Chapter 44: “The Prophet”

“Zero, aren’t you curious why I keep clinging to you like this?”

“Not curious.”

“Liar.”

Hua Jianxi tilted her head and said in a mischievous tone, “Every time you see me, you’re probably thinking in your head, ‘What does this damn pink-haired girl want? So annoying, but it’s not convenient to just kill her’—right?”

Ling Ling didn’t deny it, because that was the truth.

“Actually, the reason is simple.”

“Actually, I was also entrusted by someone to keep an eye on you two sisters.”

Ling Ling’s brow furrowed slightly.

Entrusted by someone…

People who could make the Eighth Seat of the Round Table willingly run errands—in the Cradle, you could probably count them on one hand. But those people had no reason to help her—except for that person.

When thinking of that person, a familiar figure involuntarily appeared in her mind.

Gray long hair, perpetually wearing a white lab coat washed to a faded white, and always wearing an expression as if the whole world owed her a hundred million.

Even though she looked barely in her early twenties, those purple eyes always carried a maturity that seemed to have seen through everything in the world.

“The ‘Prophet.'”

Ling Ling softly uttered that code name.

Hua Jianxi snapped her fingers. “Bingo. It’s Sister Hui Yin.”

Ling Ling was silent for a few seconds.

Hui Yin—that was the real name of the “Prophet.” In the Third Underground Facility of the Cradle, this name represented power and wisdom, as well as an elusive gentleness.

“She asked you to watch me?”

“To be precise, she asked me to give you a hand when necessary.”

Hua Jianxi shrugged. “But I saw you were having fun, so I never stepped in—besides, with your current strength, you don’t need my help anyway.”

Ling Ling lowered her gaze. Complex emotions churned in her crimson eyes.

The “Prophet”—or rather, Hui Yin—was the highest person in charge of the Third Underground Facility of the Cradle and the chief executor of the Killing Angel Project.

From the screening of gene sequences to the implantation of Supernatural Ability seeds, from the first consciousness activation to the last combat test—the entire “birth” process of Ling Ling and Lin Jiu was inseparable from this woman’s hands.

She had never abused them.

But she had never smiled at them either. She just recorded data, adjusted parameters, and optimized experimental plans day after day, watching these two successful “experimental subjects” in the culture dishes through the glass window with those emotionless eyes.

When Ling Ling first transmigrated, she had once hated her.

Hated her for treating herself and Xiao Jiu as experiments, hated her for never looking at them with the eyes that saw “people.”

But later she discovered that on every “Disposal of Discarded Experiment Subjects” list in the facility, her and Lin Jiu’s names had been crossed out in red ink by someone.

“In the past half year, the Cradle has produced seventeen investigation reports regarding you sisters.”

Hua Jianxi’s voice rarely turned serious. “Twelve of them were suppressed by Sister Hui Yin, four had their data altered, and one—the one from the Seventh Facility—she personally went to the Round Table Knights Meeting to say that you and Xiao Jiu currently pose no major threat, so there’s no need to waste excessive resources tracking you.”

“Round Table Knights Meeting?”

“Yeah, the kind where twelve S-Classes sit around a table.”

Hua Jianxi bit her lollipop. “Do you know how much risk it takes to lie through your teeth in that kind of setting? But she said it without changing her expression, didn’t even blink once, her face cold as a corpse.”

“Later I asked her why, and she only replied with one sentence—’The data needs continued observation.'”

“‘The data needs continued observation…'”

“Yeah. Just that one sentence, not a single word more.”

Hua Jianxi shook her head. “I’ve always felt that this person and I are the same kind—both the type who will stop at nothing for things that interest them. But she’s more awkward than me.”

Ling Ling didn’t speak.

She knew what “the data needs continued observation” meant. That was Hui Yin’s exclusive way of expression.

That woman would never say “I’m worried about you” or “I want to protect you.” She would only wrap the gentlest things in the coldest words.

“Then why didn’t she come herself?”

“Good question.”

Hua Jianxi pulled out the lollipop and pointed the tip at Ling Ling’s nose.

“I asked her the same question. She was sitting behind her desk at the time, holding a sandwich that had been unwrapped but not even bitten, and thought for about half a minute—then she said:”

“‘They don’t need me anymore. They have a new life, and that’s enough. If Zero knew that I sold her coordinates to the organization, she would probably kill me without hesitation.'”

Hua Jianxi paused.

“I asked her.”

