit blank. Hearing them describe it, this "growing" clearly didn't refer to the ordinary concept of wound healing. Did that mean Wu Xu was like a gecko or a crab, able to regrow a severed tail or limb? And he could even regenerate his heart...? Han Qingyu struggled to wrap his head around it, but found it difficult. Zhe Qiuhong looked at him and said calmly, "Hard to understand? But aren't you pretty much the same?" "Me?" Han Qingyu finally realized what she meant, recalling how his skin peeled and regenerated every time he suffered severe trauma. Perhaps Plague Chicken and Rusty Sister had already told her... Struggling, he propped his upper body up. "So Wu Xu is like me?!" This time, Zhe Qiuhong looked at him the way one would look at a student who couldn't grasp a lesson no matter how it was explained. A bit impatient, she said, "Not the same. Just similar." "Oh." His thoughts scrambled again, Han Qingyu sank back down to lie flat. He closed his eyes to sort it through, and after a moment, slowly opened them again and asked, "What are we?" "I don't know." "Monsters... anomalies?" Han Qingyu didn't want to call himself a monster. Zhe Qiuhong didn't stop her hands. While continuing to dress his wounds, she thought for a moment. "You can't really call it that either. I previously made a deduction that this condition might stem from a kind of inheritance—or rather, absorption, plunder." Han Qingyu's gaze grew increasingly bewildered as she explained. Rusty Sister and Wen Jifei looked just as confused. Noticing this, Zhe Qiuhong paused, then shifted her explanatory approach: "Hypothetically—strictly hypothetically. Suppose this planet once had an abundance of source energy hundreds of millions, tens of millions, or millions of years ago, and certain entities grew upon it. Personally, I call them source beasts, though of course they could have been humans. Later on, source energy gradually depleted or abruptly vanished for some reason, and they departed or died. But there is one thing I expect you to know: if source energy is not actively consumed, it is the most stable form of existence. Thus, their death did not mean complete dissipation; remnants were left behind..." Having said this, she gave the three a moment to catch up before concluding, "Those remnants happened to be... eaten by you. That's all there is to it. You aren't monsters or anomalies." Between words like *inherit*, *absorb*, *plunder*, and *devour*, Zhe Qiuhong had hesitated for a while before finally settling on the word with the broadest scope: *eat*. "Of course, this is merely my deduction and hypothesis," she added at the end. "Then have you ever seen anyone like us?" Han Qingyu asked, somewhat nervous. "Of course," Zhe Qiuhong said. "Some I've seen in person, others I've deduced. And I expect there will be more in the future." "Is Plague Chicken one?" "No. 'Dice' is merely a physiological disorder, just like some people are born with ED," Zhe Qiuhong cited calmly. If Wen Jifei hadn't been ignorant of what ED meant, he would have reached for his knife. Han Qingyu: "Then what about Rusty Sister?" "No. I've studied her files carefully; she herself is entirely normal." Zhe Qiuhong shook her head, then turned to glance at Rusty Sister. "Her current condition was caused entirely by later events." "Then is there a way to get her out?!" When Han Qingyu asked this, the iron armor visibly shuddered, and Wen Jifei tensed up as well. "There is, but there's a ten percent chance at most. Ninety percent of the time, she'll die." The three fell silent. If it were in the past, Rusty Sister would definitely have chosen without hesitation to try, to gamble on that ten percent. But now, she was terrified of that ninety percent; she couldn't bear to leave them behind, even if it meant existing forever inside a suit of iron armor. "Can I discuss something with you? I can be your squad doctor, but on one condition," Zhe Qiuhong suddenly asked Han Qingyu of her own accord in the quiet room, snipping off a suture thread. A squad doctor? That sounded pretty good, and they certainly needed one. Changing his expression, Han Qingyu said politely, "Go ahead." "When you die one day, let me dissect your corpse. Or when that other one, Wu Xu, dies, let me dissect him." Zhe Qiuhong spoke with such calmness and total lack of taboo that the atmosphere in the room plummeted instantly. "Get lost!" Han Qingyu glared at her, gritting his teeth.