Vigilance

By the time he walked out of the Wreckage bar, dawn was breaking.

Street sweepers crept along the streets, and the mist from the sprinkler trucks refracted rainbows in the morning light. People heading to work early hurried past with coffee and newspapers in hand, complaining that the "unexplained explosion" in the industrial district last night had kept them from sleeping well.

Zhao Fan walked down the street with a stack of dollars tucked against his chest. The backpack on his back was empty, but his heart had grown unbearably heavy.

He found a reasonably clean twenty-four-hour motel, rented a room by the hour, and sank into a steaming bathtub.

The water soon turned grayish black.

He scrubbed his skin hard until it was red and sore. He was washing away the grime, and trying to wash away that bloody smell, too.

Then he applied medicine to the wound on his shoulder blade. Once everything was done, Zhao Fan stood in front of the mirror.

He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, and even he found the look in them unfamiliar.

"Is this the price...?"

He had gained a system, gained abilities, and earned money, but he was also losing the peace of an ordinary life-though in this world, ordinary people never had such things to begin with.

Ten in the morning.

Zhao Fan changed into a newly purchased set of casual clothes-clean jeans, a white T-shirt, and a dark blue jacket over it. He had made a point of getting his hair cut short at a barbershop and shaving off his stubble.

When he stood below the apartment building, he looked like a young office worker who was a little tired but otherwise in decent spirits.

Except for his eyes. There was no hiding the vigilance and sharpness buried deep within them.

He took a deep breath, adjusted his expression, and forced an easy smile.

"Hey! Zhao!"

Before he could head upstairs, a cheerful voice came from above.

Zhao Fan looked up and saw Maya leaning out of a third-floor window, waving vigorously at him; the morning sunlight bathed her in a golden outline. She was so radiant, so clean.

"You're finally back! I waited for you all night!" Maya shouted. "Come up! I have good news!"

Zhao Fan's heart gave a sudden thump, and a bitter ache rose within him.

He started up the stairs. Every step felt like crossing between two worlds.

When he reached the third-floor hallway, Maya was already waiting at her door. She wore a pale yellow dress today, her hair neatly combed and her face lightly made up. She looked radiant.

"Look!"

She held up a check like a treasured prize and waved it in front of him.

"It sold! My painting sold! And it was Flowers on the Ruins!" Maya was so excited she nearly jumped. She grabbed Zhao Fan's hand. "It's all thanks to those brushes you gave me! I painted it with my old brushes, but I used your paints for the finishing touches! The gallery owner said the clash of colors was absolutely incredible!"

Zhao Fan looked at the check. Twelve hundred dollars.

For Maya, it was recognition of her artistic talent, a light from her dreams shining into reality.

For Zhao Fan now, it was merely a small "condolence payment" he had just given Old Dog, or enough money to buy a few throwing knives on the black market.

"Congratulations, Maya." Zhao Fan's smile was sincere. "I knew you could do it; you're a genius."

"No, it was us!" Maya corrected him. "Without your help and encouragement, I would've given up long ago. So... you absolutely have to come to my celebration party tonight!"

"A party?" Zhao Fan paused.

"Yeah! In my room! I invited a few classmates, and... and the gallery owner is coming, too!" Maya's eyes sparkled. "Zhao, you have to come. You're my muse and my best friend. I want you there to witness my moment."

Best friend.

Those words struck Zhao Fan's chest like a heavy hammer.

He instinctively withdrew his hand and slipped it into his pocket. His fingers touched Shadow's cold black metal business card, as well as the throwing knives he needed to carry.

"I..." Zhao Fan wanted to refuse.

He looked into Maya's clear eyes, eyes that had never seen bloodshed or true darkness.

And him?

He had only just crawled out of the dark underground. His hands were covered in invisible darkness. He was a "scavenger" who walked the edge of the law, a desperado willing to make deals with devils for profit.

He belonged to the night, to the ruins. She belonged to sunlight and art.

If he got too close, would he bring that rotten smell to her? Would he lead Evelyn's investigation, Kestrel's retaliation, and Shadow's schemes straight to this innocent girl?

"Zhao?" Maya noticed his hesitation. The excitement in her eyes dimmed, replaced by unease. "Do you... have something to do? I know you're busy with work. If it's inconvenient..."

Seeing her disappointment, Zhao Fan softened.

