Chapter 15: High-Risk Experimental Subject  

Jing Rong said, “Alright.”  

Jue gazed at him for a while longer, then brushed his fingers against Jing Rong’s cheek. But instead of kissing his lips, he pressed a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth, cherishing the moment. Then, just like the day before, he nestled against Jing Rong’s chest and fell asleep.  

The horses pulled them through the blizzard.  

The skids were much faster than wheels, and by midday the next day, they had already passed through four towns and left the most prosperous regions of the Ork Empire behind.  

626: “Visibility is low, but there’s a settlement ahead. I’m not sure what it is. I’m doing my best to steer the horses, but they’re exhausted. Should we stop and rest?”  

Jing Rong held Jue and unfolded the map.  

Jue had been sleeping lightly and opened his eyes, looking at the map in Jing Rong’s hands.  

Since their departure, Jing Rong had been using his own observations and 626’s survey data to correct the map’s routes and markers, including the War Train’s tracks and new terrain.  

Jing Rong said, “We can stop and rest ahead. The old map doesn’t list the name of the town up front, but it should be called Jieke Town. Does that ring any bells?”  

Jue parted his lips as if to speak but remained silent.  

Jing Rong didn’t mind. He reached out and ruffled Jue’s hair. “We’ll rest there.”  

Jue murmured softly, “I’m sorry, but there’s very little I can say about my homeland. Even to you, Brother.”  

Jing Rong kept his hand resting gently on Jue’s head, unfazed. “I know.”  

It was only then that 626 found an entry about Jieke Town in its system directory: “That’s a Sin Island… a settlement for war criminals from the Isle of Blazing Fire. Most of them were captured and transported there, working under Ork military supervision on rear-line farming, forging, and cultivation projects. The majority are adults, while the children were sent to the capital’s laboratories.”  

626 continued, “The people here don’t have the means to join rebel organizations, but this was likely one of Jue’s key contact points. It’s the closest supply stop for the War Train near the Ork capital. Probably connected to multiple incidents in the Sin Island rebellion history.”  

Jing Rong said, “I figured as much.”  

626 added, “But that was in the past. The rebel forces from the Isle of Blazing Fire have been nearly wiped out.”  

The horse-drawn sled gradually came to a stop at the town’s entrance.  

Jing Rong jumped off the sled and turned to help Jue down, taking his hand.  

Jue adjusted his cape hood and followed quietly behind him.  

Before them lay a snow-covered, rudimentary town. At the entrance, rows of supply sleds were parked, waiting to deliver goods to the nearest War Train outpost.  

A few Ork soldiers stood guard at the gate. Spotting the unfamiliar, striking pair, they dutifully stopped them.  

“Sir, hello. Please present your documents.”  

Jing Rong handed over his travel pass.  

For this trip, he hadn’t brought his Adjudicator credentials, opting instead for a certificate from the Travel and Exploration Association.  

The Ork soldier took the document without suspicion but asked curiously, “What’s the Travel and Exploration Association? The warzone is just west of here. Are you really traveling to a place like this?”

Jing Rong said, “We’ll survey the geological conditions first, then categorize the resources and wildlife. In the future, children can learn about this land from our records.”  

The soldier’s eyes lit up with admiration. “Really? That’s wonderful, sir. None of us can read or have had any schooling. You must be an educated man from the capital.”  

Another soldier glanced at Jue, who was bundled up tightly. Beneath the white cape, only a pale, slender jawline was faintly visible.  

He said to Jing Rong, “Sir, we’ll need to verify that gentleman’s identity as well.”  

Jing Rong handed over a pack of cigarettes, a faint smile on his lips. “Could you make an exception? He’s my lover, though his status is… somewhat special at the moment.”  

Jue’s fingers clenched briefly before relaxing again.  

The two soldiers exchanged a look, understanding dawning in their eyes, and stepped aside. “Of course, no problem.”  

By the late stages of the war, human trafficking had become commonplace. Their only concern was ensuring those entering the inner zones posed no threat.  

