Chapter Four

Annie was quite fond of his sudden descent from the sky.

It was the same exhilaration she’d felt half a month ago, when she’d found the barely breathing Lin in an abandoned building. At last, she’d encountered a specimen different from ordinary humans. The tendrils writhing beneath her flesh swelled with bright excitement, deepening to a vivid pink.

Annie reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck; they were pressed so close it was as though something ought to fuse them together at that very moment.

His pained breaths brushed against her ear, yet in the fading aftermath of agony, he felt a different kind of shiver.

“…Ha…” The man’s Adam’s apple rolled visibly as he accepted Annie’s advances without resistance. Bloodstains blurred into scattered, fading red between them. His artificial eye fixed on the girl’s face, and at last, he let out a low chuckle. “Sister, are you really carrying a child?”

His palm settled over Annie’s lower abdomen.

“Shall I open you up and have a look?”

A moment ago, he had been lost in the blood and pain Annie bestowed, so intoxicated he was nearly driven to madness. Now, with a smile, he wanted to slice open her flat belly, peel apart her muscle and flesh, and preserve that exquisite moment as a memento.

Yet the girl showed not the slightest trace of panic. The white-haired girl, marked by genetic defects, allowed him to restrain and handle her as he pleased, quietly gazing into his face. In the dim cockpit, her pale pink pupils were deepened by shadow. “Alright,” Annie nodded thoughtfully, her gaze fixed on his approaching eyes. The red light in his artificial eye flickered endlessly, and in his remaining black eye, her own faint reflection appeared. “Then I want to see your body too. Inside.”

013 couldn’t help but laugh. The tremor of his laughter passed into Annie, unreserved and direct. Habituated to violence, he flicked out the alloy blades from his fingertips. The razor-thin edge slid into flesh with a soft hiss.

Annie glanced down at the wound, a little troubled by how these males always wanted to damage her outer shell. But Annie had a good temper—or so she believed. Instead of resisting, she tightened her grip around his waist, holding his lean body close.

013’s gaze slid from her face to the wound on her body, hungry and urgent to witness the raw nerve-stirring carnage. In that instant, a slick appendage—he hadn’t noticed it climb up—suddenly covered his eyes.

Instinctively, the man grabbed at the tendril.

The sudden contact startled him, a surge of danger prickling every hair on his body.

Annie clapped a hand over his mouth.

She was well-practiced in silencing others. Her pale hand wasn’t enough; a slippery tendril slid through the gap between her fingers, a viscous flow that abruptly sealed off his vocal cords.

“Mmph, mmm—” The sound cut off completely, not even a whimper escaping.

The tendril covering his eyes withdrew, joining the other deep pink limbs that bound his hands and feet, dragging the tall man down and tying him in a forced, kneeling position.

Annie still sat atop the console. Her abdomen was split open, blood soaking her tight shirt, yet she seemed unconcerned, making no move to tend the wound. She simply looked at 013, her voice sincerely pleading, “May I look at yours now?”

The man couldn’t speak.

His voice was blocked at his throat as he stared at the tendrils extending from the girl’s waist. They moved in silence, their sudden strength impossible to break free from, no matter how he struggled.

His gaze traveled up, meeting the girl’s bright and candid expression.

A monster, he thought. His shark-teeth bit down, but the slick flesh only wavered like water, unbroken by his bite.

Annie hopped down from the console.

She began to explain herself to 013, the way she always grew talkative when excited: “At last, I’ve met someone different. You truly are unique, not like anyone else I’ve met before.”

The more 013 struggled, the tighter the tendrils bound him. Eventually, he stopped moving altogether. The artificial eye, shimmering with red, locked onto her, sliding from Annie’s harmless, delicate face to the tendrils emerging from her waist.

He sneered inwardly. This monster even knows how to flirt.

Annie, oblivious to his thoughts, simply indulged her need to confess: “Aside from Lin, it’s been so long since I’ve met a valuable male… Oh, a man, I should say. 013, this is the exchange we promised each other. You won’t go back on it, will you?”