"No, I'm free." Zhao Fan forced his emotions down and smiled again, though the smile made his facial muscles feel stiff. "This is wonderful news. I'll definitely be there. What time?"

"Seven tonight!" Maya instantly sprang back to life, as happy as a child. "Great! I'll go get the food ready! Get a little rest yourself. Look at those dark circles-they're practically down to your chin!"

Humming, she skipped happily back into her room and shut the door.

Dead silence returned to the hallway.

Zhao Fan stood where he was. The smile slowly disappeared from his face, replaced by weariness.

He lowered his head and looked at his hands. Though washed perfectly clean, they were still covered in tiny wounds and calluses.

"Two worlds..." he murmured.

Back in his room, Zhao Fan left the lights off.

He sat by the window, watching the busy street outside. Benjamin had sent a message saying he had safely moved to a new hideout and upgraded his equipment with the money Zhao Fan had given him. He was ready to provide support for the next operation at any time.

The next one.

Yes. Once he set foot on this road, there was no end to it.

Zhao Fan felt the five thousand dollars in his pocket and recalled Shadow's last meaningful look.

"I'm only interested in things of greater value..."

Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind like lightning.

Something's wrong.

The transaction had gone too smoothly, and she had even paid extra-a stark departure from the way she had handled their first deal.

Although she had acted greedy, for a big shot who could hold her ground in a place like Hell's Kitchen, her attitude toward that "Leviathan sample" had seemed a little... too eager!

The selling point of that "Leviathan biological armor sample" on the black market had always been its "biological activity." Pharmaceutical companies and weapons tycoons were willing to pay astronomical prices for that piece of living tissue capable of repairing itself.

But what about Shadow?

Zhao Fan recalled Shadow's movements when she inspected the goods. She had never checked the sample's tissue activity at all. The instrument she had taken out had previously been used to measure "the frequency of energy fluctuations."

She had not even examined the sample carefully. She had paid as soon as she confirmed the energy reading.

And that energy reading...

Zhao Fan closed his eyes, recalling what he had seen last night through [Weak Energy Perception].

Zhao Fan sprang to his feet. He realized he had overlooked something crucial: the sample was a Symbiote of "biology" and "machinery." What if Shadow had not wanted the core sample, but only the power core inside it?

A powerful sense of unease drove him to stand up.

There were still a few hours before the party. Zhao Fan put his cap back on, pulled the brim low, and left the apartment.

Instead of taking the subway, he took a cab to the edge of Hell's Kitchen.

He did not go straight to the Wreckage bar. Instead, he circled around to the back alley of its block, where the bar dumped its garbage and waste.

Several huge metal dumpsters stood haphazardly in the shadows. A few stray cats were rummaging through the trash for food.

Zhao Fan activated his perception.

His gaze swept over the pile of garbage.

No reaction, no reaction, no...

Wait.

Buried beneath empty liquor bottles and bags of food waste was a faint purple glimmer, so weak it was almost gone.

Zhao Fan's heart skipped a beat. He hurried over and, ignoring the filth, heaved the garbage aside.

Clang!

A grayish-white object rolled out.

It was... the Leviathan biological armor sample.

[D-grade remnant detected: Leviathan biological sample deprived of its energy supply.]

[Analysis value: extremely low.]

[Note: this sample's power core has been removed. Its biological tissue is rapidly undergoing necrosis.]

Now it lay like a piece of rotten meat, carelessly discarded in the trash. Where its central core had once emitted energy fluctuations, there was nothing but a hollow.

It had been precisely cut out.

The cut was smooth as a mirror, clearly made with some extremely advanced laser-cutting equipment.

"So that's it..."

He finally understood.

There was no buyer for a biological sample. That hundred thousand dollars had not been paid for this enormous piece of armor, nor for any biological sample.

All Shadow wanted was the energy core hidden in the deepest part of the sample!

Zhao Fan went further, speculating that the core might not even belong to the Chitauri. Chitauri biotechnology was "grown," but the cut in this shell showed that the core inside could be "stripped out."

It was an external-or rather, forcibly implanted-special energy module of some kind.

In the eyes of someone like Shadow, he was merely a somewhat stronger ant that had carried a walnut for her. She had taken the kernel, then casually thrown away the shell like garbage, even though it was still a "treasure" to the ant.

That discarded shell could still fetch at least a few thousand on an ordinary black market; but in Shadow's eyes, the risk involved in disposing of it already outweighed its value.

