MMPS Ch. 3

Chapter 3: A Conversation with Zhao Ran

Zhao Ran emerged from the shadows and into the light. As he did, the fierce, lethal aura around him seemed to dissipate, like a flame that had momentarily been extinguished.

His skin was pale, almost unnaturally so, his brow sharp and prominent. His double eyelids were wide, and his features seemed to carry an unmistakable trace of Russian heritage. Yet, it was not just his appearance that caught attention—there was something else, something unsettling. His skin seemed to suffer from an unusual form of albinism, leaving his hair and irises a haunting shade of pale pink.

This face… it was vaguely familiar, as if it existed in the corners of his mind, just out of reach. For a fleeting moment, Yu An felt a strange disconnection, a blank space where his thoughts should be. He tried to grasp it, but it slipped away, leaving only a void.

Could he be photosensitive? The thought struck Yu An with sudden clarity. His instincts sharp, he seized a fire extinguisher and hurled it toward the pale figure.

It was a sudden strike, one that Zhao Ran could barely deflect. He lifted his wrist with ease, absorbing the brunt of the blow, the heavy impact leaving a subtle dent on the side of the extinguisher.

The extinguisher flew from Yu An’s hands, but he barely noticed. He was already on the move—his body lunged forward, knocking Zhao Ran off balance. In a fluid motion, Yu An pinned him to the floor, straddling his chest, a sharp fruit knife pressed against the side of his neck.

“Don’t move.” Yu An’s voice was cold, like the wind biting at the peak of a mountain.

Zhao Ran lay on the frozen ground, his arms raised above his head in surrender, a small smirk curling on his lips: “Not even officially hired, and you’ve already mounted me?”

The words repeated in Yu An’s earpiece, slightly delayed: “Not even officially hired, and you’ve already mounted me?”

Yu An’s mind flickered with confusion. A few seconds ago, Zhao Ran had been nothing short of a monster—a force of unrestrained chaos. But now, he was almost serene, his demeanor completely at odds with the fury he had shown earlier. It was as if the madness had vanished entirely, leaving only a calm and measured presence.

Zhao Ran propped himself up on the floor, meeting Yu An’s gaze squarely. His smile widened, an almost predatory gleam in his eyes: “I’m on your side, you know.”

Yu An’s mind, taut with tension, finally relaxed, and his fingertips traced along Zhao Ran’s face, testing the softness of his skin. It was warm and inviting. A striking contrast to the ghostly pallor.

Zhao Ran pulled a business card from his coat pocket and handed it to him: “Three days ago, you applied to our company. I’m your interviewer.”

Yu An glanced down at the card, scanning the bold letters: Underground Metro – Emergency Order Unit – Leader, Zhao Ran.

“Underground Metro”—the most trusted body-hunting organization in Hongli City. Their operations were carried out underground, along the metro lines, specializing in executing open hunting tasks. Zhao Ran’s position was only second to the boss himself.

“I seem to have forgotten a lot of things.” Yu An pressed his fingers to his temple, struggling to bring his memories into focus. Bits and pieces began to emerge, jagged and incomplete.

He remembered—he had received an interview letter. The sender? “Underground Metro.”

With a low grunt, Yu An scrambled off Zhao Ran, embarrassment creeping into his chest.

“Yesterday was the interview day. I waited until evening. Why didn’t you show up?” Zhao Ran lightly touched the bandages on Yu An’s cheek, his gloved hand gently brushing against his skin, rough yet warm.

Yu An had expected to be rescued by the police in such a situation, not this pink guy. His unease deepened.

“Oh… pat-downs are part of the process.” Zhao Ran remarked, sensing his discomfort. With a swift motion, he grabbed Yu An’s wrist through the fabric of his sleeve, guiding his palm against his own chest. His touch was deliberate, slow, moving downward, steady as if it had been practiced a thousand times. His eyes locked with Yu An’s, his voice soft but insistent. “Only by doing this can you feel the little hidden devices enemies use to protect themselves.”

