MMPS Ch. 13

Chapter 13: An Encounter

Yu An stood sideways before the mirror, his peripheral vision quickly assessing his surroundings. Then, without a flicker of emotion, he slowly and deliberately removed his shoulder bag and held it tightly in his hand.

Everything in the Xiliu Beauty Salon felt wrong. In the span of just two hours, so many horrifying, unnatural events had unfolded that it seemed impossible for him to retain his sanity. Yet, somehow, he had managed to remain composed. The only reason he hadn’t snapped was the courage he’d cultivated from countless horror games, where every jump scare and eerie sound became second nature.

But reality was different from the games. When you’re staring at a screen, there’s an unspoken assumption—that no matter how monstrous the creature on the other side, it won’t break through the screen and come after you. Here, however, with a severed hand in the room with him, that assumption was shattered. The horror was tangible. The threat was real.

In the most tense of moments, Yu An didn’t panic. He considered hurling the bag wildly at the floor to make noise, to try and create chaos, but he paused. Someone was just next door. If he caused a scene, it would only push him into a more vulnerable position.

So, he decided on Plan B.

While the severed hand, still clinging to his bag, was distracted, Yu An swiftly jerked his wrist.

The hand, unable to grip firmly, flew up with a sharp whoosh before slamming into the floor with a sickening thud. The impact was so hard, the fingers fluttered and struggled like a fish out of water. The hand tumbled across the floor in a daze, before slamming into the wall.

Yu An didn’t hesitate. With precision and disgust, he stepped on the hand. It crunched underfoot, sending a chilling noise echoing through the room.

The hand wriggled fiercely like a trapped animal, its fingers twitching with a force that seemed unnatural. Yu An pressed harder, the hand letting out an agonizing creak as the fingers contorted, tracing a stick figure, almost childlike drawing on the floor.

It was a face—its hair wild and spiky like a ragged chicken’s feathers, its mouth filled with jagged teeth. It looked like a monster, its meaning completely inscrutable.

Yu An crouched down, scrutinizing the crude portrait that the hand had drawn.

“Looks a bit like the interviewer.”

The hand beat the ground with a frantic rhythm, as though it were vigorously nodding in agreement.

Yu An picked up the hand, gripping its wrist. He examined it closely.

It was an extraordinarily beautiful hand—long fingers, soft, fair skin, and delicate joints that had a faint pinkish hue. Though the interviewer had never removed his gloves in front of him, Yu An had imagined what the hands hidden beneath them must look like.

So, this was the secret of his gloves? Could it be that his two hands weren’t actually connected to his body? Had he sent just his right hand to help him?

A person who could make a name for himself in the bustling Underground Metro and secure a place among the upper echelons was no meek individual. The interviewer couldn’t possibly be as gentle and considerate as he appeared on the surface.

Yu An was more certain than ever. The interviewer was probably a carrier for some kind of Aberrant Core—and one of a high level, too. The ability to detach limbs and make them act on their own could only be the work of a powerful core.

But then, he thought to himself, the hand was so remarkably beautiful.

He ran his fingers along the palm of the severed hand, tracing each finger delicately before pinching the tips. He held it to his nose, inhaling the faint scent of wood that lingered on the skin. It was the same scent as the interviewer’s own—a strange, earthy smell that clung to him.

The hand’s fingers curled inwards, as though it were embarrassed, a soft blush creeping over its joints.

Yu An sat back, leaning against the wall, straining to listen to the sounds from next door. The doctor was still inside, seemingly assembling something with metal parts. He hadn’t emerged yet.

For now, he could only wait.

During the tense silence, Yu An quietly whispered to the hand: “Interviewer, did you slip me a gun?”

Though the Underground Metro didn’t officially allow agents to carry firearms, such a large organization must surely have a hidden arsenal.

The hand shook its fingers with a no.

“What about a powerful Aberrant Core, like the kind with the ability to fight, like that goat horn we had before?”

