Chapter 10

No.11's eyes became redder as he shook his head, refusing to release Elara. He bit his lip so hard that he almost drew blood. She wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and extricated herself from his hold. Then, she shut the chamber's hatch amid his reluctant weeping. He was so fragile as he wept that the lust-driven researchers at the base would get a fierce, sadistic urge if they were to see him. Elara wouldn't, though. She dried her hands and walked past No.17 without sparing him a glance despite him watching her expectantly. He pitifully watched as she got further away from him, a trace of confusion flashing across his face. Why wasn't she looking at him? Why wasn't she giving him any of her attention? He thought she would caress his head, smile at him, or speak to him after her affectionate interaction with No.11—perhaps she would even stroke his tentacles. That was why he'd endured her ignoring him and choosing to be affectionate with No.11 first. He'd silently and expectantly looked forward to her sparing him a glance before leaving, but she didn't even give him that. Had he done something wrong? Had he upset her? No.17's tentacles glued themselves onto the glass, initially delighted by Elara's presence but now drooping helplessly and in disappointment. He lowered his head sadly, looking like a dog that had been abandoned by its owner. The light in his eyes dulled, and he grew angrier when he saw No.11's pleased expression. However, as his despair peaked, Elara returned. She headed in his direction. No.17 felt a little lost. He didn't know how to appease her—he felt inferior because he thought she preferred gentle, beautiful creatures over him. So, he put on his most compliant attitude and carefully pressed himself against the glass as he looked at her with affection and restraint. Elara didn't wave at him like she usually would. Instead, she stood opposite him, unmoved by his sucking up and longing for her. Finally, as he started to panic, she asked softly, "Do you want to be where I am?" No.17 was taken aback. "Do you want to come with me?" she continued. Her voice was hypnotizing—it had the power to drive him to madness. Flames so contrasting with his icy exterior burned in his eyes, and his tentacles clung to the glass. He wanted to burst out of the chamber; every cell in his body clamored to break through everything to be with her. He wanted to grovel at her feet and feel her touch. Then, he wanted her to pry open his mouth and feed him a piece of candy. He wanted these things so badly that he was almost losing his mind. Elara remained calm, though. She smiled at No.17 as he slowly lost control. Then, she uttered, "Survive the Tier 4 splitting experiment. You'll see me again after that." Leaving with her became No.17's obsession. A creature's desire would stimulate its endless potential—his eyes brimmed with a deep, terrifying fixation as his desire to be with her consumed him. He would be with her. He could if he survived the experiment. He wanted to be where she was. Elara turned away, leaving No.17 behind as he stared fixedly at her back. She didn't spare him another glance as she headed to Zone S. She felt a little more reassured after seeing the almost fanatical look in No.17's eyes. Her heart, which had flown to her throat, settled back in her chest. He would probably do his best to withstand all the torment and make it through the experiment. Despite her calm exterior, her palms were clammy from her sweat, which had broken out due to her nerves. She was the research base's most outstanding keeper—she knew best how to control her test subjects. … As the highest-tier splitting experiment, the Tier 4 test was scheduled to take place in Zone S, where the defense and safety measures were at their peak. No.17 was confined within a water chamber, sealed behind layers of metal walls and bound with chain after chain. Under the escort of a massive security team armed with laser weapons, he was delivered into the perilous and mysterious Zone S. Upon entering the experimentation zone, everyone swiftly retreated. The sealed chamber slowly opened under a series of automatic controls, and the bioengineers were on edge as they scrutinized the activity inside. Soon, a large, wet tentacle slowly poked out of the chamber. One, two, and countless tentacles slithered out. They caught a distinctive streak of white amid the midnight-blue tentacles. It was eye-catching, like the gleam of a gem among a pile of rocks. No.17 was a humanoid squid with a handsome appearance. His hair was moss-green—at first glance, it looked like seaweed that was so black it glowed with a vague greenish hue. It was slightly curly and damp. A few tendrils clung to his face, concealing it. He had exquisite features akin to that of a marble statue carved by a master artisan. His actions were slow, and his terrifyingly destructive tentacles exuded a hint of grace. He looked like a well-educated young scion of an affluent family with generations of history. No.17 steadily emerged from the chamber, his toned muscles rippling as he moved. They covered his bones beautifully. Everyone watched him with bated breath, not daring to blink. His clear eyes slowly moved around once he was out of the chamber. He seemed to be searching for something. "What's he looking for?" someone asked. "No idea. Maybe he's just observing his surroundings. Someone refuted that. "He doesn't look like he's observing. That gaze is more of a searching one." No.17 was one of the most dangerous creatures at the research base—why did he look so docile and unaggressive now? There was even an odd sense of obedience about him. This illogical observation was overturned during the first bout of attacks, though. No.17's ferocity stunned the engineers in the observation room, leaving them in awe of the creator's grandeur. He exuded a ruthless, bloodthirsty vigor, and his attack power far exceeded their expectations. Almost instantly, he tore apart the first dangerous creature they released upon him. Despite the savage attack, not even a drop of blood landed on his beautiful face. "He's perfect!" someone exclaimed. "That's enough. Let's start the splitting." A researcher pressed a button. As an onslaught of terrifying attacks was launched on No.17, someone pushed their glasses up and said, "He looks like… he's still searching for something." No.17 withstood the brutal assault while continuing to search the place. What exactly was he looking for? Meanwhile, Elara arrived at the experimentation zone. Unfortunately, she was barred from entering. She tried to reason with the armed security personnel on guard outside. She wanted to go in there—it would be easier for No.17 to make it through the splitting experiment if she were there to stimulate him. However, the security personnel merely looked at her emotionlessly. They were used to witnessing life and death, so they could no longer sympathize with these situations. They wouldn't go against protocol and let her inside just because she pleaded with them. Just then, a group of people approached from the end of the corridor. They wore uniforms that showed their superior ranks. The man in the lead had wrinkles around his eyes, but he still looked spirited. Gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and he looked down at a screen while saying something to what seemed like his assistant. His right sleeve was empty—he'd lost an arm. It was Stephen Shore, one of Zone S' high-ranked professors. Elara remembered him—she'd witnessed him being escorted out of Zone S not long ago with blood spurting from his wound. She didn't expect him to be interested in No.17's ascendance.