Pretend to be crazy

A woman lit a cigarette.

At her feet, a boy, gasping for air after choking on water, was sprawled out, coughing as though his lungs might come out.

He was exceptionally beautiful. Even though he was forced under icy water, suffocating and dragged by his hair, pulling his head out of the water, his face showed no signs of distress.

Water droplets ran down his wet eyelashes, his nose, eyes, and lips were red from the cold water. When he looked up, his long, dense black lashes trembled, revealing piercing grey-blue eyes.

He stared intently at the woman, his lips curling into a joyful smile, the allure hidden beneath his cool exterior, subtly leaking out.

Like a water ghost skilled in seduction, feeding on the hearts of others.

He crawled over and clung to the woman’s legs, nuzzling her affectionately.

“Mom, was my performance bad today?”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s all my fault, I’ll change, I promise,” he whispered.

“Mom… please don’t ignore me.”

The woman viciously kicked him away. With a cigarette in her hand, she gestured, and a bodyguard immediately dragged him back, pressing his head back into the icy water.

This time, he was held down longer. His struggling weakened, and eventually, it stopped.

The woman turned her gaze away, waited a few more seconds, and then coldly spoke, “Save him.”

Falson was injected with a needle, and his chest, almost completely still, suddenly jolted a few times. The boy flipped over, kneeling on the floor, vomiting up a lot of water.

Once finished, he smiled, wiping his face with the clothes of a nearby bodyguard, and approached the woman, “Why the soft heart? Why not kill me?”

“Mom, you love me.”

The woman, Yami, the current Minister of Environmental Protection, raised her hand, the ash from her cigarette resting there for a moment before she extinguished it in Falson’s palm. The burning heat didn’t seem to faze him at all; instead, he smiled back at her, almost in a way that seemed to be seeking approval.

Yami believed that if it weren’t for her orders restricting his behavior, he would likely eat the cigarette butt.

She frowned.

Disgusting, vile creature.

If he weren’t useful, there was no way she’d keep him around for three months.

She waved the bodyguards away, leaving only herself and Falson in the room.

It was already midnight. She walked to the window, gazing at the dark, endless sea, her reflection in the glass showing a face that was warm and approachable.

Orders had quietly come in for her to keep an eye on the ship’s transactions.

These troublesome matters were probably set up by some of the scheming, conniving individuals who saw her as an easy target because of her harmless appearance. Although she wasn’t particularly bothered by such dealings, the people involved were far too stingy and had no use in helping her climb the ranks.

She looked out at the glass, her gaze landing on Falson, who was quietly watching her, her frustration growing.

A perverted, mentally unstable boy—starved for love, his mind twisted.

But her face softened, and she beckoned him to come over.

He obediently walked up to her, kneeling in front of her, tilting his head back to look at her, his hands placed behind his back, his expression both innocent and pitiful.

Yami lightly touched the bruise on his face, her tone soft with mock sympathy, “Mom is just angry, it must hurt, doesn’t it? Sorry, Falson, can you forgive Mom?”

“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have gone on the ship against your will,” he obediently apologized. “Sorry.”

Yami ran her fingers across his frostbitten ear tips, gently touching them.

“You did well today. I have a friend who really wants to meet you. He’s at 672. Change into something nicer and go see him.”

Falson asked in confusion, “The shareholder of ‘Daylight? Does he want to kill me too?”

Yami frowned and slapped hin sharply across the face. Her voice grew cold and stern, “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean.”

Falson, weak, collapsed to the side, covering his face as he muttered, “But I’m still not of age, you never…”

Yami chuckled, crouching down and gently caressing his face with a warm hand, her tone soft, “If you don’t want to do it, then die.”

He fell silent. She observed his expression carefully, trying to find some hint of meaningful pain on his face.

There was nothing.

Yami, uninterested, stood up.

Falson rubbed his eyes and suddenly asked, “Mom, do you love me?”

Yami gave a perfunctory answer, “Of course, I love you.”

He spread his arms wide. “Then hug me.”

He was still wet, but even after a bath, his smell was clean. She didn’t want to touch him.

