Chapter 2: High-Risk Experimental Subject  

“Are you really sure about this?”  

System 626 flitted around the room, watching Jing Rong intently. “You’re deciding to go to the capital just because you think the hair color of High-risk species looks nice? Isn’t that a bit too casual?”  

Jing Rong knelt on the floor, methodically checking his medical and weapon cases. “A little.”  

“…”  

626 was speechless.  

This guy was insane.  

And he was fully aware of it.  

After finishing his inventory, Jing Rong stood up, dressed lightly. “I’ve been in this world for over a year and haven’t seen much of it. I want to visit a few more places before the timeline descends into chaos.”  

He double-checked the shutdown and retrieval of the cabin’s power and communication devices, turned off the only light, and pressed the window firmly shut.  

Through the glass, he could see the liaison team members already assembled, lined up in the snow.  

The arrival of these visitors meant that, in the near future, the last remnants of tranquility in this place would vanish.  

Jing Rong liked this snowy wilderness and was willing to leave it undisturbed—for now.  

“Are you going back with them?” 626 also eyed the group. “They’re all weak humans. They’ll probably slow you down.”  

“I’m going back with them,” Jing Rong replied simply. “I like taking the train.”  

626 conceded at this reasoning. “Fine. I like trains too.”  

The Olco Empire had a dedicated north-south railway spanning the entire nation, with trains running every half hour, day and night.  

Jing Rong boarded the first-class cabin and took a seat by the window.  

He and the liaison team weren’t the first passengers in this carriage. Shortly after he sat down, several figures clad in black, clearly well-trained, abruptly entered from the far end.  

The moment they stepped in, the carriage fell silent, the air chilling as if by several degrees.  

Jing Rong shifted his gaze from the window to the newcomers.  

Black Falcon insignias, dark combat uniforms, intimidating briefcases—their presence cast a shadow over the carriage like harbingers of death.  

These were two Adjudicators.  

The Adjudicators sat down silently across from Jing Rong, one after the other.  

Their eyes lingered on him.  

Sensing a kindred presence, the blond Adjudicator spoke first. “Hello.”  

Jing Rong nodded politely. “Hello.”  

“Are you also an Adjudicator?” the blond asked. “Here for the capital’s summons, right?”  

Jing Rong nodded again.  

“I knew it.”  

The brunet Adjudicator exhaled in relief.  

He pulled a bottle of liquor from his coat and twisted it open with a *click*. “Glad to meet a colleague on this train. We thought only rookie Adjudicators like us got the order.”  

The blond complained, “I heard it’s about an incident with the experimental subjects in the capital—those damned, lowly Sin Islanders! I say they should all be wiped out. That’d stop them from causing trouble.”  

“They’re all lunatics,” the brunet muttered, shaking his head. “It’s because of their rebellion that this war still hasn’t ended.”  

The carriage fell quiet again.  

Perhaps noticing Jing Rong’s prolonged silence, the blond turned to him, curiosity lacing his tone. “Sir, have you been on the battlefield? Killed any Sin Islanders? How many?”

Jing Rong shook his head, sparing with words. “No.”

The blond suddenly grew excited, reaching out to point at the train window beside Jing Rong. “Look, can you see some blast marks on the window?”

“This train is our military transport. Last year, a group of Sin Island People hiding in the capital tried to blow up the carriage. There was a trainee Adjudicator present at the time—his Mental Power instantly killed them all. These marks were left by that Adjudicator.”

“They say the ground was littered with dead Sin Island People that day, the blood pooling redder than their hair.”

Hearing this, Jing Rong’s gaze fell on the train window.

Indeed, traces of Mental Power lingered on the glass, but what surfaced in Jing Rong’s mind wasn’t the scene the blond Adjudicator described. Instead, it was the brief glimpses of the world’s background he had hastily reviewed before coming here.

Jing Rong had a general understanding of this world.

About a decade ago, a severe rebellion broke out on Sin Island. The royal family immediately decided to suppress it, dispatching troops continuously to the front lines.

The rebellion had long been quelled, and the Sin Island nobles who led the revolt were all dead. Yet many insurgents continued to resist—some were executed, while others were captured and brought back to the capital’s laboratories for Mental Power experiments.

This conflict persisted to this day, draining the empire’s resources.

No matter what, everyone believed any price the Sin Island People paid was justified—it was the atonement they deserved.

For these newly appointed trainee Adjudicators, this was a war of defense, a matter of their dignity. Not a single one of them didn’t dream of taking the field to kill the enemy.

But for Jing Rong, this was just the most ordinary of wars among countless worlds. Such things couldn’t even stir a ripple in his heart.

The train swayed, rumbling into the distance.

The capital was also snowing.

Snowflakes as large as goose feathers drifted down, freezing one’s breath.

In a dim, damp stone chamber, the crackling radio transmission from the earpiece was barely audible.

