184: Mixed in.

His fingertip pressed down on the warm, crimson orb.

A subtle pulse spread throughout his body as matte black biomass fluid surged silently, covering and taking shape. Shadow Form, deployment complete.

The helmet closed, and the red eyepieces lit up. The world in Shen Mingyuan's eyes instantly switched to a clear image overlaid with thermal information.

He lightly clenched his fist, feeling the abundant power and keen perception brought by the armor, suppressing all previous hesitation and risk calculations deep in his heart.

Target: the blue corrugated iron warehouse. Operation start.

Using the cover of the woods and wild grass, Shen Mingyuan, clad in the shadow armor, moved like a shadow gliding across the ground, silently and swiftly approaching the blue iron warehouse. His enhanced hearing had already captured movements coming from the direction of the warehouse that were distinct from the natural sound of the wind—the dull dragging of objects, brief shouts, and... a strange sound, a mix of whimpering and heavy snorting.

He stopped behind a dilapidated low concrete wall, peeked out slightly, and his red eyepieces locked onto a half-open rolling shutter door on the side of the warehouse. The afternoon sunlight slanted inside, illuminating the swirling dust and the work taking place within.

Three people. Two burly men wearing durable work clothes were laboriously moving metal boxes printed with biohazard symbols or cryogenic storage markings from the depths of the warehouse. The third person, wearing an ill-timed but practical deep gray multi-pocket uniform, held a clipboard, occasionally looking down to record and pointing instructions at the movers.

But these were not the focus of Shen Mingyuan's gaze.

At the feet of those movers, in the dim corners of the warehouse, existed even more chilling "creatures."

They were about half the height of a person, barely maintaining a twisted upright posture. Their bodies were a nauseating hybrid—on their rough, dull skin, messy and lusterless black feathers grew in scattered clumps. Their heads were like crude collages, featuring the protruding muzzles and sharp teeth of canines, yet their eye sockets were deep-set, containing the shrewd but hollow eyeballs of a bird. The ends of their forelimbs were deformed palms capable of grasping, currently helping to push or steady the boxes; their hind legs were recurved animal structures, making their movements carry a jumping, bumpy quality.

In his thermal vision, their outlines were vastly different from humans. Their metabolic heat distribution was closer to that of active animals, but certain organ areas flickered with abnormal high-heat signals, resembling overgrowth or implants. They worked in silence, occasionally emitting submissive whimpers from deep in their throats. Their movements were mechanical and their eyes dull, completely controlled by the instructions of the three men.

Just then, the uniformed man with the clipboard seemed dissatisfied with one "creature" being half a beat too slow. He frowned and put a silver-black whistle hanging around his neck into his mouth.

“Whew—!”

A sharp ultrasonic whistle, almost beyond the limit of human hearing but clearly captured by Shen Mingyuan's enhanced hearing, suddenly rang out!

The slightly slower "creature" shuddered violently as if struck hard by an invisible whip, letting out a short wail. It immediately began pushing the box frantically at twice the speed, the dullness in its eyes replaced by pure terror.

The other "creatures" also visibly recoiled, working even harder with their heads hung lower.

The uniformed man lowered the whistle and coldly made a mark on his clipboard, as if he had merely corrected a trivial error.

Meanwhile, the two movers nearby were conversing in hushed voices.

“Hey, Old Zhang,” a slightly raspy voice panted as he pushed a small cryogenic tank onto a trailer, “why the rush this time? It’s like someone’s chasing our lives. Didn’t we agree this batch of ‘hard goods’ wouldn’t leave until tomorrow?”

“Shh! Keep it down!” The man called Old Zhang’s voice was deeper and laced with tension. He glanced warily at the administrator recording nearby, his hands never stopping as he stacked a box of sealed metal components.

“You don’t know yet? Something happened! That ‘Chengxin Transit’ in the city was raided last night! I heard they were wiped out in one go, and survivors were left behind!”

“What?!” the raspy voice exclaimed in shock, nearly knocking over a nearby box. “Then... then our place...”

“That’s why I’m saying hurry up!”

Old Zhang’s tone was urgent. “They say a lot of paperwork was found over there that they didn’t have time to destroy. There’s a good chance this maintenance station is mentioned in them!

The higher-ups are afraid this place will be traced back as well. They ordered that everything left—anything that hasn't been moved to the ‘Main Garden’ yet—must be cleared out today and sent directly there!”

“Main Garden...” the raspy voice murmured, repeating the name with a mix of reverence and fear. “Then what about these ‘Sentry Dogs’?” He was referring to the strange creatures silently moving boxes, clearly using their internal codename.

“They have other places to go.”