She took two steps back, turned away, and waved her hand dismissively, “We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m tired today.”

A cold, suffocating presence suddenly closed in, and a sharp pain stabbed into her neck. Her eyes widened in shock.

She grabbed Falson’s hand, but her cries for help were cut off, her throat choking as he drove a small knife deep into her neck. He didn’t stop until he felt her life slip away, and then, with a sigh, he let go.

He dragged her lifeless body to the bathtub, closed her eyes, and then picked out a new outfit from her wardrobe. He knocked on the door of room 672.

A rough hand pulled him inside.

A few minutes later, he emerged, now dressed in clean men’s clothes, walking to the end of the ship, examining his reflection in the glass.

Hair done? Check. Expression good? Check. Clothes a little big, but tolerable? Check.

He sniffed himself.

The bloodstains had dissipated, leaving him smelling fresh.

Perfect.

Even if his new “mother” was dead, he couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

Maybe there was a soul, maybe it was watching.

Thinking back to that selfless young man who had embraced him and died for him, he couldn’t help but smile.

That was such a warm embrace.

He wanted to feel it again.

Having successfully completed his “death” plan and infiltrated the laboratory, Shen Yan sneezed.

The laboratory was indeed cold, as the temperature was kept around fifteen degrees Celsius to slow the decomposition of the bodies.

Thankfully, he was almost done with these work journals.

He hastened his reading, trying to match the details with the author’s notes.

Human modification, gene resetting… Defective product H762.

He pulled out the file on H762 and studied it closely.

H762, real name: Warren Lusendorf, twenty years old, a student at the Federation United School in the Seventh District three years ago, selected to join the human enhancement program.

All the volunteers from his batch had already died, and his mental state had become extremely unstable after three years of experimentation.

After the most recent test, he suddenly went berserk, causing significant damage at the testing facility.

The businessman funding the experimental facility was very displeased. After determining that the subject was no longer capable of producing value, he had the defective specimen transferred to the organizer of the ship’s gathering.

The temporary laboratory aboard the ship had two main purposes: one half was for observing the behavior of creatures with animalistic traits and collecting human samples for research, and the other half was to contain and control Warren.

When he first boarded the ship, he showed no signs of awakening, and everything seemed to run smoothly. However, around 9:30 p.m., for unknown reasons, he opened his eyes and began attempting to destroy the containment equipment. After injecting him with three times the usual dose of sedatives, they barely managed to return him to a dormant state.

After scanning through the detailed records about his abilities and status, Shen Yan copied the relevant files to his terminal, then stretched and stood up.

In the corner, two night-watch researchers, whose mouths he had covered, looked at him with fear and dread.

He approached them, crouching down, and spoke kindly, “What’s there to be afraid of? I’m just a little curious about the disposal of these corpses, just passing through to take a look.”

He drew out a gun and spoke with polite insistence: “I can let you go in a bit, but first, you’ll need to take me to Warren. How about it? Nod if you agree.”

It wasn’t really a choice.

The two researchers exchanged a look, and, frightened, nodded.

Shen Yan chambered the gun and approached them. “You’re one, and you’re two. Listen closely. I’ve already killed quite a few today. I don’t want to add more to the list, understand?”

They hesitated for a moment, then nodded rapidly.

Shen Yan, smiling to himself, thought that he had a real talent for acting as he observed their trembling. “Why aren’t you talking?” he asked, putting the gun away, and scratching his head in apparent frustration. “I’ve said a lot of words. According to the usual routine, you should be ready to be my friends by now.”

The researchers, completely confused, exchanged looks. They didn’t have the courage to insult him, given their desperation.

Researcher Two, more pragmatic, forced a smile. “Of course, friend. Ha-ha.”

Shen Yan smiled too, ignoring how stiff and uncomfortable Researcher Two’s body was, and gave him an affectionate hug.

He then patted both of their shoulders and began to look around, unlocking the cabinet’s passcode lock and changing into a researcher’s outfit that was a better fit.

After letting the two researchers leave, who were physically weak and had only undergone mental modifications, he rummaged through the lab.

He clicked a few things on the workstation, then sent messages from his terminal and took a photo.