013’s gaze seemed to say—Did you ever allow me to go back on it?

Annie moved closer, sitting down with one hand planted on the floor between his kneeling knees, the other carefully removing the noisy trinkets strapped to his body.

“Voice-activated explosives…” Annie examined each item, using her years of experience in Zone Three to identify them. “I thought they were just decoration, but they’re actually high-end gear.”

013 glared at her, clearly irritated. Even a seasoned space pirate couldn’t work out what species she was.

Annie unclipped the trinkets and stripped off his clothes.

He seemed momentarily surprised, then even more irritable. Annie examined his body carefully. There wasn’t a single wound—every destructive act against him healed instantly, thanks to his mutated physique.

She murmured, “Even if you can’t give me children, I love your abilities.”

013’s eyelids twitched.

Then he saw the girl's pale fingertips abruptly change, sharp nails sprouting before his eyes—the fine scales and claws of a merfolk. Her fingers pressed down between his abdominal muscles—

Like a scalpel, she sliced through the muscle in utter silence.

The man’s breath hitched; he raised his head and stared at Annie’s intent face.

The wound began to heal rapidly, but Annie pressed down, denying it the chance, deepening the tear.

013’s muscles began to burn, twitching under the torment. His back broke out in a cold sweat, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to swallow, to stop her, to cry out.

He could only bite through and swallow a sticky piece of something—Annie’s tendril tip, which he’d bitten off.

She leaned in to watch the healing process, almost burying her face against his waist. Raising her head, her tone was cheerful: “I’m going to collect a bit of you. Maybe you really could father my child. I could send a tendril inside and transform your body… You don’t believe me?”

He seemed to doubt his own ears.

Annie reassuringly pressed his shoulder. “Don’t be afraid, it doesn’t hurt at all. It feels very comfortable. If you can bear my child, I’ll treat you well for life. I can reshape a male’s body, make you perfectly suited for reproduction…”

013 forgot to breathe.

Even if he wanted to laugh, he couldn’t move his lips. Some premonition told him this little monster was telling the truth.

Annie meticulously collected everything that set him apart.

013’s pupils were beautiful, both the real and the artificial one. The fierce, cruel smile in his eyes was crushed, his gaze trembling and vacant for a moment—Annie was so overjoyed she kissed his eyes.

“Mmm…” The man was caught off guard, unable to avoid her. His throat was still blocked, and he nearly choked on his own saliva, coughing so hard his chest shook.

Annie swirled the collected fluid in a small vial, tucking it into her pocket, loosening the tendril at his mouth.

“...Fuck,” 013 spat as soon as he was free, gritting his teeth, “You damn mon—mmf, hiss…”

Annie cut another wound into his body.

013 didn’t grow numb from the pain—on the contrary, the more Annie hurt him, the sharper his pain became.

The pain was so intense he couldn’t speak, his forehead beaded with cold sweat.

“Don’t insult my mother,” Annie said seriously.

“Fuck your—ah…”

Another wound, and for some reason, this one hurt even more.

013 doubled over, unable to straighten his back. He’d never been in such poor shape. As a mutant, he’d always shrugged off injury as a joke. Now, he actually feared being hurt—not death, but agony.

Sweat dripped from his hair.

He gasped for breath, swallowing his moans. After ten seconds of composure, he finally forced out, “Let’s make a new deal.”

“Go on,” Annie replied.

“I’ll spare your old lover, you let me go.”

Annie laughed. “You mean, pretend to make a deal, I let you go, and you’ll command your whole pirate crew to blast me to pieces with all those advanced weapons? Even if everyone on board dies with me, you wouldn’t care, right?”

Exposed, 013’s face didn’t change. “That long-haired man—is he a merfolk? You showed clear merfolk traits just now. He must be another of your ‘information collection’ victims. With a merfolk’s status and pampered nature, he’d never willingly ride this ship. Is he the missing second son of the Blue Dragon family?”

