Chapter 6: High-Risk Experimental Subject

Jing Rong got up from the wall he was leaning against.

System 626 said, “I can report his coordinates to you. My functions are limited, but I can manage within a five-hundred-meter range; you can continuously track him.”

Jing Rong replied, “I’m counting on you.”

626 skillfully sent the terrain map of the nearby area to Jing Rong’s consciousness.

After years of cooperation, the tacit understanding between 626 and Jing Rong had long been established. While detecting, 626 casually asked, “The incident where your Mental Power was shattered happened many years ago, right?”

It was only after seeing Jing Rong skillfully perform first aid on those people that it remembered this matter.

They had only been cooperating for a short time, and 626 had a strong curiosity about Jing Rong’s past.

Unfortunately, this brother—

“I don’t remember.”

Jing Rong pressed the coordinates, walking while giving the usual reply.

The ground, muddy from both rain and snow, was difficult to traverse, especially while avoiding the Royal Fleet’s air control zone.

The steam rising from the rain had yet to cease.

626 said, “What do you plan to do with him? If you let him go, that alone is enough to take you to a military tribunal.”

After saying this, 626 fell silent.

Talking about the military tribunal of this world with this brother?

“I’m not sure.”

Slightly better than what 626 had thought, Jing Rong still remembered the Executor’s code; his voice remained very calm: “At the very least, I want to be present when he dies.”

In the current world, Jing Rong had yet to take action; the world’s logic still operated as it originally did.

The timeline did not favor Jue; Jue was about to become history.

Captured on the battlefield at the age of six, Jue was sent back to the imperial capital’s laboratory, where he lived for thirteen years. No one knew what he did during that time, and by the time he escaped, he had become the last leader of the rebellion.

The former leader had been killed years ago, and the rebel organization had long since been reduced to scattered forces. Jue’s appearance was a flicker of light in the dark history of the Sin Island rebellion, while the ones who would end this chapter of history, Laines and Joson, would be forever recorded in the annals.

Laines became fearless in the face of death, bravely leading the army and killing SSS-class monsters with far superior Mental Power. Joson, as the representative of the medical team, would become the kind and warm princess, and he would propose the “Kind Treatment of Sin Island People Act,” becoming the heart of the empire, forever pure and shining.

But something was overlooked.

Jing Rong said, “Something was overlooked.”

626 raised that question again: “What did Jue come back to take?”

“And every person on this land has a blood feud with him, yet he hasn’t killed a single one. Those who were injured were all hurt by weapon explosions.”

“Let’s go take a look.” Jing Rong lit the half cigarette, simply deciding on the next course of action.

The orientation of the coordinates in his mind became increasingly clear.

This coordinate, along with the locator on Jue, sent precise coordinates to the military every five minutes.

The military had urgently changed their combat plan, redirecting all firepower to the area.

“Damn it, where the hell is he going?”

The military radio was filled with the anxious curses of various officers, “The encirclement isn’t working at all, and His Highness Laines has also lost contact…”

“They said the Adjudicator squad led by Prince Lyons was completely wiped out this morning! That experimental subject shattered everyone’s Mental Domains! The medical teams are critically short-handed!”

The frontline situation was far worse than anyone had anticipated.

The general roared, “Who the hell can we still contact? Are you sure that experimental subject only has two S-ratings? Our people can’t even get near him! Can we reach Master Joson?”

“Reporting, General… we can’t reach him either…”

The communications soldier grew increasingly panicked as he read the coordinates from the radio, “The experimental subject… it’s heading toward Ork Square now!”

The general clenched his teeth and slammed his fist heavily on the table.

“There’s no other way! We have to activate that weapon!”

*

Meanwhile, 626 was rapidly searching through world data. Even it hesitated when reaching this location.

“Ork Square is a completely ordinary place. Built at the intersection between Ork Palace and the four major districts, it’s where everyone passes through—nobles and commoners, upper and lower districts alike.”

“Its enormous size and complete lack of nearby cover make it perfect for saturation bombardment and precision strikes.”

Jing Rong said, “This is suicide.”

626 agreed, “Undoubtedly suicide. But with his abilities, he could have escaped. Why choose death?”

The two outsiders’ questions carried an unsettling calm.

Jue brought the scorching rain to Ork Square.

This plaza had been jointly constructed by various warlords when the Ork Empire was founded, each faction responsible for one statue as tribute to this great land.

The statue belonging to Sin Island’s warlords had long been erased—completely, without a trace—only a faint line of ancient Ork Inscriptions remained at its base, words so old that no one in the city remembered them anymore.

Not even Jue himself remembered.

He’d been sent to battle at six years old. No one had taught him his homeland’s script.

He paused briefly before the absent statue, then looked up at the sky.

The burning rain had cleared the capital’s smog completely, leaving the air pristine.

Jue wanted a cigarette, but there were none. Abandoning this small hope, he sat down quietly instead.

Above, Ork’s most lethal Mental Weapons were assembling—row upon row of gray launch towers shaped like dangerous inverted triangles. No one knew what would emerge from them.

“The military’s high-risk Mental Weapon,” 626’s voice paused briefly, “They call it… the Adjudicator.”

Jing Rong quickened his pace, asking, “What does it do?”

