Chapter 8: Are You Joking?

After finishing his cigarette, Zhu Daqing spoke slowly, “Have you watched the news lately?” Zi Jin was perplexed. Why did this man in front of him refuse to mention today’s incident, instead insisting on talking about the news? “Just get to the point. We’re all smart people here; there’s no need for circles,” Zi Jin said in a low, slightly hoarse voice as he glanced at his girlfriend beside him. To protect her, he knew he had to cooperate fully with these people, to get out as quickly as possible and avoid becoming entangled in this mess.

“Animal attacks. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Lately, the news reports this almost every day—fourteen cases this month alone, and today’s case,” Zhu Daqing tapped the file on the table, “the landlord found dead in a rented apartment: forty-seven fractures, ruptured spleen, eighteen deep claw marks on the back, each about three centimeters deep. Cause of death: exsanguination. If you ask me, if this is the method seen in those animal attack cases, this man died quickly compared to others.” Zhu Daqing pursed his lips, looking at Zi Jin, who was now gradually calming down. Zi Jin spoke, “Go ahead. Why are these cases connected to us? And why mention an outcome—what outcome?”

“I appreciate dealing with smart people like you,” Zhu Daqing suddenly slapped the table and laughed, his eyes filled with admiration. He became somewhat serious. “Are you sure you’re ready to hear the truth?” Zi Jin remained silent, but his gaze locked with Zhu Daqing’s, conveying his determination and the resolve to protect his beloved without words.

“If I told you there are people in this world who can turn into animals?” Zi Jin’s pupils contracted sharply. He recalled his own strange behavior the night before and couldn’t help but ask, “What do you mean? That’s impossible, isn’t it?” Unfazed, Zhu Daqing pulled out another cigarette, placed it beneath his nose, and repeated his earlier ritual. He continued, “These people are called Sequence Users—a new variant race existing between animals and humans, akin to the mutants in certain old American films.”

“This race was first discovered more than a century ago during a war in our homeland. The enemy used countless cruel methods to torture and toy with our people and captured soldiers, but some survived. Among them, a rare few, subjected to extreme hardship and driven by a desperate will to survive, underwent genetic mutations and became Sequence Users—the first generation. Globally, there were only ten.”

“A hundred and thirty years have passed, and this new species hasn’t died out. They’re adept at hiding within human society, indistinguishable from ordinary people. In essence, they still possess a human heart. Those ten Sequence Users founded the first organization of their kind—The Council of Elders.”

The ash fell, and Zhu Daqing’s tale came to an abrupt halt, as if he’d lost interest in continuing without another cigarette.

The three sat in silence for a while until a clear voice broke it—“These animal attack cases, they’re all caused by Sequence Users, aren’t they? That means you’re no ordinary police officer.” It was Wang Jinjun, who had finally recovered from her fear. She stared at Zhu Daqing, evidently seeking more vital information from him.

Zhu Daqing shook his head and smiled wryly, “A pair of hidden talents indeed. I can tell you, but…”

“No need. We already know,” Zi Jin interjected. “We confess. My girlfriend and I are Sequence Users.”

Zhu Daqing regarded them with a peculiar expression, muttering, “Impossible… the intel I received doesn’t mention either of them—how could they be Sequence Users?” He seemed lost in thought for a long moment, then finally said, “You’re not joking with me, are you?”

“You’re the one who started with jokes,” Zi Jin’s demeanor turned cold, tinged with anger. “You speak in riddles. What happened to us today was bad enough—an ordinary person would have been scared out of their wits. We’re just regular people, yet you question us, make us listen to some fairytale so we’ll ‘confess’. Do you really think we’re children?” Clearly, Zi Jin didn’t want to reveal anything to this man. Even under the barrage of questioning, he forced himself to respond calmly.

Zhu Daqing was taken aback, realizing he’d been played, but he wasn’t angry. He spoke in a very calm tone, “It’s understandable that you don’t believe me. But facts are facts. Zi Jin, you two are the only couple I’ve come across in all these years who have encountered Sequence Users twice. I think you could help us discover their recent movements and intentions. If you change your mind, take this and come find me. The address is inside. That’s all—I’ll let you go home and rest. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Zhu Daqing took out a badge from his inner pocket. Unlike the standard badges worn on police uniforms, this one bore a gilded faceless mask in the upper right corner, marked with a pronounced slash. The badge was nearly a third the size of a palm, its fiery red rim gleaming with metallic luster. Ordinary badges are made of titanium alloy, but this one’s material was unknown; a chill radiated from its center, reminiscent of a predator watching its prey in the dark, its gaze fixed on Zi Jin. That small badge conveyed two utterly different sensations to Zi Jin, and in that moment, he began to understand the gravity of Zhu Daqing’s words.

“I understand. I won’t take the initiative to get involved further, as my priority is my girlfriend’s safety. But as one of the few who’ve experienced this twice, I’m willing to cooperate—provided my safety is guaranteed,” Zi Jin said.

Zhu Daqing hadn’t expected Zi Jin’s attitude to shift so quickly, but he recognized this as a rare opportunity. He stood, extended his hand, and said, “Looking forward to working together.” He waved toward the surveillance room; the iron door opened. After exchanging a few words with the middle-aged officer Liang Shan, Zi Jin and the others were released. The police officers said nothing, letting them leave the station without further questioning.

By the time Zi Jin led Wang Jinjun out the front doors, it was already noon. The winter sun should have felt warm, but at that moment, Zi Jin’s heart was plunged into an icy abyss.