Annie didn’t understand. “What do you mean? Say it again? Second son of what?”

013 looked at her, meeting that earnest confusion. He gritted his sharp teeth and spat, “…Idiot.”

Annie cupped his face, smiling. “This idiot wants to study your body a bit more, is that alright?”

Even if it killed him, 013 couldn’t help but curse. “Are you some kind of breeding cancer? Is that all you think about? Or is your entire species on the verge of extinction—”

“Ah,” Annie sighed meaninglessly. “Yes, we’re nearly extinct. And,” she slapped him across the face, “don’t use foul language.”

——

When they finally reached an agreement, there was still time left on 013’s countdown.

The broadcast inside the vehicle crackled on again, his voice hoarse and ragged: “Enough. We’re pulling out.”

Static filled the transmission, interspersed with 013’s muffled groans of pain. “You beast—fuck—” Then, as if someone covered the mic, only a furious snarl came through: “What are you waiting for, the cops to surround us?!”

He was referring to the United Police of Azure Star. This was not the esteemed Eighth Sector—there was no diligent security here. The police would wipe out the pirates and every hostage aboard, without a second thought.

After all, none of them were worth much.

The pirates exchanged looks, but obediently withdrew from the ship, returning to their own craft. Only the two cyborgs guarding Lin knocked cheerfully at the cockpit door. “Boss, we found him!”

The door opened, and there stood the white-haired girl. Annie held out her hand. “Give him to me.”

The two men froze, surprised she was still alive, and craned their necks to look inside.

Their boss’s clothes were soaked in blood.

013’s clothes hung in tatters, ripped and slashed, but the skin beneath was flawless, unmarked. His hair was drenched, the damp strands clinging to his neck, one human eye staring at the cockpit’s metal ceiling. His neck, head thrown back, gleamed with cold sweat.

The two men were stunned. Their boss played rough.

The girl was unharmed, but reeked of blood. Annie reached out again. “Give him to me.”

They hesitated, but 013 spoke behind her. “Give him to her.”

“Boss, the star network says he’s from the Blue Dragon family, the—”

“Give her!” 013 snapped, slamming his fist into the console.

They stepped aside, letting Annie take Lin’s hand, grumbling inwardly—the boss was letting beauty get in the way of business. This handover would cost them billions in bounty.

013 drew a breath. “Let’s go.”

He no longer leaned on the console. His first step was slow, but he quickly recovered, pausing only to tug down the ruined collar of his shirt as he passed Annie, exposing the wound on his throat—inside, the healing flesh churned around a broken, pinkish tendril.

He could not heal.

“Take it out,” 013 said.

“You bit it off yourself,” Annie replied, looking at him. “It hurts me too. Make them leave. Everyone withdraw, and no one is to appear on the sensors.”

013 looked at the two men.

They’d never seen anything like this. Meeting their leader’s gaze, they snapped to attention and slammed the door shut.

The console screen lit up again, showing red dots disappearing—unauthorized persons, the invading pirates, leaving.

When it came to money, even the shoddiest vehicles were ruthlessly precise.

Annie reached out, grasping the severed half of the tendril, which flowed like water back into her body.

Now laced with 013’s blood.

He was weaker than ever—he’d always been nearly immortal. Torture and pain had grown dull to him, but Annie’s wounds were ever more violent, ever more excruciating.

Yet the monster responsible for it all suddenly cupped his face, touching the red mark left by her slap, and said wistfully, “Will we meet again?”

013 almost laughed at her in spite of himself. “What did you say?”

“I can’t bear to part with you,” Annie said. “Let me study you a while longer. When I’m done, maybe we’ll meet again.”

013 laughed, his voice hoarse, laced with a threat as hungry as desire. “Fine. Next time, I’ll find out what you are. I’ll cut you to pieces, grind you to pulp.”

Annie patted his face, her tone bright. “Alright. Until next time.”