“Completely scatters a person’s psyche, annihilating their consciousness.” 626 explained, “The damage is irreversible. If Jue’s mind and consciousness are destroyed, he’ll die completely. You must be careful too—if your consciousness shatters, neither of us can return.”

“I know.”

Jing Rong slowed his steps and stopped.

He was twenty meters from Ork Square.

The first “Adjudicator” launched.

The air vibrated with a deep hum as a black, scepter-like Mental Construct shot forth—no flames, no sound, yet encountering no resistance either.

The black scepter delivered its judgment in the torrential rain, and the verdict was singular: death.  

Three seconds later, a shockwave erupted from the central square, sweeping everything in its path, carrying away the scalding downpour.  

Snow began to fall once more.  

Jing Rong arrived at Ork Square.  

He saw Jue lying at the center of the square, the black scepter piercing through his chest, pinning him firmly to the ground.  

Blood seeped slowly from beneath the scepter, though there wasn’t much left.  

By now, after the long journey here, Jue’s blood had nearly run dry.  

Jue’s body trembled violently, like a small animal in its death throes, even his beautiful hair—once the color of molten gold and twilight—had dulled considerably.  

Only his bloodstained, serene, and fathomless blue eyes remained calm as they gazed at Jing Rong.  

He must have been in excruciating pain.  

Perhaps because of it, he had no intention of speaking, but when he saw Adjudicator No. 11 again, he smiled faintly.  

The moment Jue opened his mouth, blood surged uncontrollably from his lips.  

But Jing Rong heard his words.  

Jue said, “Got a smoke?”  

It wasn’t a request, but a question. He didn’t hold this deranged Adjudicator No. 11 in any regard—Jue hadn’t held anyone in regard since he was six. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have become the leader of Sin Island’s rebellion.  

The last leader.  

The half-smoked cigarette in Jing Rong’s hand was nearly burnt out. He lit a fresh one and placed it between Jue’s lips.  

But Jue could no longer hold it.  

Jing Rong set the bloodied cigarette beside him and leaned down to study his eyes intently. “Any last wishes? I can fulfill them for you.”  

For an executor, these words were already crossing a line.  

But the man dying before him possessed the two most beautiful colors in the world.  

Jue smiled again, his expression unchanging, as if to say there was nothing left he needed others to do for him.  

The heavy snow slowly blanketed the ground.  

Jue closed his eyes, carefully considering, then solemnly decided on his final words.  

“I want to go to Oakvilleke.”  

“After I die.”  

“Oakvilleke… where is that?” Jing Rong murmured.  

But Jue didn’t answer. His breathing had grown faint, his consciousness slipping away.  

“What did you take from the laboratory archives?”  

This question, too, was met with silence, leaving only the sound of falling snow. Jue was determined to take all his secrets to the grave.  

626: “He has two minutes left to live.”  

626: “He’s not the Child of the World. If you have any personal feelings, end him here. Spare him the suffering.”  

Jing Rong lowered his head. Jue’s eyes were already closed, his life force draining rapidly, the molten gold and twilight hues of his hair buried beneath the snow.  

And those blue eyes—they would never be seen again.  

Jing Rong reached out, brushing the snow from his hair with a gentle touch.  

Then he stood, gripping the black scepter. His hand was steady, careful not to disturb Jue’s wound.  

The Adjudicator was pitch-black, a pure construct of consciousness.  

The moment Jing Rong touched it, he knew—it was born from the collective will to kill, forged by generations of the highest Adjudicators.  

This killing intent sensed his touch and surged toward him, delivering judgment upon the black-haired, black-eyed young man.  

Jing Rong ignored its verdict.

From the void, Jing Rong retrieved his Executor Weapon: it was a weapon of stark contrast, its pristine silver light piercing through the surrounding darkness.

It was also a scepter—though “scepter” might be too grand a term. More accurately, it was a rod, entirely silver-white, devoid of any ornamentation or patterns, save for the power flowing through it like the Milky Way and stars.

626 said, “I see it now. He truly possesses the two most beautiful colors in the universe.”

626 added, “If someone this stunning isn’t the Child of the World, then what’s wrong with this world?”

Jing Rong murmured, “The world has always been this way.”

With a sweep of his hand, the “Adjudicator” shattered instantly, black dust billowing and covering the surroundings.

Before Jing Rong could speak, 626 had already deployed his medical skills, swiftly mending the wounds on Jue’s body.

Jing Rong remained gazing at the sky. In that moment, 626 sensed the fierce, surging winds around him—the familiar Executor had returned.

The thunderous roars in the sky didn’t cease; the air itself seemed to boil. Perhaps fearing the High-Risk Experimental Subject hadn’t been thoroughly eradicated, the heavens sent down a second, then a third “Adjudicator.”

Jing Rong raised his hand and flicked it casually, shattering all the “Adjudicators” in an instant!

Then he looked down, lifting Jue into his arms and cradling him against his chest.

The gaping wound in Jue’s chest had been repaired, and the bleeding had stopped, but his breathing remained so faint it was nearly imperceptible.

626 exclaimed excitedly, “Dude, the worldline’s gone haywire! We’re gonna have to write a self-criticism when we get back—might even end up in the Cosmic Enforcement Bureau’s prison! I’ve never been to the Cosmic Enforcement Bureau’s prison before!”

A genuine hint of amusement flickered in Jing Rong’s eyes. “Neither have I. Heard their cells have smoke.”