As Zhao Ran spoke, he casually extracted a steel blade from his shirt, flicking it onto the floor, two meters away.

Yu An’s hand was not so much guided by him as controlled by him, his hands exploring his body through the thin layer of the shirt, his palms tracing the contours of warm, firm muscles as if moving over burning mountain ridges.

Yu An’s hands moved not with direction, but with compulsion, feeling the warmth of Zhao Ran’s body under the fabric. The contours of his muscles were firm, unyielding, as if he were tracing the ridges of a burning mountain.

Yu An averted his gaze, trying not to look at those mesmerizing eyes, his throat growing dry.

“Ah, get distracted during the frisk, and you’re as good as dead.” In a swift motion, Zhao Ran’s left hand slid over the leather knife sheath on the outside of his thigh, drawing a steel dagger. In a single second, he disarmed Yu An and pressed the blade to his throat.

“If I wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t even have the chance to see my face.” Zhao Ran mocked, a sneer curling at the corners of his mouth as he walked around him. “Stop thinking about it, little ghost.”

Yu An’s breath hitched. He was forced to tilt his chin up, meeting Zhao Ran’s overpowering gaze. The man was unshaken, completely in control.

Then, the building trembled.

Yu An’s heart skipped a beat as he turned toward the source of the disturbance. Two sharp goat horns punctured the steel door of the nurse’s station. The door was about to give way completely.

It’s still alive?

A chill ran down his spine. The thing’s vitality was unnervingly strong, its presence a creeping horror. Yu An took a cautious step back, only to feel the firm pressure of Zhao Ran’s chest against his back.

Zhao Ran draped an arm across his shoulders, his voice low and laced with an edge of dark amusement: “Do you know what this monster is?”

“An Aberrant.” Yu An muttered, his uncertainty creeping into his words. But he couldn’t afford to leave it unsaid.

“Looks like you remember something useful after all.” Zhao Ran’s grin widened. “That’s right, it’s a mountain goat—one that broke free from its pen. After radiation-induced mutations, it lost control, becoming a grotesque thing. Its core hasn’t been destroyed, so it’s practically immortal.”

Zhao Ran handed Yu An the steel knife. “You’ll need to get familiar with the company’s work. We specialize in cleaning up these Aberrants.”

He kicked the creature’s severed head on the ground, sending it skittering, then continued: “Go on. Rip out its core. Be careful not to destroy it. Some machines run on these cores, and some human mutants can use them too. There’s a huge market for these. You’ll make good money.”

Zhao Ran wore thin leather gloves, and the rough texture brushed against Yu An’s hand, sending a tingling sensation up his arm.

Yu An weighed the knife in his hand—its cold, sharp edge was unmistakable. This was real, a genuine weapon stained with blood. The weight, the reality of it, settled in his stomach like a stone.

“Interviewer, uh I think I need to reconsider…”

“Of course, but you have to walk out of here alive; this is an interview, not a drill.” Zhao Ran chuckled softly, naturally taking off his coat and draping it over the soaked and nearly unconscious Yu An, leaving himself with only a thin burgundy shirt.

The warmth of Zhao Ran’s body seeped through the coat, and Yu An clutched it tightly, inhaling the faint scent of laundry detergent, oddly comforting in the midst of all the chaos.

A deafening crash shook the hospital once again, and the door to the nurse’s station splintered, chunks of brick and stone raining down. Smoke and embers filled the air as the grotesque goat-headed creature emerged from the wreckage, its fur singed, its body reeking of burnt flesh. On its broad chest, the words were etched in a scalding red: Pizza Manor #6, Goodman Ranch, Goat Milk’s So Good, Ask for Goodman.

“Do as I say.” Zhao Ran’s voice was low, his grip releasing Yu An’s wrist. He gave a quick tap on Yu An’s earpiece. “I’ll draw it away.”

“Don’t go.” Yu An blurted, reaching out instinctively. His fingers brushed against a hard bump on Zhao Ran’s side, something beneath his shirt. A bandage?

