Chapter Fifty-Nine: I Am the Mole

“My goodness, you’re getting more and more outrageous with your games.”

“Huh?”

Luo Rao, startled out of her sleep by the sudden removal of her blanket, was still groggy and panicked until she saw it was Ji Cheng. At once, her face broke into a sweet smile.

“A-Cheng, you’re back! I missed you so much, come here and let your sister hug you!”

Ji Cheng tossed the blanket back over her and, without missing a beat, grabbed one of his shirts and shoved it under as well.

“Mm, I’m back,” he said, clearing his throat.

Luo Rao tilted her head, a sly smile curling her lips as she stretched lazily beneath the covers, her gaze lingering on Ji Cheng—her bright eyes both teasing and alluring.

“A-Cheng, I missed you so much that I couldn’t sleep all night. I finally managed to drift off, only for you to wake me up again. How are you going to make this up to me?”

Ji Cheng glanced at her. She truly had no idea just how enchanting she was.

Two headaches in one, he thought.

He slipped his hands nonchalantly into his pockets and paced a few steps.

“Hmm… I’ll buy you your favorite Skimoo ice pop.”

“A-Cheng, you’ve got powers now, you live in this big house, and you’re going to fob off your adorable sister with just a single ice pop?”

Luo Rao suddenly stretched her legs out from under the blanket, nudging him gently several times. “Doesn’t your conscience bother you?”

“Ow, ow, ow!” Ji Cheng sucked in a sharp breath at the pain.

“I don’t care, you can’t just brush this off so easily.” Luo Rao laid her slender, fair legs right in front of him, refusing to let him off.

“Sorry, sis. How was I supposed to know you hadn’t slept? And I didn’t know you were napping in my room. I looked for you everywhere and got a bit anxious—check the security footage if you don’t believe me.”

“Fine, let’s just leave it at that,” Luo Rao pouted with a soft humph.

“You’re not mad anymore?” Ji Cheng asked in surprise.

“Come here and let me give you a beating,” Luo Rao said plaintively, gazing at him beneath a cascade of tousled hair, looking as fragile and lovely as a dewdrop.

“Hm?”

“Come a bit closer.”

“Mmm… mmm…” Ji Cheng widened his eyes, letting out a comfortable purr.

“A-Cheng, you’re quite sensitive, aren’t you?” Luo Rao bit her lip, giggling softly.

“Is that really the issue?” Ji Cheng retorted.

“Then what is it?” Luo Rao’s delicate face wore just the right touch of confusion, making her even more captivating.

“The main problem is that the door’s wide open,” Ji Cheng said, gesturing toward it.

He hadn’t closed it when he came in.

“What, close it so your secretary can hear your wails?” Luo Rao beamed a sweet, innocent smile, but her tone was anything but. “Little brother, even if you scream yourself hoarse today, no one’s coming to save you.”

Ji Cheng felt himself sinking into a cloud of softness.

The wind that had somehow blown into the room set the bedcovers fluttering wildly, and it was more than an hour before the commotion finally died down.

…

“By the way, sis, did the package I ordered online arrive?” Ji Cheng dragged himself wearily out of bed. “Should be a big box from the looks of it.”

“Oh, it arrived. I put it over there,” Luo Rao said, pointing to a silver combination case resting in the corner.

“What is it, anyway?”

Ji Cheng walked over, picked up the case, and set it down on the sofa. “It’s a set of gene prototypes I bought for you.”

“You’re compatible with gene prototypes too. Now that we have the money, it’s best to get you injected as soon as possible.”

Luo Rao stretched a fair arm from under the covers, rubbing her eyes. “A gene prototype is just a tiny vial though, isn’t it? It felt so heavy when I carried it in.”

“I bought ten.” Ji Cheng grinned at her over his shoulder.

“Why so many?”

Ji Cheng pressed his thumb against the case’s lock. “I don’t trust the local knock-offs, and the store wouldn’t let me choose individually. So I bought ten at once—this way, at least one or two will be genuine, straight from the Empire’s Ministry of Industry.”

Click—the lock opened.

Black velvet lined the case, and ten exquisitely crafted vials were arranged in neat rows within, exuding the unmistakable aura of wealth.

“This whole batch cost me over ten million.”

Ji Cheng picked up a vial. It felt smooth and weighty in his palm; inside, a silvery liquid swirled with mist that condensed and vanished continuously.

Spinning it in his hand, he noticed an etched label inside the glass:

BUIY-1094-1302-762H

A knock-off.

Ji Cheng set the vial aside and checked another from the case.

In the end, only two vials sat before him: one grass green, one pure black.

“These two were manufactured by the Empire before the blackout. Pick one,” he said, holding them up before Luo Rao.

She pointed to the left, smiling radiantly. “Then I’ll take the black one. I’m afraid the green will turn me into a frog princess.”

It won’t change your blood color… Ji Cheng thought, but didn’t argue. She’d made her choice.

“Actually, a pure black gene prototype like this could be quite good. Let’s see how your luck holds.”

He lifted the lining in the case, revealing a set of injection tools at the bottom.

“Wait a moment, sis.”

