Deep Well Base’s main gate was never a good place for a chat.
There was no sun here. Looking up, you couldn’t see the sky—only rings of cold white lamps embedded in the dome, like an artificial daylight that never went out.
Three layers of security checkpoint stood outside the alloy gate. The outer layer scanned for weapons, the middle for biological contamination, and the innermost even did a secondary screening for psychological fluctuations and radiation.
Every time someone passed through, the door frame let out a short beep, as if confirming that the person was still human.
Behind the gate was a massive ring-shaped hall.
Transport tracks slid along the walls, carrying black cargo boxes one after another deeper into the base.
Researchers in gray-blue work uniforms hurried past with data boards, white lab coats and protective suits mixed together. From a distance, they looked like a colony of ants tied to the corporate system.
A towering electronic board stood in the center of the hall, scrolling today’s warnings:
“Do not stare at A-Class and above mental contamination individuals for more than ten seconds. Do not feed humanoid containment objects without authorization. Do not engage in direct conflict with supervisor-level research personnel.”
The last one was highlighted in bold red.
Clearly, someone had stepped into that trap before.
During the shift change, a few ordinary researchers huddled by the rest railing near the main gate, quietly discussing the biggest news of the day while waiting for their verification to pass.
“Did you hear? The new chief research supervisor arrives today.”
“I heard. The one from the Hertz Family. Apparently, when the last base sent her off, the entire research department was practically setting off fireworks.”
“Keep your voice down,” another person said, glancing left and right before lowering their voice. “The point is, she’s more dangerous than an S-Class containment object.”
The first person swallowed.
“I know that too, but that’s not the main thing.”
“They say she looks like a child.”
“Really?”
“Really. My cousin was at the last base, and she said people there wouldn’t even speak loudly in the cafeteria when her name came up.”
“Is that exaggerated?”
“How could it be?”
“I heard that wherever she goes, the workstations around her empty out—either by transfer, or going to the infirmary, or just straight-up quitting.”
“Quitting?”
“You don’t actually believe they quit normally, do you?”
The whole group shivered in unison.
After a moment, someone added quietly.
“I also heard she especially likes using live people for mental contamination value tests.”
“Ah?”
“The kind where she stares at you while recording data and asks, ‘Do you want to kill yourself right now?'”
“And she eats researchers without spitting out the bones.”
“Isn’t that a little too literal?”
“Otherwise, why do you think the last base had that rumor about ‘Don’t send midnight snacks to the supervisor’s office’?”
The youngest researcher at the edge rubbed his arms.
“I’ve got goosebumps.”
“Stop talking.”
Just then, a very calm voice cut in beside them.
“Who are you talking about?”
A few people turned around instinctively.
Standing next to them was a girl they’d never seen before.
She wasn’t tall. Black hair, gray eyes. Wearing a well-tailored dark uniform jacket.
Her collar was buttoned neatly, and her face was expressionless. She looked like a researcher who’d sneaked his little sister into the base.
She stood very close.
So close that none of them had noticed when she’d approached.
The researcher who’d been talking most enthusiastically hadn’t registered yet and answered without thinking.
“The new supervisor.”
“Oh.”
The girl nodded.
“And then?”
“And then?”
The guy didn’t know why, but he actually kept going.
“And then she’s really dangerous. Super dangerous. If you’re new, you’d better stay far away from her.”
Someone beside him added.
“Yeah, especially don’t talk to her alone.”
“Don’t get singled out by her.”
“And definitely don’t let her catch you slacking off.”
The black-haired girl listened quietly and asked again.
“Anything else?”
“Anything else?”
The young researcher thought seriously.
“I heard she’s moody and unpredictable. On the surface, she looks like an emotionless loli, but in reality, she’s got a black heart.”
“The type where you think she just wants to chat, but she’s already decided to send you to Containment Cell No. 9.”
“…”
He finally stopped, belatedly.
‘Who is this?’
Staring at the expressionless face in front of him, a very bad feeling crept up in his heart.
“Wait,” he said, his voice starting to waver. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before… Which department are you from?”
The black-haired girl looked at him.
“I’m the new supervisor.”
The wind stopped.
The whole circle of people felt like they’d been choked together.
No one spoke.
No one dared to move.
The young researcher who’d been most into the story turned pale, his color draining bit by bit.
He was done.
Dear audience in front of the screen, do you think I’ll see tomorrow’s sun?
Lin Mu.
No—now she should be called Yvette.
She’d only gotten used to this new shell less than ten minutes ago.
One second ago in the system space, she was still a white-haired little loli.
The next, she opened her eyes and was already standing at the entrance of Deep Well Base, now a black-haired version.
If it hadn’t been for the four fully armed security guards standing beside her, she might have thought she’d crashed a second time.
She stood there, watching their frozen expressions, and slowly a thought surfaced in her mind.
‘So this body’s reputation was even worse than I imagined.’
She didn’t really feel anything special.
She’d just inherited a terrible reputation upon landing.
After all, she hadn’t scared those people, and she wasn’t carrying that burden. Strictly speaking…
She raised her hand and casually pointed at the researcher who’d been talking most enthusiastically.
The guy shuddered and nearly dropped to his knees.
“You.”
“I’m interested in you,” Yvette said calmly.
“Follow me.”
“…”
Researcher: “…”
Others: “…”
At that moment, he felt like slapping himself twice for being too talkative.
‘Why did you have to open your mouth!’
‘Why did you have to make up that ‘eats researchers without spitting bones’ story!’
Now the bones were going to be his!
He opened his mouth, throat dry, and finally squeezed out a sentence:
“Su… Supervisor, is there still a chance to save myself?”
Yvette nodded, thought for a moment.
“Depends on your performance.”
She turned and walked toward the base’s main gate.
The four fully armed security personnel were already waiting at the door.
Black masks, heavy weapons, mechanical skeletal supports. They stood like funeral attendants beside coffins.
That unlucky researcher could only follow, stumbling along with a face about to collapse.
Behind him, his colleagues watched his back with complicated expressions.
Sympathy.
Mourning.
And a little bit of “Thank God it wasn’t me” relief.
After all, they’d all been discussing together. If they weren’t all caught, someone had to take the fall.
Hehe!