Hui Tian Ch12

Chapter 12

Shen Zhuo: “I’m dirty. Lend me the bathroom, please.”

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“Three days ago, when I heard you were attacked, I immediately dispatched an emergency medical team to Shenhai.” Director-General Nielsen glanced at Shen Zhuo, then turned to Bai Sheng with a smile. “But it seems they were not needed.”

Bai Sheng, in the presence of his S-class peer, appeared remarkably proper and polite. “It was nothing.”

Nielsen nodded, his tone calm and gentle. “Trafficking evolution sources is a very serious crime, almost equivalent to smuggling military arms. So, after receiving Supervisor Shen’s request for assistance, I immediately had someone conduct a detailed screening of the global evolutionist database. Unfortunately, there were no clues about that mysterious supplier, ‘Mr. Rong’—however.”

He paused, then changed the subject. “Regarding those two accomplices, the man and the woman, I can provide you with a lot of information.”

Shen Zhuo, leaning back in a large armchair opposite the desk, made a “please continue” gesture.

“The two are siblings. The brother is named Noda Shunsuke, an A-class evolutionist with a rare spatial ability. The sister is Noda Yoko, a B-class plant-based evolutionist. Both are extremely radical evolutionist protectionists, with a strong discrimination and hatred for ordinary humans.”

At this point, Nielsen paused and turned to Bai Sheng with a smile. “Mr. Bai, having resided in North America for many years, have you heard of the ‘Round Table’?”

Bai Sheng showed surprise, raising a hand to his chin. “The Round Table?”

The other two’s gazes fell on the two-million-plus Roger Dubuis Knights of the Round Table watch on his wrist.

Nielsen was silent for a moment. “…I’m not talking about the watch.”

“Oh—” Bai Sheng feigned sudden understanding, lowering his hand and sitting up politely.

Nielsen looked like he wanted to say something but was holding back. From his expression, he probably wanted to ask if Bai Sheng had suffered a head injury as a child, but fortunately, he managed to restrain himself with his excellent upbringing.

“The Noda siblings were both once members of the ‘Round Table’,” Nielsen explained. “The ‘Round Table’ is a European evolutionist protection organization. Its founder is known as the ‘Bishop,’ who once proposed the very famous alpha wolf philosophy—calling on young, high-ranking evolutionists to act like alpha wolves, to protect their lower-ranked kin from being persecuted by humans.”

“‘Bishop’,” Bai Sheng repeated with interest. “Never heard of this organization, haha.”

Nielsen didn’t mind. “It’s a good thing you haven’t. Most radical organizations have a touch of hate-mongering, discriminating against ordinary people who can’t evolve, saying humans are ants destined for extinction… I’m getting sidetracked. Compared to those other radical groups, the Round Table is relatively compromising and rational, always emphasizing that they should not go to war with humans.”

Bai Sheng, with his long legs crossed, asked as if he didn’t already know, “Since the Noda siblings are from the Round Table, is last night’s assassination attempt on Supervisor Shen related to the Round Table?”

“It’s unlikely,” Nielsen said. “The Noda siblings were expelled from the Round Table three years ago because their hatred for humans was too radical and didn’t align with the ‘Bishop’s’ philosophy of comprehensive coexistence.”

Bai Sheng let out a long “Oh—” and nodded.

Shen Zhuo asked, “Where did the siblings go after being expelled?”

“The specifics are unknown, mainly in Asia.” Nielsen gestured to the full-touchscreen desk with his chin. “I’ve already retrieved all sighting records of the siblings for the past three years and sent them to you via email. Take a look when you get back.”

Shen Zhuo gave a distracted “mm” but didn’t reply.

Bai Sheng glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

Outside the office window, the daylight passed over snowy peaks, casting Shen Zhuo’s profile in an icy silhouette. His eyelashes cast clear, long shadows. He sat with his arms crossed, leaning back in the armchair. The posture made his shoulders and back look relaxed, or rather, too relaxed.

The Shenhai City Supervisor had never shown such a casual posture to the outside world, so casual it was almost deliberate.

This was highly unusual. Nielsen was, after all, his direct superior, and it was common knowledge that “Odin’s Wolf” was not an easy person to get along with.

Nielsen followed Shen Zhuo’s gaze, which landed on an open fountain pen box on his desk.

In the double-layered rosewood box, more than twenty fountain pens of various styles were properly stored, including some valuable limited-edition artist models. Some of the caps were even engraved with different initials.

“My secretary just brought them out to be sent for maintenance,” Nielsen explained to Bai Sheng with a smile. “I personally enjoy collecting writing instruments, so I often receive fountain pens as gifts. Please excuse the display!”