He left that with her and walked to the other side of the room, retrieving a standard toolkit and getting busy.

Soon, he returned with an IV catheter and a new needle.

Unscrewing the vial’s cap, he filled a syringe with a third of the liquid.

“Throw on some clothes and come down for your shot.”

Ji Cheng stood by the bed, gazing at Luo Rao with a predatory look.

“Was there something wrong with the other needle?” Luo Rao leaned against the headboard, her chin propped on her palm, a bare shoulder exposed.

Ji Cheng raised the catheter.

“Not exactly. It’s just that a single, crude injection would hurt a lot. I’ll do a deep vein puncture instead, so you can absorb the prototype over three days. The effect is the same.”

Luo Rao chuckled. “You weren’t so worried about hurting me just now.”

Ji Cheng was momentarily speechless.

“It’s fine. Your sister’s not afraid of pain—go ahead, be as rough as you want.” Luo Rao acted entirely unconcerned.

“You said it—so here I go?”

This time, Ji Cheng drew up the whole dose.

He tapped the syringe, collected the bubbles at the tip, and pushed out a little liquid to clear the air.

Gene prototypes were formulated with a little extra, so wasting a bit didn’t matter.

“A-Cheng, you look like a doctor right now.”

“I keep telling you, stop watching those weird movies.”

Luo Rao lay still on the bed, so Ji Cheng just wiped the spot with an alcohol swab and pressed the needle to her neck.

A quick, practiced push, and the needle sank into her pale skin.

“Take a deep breath, then don’t exhale until I’m done.”

Luo Rao obediently inhaled, then winked at him.

The gene prototype in the syringe diminished slowly, seeping into her body. Ji Cheng, worried about hurting her, pushed it very slowly. Yet after two minutes, Luo Rao still began trembling and convulsing uncontrollably. Ji Cheng held her hand, continuing to press the plunger with the other.

“Relax, relax, I’ll go even slower.”

…

“Huff, huff—not painful at all.” Luo Rao, face flushed, hung on Ji Cheng like a lazy sloth, panting softly.

Ji Cheng: “Then why were you shaking so much just now?”

Luo Rao: “You told me not to breathe, and you were so slow about it.”

Ji Cheng: “Fine, let’s see what prototype you got.”

Luo Rao burrowed under the covers for some time, then popped her head out. “I grew a few little bird feathers!”

“That’s normal. Once you awaken as an ability user, they’ll disappear. Let me see.”

Luo Rao giggled and lifted the blanket.

“Oh—a Phoenix.” Ji Cheng laughed awkwardly.

This was a bird species native to extremely cold, acidic planets, famed for its resilience to radiation and harsh environments, hence called the Phoenix.

A decent support-type prototype, with great potential for future injections. Ji Cheng couldn’t recall the exact data.

He opened his wrist computer and searched the database.

[Gene Prototype: Phoenix]
[Muscle Tissue Strength: 205 (theoretical)]
[Neural Reflex Speed: 330 (theoretical)]
[Cell Activity: 2450 (theoretical)]
[Nangang Research Institute Assessment: Well suited for mining work]

All things considered, the Phoenix gene prototype wasn’t outstanding, but far from poor.

Its strengths were environmental resistance and compatibility with many second-tier prototypes.

Its weakness was a lack of combat enhancement; all the bodily modifications focused on cellular activity.

But for a first-tier prototype, combat ability wasn’t a big deal—she could always inject a combat-oriented one when advancing.

After thinking it through, Ji Cheng smiled. “Since you’ve got this prototype, you’re coming with me this time.”

“Where to?” Luo Rao brightened instantly.

“A place called the Hive Lab. With the Phoenix’s extreme environmental adaptability and cellular activity, you’ll be fine in the wild, even without abilities.”

He’d be gone at least a dozen days this trip. Although Councilor Yao was also leaving Nangang New City, after that scare earlier, Ji Cheng didn’t feel comfortable leaving Luo Rao home alone.

Better safe than sorry. With her by his side, Councilor Yao wouldn’t dare make a move in front of so many ability users.

“Alright, that’s settled. Sis, head to the training room next door, turn on the gravity well, and get used to high-gravity conditions. I’ve got a few things to handle, I’ll join you soon.”

Once Luo Rao had left, Ji Cheng pulled out the communicator he’d gotten from Zeng Hang, marked with the overlapping black arc symbol.

Rectangular, with a button on the side and a screen in the middle—it had a distinctly retro look.

This was the Black Isle Organization’s internal communicator.

Just last month, the City Defense Department had snagged a lead on Black Isle, set a trap, and ultimately acquired this device.

According to Zeng Hang, the City Defense’s criminal investigation team had done all the preliminary work—now it was his turn to reap the rewards.

“Say what you will, Black Isle does have technical chops. With a city the size of Nangang, they still can’t manage ultra-long-distance comms in this high-radiation environment.”

Ji Cheng marveled as he turned on the communicator. Instantly, the screen filled with a flurry of chat messages.

He scrolled to the very top, found a contact named “Thorn,” and typed carefully:

“Reporting to the organization: I am the mole.”