Zhao Ran paused, hearing the unspoken plea. He turned, eyes wide with surprise, waiting for Yu An to speak.

Yu An withdrew his hand, glancing down. His palm was coated with a thick, dark red liquid, the unmistakable scent of blood pungent in the air.

Zhao Ran… had been seriously hurt.

By the time Yu An looked up, Zhao Ran was already moving. In an instant, his body shot forward, a blur of motion as he leapt over the monstrous goat, the blood from his wound mingling with the stench of battle. The creature turned, following the trail of blood and noise.

Yu An tightened his grip on the dagger’s hilt, his gaze drifting toward the goat-headed monstrosity impaled on the ground. Despite the iron bar lodged in its chest, its back rose and fell steadily—it was still breathing.

A wave of unease gripped him. He stepped back, cautiously widening the distance, his shoulder brushing against the surveillance room door. The hinges groaned loudly in the silence.

He turned, his eyes scanning the room’s interior. What he saw made his pupils constrict.

The surveillance room was strewn with bodies. They lay in awkward, lifeless heaps, all clad in work uniforms. Not one of them stirred; they were all unconscious.

Had this been the work of the interviewer? Crouching down, Yu An checked their pulses. His fingers trembled slightly as doubts began to creep into his mind. If the so-called kidnapper had been impersonating the interviewer, feigning kindness while keeping his true motives concealed, wouldn’t that explain everything?

A faint, almost imperceptible touch brushed against his side. Yu An froze momentarily before steadying himself. Reaching into the abandoned trench coat left by the interviewer, his fingers found a phone.

Did he leave it on purpose? 

The phone buzzed in his hand, an unknown number flashing on the screen.

He hesitated briefly before answering. Yu An remained silent, allowing the other person to speak first.

A woman’s voice, trembling with suppressed fear, broke through the line. Though hushed, her words carried the weight of desperation: “Mr. Zhao? This is Guxian County Hospital in Hongli City. We’ve been attacked by goat-shaped aberrations. We’re hiding in the second-floor consultation rooms, too scared to leave. Please, save us…”

Her voice faltered, growing softer until it disappeared entirely, leaving only the sound of tense, labored breathing.

So, there were survivors in this hospital. Yu An blinked, momentarily stunned, before lowering his voice to a whisper, sharp and deliberate: “Stay where you are. Don’t move.”

The relief was palpable on the other end, and quiet sobs of gratitude followed. “Mr. Zhao is coming! We’re saved, we’re saved…”

Ending the call, Yu An shoved the phone into his pocket and continued searching the trench coat. His fingers brushed over a cigarette box and a small, rectangular device tucked away in another pocket. Its sleek, metallic exterior had a faint outline of a display screen. He flipped it open, revealing a series of empty grooves—eight in total—arranged like ice cube trays. The design seemed intentional, made to store very specific objects.

“Core Storage Analyzer.” read the label embossed at the bottom of the box. 

Yu An turned toward the monitors. The four flickering screens displayed black-and-white feeds. In one, Zhao Ran clung to the ceiling near the elevator on the third floor. A shattered bottle of alcohol lay on the ground below him. Using his elbow, he smashed the corridor light, plunging the hallway into darkness.

He was circling around with the Aberrant. In the darkness, the goat-headed creature couldn’t see him and was hindered by the alcohol affecting its sense of smell, relying solely on hearing to determine his location.

It was clear he was attempting to lure the goat-headed creature toward the elevator.

Yu An exhaled, glancing back at the goat-headed aberration pinned behind him. The creature’s fingers twitched, curling with purpose. Slowly, it began lifting itself off the ground. Blood spurted from the wound where the iron bar pierced its chest, but the bar was bending, warping under the creature’s strength. It wouldn’t hold much longer.

Yu An’s jaw tightened. His gaze remained locked on the creature, unflinching. Picking up Zhao Ran’s phone again, he calmly dialed the Perceptive Eagle Bureau’s emergency hotline.