"She's looking for specific components..." Zhao Fan stood up. The uncertainty in his eyes vanished completely, replaced by a chill.

Shadow was not simply a middleman.

She was collecting specific things-the various materials accumulated before, and now the biological sample's core. If those things were put together...

What did she want to build?

Or rather, what did she want to blow up?

Zhao Fan did not know the answer, but he knew he had unwittingly become a link in some enormous conspiracy. He was the one handing over the knife.

"What is she trying to do?"

Zhao Fan whispered into empty space.

He did not take the shell. Carrying it would only invite unnecessary trouble, and without its core, it was rapidly rotting into something worthless.

He turned and left the alley. If he had previously only been forced to struggle for survival, now he truly saw the rules of this world.

Unless he climbed higher, gained real power, and figured out the game being played behind all this, no amount of money could change his fate of being used and discarded.

"Interesting."

A dim gleam flashed through Zhao Fan's eyes.

When he returned to the apartment, it was exactly six fifty-five in the evening.

Cheerful music and the laughter and chatter of young people were already coming from Maya's room.

Zhao Fan stood before the mirror, looking at himself.

His clothes were clean, and his face was washed;

He tried hard to smile.

The corners of his mouth lifted, his gaze softened.

Once, twice.

At last, in the mirror, he saw a perfect Zhao Fan who belonged among "ordinary people."

Knock, knock, knock.

He knocked on Maya's door.

The door opened. Maya stood in the light, holding a glass of champagne and smiling like an angel.

"Zhao! You're here! Come in, everyone's been waiting to meet you!"

Zhao Fan stepped inside, entering that world filled with color, art, and laughter.

"Happy birthday... oh, no, congratulations." He offered a bottle of red wine bought by the roadside, a perfect smile on his face.

But he knew that, in his heart, the door leading to a "normal life" had already closed behind him forever.

He stood in the light, but his heart already belonged to the dark.

A secret D.O.D.C. laboratory.

Beneath a surgical light, Dr. Evelyn Reed peered through a microscope, examining a drop of dark red liquid on a slide.

It had been extracted from a concrete pillar beside the underground core. Though there was only a tiny amount, and it was merely one of countless bloodstains left at the scene, Evelyn never overlooked any detail.

"Are the DNA sequencing results back?" Evelyn asked without turning her head.

The assistant beside her handed over a report, his expression odd. "Doctor, the results are very... strange."

"Strange how?"

"Although this sample's DNA sequence is largely human, it contains an abnormally active gene segment." The assistant hesitated. "This level of activity has generally only been seen in... people exposed to high-energy radiation, people injected with certain enhancement serums, and people with superpowers."

Evelyn jerked her head up and snatched the report.

"Compare it against the database," she ordered. "I want to know who this sample belongs to."

"We already have." The assistant brought up a photograph: Zhao Fan's employee ID photo, his expression wooden. "A 99.9 percent match. It's the missing temporary worker, Zhao Fan."

On the data chart, that abnormal peak stabbed into her eyes like a thorn.

"Adrenaline levels five times those of an ordinary person, and extremely high cellular mitochondrial activity..." Evelyn murmured.

"But that doesn't make sense," the assistant added. "If this metabolic rate were sustained, he would already have died of organ failure. It looks more like... an explosive overload."

"Overload..." Evelyn narrowed her eyes, recalling the force that had repelled everything in that day's surveillance footage.

Evelyn looked at the photograph. The hunter had finally caught the fox's tail.

"Zhao Fan..."

"Doctor, should we notify S.H.I.E.L.D.?" the assistant asked. "Under the Superhuman Management Act, any unregistered enhanced individual or person with superpowers must be reported..."

"No." Evelyn interrupted him, a fanatical gleam in her eyes. "S.H.I.E.L.D. would only lock him in a cage. What a waste."

She carefully placed the slide into a temperature-controlled chamber.

"This is a perfect sample. A sample capable of surviving in a highly radioactive environment and independently 'evolving' through some means." Evelyn's voice was low. "I want to study him myself."

"Suppress all information concerning this sample," she ordered her assistant. "Also, activate the 'Dark Eye' protocol. I want his exact current location. Even if he hides in hell, I'll dig him out."

The assistant shivered at the doctor's somewhat morbid excitement and lowered his head. "Yes."

Evelyn walked to the enormous floor-to-ceiling window and looked down over the city.

"Little mouse," she said softly. "Let me see how far you can go. I hope you can run a little faster."