Chapter 23
No one responded to the canary’s question.
That was because the two little cubs on the sofa were locked in a fierce battle.
Or rather, the green-scaled viper was effortlessly dominating the little fox. The difference between an S-class and an A-class mutant was undeniable—just the tip of the viper’s tail was enough to pin the fox in place.
Earlier, the little fox had managed to put up a decent fight, but that was only because the viper hadn’t been taking it seriously.
Now, completely immobilized, the fox was fuming, nearly bristling with rage. “Just wait! When I fully evolve, I’ll definitely reach S-class!”
This wasn’t just an empty boast.
As a higher-level mutant, the viper could clearly sense the energy fluctuations within the little fox. At this rate, it wouldn’t take more than a month for the fox to complete its evolution.
However, if the fox thought that reaching S-class would put them on equal footing, it was far too naive.
The viper let out a sneering laugh, effortlessly lifting the little fox and giving it a shake. “S-class? Ha! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been at S-class? If you want to challenge me, try again in twenty years.”
Saying this, the viper suddenly fell into thought.
After some quick calculations, it realized that its own evolution timeline wasn’t much different from the little fox’s.
But they weren’t from the same batch of modified mutants.
Could it be that the aura of Number One had been so strong that it had accelerated their collective growth?
The viper pondered for a moment but couldn’t come to a conclusion. In the end, it shook its head and dismissed the thought.
Evolving sooner meant ridding themselves of genetic instability earlier, which was undoubtedly a good thing for any mutant.
Though there was no rank beyond S-class, the viper was confident that once it fully evolved, it would become even stronger. In fact, it was looking forward to it.
“Waaah, Jiujiu—”
Feeling utterly defeated, the little fox burst into tears and threw itself into the canary’s arms, seeking comfort.
The canary quickly caught it, gently soothing the trembling creature.
Just because he hadn’t interfered didn’t mean he wasn’t concerned. He knew the viper was only playing around and had no intention of actually hurting the fox.
For mutants, avoiding harm was instinctual. If the little fox had truly felt threatened, it would have kept its distance long ago.
As the canary stroked the soft fur on the back of the fox’s neck, he felt an unexpected sense of relief.
It was almost unbelievable.
Before meeting Wen Xin, his insecure, doubtful self would have immediately assumed that the viper was bullying the little fox.
Meanwhile, the viper felt no guilt whatsoever for teasing the fox, watching with amusement as the small pink creature whimpered in its nest of feathers.
After a while, the viper vaguely recalled that the canary had asked something earlier. “What did you say again?”
The canary repeated his question.
This time, the viper raised its chin and sneered. “Do you think Wen Xin is stupid?”
Leaving everything else aside, just watching how Number One reacted during his genetic instability episodes was enough to tell that something was clearly off.
However, the canary completely misinterpreted the viper’s response, assuming that Wen Xin had already figured everything out.
For a brief moment, he froze—then, suddenly, his heart surged with joy and excitement. It was as if fireworks had exploded inside him, lighting up his eyes with happiness.
For so long, the canary had carried the weight of guilt. Wen Xin had treated them with such genuine sincerity, yet they had kept so much from him.
The canary stiffly glanced toward the bedroom. He hadn’t spoken very loudly earlier, so he wasn’t sure if Wen Xin had overheard.
Since there hadn’t been any commotion from inside, it was probably—maybe—hopefully fine.
Turning back, he lowered his voice and asked, “So Wen Xin doesn’t know we’re mutants?”
The viper wasn’t particularly familiar with human customs, but even it understood that hiding something this big would probably make people angry—kind of like when it had secretly eaten Wen Xin’s snacks.
Its previously confident demeanor faltered, and it spoke with much less certainty. “Of course, he doesn’t know. Do you want him to be afraid of us?”
The canary opened his mouth but hesitated, struggling to find the right words. After a moment, he asked, “So Wen Xin also doesn’t know that we’re here because we need to borrow Number One’s aura to evolve?”
At this, the viper bristled.
“Don’t make it sound like we’re doing something shady. Even if Number One leaves, I’ll still stay with Wen Xin.”
The canary wasn’t convinced. He cut straight to the point. “If Number One wasn’t here, would you have approached Wen Xin in the first place?”
The viper faltered.
Without Number One’s presence, if it had encountered a human—especially one it found repulsive and detestable—there was no way it would have willingly gotten close. It wouldn’t even have considered them as food.
The little fox had never thought about this before, mostly because Wen Xin had never forced it to.
Seeing the serious expressions on the viper and the canary, the fox finally realized that something wasn’t right.
