Examination Center.

Since the candidates entered, their live footage was projected onto the temporary screens set up in the examination center.

Over two hundred small screens displayed the real-time footage captured by the devices carried by the candidates.

Fu Zhi and his group arrived a bit late.

His gaze swept across the screens with an indifferent and unapproachable expression.

The chief examiner for the practical test was meeting this legendary figure for the first time. With a nervous smile, he approached and asked, “Major General, what brings you here in person this time?”

Fu Zhi withdrew his gaze. “Just came to take a look.”

The chief examiner rarely had the chance to speak with such a high-ranking figure. It was a rare opportunity, so he tried to keep the conversation going.

“The pollution zone we cleared out last month is still undergoing cleanup. We've released some of the zone’s original pollutants to adjust the difficulty.”

He pointed at the screen showing Qiao Zhi battling a snake-like monster. “The base values are kept below C-class, and there's also an emergency rescue system. Candidates can activate the distress signal with a button, and our Quarantine Center will immediately dispatch a rescue team.”

Pei Ye lazily asked from behind, “What if they don’t make it in time?”

The examiner chuckled. “You must be joking. The Quarantine Center and Investigation Corps both belong to the Enforcement Division. While we may not have as many hidden experts as the Investigation Corps, most of our members are at least C-class. Handling D-class threats in the city is well within our capabilities."

“Besides, we're monitoring all the candidates’ screens in real time. If anything unusual happens, we’ll notice it immediately and respond accordingly.”

“Human life is the most important strategic resource. We wouldn’t gamble with the candidates’ safety.”

His last sentence was spoken with solemn conviction.

Fu Zhi nodded and glanced at his wristband. The reading was still in the green, but the average value had risen to 45%.

Something was changing in the polluted zone.

Either multiple pollutants had appeared simultaneously, or a certain area's pollution level had suddenly spiked.

Fu Zhi’s gaze rapidly scanned the entire wall of screens before finally stopping at the farthest corner. He extended a finger and pointed. “That blacked-out screen—who does it belong to?”

.

The boss's body had shrunk significantly. If before he resembled a moving lump of fatty, pale-yellow foie gras, then after the fire in Theater 4, he now looked like a burnt chicken gizzard that had been left too long on a grill—charred, greasy, and shriveled.

“You saw my treasure, didn't you?"

“You saw her beautiful body, right? They said she should be discarded and wasn’t a worthy collection. But I think she’s the most beautiful of them all! She deserved to be preserved!"

The remaining half of his face barely held onto his teeth, yet he still managed to display an intoxicated expression.

“From the moment I first laid eyes on her, I was completely captivated. No, no, it was her—she seduced me."

Ruan Xing felt a wave of overwhelming disgust.

The hidden compartment was filled with degrading photos—images that any normal human being would find repulsive. Yet this thing was utterly fascinated.

At the same time, he finally realized why the girl in the photos looked so familiar.

She was the lead actress in the romantic comedy film that had played earlier in Cinema 4.

“She’s so beautiful! She looked her best in that movie—I watched it so many times. Her short-sleeved tops, her skirts, her smooth arms, her tantalizing thighs, and that luscious red lips…" the boss licked his cracked lips, "absolutely delicious."

As he spoke, the boss moved closer to the table.

The situation was getting extremely dangerous, and Ruan Xing’s wristband was already flashing red.

“Don’t run. Wouldn’t it be better to stay with us? I’ve seen plenty of young people like you—thinking they can escape life’s torment. But in the end, life grinds them down. Instead of struggling, why not just surrender?”

With that, he suddenly lunged under the table, bending down to peer under the desk.

To his surprise, however, there was nothing under the table.

Scattered photos lay in disarray, but no one was there.

His greasy, oozing body froze as he looked around in confusion.

Had he searched the wrong place?

But before he could react, his question was answered with a gunshot.

Ruan Xing had been hiding behind the door. The gun’s recoil numbed his arms as he fired at the monster, but he didn’t stop.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Aside from its heavy recoil and limited ammo, the ranged weapon was incredibly effective.

The back of the monster’s head exploded, and thick black liquid dripped down in viscous streams.

The sudden attack caught it completely off guard. The boss’s body trembled, almost collapsing.

But he didn’t fall.

He propped himself up, letting out a sharp, piercing screech.

“Why do you all have to resist me?! Wouldn’t it be easier to just obey?!”

Ruan Xing didn't expect that his rapid attacks would push the monster into a berserk state, making it even faster.

Before he could react, the creature had already closed the distance.

The boss’s face had shattered. What little remained was held together by strands of blood vessels and muscle that pulsed grotesquely like a beating heart. His remaining eyeball dangled outside his socket, with its red-and-white surface swaying ever so slightly.

Only a few jagged teeth were left in what could barely be distinguished as a mouth.

“I’ve changed my mind. You’re not fit to be a guest—you should be nourishment instead.”

Ruan Xing’s vision suddenly spun, and a searing pain erupted in his abdomen.

His frail body couldn’t withstand the force of the impact. In an instant, a sickly sweet taste surged up his throat as blood flowed from his mouth and nose. And with it came an unbearable, burning pain.

The fabric and skin struck by the knee turned black as if scorched by fire.

The moment he hit the ground, cold sweat had already formed on Ruan Xing's forehead, and his body curled up instinctively.