The hand paused, confused, its inability to comprehend the complex question evident. Perhaps, detached from the body, it couldn’t fully grasp such terms.

Yu An sighed: “Then, what can you do?”

The hand stood upright on its index and middle fingers, its thumb and little finger curling up into an impossible arc, a grotesque human-like pose that only the hand itself could achieve. It flexed its bicep, showing off its muscle.

“Forget it.” Yu An grabbed the hand and let it rest quietly on his shoulder “I just hope you can actually fight.”

Just then, the white door creaked open, and the male doctor emerged, walking down the hallway without a glance toward Yu An.

Yu An, leaning against the door, used the mirror on his eyepiece to monitor the doctor’s movements. He waited until the figure in the white coat disappeared around the corner before, cautiously, he pushed open the door and, with his back against the wall, crept into the next room.

The stench hit him immediately. It was overpowering, a putrid mixture of disinfectant and sweat, so thick it stung his eyes. It felt as though he had walked into a slaughterhouse that hadn’t been cleaned in weeks.

On the central lift bed, a mound of flesh lay motionless, its body connected to a mass of tangled tubes. Transparent conduits filled with medicine injected into the bloated skin, the swollen needle holes painfully visible and inflamed.

The beauty salon was preparing for a new Bone Art video. There was no time left to waste.

This body was even more monstrous than the one Yu An had first encountered in the hospital’s mortuary. It was likely that drugs had been administered to cause extreme weight gain.

Yu An pulled out the photo Officer Ye had given him, comparing it to the bloated figure on the bed. The photo of the polite, genial man, Mr. Zhou, bore no resemblance to the beast lying before him.

The report from Officer Ye had made clear that the missing person, Zhou Gongxing, had dropped out of the top research team six years ago due to illness. He had been receiving treatment at Longhui City Hospital. But the drugs had caused a mutation, turning his body obese. To this day, no one knew why he had appeared alone in Hongli City.

Yu An had felt a strange sense of familiarity the first time he heard the name. When he saw the photo, he knew why. This was not a case of mere coincidence. This was the same Mr. Zhou he remembered, the one whose image was printed in the textbooks of every mechanical engineering student at Longhui University.

Mr. Zhou was renowned in precision machinery, contributing to countless works and textbooks, his name a legend in the field.

Yu An stepped forward and shook Mr. Zhou’s arm.

The bloated face on the pillow stirred, the swollen eyes barely opening, revealing nothing but a gaping abyss beneath the hood.

Mr. Zhou’s eyes flicked upward, but there was no movement. The monitors connected to him showed signs of distress.

Yu An swiftly removed the black hood, using a knife to cut through the leather straps binding Mr. Zhou to the bed. The hand on Yu An’s shoulder jumped down to help him with the copper buckles.

Once the restraints were off, Yu An began to carefully remove the IV tubes from Mr. Zhou’s body, peeling off the adhesive bandages before gently pulling the needles free. The liquid from the needles dripped as the syringes emptied.

“Go pull out the tubes from his lower body.” Yu An whispered to the hand, which was now standing still and watching.

The hand obeyed, climbing swiftly over Mr. Zhou’s legs, grabbing a handful of IV lines and yanking them off. Some of the needles still had blood dripping from them.

“……” Yu An clicked his tongue in irritation. The right hand, seemingly on its own accord, made things worse. He awkwardly retreated to the side, nervously rubbing his fingertips together.

But then, he realized that this approach might actually be faster. He swiftly gathered a length of IV tubing and yanked it free with a sharp motion. Then, he grabbed some gauze, using it to clean the bleeding puncture site. It wasn’t a major issue, but he needed to act quickly.

The sharp sting of the needle in his skin brought Mr. Zhou back to consciousness. This time, when his eyes opened, he saw the young man’s face—a delicate, youthful visage.

Mr. Zhou’s gaze shifted to the small mechanical eyepiece hanging from Yu An’s backpack, and the faint, familiar words “Changhui University” printed on its exterior. A rush of emotion surged through him. His bloated, malformed fingers curled around the strap of Yu An’s bag, gripping it with a desperate strength.