In a small voice, it said, “But Wen Xin knows we came here to find someone, right? So it’s okay… isn’t it?”
Hearing this, the canary’s tense expression relaxed slightly.
But the viper’s face only grew more troubled.
The canary and the others had legitimate reasons for being here. The viper didn’t.
Trying to understand human emotions was far too complicated for the viper, so it could only imagine the situation from its own perspective.
Wen Xin had taken them in, likely seeing them as companions. As long as they didn’t cause trouble or challenge his authority, he would probably be happy to keep them around.
But what if their loyalty to Wen Xin was just an act?
What if, in reality, they were only here because of Number One?
The viper’s face darkened.
This was bad.
The more it thought about it, the angrier it became. If someone had tricked it, it would have bitten them on the spot!
This realization left the viper deeply troubled.
If Wen Xin found out the truth and got so angry that he tried to bite it, should it dodge?
If it dodged, Wen Xin might get even angrier. But if it didn’t, would Wen Xin break his fragile human teeth?
Seeing the viper’s increasingly dejected expression, the canary couldn’t bring himself to ask any more questions.
He took a deep breath, raised a trembling hand, and covered his face, feeling as though the future looked bleak.
The viper, growing more anxious by the second, felt even more stressed by the canary’s reaction.
Trying to sound nonchalant, it snorted. “It’s not a big deal. So what if we’re hiding it?”
“Besides, Wen Xin isn’t like other humans. Even if he finds out we’re mutants, he’ll still accept us.”
At these words, the canary quietly looked up.
Even the little fox turned to glance at the viper.
The viper stammered, “W-what? Did I say something wrong?”
The little fox softly replied, “Would you dare show Wen Xin your true form?”
Mutants that had undergone genetic modification were no longer within the realm of normal animals.
For example, a typical green-scaled viper in the wild would be considered impressive if it grew to 80 centimeters. But the viper here was a full seven meters long.
If it used its tail for support, it could stand taller than a two-story building.
The viper took pride in its true form and was about to protest—
Until the canary reminded it, “I heard that when ten human interns first entered the base, five of them cried when they saw you, three fainted, and the last two tried to break down the door to escape.”
The viper fell silent.
Embarrassed and furious, it growled, “Fine! I wouldn’t dare show my true form. But would any of you?”
The little fox blinked, wagging its fluffy tail. “I would. I’ve always been in my true form. My fur hasn’t even changed color.”
The viper turned to the canary.
The canary cleared his throat. “I currently appear as a canary.”
A small, harmless, cute bird—often kept as a pet.
The viper let out a loud sigh, unable to bring itself to ask Number One if it dared to reveal its true form.
Instead, it turned toward the balcony—only to see the little blue walrus climbing out of its water basin, an unusual occurrence.
Strangely, although the water in the basin rippled with the walrus’s movements, not a single drop clung to its body. Only its paws were slightly damp.
By the time it reached them, even that little bit of moisture had disappeared, leaving the floor completely dry.
Seeing this, the viper narrowed its eyes.
This A-class walrus had always felt… off.
As an S-class mutant, the viper should have easily dominated anything below its level, yet it instinctively didn’t want to provoke the little blue walrus.
That didn’t make sense.
Mutants naturally suppressed those of lower ranks—it was an instinct deeply imprinted in their genes.
For the little blue walrus to intimidate the viper, it would have to be S-class. But the viper could clearly sense that its energy was only at A-class.
Was it masking its true strength?
The little fox, uninterested in overthinking, perked up at the sight of the walrus finally leaving the basin and curiously asked, “Blue, why are you out of the water?”
The little blue walrus spoke slowly. “Something’s happening.”
The little fox tilted its head. “What’s happening?”
“The humans in this city… their presence is rapidly disappearing.”
The canary furrowed his brow. “What do you mean by that?”
Meanwhile, in Wen Xin’s bedroom.
The black cat, which had been napping on Wen Xin’s lap, suddenly opened its eyes, staring intently in one direction.
“What’s wrong?”
Noticing the shift, Wen Xin handed the rest of the rope to the purple squirrel and asked curiously.
Before he could get an answer, his phone screen suddenly lit up with a notification.
“An emergency alert has been issued to all residents of G City!”
The bold red text immediately caught Wen Xin’s attention, filling him with a deep sense of unease.
Before he could even tap to read it, a sharp siren blared from outside.
A police car? An ambulance? A firetruck?
…No.
Wen Xin listened carefully, and his heart sank.
It was the citywide emergency alarm.
