Professor Ji, noticing their awkward pride as straight men, reassured them, “It’s fine. If used properly, beast-like transformations can actually give you extra abilities.”

For example, mimicking claws allows one to scratch enemies. If one gains feline paw pads, they can jump from great heights without injury, just like cats.

A tail could help with balance or even be used as a weapon.

Like a crocodile’s tail.

Professor Ji spoke seriously, “You should try to choose an alien core that best matches your own physique. Regular ability users can’t handle multiple alien core injections—five is the absolute limit.”

But he advised not to exceed three, suggesting they select the most compatible ones among them. Once chosen, they should stick to those injections.

Otherwise, their bodies would explode.

“You’ve probably noticed another issue: after receiving an alien core injection, you temporarily gain the ability to mimic body parts like mutants do. Because of this, the injection is useless to mutants, but they can level up by consuming diluted alien core solutions. However, we’ve discovered a new problem.”

Professor Ji solemnly clicked to the next PPT slide, revealing a video.

In it, a lizard-like man screamed in agony, his expression twisted in madness. As he raged, he pleaded, “I don’t want to lose my mind! Save me!” His despair was overwhelming.

In the end, he completely lost his sanity and had to be put down.

“No matter if you’re an ability user or a mutant, when the virus load in your body gets too high, you’ll lose your mind. That’s why ability users must never take shortcuts by directly consuming alien cores or injecting too much diluted solution at once.”

Professor Ji emphasized the severity of this issue, warning them to remember it well—otherwise, they’d turn into terrifying, mindless monsters.

The mood grew heavy.

Qin Luo and his teammates weren’t worried about themselves. Instead, they turned to look at Xu Duoduo.

The little zombie was staring at the PPT, watching the video of the lizard-man’s agonized cries, his desperate pleas to live, his fear of losing control.

It was hard not to feel a sense of dread—what if this happened to her one day?

Professor Ji noticed their concern and chuckled, “I didn’t expect your squad to be so close. Don’t worry, as long as you control it well, mutants won’t turn into monsters so quickly. Remember our base’s principles? We never surrender to the apocalypse. We never abandon any human. No one will abandon you.”

His last sentence was directed at Xu Duoduo.

She looked at him, and his warm smile was strangely reassuring. She nodded—she was willing to believe in these hardworking researchers.

Professor Ji then grinned at Qin Luo and his teammates. “So, how about it? Want to try an alien core dilution injection? It won’t kill you as long as you stay within the safe dosage.”

The side effects were just a little unpleasant.

And the medicine was rare.

Qin Luo and his three teammates exchanged glances.

You look at me, I look at you.

In the end, they resigned themselves and nodded.

What else could they do?

They had to keep up. Otherwise, if their strength fell behind, survival in the apocalypse would be impossible.

They watched a 17-year-old girl, who had never served in the military, crush a two-star mutant lizard’s head with a single kick.

Meanwhile, they had been training relentlessly since the start of the apocalypse, and still struggled against two-star mutants.

If they didn’t close this gap, they’d get left in the dust—crushed by the new generation.

Professor Ji, satisfied with their response, pulled out several locked cases. “Come, take a look at what I’ve prepared for you.”

Since he understood them well, he had already selected the most suitable diluted alien core injections for them.

He had just been teasing them.

He knew they’d accept—how could the formidable, combat-obsessed 3A Squad ever allow themselves to be surpassed?

Grumbling, Qin Luo and the others took their respective injections and left to find someone to administer them.

Chen Xiaofei was still mumbling, “Ugh, I hope I don’t grow an eagle’s head. That’d be so ugly! I’d rather have eagle feet than turn into a bird-brain!”

Xu Duoduo stayed behind in the conference room, waiting for them to return. She swayed in anticipation—though she couldn’t take the injections, Professor Ji had given her a box of twelve bottles of alien core dilution.

“These are strawberry-flavored. A little girl like you should like them. They’re made from a one-star mutated flower core—drink some when you have time, it’ll help boost your strength.”

Xu Duoduo didn’t dare tell him that she had been eating alien cores like candy. Instead, she obediently typed 【Thank you】on her tablet and put the dilution away.

Professor Ji smiled and nodded, then turned his attention to another combat team that had just arrived, ready to answer their questions.

Just then, someone peeked into the room, eyes landing on Xu Duoduo—specifically, the collar around her neck.

Feeling uncomfortable, she instinctively touched her collar. Her mood dropped.

She even bared her teeth at him in irritation.

“Pfft, so this is 3A Squad’s new recruit? She’s just a pretty face. I don’t get why Captain Qin took her in.”

Professor Ji immediately scolded him, “Did you feed your manners to a dog?”

The man gave a half-hearted apology. “Ah, sorry, sorry. I just speak my mind.”

Little zombie was about to get angry!

Just as she was about to storm over and beat the hell out of him—maybe even take out her chainsaw—

The next second, the burly man went flying.

Yes, flying.

A faint crackle of electricity flickered through the air.

And a familiar scent—refreshing mint and fruity candy!

Xu Duoduo’s eyes widened.

Outside, Qin Luo’s voice rang out—arrogant and explosive.

“What kind of stray cat or dog thinks they can talk shit about my squad members? Who the hell do you think you are?”

Professor Ji gasped in excitement. “Damn, kid, you adapted that fast? Not even ten minutes? Most people take two to three hours, some even ten! You’re incredible! Quick, let’s go measure your ability level!”

Qin Luo waved him off. “You go ahead, I’ll catch up later.”

Professor Ji patted his shoulder with a grin. “Alright, I’ll be waiting—don’t take too long.”

He then hurried off, thrilled.

Qin Luo had once again exceeded expectations—adapting quickly meant better absorption, and that meant limitless potential!

As for the beaten man?

Professor Ji didn’t care.

Not only did he deserve it, but ability users weren’t that fragile. He’d live—just hurt for a few days.

The real priority was Qin Luo.

Qin Luo stepped into the conference room and immediately started lecturing Xu Duoduo.

“You let people talk shit about you and just sit there pouting? If someone insults you, fight back! I’ll back you up, so beat them however you want.”

He was still feeling woozy from the injection, his whole body burning up. He had just left the clinic when he heard some idiot mouthing off and got pissed.

Little zombie felt wronged—she was just about to fight back, but he got there first!

But as soon as she saw him, all her anger vanished.

Because—

Due to the heat, Qin Luo was only wearing a black tank top. His toned chest and arms were fully on display. His defined muscles, slim waist, and long legs in combat pants and black boots made him look ridiculously good.

And—

On top of his head, two fluffy gray ears had sprouted.

Big. Dog.

Little zombie stared.

Qin Luo grumbled, scolding her for being an easy target.

“You’re already small. If you keep getting bullied, you’ll look even more pathetic. Whatever, just stick with me. Wherever I go, you go. Got it?”

His voice was firm—except for his flushed face, betraying his embarrassment.

But little zombie wasn’t listening anymore.

She reached out and tugged his tank top, making him bend down—or else it’d turn into a deep V-neck!

Then—

She grabbed his ears.

“Oooh!!”

Qin Luo turned beet red.

His wolf tail wagged involuntarily.

Little zombie gasped and tackled it.

A jolt shot up his spine.

Shit.

He had completely forgotten about the mimicking effect.