“Good… child… where did you come from?” His voice was a rasp, crushed by the fat that had overtaken his throat, his words barely forming a coherent sentence. “Go… quickly…”

“Mister, how long do you have left?” Yu An tried to push the beauty bed, but its wheels were useless against the weight of Mr. Zhou’s body. It didn’t move, as though the bed had fused with the ground. Yu An pushed again, using all his strength, but it refused to budge.

The bluntness of his question seemed to puzzle Mr. Zhou. He laughed, an agonizing, painful sound that twisted his features into a grotesque expression. “As expected… of a student from… Changhui University… I… I’ll die with no regrets…”

Yu An was left with empty hands, staring at the right one that Mr. Zhou still gripped. His hand, trapped in the dying man’s grasp, was forced into a grim attempt at comfort.

Yu An wasn’t equipped with the knowledge of how to soothe others. His specialty was in acting swiftly, not offering empty promises.

This wasn’t going to work. The beauty salon was still too far from the exit. Moving Mr. Zhou out of the building was practically impossible.

If only that ability—the strange, miraculous power of the goat horn—hadn’t been confiscated by the Eagle Bureau. But Yu An had long anticipated this scenario. If he couldn’t transport Mr. Zhou out, he would have to divert the danger away from him and buy time, waiting for Officer Ye and the others to secure the cross-regional arrest warrant.

Yet, the Aberrants inside the beauty salon hadn’t shown their faces yet, and Yu An felt a growing unease in his gut.

He didn’t feel any particularly strong sense of responsibility for saving Mr. Zhou. His main goal was completing the task and then casually mentioning to his interviewer, “It was nothing,” curious to see his expressions change.

Yu An’s eyes scanned the cluttered equipment in the salon, finally landing on a particular device. His pupils constricted in sudden realization.

A video camera. It was recording, pointed directly at the beauty bed.

The first lesson any rookie investigator learns in the field is to always check the surroundings when entering a room.

Run.

Without hesitation, Yu An bolted toward the door, only to find it barely opening—blocked by something outside.

A chill ran down his spine.

He hadn’t noticed when, but the man with black-rimmed glasses, the doctor, was standing just outside the door. He was peering through the door’s peephole, silently watching him.

Yu An, disregarding everything else, used all his strength to push against the door. His body slammed against it, but the hinges snapped, and the door split in two. Still, the doctor didn’t fall. Instead, his head crashed through the door, and his body remained unmoving, still bent forward as though he were still peering through the peephole.

When their eyes met, the doctor’s lips curled into a smile. Before Yu An could react, the doctor’s hand shot forward, aiming directly for his chest.

Buzz! 

A deep, unsettling hum filled the air. It sounded like an angry swarm of mosquitoes, buzzing incessantly. Yu An’s left eye flared with a strange, erratic pattern, and from his back, two thin gray wings unfurled, flickering at a rapid pace, creating phantom shadows.

Eh, it can’t hit!

His Core Analyzer screen lit up, displaying the words “Aberrant Core—Night Walker Mosquito.” Below it, a mosquito icon appeared, accompanied by a note: “Remaining uses: 0.”

Yu An’s wings beat with all their might as he slipped between the narrow space between the doorframe and the doctor’s outstretched arm.

The ability of the Night Walker Mosquito was simple—dodge one fatal attack. The doctor’s punch aimed at Yu An’s heart had already been deemed a deadly strike, meaning the doctor was no longer human.

He was probably one of the Aberrants guarding this place.

The sound of the door splintering startled Mr. Zhou, and the hand, still resting on the beauty bed. The hand jerked away in surprise. It scrambled to his feet, disoriented, circling around the room in a panic. After a few moments, it finally found his bearings, diving between the doctor’s legs in pursuit of Yu An, his fingers scrambling quickly. When it reached Yu An’s shoulder, it finally exhaled in relief.