“Did you sell them out?”

She said, “No.”

Ling Ling was silent for a long time. “She thinks I would hate her?”

“Do you hate her?”

Ling Ling opened her mouth to say something, but the words died on her lips.

Did she hate Hui Yin? Perhaps she had hated her before. Hated her for treating herself as an experiment, hated her for never smiling at her.

But she also remembered the last night in the facility—when she and Lin Jiu, covered in blood, ran through the corridor, all the security doors opened for them in time, and sitting in the surveillance room was that gray-haired woman in a white coat.

Hui Yin didn’t stop them, nor did she say “I wish you happiness.” She just nodded slightly at Ling Ling on the screen, then continued writing her experiment report.

Like seeing off two fledglings that had finally learned to fly.

“Troublesome woman.”

Ling Ling finally uttered those few words.

“Indeed troublesome.”

Hua Jianxi laughed. “But you’re pretty similar. Obviously care to death, yet pretend not to care at all—you two mother and daughter are quite alike in that regard.”

“Mother and daughter?”

“What else? She gave you the gene sequences, gave you the Supernatural Ability seeds, gave you the capital to survive in this world.”

“In a sense, she is your mother—even if she’s an expressionless workaholic.”

Ling Ling pursed her lips.

She knew Hua Jianxi was right, but she didn’t want to use that word for Hui Yin.

Because if she admitted it, what she owed that woman would be more than just a life.

“What about you?” She changed the subject. “Did you join the Round Table just to pass on messages for her?”

“Not entirely.”

Hua Jianxi put the lollipop back in her mouth, her tone returning to its earlier laziness.

“I joined the Cradle purely out of boredom. You know, my ability gives me an overpowered hacking skill—I even completely breached the Cradle’s firewall in less than three days.”

“—Can you imagine that feeling? It’s as boring as a max-level expert being thrown into a Novice Village to stomp newbies. Later, the organization found me and invited me to join the Round Table. I thought getting in touch with more high-level ability users would be interesting, so I agreed. It turned out to be quite interesting, but—”

She paused.

“I’m almost bored of it too. When Sister Hui Yin doesn’t want to do it anymore someday, I’ll just format the organization’s entire database and take her with me on the run.”

Ling Ling looked at the pink-haired girl in front of her who had just nonchalantly said she would destroy the entire organization’s database.

She suddenly realized that what Hua Jianxi said about “boredom” wasn’t just showing off—it was real.

This damn pink-haired girl was probably the type who was naturally at the top of some field, so she couldn’t sustain interest in anything.

She joined the Cradle not because she had ideals or coveted power, but simply because she thought she could find some fun.

When the fun disappeared, she would leave without hesitation.

“So you clinging to me is also for fun?”

“It was at first.”

Hua Jianxi tilted her head, a meaningful glint flashing in her gray eyes.

“But now it’s different. Zero, you’re not just interesting—you’re the most fascinating person I’ve ever met.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“It’s a compliment, but not entirely.”

Hua Jianxi stepped forward, shortening the distance between them.

The sea breeze poured in through the damaged warehouse door, making her pink hair flutter gently. “You’re very special—obviously a weapon created by others, yet you desperately want to be an ordinary person. Obviously possess the power to destroy everything, yet you get shy over a dress. Obviously doing good deeds, yet you insist on acting like a villain. That contrast—I kind of like it.”

After hearing that, Ling Ling’s earlobes turned slightly red.

“Are you done?”

“Yeah, I’m done.”

Hua Jianxi stepped back, resuming her slouching posture.

“So, Zero, please take care of me from now on. Whether it’s matters concerning the Ye Family or the Cradle, whenever you need me—I’ll be there.”

Ling Ling was silent for a few seconds, then turned and walked toward the warehouse entrance.

Before she had taken a few steps, she stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“Hua Jianxi.”

“Hm?”

“Strawberry milk cream, I’ll treat you to it during tomorrow’s lunch break.”

“But only one cup.”

Hua Jianxi was stunned for a moment, then she laughed.

Ling Ling pushed the door open and stepped into the night. Her black-and-red performance costume fluttered in the moonlight.

Hua Jianxi watched the departing figure, twirled the lollipop on her tongue, and softly said a sentence that only she could hear.

“Sister Hui Yin, you were right—she really is someone you can’t stop worrying about. But you also missed one thing.”

She smiled, pushed open the door, and followed.

“She is also someone you can’t help but want to get close to.”