This clearly wasn't S City, so there couldn't be an S University. Yet Ning Huai found himself standing at the school gate.
The students were lively, and vendors sold breakfast and fruit along the roadside. Even students working part-time at gyms distributed flyers.
Early-rising students pedaled bicycles, hurrying to the library.
The pre-research dogs from the Biochemistry Institute, clad in lab coats, rushed to the laboratories in groups.
Everything was bustling and lively. And despite himself, Ning Huai couldn't help but smile.
This was what Ning Huai, and many other harbinger members of the Special Operations Department, wanted to protect.
An orderly human society; and the crystallization of great civilizations left behind by countless souls over the millennia.
When he arrived at the auditorium, a red carpet lay before him, flanked by flower baskets. Above the auditorium hung a red banner: Congratulations to Professor Ning Huai of our School of Physics for winning the "Bohr International Gold Award"!
At the entrance of the auditorium, the director waved happily, "Ning Huai! You're here! Come in quickly, there are reporters inside."
Beside him stood his familiar colleagues, all wearing sincere and radiant smiles, rejoicing in his achievements.
Ning Huai also saw his deceased parents here, both from ordinary working-class families, now wearing small red badges, looking somewhat embarrassed.
The director shouted from a distance, "Ning Huai, come on, everyone's waiting for you! The scene is all set. Let's take a photo with your medal!"
But Ning Huai only paused here, his gaze filled with nostalgia.
He did win the Bohr International Gold Award; he was 33 at the time. The next year, he awakened as a harbinger.
If it were truly Ning Huai here and not a mutagen, perhaps he would have lost his way at this moment.
The real Ning Huai stood at the entrance of the central divine courtyard, his gaze still clear and resolute. Yet, upon seeing his parents, his eyes reddened slightly. "The pollutants of the mental department are indeed terrifying. Despite my repeated reminders that this is an illusion, everything around me keeps pulling me back into the past..."
Due to the aftermath of amnesia, Ning Huai's corruption rate actually increased much slower than that of a normal person. Painful memories were quickly forgotten, while trivial details remained etched in his mind, even encounters with strangers from over a decade ago.
Late at night, Ning Huai used to recall his parents, a loving couple, yet all he could remember was the blank faces. If it weren't for being here, he might not even recall how his father and mother looked.
The mutagenic Ning Huai remained still, prompting the director's urgency: "Ning Huai, come on!"
With a deep breath, the mutagen grew insectoid limbs from its lower body and swiftly slashed the director's throat.
Blood gushed forth, and the director's expression was one of disbelief as he collapsed into a pool of blood. His parents approached, their voices stern: "What's wrong with you? Have you lost your mind to the extent of not recognizing your own parents?"
His old professor, leaning on a cane, pointed at his nose with trembling hands: "Ning Huai, how could you commit murder? Are you insane?!"
His former students looked horrified: "Professor Ning, what's wrong with you?!"
Ning Huai killed everyone there. His insectoid limbs dragged across the ground, leaving trails of viscous blood behind.
Silence enveloped the surroundings. Even though he knew it was all fake, everything felt too real for Ning Huai. So much so that his heart convulsed with pain.
Friends and family lay on the ground, lifeless and accusing.
The heavily distorted Ning Huai moved among them like an aberration. He suddenly felt a chill.
As he killed the last person he recognized, the surroundings were once again shrouded in white mist.
The bodies on the ground seeped into the earth like water.
By now, Ning Huai's corruption rate had reached 47.
It was close to halfway, but he could still hold on.
Finally, the auditorium revealed its grotesque form: a fish lying on the ground, its body highly decomposed but with an unusually large mouth big enough to swallow a truck whole.
The fish's mouth gaped wide, waiting for Ning Huai to step into its trap.
Without water, the fish lay helpless on the street, unable to move a muscle.
Ning Huai swiftly ended its life and continued walking forward.
The mist around him thickened.
In the last area, there was no sign of life, only ruins.
Forty-five years ago, the Divine Kingdom Operation. To deal a heavy blow to the True God, he and the other twenty members of the vanguard had once come here together.
These ruins were the traces they left behind in battle.
Ning Huai's face couldn't help but reveal a nostalgic expression.
Among the first batch of awakened Harbingers, there were notably many outstanding members, mostly top professionals from various fields. Surprisingly few ordinary people awakened.
According to the institute's theory, perhaps this was indeed an evolution.
Ning Huai understood that they were very close to the True God's main body now.
His body was covered in carapace, sensing movements in different directions through the subtle vibrations of the ground.
Behind him, someone was there.
Bone spurs pierced through Ning Huai's arm, breaking through the skin with edges shimmering like blades. He jerked his head around abruptly, but in the next moment, his pupils contracted.
Several sky-blue feathers drifted down slowly from the sky.
A figure lightly descended atop the cross on the ruins' crest.
Behind Feng Qing sprouted two pairs of wings, trailing down to the ground. Holding a scepter, his eyes hollow yet exuding sacred authority, he seemed unchanged from the past.
However, Feng Qing's aura was unmistakably identical to that of pollutants.
Ning Huai felt as if his throat were being squeezed, squeezing out a trembling inquiry: "Qingniao...?"
Feng Qing, codenamed Qingniao.
Feng Qing didn't respond. Instead, he raised the scepter and murmured softly, "Wind."
[Talent 16 - Nature Manipulation]
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