The doctor, his attention now focused solely on Yu An, began to follow his fleeing figure.

Yu An’s mind raced as he recalled the layout of the beauty salon. Turning back would be a death sentence. The corridor was guarded by fake-cleaning staff, and even if he could escape there, he’d still run into a group of crazy consultants. His only option was to take another path.

There had been a small room along the way with some larger equipment. The door had a warning label about ionizing radiation. Yu An had no choice but to slip inside.

Inside, the room was dim, illuminated only by the light spilling in from the hallway. He grabbed a flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness.

The Night Walker Mosquito’s energy was spent. The core’s colors had faded, leaving it feeling dry and brittle, as if there were a wad of old paper stuffed into his eye socket.

Yu An carefully removed the used Mosquito Core and inserted it into his Core Analyzer. Now, only three Aberrant Cores remained.

One of them was a Tier 3 Blue Eagle Wing, but in such a cramped space, its flying abilities were rendered useless.

Yu An pulled out the Function Core—Satan’s Guidance, inserting it into his eye socket. Purple light pulsed, and the connection was made.

The frequent core swaps caused a stinging sensation in his left eye socket.

Scattered across the floor were two lead aprons, meant for radiation protection. Yu An carefully moved along the wall, looking for another exit, but he couldn’t afford to run too far. He needed to make sure the doctor was still following him, or he would risk the doctor returning to dissect Mr. Zhou.

In the corner of the room stood an old X-ray machine, reminiscent of the outdated models from the last century, like something from a fitting room at a clothing store. A large display screen was set up in front of it, and behind it, the machine itself loomed. To take an X-ray, a person had to stand between the two.

The machine was running, its constant mechanical hum piercing through the quiet, disorienting Yu An’s hearing, making it impossible to gauge the doctor’s proximity.

Suddenly, Yu An felt the right hand begin tugging violently at his hair, a silent signal to look toward the door.

The doctor had caught up. He stepped over the lead aprons on the floor and bent down, searching under tables and chairs for Yu An.

Yu An, crouching in the dark alcove near the X-ray machine, could only watch as the doctor’s slow, deliberate steps drew closer.

With a haunting smile, the doctor finally reached the alcove and leaned down, their eyes locking in a chilling moment of stillness.

In that instant, Yu An’s left eye glowed purple, the grotesque goat-head aberration on the surface of the core grinning wickedly.

The basic ability of Satan’s Guidance was to confuse the target’s sense of direction.

The doctor’s eyes dulled, his movements slow and disoriented, as he staggered to his feet.

Yu An seized the moment. He drew his steel dagger and leaped forward.

His right hand gripped the knife in reverse, while his left formed a defensive fist. A powerful kick slammed into the doctor’s face.

The doctor, still under the influence of Satan’s Guidance, was sluggish. He barely raised a hand to block Yu An’s kick, and Yu An swiftly twisted his body, using his right leg to sweep the doctor off his feet.

Yu An knew all too well what the interviewer had taught him—Aberrants relied on the cores within their bodies to move. If you didn’t extract the core, they would always get back up.

Without hesitation, Yu An leaped onto the doctor, pinning him down with his own body. His dagger pierced through the doctor’s body, the blade probing for the core’s location.

Nothing. No core in the left abdomen. Not in the chest… or the thighs…

 Where the hell is it?! 

The doctor kicked upward, driving his knee into Yu An’s abdomen and knocking Yu An to the ground.

Yu An tried to turn and flee, but the male doctor grabbed the back of his neck with a powerful hand and lifted him high, then slammed him hard against the wall.

“Ah! Ugh…” Yu An collided with the wall and then crumpled to the ground. His cheek scraped against the rough surface, his bones creaking in protest. The blow left him dazed, his internal organs churning, and he couldn’t get up for a long time.

The male doctor moved like a rusted puppet, his movements jerky. Slowly, he straightened inch by inch, with blood oozing from the holes the dagger had left in his body, gradually staining his white coat red.