“…”

Bai Sheng’s gaze landed on the very center of the first row of the pen box, the most important and eye-catching position. It was a Montblanc made of Damascus steel inlaid with lapis lazuli. A slender-gold style Chinese character was engraved on the sword-shaped clip—Shen.

“Carefully preserving gifts from others is a very good quality,” Bai Sheng replied with a smile after a three-second pause.

Nielsen was about to say something more when there was a light knock on the door, followed by his secretary’s respectful voice from outside. “Mr. Nielsen, are you there? The impeachment committee has sent someone to urge you to return.”

Shen Zhuo came back to his senses. “Impeachment committee?”

Nielsen couldn’t help but laugh. “To impeach me.”

“…”

“Those humans from the UN Security Council have always felt that evolutionists must be regulated by humans, and that the International Supervision General Administration cannot be in the hands of evolutionists themselves, otherwise it would lead to great oppression of human rights… and so on and so forth, the same old story.” Nielsen stood up, straightened the hem of his suit, and said self-deprecatingly, “I’ve been trapped in that meeting listening to a bunch of old men drone on for three whole days. I was so bored I almost fell asleep several times. I happened to hear from my secretary that you were here, so I used the excuse of going to the restroom to come out and see you, and take the opportunity to get some air.”

He said it very lightly, but Shen Zhuo still took the cue and stood up. “An impeachment is no small matter. You should hurry back. Mr. Bai and I won’t disturb you any longer.”

Nielsen nodded, but still didn’t seem to take the impeachment meeting too seriously. He walked around the desk to shake Bai Sheng’s hand firmly again and said sincerely, “If it weren’t for your help that day, Supervisor Shen would have certainly been in danger. Please accept my personal, highest gratitude!”

Bai Sheng replied with a smile, “I don’t deserve it. It was what I should do, part of my duty.”

The gazes of the two S-class individuals met and parted. Nielsen smiled and let go of his hand, taking half a step back.

Shen Zhuo pretended not to see and was about to turn and log off when the Director-General seemed to suddenly remember something. “Supervisor Shen!”

Shen Zhuo paused.

Then, in front of Bai Sheng, Nielsen placed a hand on Shen Zhuo’s shoulder and smoothly pulled him into a tight hug.

“Regarding last night’s assassination attempt, I grant you full and free authority to handle it.” Nielsen switched to German as if no one else were there, his voice deep. “At your inauguration three years ago, I said this path would be fraught with danger, but I will always protect you. That sentence is still effective today.”

Shen Zhuo was a little surprised and glanced at Bai Sheng over Nielsen’s shoulder.

Their eyes met. Bai Sheng narrowed his eyes slightly, and from Shen Zhuo’s gaze, he saw a very rich, indescribable expression.

The atmosphere froze for a moment. Then, Shen Zhuo smiled.

The smile was practically diplomatic, flawless even under a microscope. His beautiful face instantly thawed, and even the curve of his lips was perfect. Then he reached out and patted Nielsen on the back, took half a step back, and looked at the Scandinavian man, saying earnestly:

“I understand, Director-General. I will always stand by your side as well. Go to the impeachment meeting.”

He took another half step back, smiled at Nielsen, and his figure gradually faded.

He had logged off on the spot.

The office returned to silence. Only Nielsen stood where he was, motionless, watching until Shen Zhuo completely vanished into thin air.

With a click, the door was pushed open.

“Director-General, Cameron’s people have been urging several times. The verdict is about to begin…” The secretary’s expression held a poorly concealed anxiety. He suddenly noticed the open pen box on the desk and couldn’t help but freeze.

Why was it taken out? Has the situation become that critical?

Nielsen slowly turned his head, his ice-blue eyes looking heavily at the Damascus steel fountain pen, his gaze fixed on the character “Shen.”

A thank-you gift from Shen Zhuo at his inauguration three years ago.

Nielsen took out the pen, gripped it tightly in his palm, and strode out of the office.

He crossed the building’s corridor, and the elevator ascended to the top floor. Two evolutionist guards respectfully pushed open the brass doors for him. Behind the doors was a huge conference room enclosed by metal walls and bulletproof glass. The long table was flanked by members of the UN Security Council.

All of them were human, and every face was a regular in newspapers around the world.

The gazes directed at Nielsen from all sides were filled with clear hostility. The very air was thick with a treacherous killing intent.

“At such a critical moment for a show of hands, you still have the leisure to take such a long bathroom break. Such blind confidence is truly admirable,” a short, stout Italian official said sarcastically, looking at his watch. “It seems you are not at all concerned about your impending dismissal.”