Besides, though rumors said the SSS-class High-Risk Experimental Subject was still alive, the remnants of the rebel forces had already retreated deep into the mountains. The war’s end was imminent—there was no need for strict vigilance anymore.  

Jing Rong led Jue into the heart of the town.  

Red-haired people—war prisoners—were everywhere, their feet shackled, their faces worn with exhaustion.  

The place was so impoverished that there was only one inn. The streets were lined with blacksmith shops forging weapons, signs hanging outside reading, “Free Lodging for Olke Empire Soldiers.”  

Jing Rong led his horse through the town. The locals showed no interest in outsiders; even the innkeeper didn’t bother looking up at them.  

A biting wind carried the scent of grit and steel.  

Jing Rong stopped in front of a blacksmith’s shop.  

Jue halted beside him.  

He watched as Jing Rong studied the blacksmith intently.  

The shop owner had a mess of dirty red hair tied roughly behind his head, his torso bare and glistening with sweat over well-defined muscles.  

A prisoner’s shackle also encircled his ankle.  

In stark contrast to his grimy appearance, the blacksmith was forging a simple yet razor-sharp sword, the molten red-gold glow illuminating the entire room.  

“Looking for lodging, gentlemen?”  

The blacksmith didn’t pause his work, his voice hoarse as he called out to customers. “Honorable Olke soldiers stay free with valid identification.”  

“If you don’t charge for lodging, how do you make a living?” Jing Rong asked.  

His tone was polite, devoid of the condescension and disdain typical of the Auerke people.  

“Food, sir,” the blacksmith replied, eyeing the composed, aloof young man before him. Though curious, exhaustion weighed heavily in his voice. “If needed, we prepare meals and drinks for guests in the evening.”  

“I’m not an Olke soldier. Please let me pay the standard rate.”  

Jing Rong took a gold coin from his sleeve and handed it over.  

The blacksmith shook his head. “We don’t have change for this, sir.”  

“The remaining amount covers additional services. I’d appreciate it if you could feed and tend to my horses,” Jing Rong said. “My lover and I will be staying for a few days. Feel free to use the funds to stock up on supplies.”

Hearing this, the innkeeper finally stopped what he was doing.

He scrutinized them carefully before saying, “There aren’t many rooms left. You can go upstairs and pick one you like. For dinner, just come down when it’s time.”

Jing Rong said, “Thank you.”

He and Jue went upstairs one after the other.

The rooms on the second floor were also quite simple. Jue chose one by the window: “This one will do.”

As Jing Rong stepped inside, the floorboards creaked beneath his feet.

Though the room showed its age, it was clean and tidy, with only one small bed.

Jing Rong placed his luggage by the door and closed it securely.

The sounds from outside still filtered in, though they seemed muffled, as if separated by a barrier.

Jue stood with his back to him by the window, having lit a cigarette at some point. He held it between his lips, gazing at the scenery outside.

He stared for a long time.

This was a place he had never set foot in before, yet one where his comrades had shed every last drop of their blood.

Jing Rong didn’t disturb him. He leaned against the headboard, still dressed, and continued correcting the map, the tip of his pen making soft scratching sounds.

By the time he looked up again, Jue had moved away from the window and finished bathing.

Jue’s hair was damp, his crimson locks disheveled and hanging messily, making his strikingly blue eyes stand out even more.

He hadn’t bothered with other clothes, simply draping himself in Jing Rong’s shirt as he emerged.

The look in his eyes had returned to the one Jing Rong remembered from that day.

The day the High-Risk Experimental Subject, battered and desperate, had pinned him against the wall.

The wolf had licked his wounds, tasting the familiar metallic tang of blood and the distant, long-numbed pain. Yet his expression remained casual, almost indifferent.

Jing Rong set the map aside and watched him.

He felt Jue sit on the edge of the bed before leaning over him, pressing his face against Jing Rong’s chest. The rickety little bed swayed slightly from the movement.

Then he heard Jue say, “Do you want to, Brother?”