Finally, he threw the valuable paper materials into a messy pile, then went outside, set them on fire, and shut the door.

Researchers One and Two exchanged a relieved glance.

The lab had a fire alarm system, but the thief had forgotten about it, meaning the alarm would go off soon, and they would be able to escape.

Shen Yan, with a grin, whispered to the two researchers: “Don’t worry. I’ve had my friend cut off the surveillance and fire alarms. No one will interrupt our time together. I need your help with some tasks related to the experiment.”

The two researchers slowly closed their eyes, fully resigned.

The route from the laboratory to the monster containment area was different from the route when Shen Yan had been guided earlier.

It was faster, mostly thanks to the elevator.

After the day’s elimination competition, many of the cages containing monsters were emptied.

His target was clear. He walked directly to a coffin-like container.

He had only glanced at it before and knew it was made of opaque metal. Upon getting closer, he noticed that the top was transparent, allowing a view of the contents.

Inside the coffin-shaped containment unit lay a tall young man, his limbs bound by flowing liquid, his face covered with a thin greenish liquid mask. The man had a high nose bridge and thin lips.

He looked at the researcher. “Open it.”

The researcher shuddered, “No! If you insist on opening it, it’s better to just kill us!”

Another researcher said, “You must have seen the files. His condition is unstable. We barely managed to put him into a dormant state. If you release him now, we’ll all die!”

Shen Yan pulled out his gun. “Open it.”

The researchers were terrified, but they still refused. Shen Yan remained calm and continued to threaten them until they cried, but they still wouldn’t relent.

Eventually, one of the researchers broke down. “Just kill me!”

Shen Yan looked at him silently for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled, holstered his gun, and grabbed both researchers’ hands with a confused expression.

“I’m the deputy director of the Rose Research Institute in District Seven. I came here to assess how well research staff perform under pressure. Congratulations, you’ve passed the test.”

The researchers were dumbfounded, unsure whether they were being mocked.

The researchers aboard the ship came from various institutes in Districts 13 through 7, with the largest being the Rose Research Institute in District 7.

The Rose Research Institute was the leading institute in research projects across the lower districts and was highly prestigious. Its director and deputy were enigmatic, never showing their faces in public. It was unthinkable for someone like a thief to be associated with such an institution.

Shen Yan seemed oblivious to their skeptical glares. He straightened his back, his previously sinister demeanor transforming into one of calm reliability. With precise fingers, he opened the terminal and showed them the official website of the Rose Research Institute.

After a few seconds, the page switched, and he clicked on the profile page. His photo appeared, alongside the title “Deputy Director.”

The two researchers clicked through the website, verifying the information as they went, stunned by the accuracy.

The Rose Research Institute’s website and video content couldn’t be fabricated, and Shen Yan calmly showed it to them, allowing them to confirm its authenticity.

With this, the two researchers were finally convinced. He continued, “You two showed great character during the test. You didn’t break under pressure, and you maintained your principles. I’m pleased.”

Though they felt guilty for having feared for their lives, the opportunity for advancement was too tempting.

Under his approving gaze, the researchers handed over the access to the monster containment area.

Shen Yan nodded. “Don’t worry, the subject is related to my mission, but due to confidentiality, I can’t explain why I’m releasing him.”

The researchers quickly agreed, “No problem, Director!”

He smiled graciously. “I’ll keep his actions under control. You can leave now. I’ll contact you later.”

The researchers, reassured, quickly left.

Shen Yan walked to the metal coffin and activated his terminal to issue the command.

The machines around the coffin emitted a beeping sound as the tubes and wires connected to it retracted.

The green liquid surrounding the subject began to fade, and the young man inside slowly opened his eyes.

His gaze turned red like dried, dead blood as he looked directly at Shen Yan.

Shen Yan lunged at him, wrapping his arms around him.

The young man didn’t resist; he sensed that he was weak and harmless, without any threat.

He placed his hand on his neck.

Shen Yan, in an emotional outburst, with tears and a quivering voice, said:

“Honey! Don’t you remember me?!”

The man’s hand, capable of crushing human spines, stopped.