“I’m going to eat you!”

The boss became completely insane.

His gaunt body bent down as he grabbed Ruan Xing by the neck. The part of him that could barely be called a hand slowly tightened its grip.

Ruan Xing's face flushed red, and veins bulged on his forehead. Oxygen deprivation forced his mouth open as he gasped for air. He stretched out his right hand while his other hand clawed at the monster’s charred exterior, but it had little effect—he no longer had the strength to fight back.

His vision started to spin when, suddenly, a sharp bird cry rang out.

Fu Gui: “Gah!” I’ll fight you to the death!

If Ruan Xing died, it wouldn’t survive in the polluted zone either. There was no way it would let this thing kill him.

The normally unnoticeable crow swooped down, its sharp beak pecking straight at the monster’s dangling eyeball.

It wasn’t enough to kill it, but it was enough to cause some disruption.

The grip on Ruan Xing loosened, allowing him to gasp for breath.

He slumped against the wall and slowly slid down as he clutched his throat. His eyes were bloodshot as he took deep, ragged breaths and shifted his gaze outside.

Outside the office, the guests from Theater 4 had arrived.

Dozens of figures were crammed into the small space, jostling against each other.

Strangely, none of the monsters advanced.

Their programming was only set for the theater. Without the boss’s command, they were as lost as headless flies in this unfamiliar setting.

Ruan Xing glanced at the creatures outside, and before the boss could issue an order, he commanded:

[Stop him.]

His emerald-green eyes darkened, and a thin trail of crimson trickled from the ridge of his nose before dripping onto the floor.

He was squeezing out every last bit of potential from this body, causing pain to pulse through his brain and making his vision darken.

Outside, the mindless creatures hesitated, their limited intelligence grappling with the conflicting instructions—until, at last, they moved.

They squeezed into the inner room, packing themselves in like sardines, shoving and pressing forward even when there was no more space.

The crazed boss was completely surrounded.

Some of the guests from Theater 4 had been his fellow moviegoers, and some were ordinary people who had later been polluted. They clambered over the boss, forming a writhing human pyramid. They stacked upon him layer by layer, using the most direct, effective method to restrain him.

Some of the monsters were knocked out of the room and tossed aside like ragdolls. But they quickly got back up—only to be replaced by even more.

These creatures weren’t very intelligent, but they were obedient.

At first, the boss had the strength to throw them off, but he couldn’t keep up with their sheer numbers. Those loyal hugs of love became the biggest obstacle that prevented him from advancing.

Enraged, the boss even started tearing into them with his teeth, but it was useless. As fellow pollutants, these creatures had no sense of pain. They were like mindless zombies who followed Ruan Xing’s command without hesitation.

Fu Gui perched on Ruan Xing’s shoulder. One of its wings was injured in the earlier fight, making it unsteady.

Its beady eyes gleamed with hatred. [If we don’t destroy the pollution source, we’ll be stuck in this place.]

Dizzy from blood loss, Ruan Xing asked weakly: [The pollution source isn’t him?]

Fu Gui shook its head. [In a fully formed pollution zone, the pollution source is the source of the zone—not the source of an individual pollutant.]

The wording was convoluted, but Ruan Xing understood.

He had to destroy the pollution source to completely eliminate these monsters.

"Get lost!"

The boss was on the verge of breaking free. Many of his subordinates had received his command and were beginning to move away from him.

Ruan Xing braced himself against the wall, forcing himself upright—just in time to feel something on the wall.

His movement paused.

Behind the hanging painting, there was an empty space.

Fu Gui: [That’s it!]

Calling it a painting wasn’t accurate—it was actually a photograph—a framed family portrait of the boss with his wife and child.

Ruan Xing tore it down, and behind the hollowed-out section of the wall was a box.

On top of the box was a thick stack of photographs.

The first few showed a happy family of three smiling warmly. The little girl in the red dress appeared in most of them. Then, there were pictures of just the father and daughter together.

But below those, almost all the remaining photos were of a girl in a white floral dress—secretly taken from various angles.

At the bottom were the negatives of the disturbing photos under the desk. Dimly lit cinema, pale flesh, bruised marks...

Recalling the revolting images from earlier, Ruan Xing frowned deeply.

Fu Gui: [He murdered his wife and ate her, and then lusted after another innocent girl. He deserves worse than death!]

Underneath the photos lay a camera.

As soon as Ruan Xing picked it up, he froze.

—The camera had magic in it.

His body couldn't absorb the magical elements of this world.

But if there was an existing magic…

Then he could still use it.

Yet, an even bigger question surfaced.

What connection did this world have to his original one? Why does magic still exist here?

Fu Gui: [This is it! The pollution source! Quickly! Destroy it!]

There was no time to think.

The boss had finally broken free from the last zombie clinging to him.

But his target wasn’t Ruan Xing. It was the camera in his hands.

Ruan Xing threw it high into the air, and the boss leaped up like a dog chasing a frisbee.

His broken body scattered unidentifiable fragments as he clutched the pollution source.

His barely recognizable mouth stretched into a grin: “I got it—!”

Bang!

The camera shattered into pieces.

The boss looked down as his grin froze in place.

The last thing he saw was a pair of deep, lake-green eyes.

Like the serene surface of a lake. Calm and unwavering.