Nielsen pulled out the chair at the head of the long table and smiled. “No matter how you plan to kick me out of the Director-General’s position, until the vote is cast, I am still an existence you cannot shake, am I not?”

His uncharacteristically relaxed demeanor instantly ignited the suppressed anger of many in the conference room. “Stop your dying struggle, Fritsch Nielsen! You know very well how biased you are towards your fellow evolutionists. We have tolerated you for five whole years!”

“The International Supervision General Administration is an institution for regulating evolutionists. How can it fall into the hands of evolutionists themselves?!”

“The Security Council will not tolerate you any longer!”

The crowd on both sides of the long table was agitated, but Nielsen ignored them all, looking straight to the other end of the table, where a silent figure sat in the shadows.

“Someone will indeed be kicked out of this door today, but that person will not be me.” Nielsen looked directly at that figure and asked with a smile, “Care to make a bet, Cameron?”

The person in the shadows remained still and did not answer.

With a loud bang, the Italian official from before slammed his documents down. “Nielsen, we haven’t even settled the score with you for forcibly interfering with our country’s proposal to arm evolutionists! You—”

Nielsen shot to his feet and drew the fountain pen.

A cold light flashed, and the Italian official’s palm was nailed to the tabletop!

“Ah—”

A scream tore through the air, and blood splattered. Everyone around him turned pale. “What are you doing?” “Stop!”

The Italian kicked and screamed desperately. Nielsen licked the blood from the back of his hand, like a magnificent white wolf from the Nordic ice fields, with a clear, cruel smile. “Settle the score with me?”

He casually tossed the pen cap onto the conference table. The Damascus steel clattered against the tabletop, clearly revealing the engraved character “Shen.”

At the other end of the long table, in the shadows, the man named Cameron finally moved slightly, staring at the pen cap with surprise.

“My apologies for keeping everyone waiting. An intimate friend of mine paid me a sudden visit while I was out and gifted me this pen—I’m sure everyone here has heard of his name.”

Nielsen looked down at the crowd, revealing a blood-tinged smile. “He is the leader of the original Human Regeneration Project, also known as the HRG Project, Shen Zhuo.”

The air instantly fell silent.

As if a nuclear bomb had been dropped without warning, most people didn’t react, but the faces of a few high-ranking officials changed dramatically, almost shooting to their feet.

“…How did you do it?” Cameron finally spoke in a low voice.

“How did I manage to have Shen Zhuo at my beck and call?” Nielsen finished the unspoken latter half of the sentence, looking mockingly at the figure. “What do you think, Cameron?”

“Three years ago, after the Qinghai incident, Shen Zhuo was tortured under private law. Nineteen of his bones were broken, yet even on the brink of death, he refused to admit that he had killed Fu Chen. It was I who sent people to rescue him from that mob. Without me, he would have died. It was from that moment that Shen Zhuo became my closest and most steadfast ally.”

“And the irony is, it’s not until today, three years later, when the HRG Project has completely hit a dead end, that humanity has finally realized Shen Zhuo’s value.”

The huge conference room was silent.

Everyone’s face was incredibly ugly, except for the Italian official, whose hand was still nailed to the table by the fountain pen, letting out pained and fearful sobs.

“You can kick me out of the International Supervision General Administration. You can lock me in prison. You can even devour the evolutionists like a swarm of carnivorous ants until only bones are left. But don’t forget, as the last hope of the HRG Project, Shen Zhuo is in my hands.”

“If I don’t let him return to the research institute, you can only dream of seeing that illusory light of the Human Regeneration Project, like desperate rats in a sewer.”

Nielsen raised a hand in a “please” gesture.

If one ignored the blood flowing across the table in front of him, his smile could truly be called perfectly polite and graceful.

“Now, gentlemen, please cast your votes. You had better start praying now that you can produce a result that satisfies me.”

No one raised their hand, and no one spoke. The officials, usually so powerful, now had expressions of near suffocation, and they all cast furtive, pleading glances towards the other end of the long table.

Cameron, who had been sitting silently in the shadows all along, finally stood up. His face was revealed in the light. He straightened the lapels of his suit and calmly summarized:

“A whole three days of impeachment… one careless move, and the entire game is lost.”

Cameron was around forty, or perhaps older, but it was hard to tell. He had distinct East-West mixed features, with black hair and cold, grayish-green eyes. When he spoke, there was a smooth, in-control manner, and a light, dismissive tone.