“Royal decree orders all Adjudicators nationwide to converge on the capital. The escaped High-Risk Experimental Subject must be captured at all costs. The capital will be sealed tight.”

The shackles on his wrists were heavy, restricting his movements, yet he still held the earpiece in place. A strand of crimson hair fell forward, the only bright spot in the gloomy cell.

“Intensify interrogations of the Sin Island People still in the labs and prisons. We must extract the subject’s whereabouts.”

“Let the Adjudicators deal with the Sin Island People. They know—once the Adjudicators mobilize, every last one of them will be slaughtered. Not a single survivor will remain. This is the price of rebellion!”

At this, those pale, emaciated hands suddenly trembled violently.

Not from fear, but from fury.

SSS-level Mental Power erupted instantly, the surrounding air boiling and trembling violently, thick with the scent of blood.

*

Jing Rong arrived in the afternoon.

Ork’s capital streets were heavily guarded, with patrols stationed at every crowded location.

The two trainee Adjudicators disembarked behind Jing Rong, only then realizing the gravity of the situation with stunned expressions.

“The capital has deployed such a massive operation? Just how dangerous is that experimental subject?”

“Caution is key. In any case, all Adjudicators have been mobilized. I heard Crown Prince Lyans is leading the vanguard in the capture operation as well.”

“Crown Prince Lyans? Then victory is practically assured. The Crown Prince possesses double S-class Mental Power!”

The crowd stirred slightly at this topic.

Crown Prince Lyans enjoyed immense popularity among the people. Before becoming heir apparent, he had been a member of the Adjudicator corps himself, personally executing the previous rebel leader of Sin Island.

System 626 remarked with some sympathy: “It seems they don’t yet understand this experimental subject’s capabilities. The royal family has concealed its true Mental Power level from them.”

Jing Rong shrugged.

He had little interest in the station’s small talk, especially since he knew no one here.

Just as he was about to leave, someone called out from behind.

“Adjudicator, please wait.”

The man wore the uniform of the Royal Guard, standing ramrod straight with features that… were probably handsome.

Jing Rong remained characteristically consistent—his facial recognition skills still nonexistent. He looked at the man with genuine puzzlement.

The other man suppressed a sigh and lowered his voice. “I’m Joson, His Highness Prince Lyans’ secretary.”

Jing Rong maintained a polite smile.

Still no recollection.

This wasn’t his fault. When entering this world, he’d merely skimmed the basic information, memorized his own identity, and left it at that—not bothering with anyone else’s details.

In such moments, he’d normally rely on 626.

But 626 seemed to be slacking off today, remaining unresponsive no matter how Jing Rong prodded.

Seeing his silence, the secretary grew visibly awkward. “N-not remembering is fine. His Highness sent me to inquire… now that you’ve returned from afar, if you’ve made any living arrangements.”

Finally a question Jing Rong could answer. “I plan to find a nearby inn,” he said, his voice and expression equally detached.

While the entire station teemed with Adjudicators, soldiers, and Royal Guards, Jing Rong alone seemed to carry an aura of frost.

Joson appeared even more uncomfortable at his response. “You’re not returning home? His Highness wished to invite you to dinner.”

Another question Jing Rong could handle. Without hesitation, he waved dismissively. “Unnecessary.”

The conversation effectively ended there.

Jing Rong’s calm demeanor suggested an innate disinterest in explanations.

Joson’s face flushed crimson before he stammered, “U-understood.”

Deeming the exchange concluded, Jing Rong glanced toward the exit and began walking away.

After a few steps, he suddenly turned back toward Joson, who instinctively tensed.

“Where can I buy cigarettes nearby?” Jing Rong asked.

Disappointment washed over Joson, though he maintained composure, pointing toward a distant district. “Over there, but it’s near the slums. Do be careful.”

Jing Rong nodded politely. “Thanks.”

He didn’t actually smoke much.

During high-pressure missions across worlds, he’d occasionally light one to maintain mental clarity.

Yet he couldn’t recall when he’d picked up the habit, or where he’d learned it.

Habits were simply habits—once formed, they followed you indefinitely.

The vending machine on the street was malfunctioning. Jing Rong pressed the button for tobacco a few times, but there was no response.

Just then, System 626 returned from slacking off: “Hello, I’m back.”

Jing Rong, ever good-natured, said, “You came back pretty quickly.”

System 626 ignored his sarcasm: “Do you know who that person was who just called out to you?”

Though Jing Rong had severe prosopagnosia, his memory was excellent. He replied, “Joson, my second brother’s secretary.”

If anyone had been by his side at that moment, they would have been shocked by the sheer amount of information contained in that simple statement.

But Jing Rong was alone now, so naturally, no one could pry into his identity in this world.

“Is that all you know?”

System 626 sent him an electronic emoji, looking smug. “He actually had the chance to become your fiancée.”