The line connected almost immediately. A cold, authoritative voice answered: “What is it?”

Yu An’s voice was deliberate, almost clinical: “Would killing an aberration qualify as self-defense?”

“Yes,” the voice confirmed, precise and unyielding. Then, sharp with suspicion, the speaker added, “Where did you get this phone?”

Simultaneously, Zhao Ran’s voice crackled through Yu An’s earpiece, repeating the same answer: “Yes.”

The confirmation was all he needed. Like a predator who had waited too long to strike, Yu An surged forward, pouncing onto the goat-headed creature as it strained against the iron bar. Pinning it down, he gripped the dagger with both hands and plunged it into the aberration’s flesh, cold and unyielding.

Blood sprayed in an arc, warm and wet against his cheek. A crimson streak stained the bandage over his left eye.

His movements were precise, methodical—too practiced for a student. Any observer would have been unnerved, chilled by how effortlessly he sought the creature’s vital points.

Yu An kept the blade buried deep, probing until he felt it—something hard lodged within. Slowly, he withdrew his bloodied hand, his fingers curling around a small, round object.

The Aberrant Core was smooth and cold, pale blue with an amber-like translucence. About the size of a grape, its surface shimmered faintly, carved with the outline of a goat skull. Light seemed to swirl beneath its surface, alive and restless.

Yu An wiped the blood away with his sleeve, examining it carefully before placing it into the storage analyzer’s groove.

The device hummed softly. A thin beam of light scanned the core as the screen flickered to life. A mechanical voice broke the silence, devoid of emotion:

Name: Aberration Core – Goat Horn
Source: Goat-headed Aberration
Type: Common Variant
Grade: Tier 1 Blue (Pale Blue)
Primary Ability: Strength and Agility Enhancement
Usage Limit: 10 minutes
Description: Strength conquers all!
Resonance Requirement: Unknown

Yu An murmured the words under his breath. “What is… an Aberrant Core… mimicry of monsters?”

Silence pressed down like a heavy weight. Yu An knelt on the ground, his chest heaving. His bloodied fingers trailed across the analyzer’s screen, absorbing the data.

The core felt like a battery, brimming with raw energy, powering the monstrous aberrations it belonged to.

Through the earpiece, Zhao Ran’s breathing had grown labored. The strain in his voice betrayed him, exposing his position in the dark.

A sudden, muffled groan pierced through Yu An’s ears like a blade.

“How bad is it?” Yu An pressed his earpiece tighter, concern slipping into his voice.

Two sharp taps. Zhao Ran’s response was measured: “I’m fine.”

Yu An’s gaze lingered on the storage analyzer, his thoughts circling Zhao Ran’s earlier words.

Only those with physical impairments might wield aberration cores.

Impairments… He reached for the bandage covering his left eye. Did this qualify? How would it work?

Driven by an impulse he didn’t fully understand, Yu An removed the pale blue core from its slot. Its shape and size fit perfectly in his hand.

This size and shape……

Without hesitating, he ripped off the bandage shielding his empty eye socket and pressed the core into the hollow space.

The moment the core made contact, light coursed through its veins like living blood, intertwining with his own. Nerves and blood vessels wove into the core’s surface, binding it in place.

A sharp, stabbing pain radiated through Yu An’s head, forcing a guttural gasp from his lips. Instinctively, he clawed at the core, trying to remove it, but it was too late. It had anchored itself deeply, irreversibly.

“What’s happening?” Zhao Ran’s voice was sharper now, the tension undeniable. “Talk to me.”

Yu An couldn’t respond. His head felt as though it would split open. An alien energy coursed through his body, tearing at his insides, forcing his cells to mutate.

The dagger fell from his grip as he staggered into the dark hallway. Each step felt heavier than the last. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor. From beneath his tousled black hair, two curved goat horns began to emerge, their growth slow but unstoppable.

Something unseen was devouring him from within, warping his body. He was no longer entirely human.