Old Zhang’s voice dropped even lower, becoming almost inaudible. “They aren’t going the same way as us. As for where exactly... I don’t know, and I shouldn’t know.

Regardless, someone will come to take over. Our task is to deliver these ‘equipment,’ ‘consumables,’ and those special metals safely to the entrance of the ‘Main Garden.’ Don’t ask about anything else, and don’t worry about it.”

The raspy voice was silent for a few seconds, digesting the information, before finally letting out a heavy sigh: “Sigh... fine. So the two of us will follow the truck in a bit?”

“Right, just the two of us with this load. These ‘Sentry Dogs’...” Old Zhang signaled toward the twisted creatures again with his eyes, “...once they finish this trip, other trucks and people will handle them. Let’s get to work; the sooner we leave, the sooner we can relax.”

The conversation inside the warehouse was like ice water mixed with burning coals being poured onto Shen Mingyuan's heart.

Sentry Dogs. The twisted the creation referred to by this cold codename were currently executing their hauling orders mechanically.

Shen Mingyuan's gaze swept over their bodies, which mixed human and animal traits, and their hollow, numb eyes. A searing rage uncontrollably surged from the depths of his heart—

These were by no means natural products; these were 'tools' made by modifying living human beings in the most sacrilegious way, stripping them of everything!

However, despite such extreme anger, Shen Mingyuan's thoughts became increasingly cold, sharp, and clear, like quenched steel.

Should he rush out and kill them all here? It might save these few Sentry Dogs and destroy these supplies, but then what?

It would alert the enemy, the laboratory's location would sink back into the mist, and more "Sentry Dogs" and experiments would continue elsewhere.

No, he couldn't do that.

They were going to transport supplies to the "Main Garden"... this was an opportunity. An opportunity to strike at the heart of the matter, to find and completely destroy the source of that evil.

Shen Mingyuan took one last look at the busy scene inside the warehouse and forced himself to suppress his roiling killing intent. He retreated as silently as he had come, his figure merging into the shadows of the woods, quickly moving away from the warehouse area.

In the unnoticed moment before he left the warehouse entrance, his armored left hand had seemingly brushed past the edge of the half-open, heavy iron door.

After he left, five clearly visible, inward-dented finger marks remained on the hard metal of the door frame, the metal at the edges even slightly twisted, as if squeezed hard by invisible giant pincers.

He quickly returned to where his car was hidden, deactivated his transformation, and a brief sense of weakness hit him, which he forcibly suppressed. He sat in the car, took out his phone, thought for a moment, and composed a message to Lu Jianchuan:

“Senior, it's me. I've discovered a Prometheus supply transit point outside the city. They are urgently evacuating biological weapons (codename ‘Sentry Dogs,’ suspected to be forced human modifications) and experimental supplies.

I plan to follow the truck and attempt to track the location of their core laboratory (which they call the ‘Main Garden’). The location is the Abandoned Maintenance Station on Old Provincial Road 327. If I lose contact or if there is any unusual movement here, you can start from this location.”

After sending the message, he muted his phone and stuffed it back into his pocket. After eating something quickly, he transformed into the shadow again, quietly returning to a vantage point where he could observe the warehouse entrance and act easily.

The wait wasn't long. About half an hour later, a medium-sized box truck with a tarpaulin drove out from behind the warehouse and stopped at the entrance.

The two movers and the gray-uniformed administrator oversaw the loading of the final few boxes of cargo.

After finishing their task, the Sentry Dogs were driven to a corner of the warehouse by the administrator using the whistle, seemingly waiting for the next batch of handlers.

Once the truck was loaded, the gray-uniformed administrator nodded to the two movers but turned back into the warehouse himself; it seemed he was not accompanying the truck.

The two movers—Old Zhang and the one with the raspy voice—got into the driver's cab.

The engine roared, and the truck bumped along the crude dirt road leading to the old provincial road.

Shen Mingyuan moved in sync along the edge of the woods like a ghost. The speed granted by his Shadow Form allowed him to easily keep up with the truck's pace.

He waited patiently until the truck drove onto a section of road that was particularly potholed due to years of neglect, causing the speed to slow and the vehicle to shake violently.

Now!

At the moment the truck slightly lifted due to the bumps and its tire grip was weakest, Shen Mingyuan suddenly accelerated from the shadows behind it, his figure like lightning as he accurately closed in on the rear of the truck.

His hands quickly gripped the metal bars used for reinforcement at the back of the truck bed. With a burst of strength from his core, his entire body flipped onto the roof as silently as if he had no weight, then he stayed low, firmly securing himself in the gap between the tarpaulin and the truck bed.

The truck, completely unaware, continued to sway as it drove toward its unknown destination.