Nielsen stared at his greatest nemesis and gave a cold smirk. “You flatter me, Cameron.”

“Don’t misunderstand. I didn’t lose to you, but to my consistently high expectations of weak human nature.” Cameron’s lips curled into a smile, a smile as fake but impeccable as a diplomat’s. “Stupid blind obedience and sentimentality have indeed been characteristics of Shen Zhuo’s personality since childhood. I should have anticipated it.”

He gave a polite nod, turned, and walked toward the conference room door. Behind him, Nielsen sneered, “Next time, I won’t let you walk out of this door standing, Cameron!”

Cameron stopped and turned back.

From this angle, the shape of his eyes and brows, and even the contour of his profile, bore a terrifying resemblance to Shen Zhuo, a fact only concealed by the mocking smile on his lips. “It’s good to have dreams, Nielsen.”

He straightened his suit and strode out of the metal doors.

Shenhai, a high-end residential complex.

The moment the realistic projection disappeared, Bai Sheng found himself back on the living room sofa and let out a breath.

The tablet was still on, the screen now showing a new email with the subject line: “Tracking record of wanted suspects, the Noda siblings.” Shen Zhuo frowned, glanced at it, and was just about to stand up from the sofa when a huge force suddenly pushed him heavily backward:

“Supervisor…Shen.”

Bai Sheng’s hands were planted on either side of Shen Zhuo’s head, one knee bent and pressed onto the sofa, trapping him completely. His voice was so gentle it could practically drip water:

“Do you have some kind of strange fetish, baby? You have to have an office romance and make me watch from the side? Later, when you two have your wedding in Northern Europe, are you going to ask me to hold a camera in front and witness that once-in-a-century moment, blinding my S-class dog eyes? What good does that do you, huh?”

The distance between them was no more than half an inch. Bai Sheng’s arrogant eyelashes were almost fanning against Shen Zhuo’s face.

“…” Shen Zhuo’s expression was complicated. He looked like he wanted to say something but held back. After a long moment, he used two fingers to push Bai Sheng’s chest back and said sincerely:

“I’m dirty. Let me use your bathroom for a shower, otherwise I might throw up on you later.”

Bai Sheng: “?”

Shen Zhuo pushed him away, stood up, and walked straight to the master bathroom.

Bai Sheng was baffled. He followed behind, about to retort sarcastically, when he saw Shen Zhuo stop as if remembering something, turn back to look at him, his tone indescribable:

“Every time I’m about to lose my patience with you, some monster or demon suddenly descends from the heavens, making you seem incomparably normal in comparison… Your strongest special ability couldn’t possibly be ‘luck,’ could it?”

Bai Sheng: “Huh?”

Shen Zhuo walked into the bathroom without looking back and slammed the door shut.

A full half hour later, the sound of running water stopped, and the bathroom door opened again.

Bai Sheng and Chen Miao were huddled head-to-head over the tablet, intently studying the Noda siblings’ travel records. Hearing the sound, Bai Sheng turned his head. “Are you a germaphobe or something? How many times are you planning to scrub yourself…” His words came to an abrupt halt.

Shen Zhuo’s collar was open, his hair slightly damp. Droplets of water trickled down his slender neck and into his collar. He wiped them away casually with a towel, and from the familiar pattern, Bai Sheng recognized it as his own face towel.

“What?” Shen Zhuo asked casually.

Perhaps because he had just showered, his skin was like translucent porcelain soaked in water, but the corners of his eyes were as clear as ink. The steam had left his lips with a faint hint of red.

“…”

Bai Sheng stared at the towel in silence for a moment, then slowly said, “Nothing. I just suddenly feel that my humble abode is graced with your presence… I’m not selling this house anymore.”

Chen Miao’s gaze darted between the two. Drawing on his many years of experience serving a master as unpredictable as a tiger, he keenly sensed that his senior’s tolerance for his Bai-ge had suddenly increased exponentially. So he cleared his throat cautiously:

“Um… Senior, we were looking at the Noda siblings’ travel records in Asia for the past three years. Bai-ge found a location that seems a bit strange.”

Shen Zhuo casually tossed the towel onto the back of a chair. “Hm?”

“Quanshan County Health Center, it was destroyed by a major fire three years ago.” Chen Miao held up the tablet and pointed at the map. “But Noda Yoko came here right after being expelled from the Round Table, and was subsequently spotted wandering around the fire ruins and the surrounding mountains multiple times. Her last sighting six months ago was also nearby. After that, she never appeared again.”

“This abandoned health center is just on the outskirts of Shenhai City, only about two hundred kilometers from us, a two-hour drive.”

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