Chapter 113: Aberrant 3

The blond boy’s strength was speed. Even with a child in tow, he could escape Nurse’s attack range in two seconds and disappear from sight in five.

Behind him, Nurse’s curses gradually faded. Blond glanced at the leg that had been stabbed, muttering a few profanities of his own.

They used to run together—he knew Nurse’s strengths. That single jab would gradually stiffen one of his legs.

Once his body seized up, his speed would drop significantly.

“That bastard really doesn’t take us seriously anymore. Time to teach him a lesson… If he dies here by accident, that’s on him, not me.”

Grabbing the squirming child dangling in the air, he yanked her up and stared at her face.

“Where’d this kid come from? Don’t tell me he just picked her up off the street? Tch, lame.”

Qian had just woken up when the building shook and stretched upward, and in the blink of an eye, someone else was carrying her.

Unlike Big Bear and Nurse, who had carried her gently on their backs or in their arms, this blond guy clutched the back of her collar roughly, choking her neck.

“Umm… I wanna get down,” Qian kicked her little legs.

“Hahaha, then go ahead!” Blond looked down at the crowded staircase below, packed with ghostly phantoms crawling up from below, and let go, dropping the child into the swarm.

These phantoms were born from the building itself, endlessly spawning from the ground. Once they caught you, it was like sinking into a quagmire—impossible to escape. That’s why Blond had stayed clinging to the ceiling the entire time.

He watched eagerly, expecting to see the kid torn apart by the ghosts.

The fall was about two meters. Qian dropped down, and the moment she made contact with the phantoms, the shadowy ghosts surged up to envelop her—only to scatter entirely in the next instant.

Qian sat amid the ghost pile like it was a soft cushion, lips trembling, on the verge of tears. She reached down to touch what she’d landed on—felt like a school of fish writhing beneath her.

Blond was stunned not to see her being eaten alive. Then he realized—the child must have some kind of protective charm on her.

Something powerful enough to shield her from ghost phantoms in the dark depths of the Tianzi Building—whatever it was, it had to be top-tier.

And something like that, he absolutely had to get.

Taking advantage of the ghosts’ momentary intimidation, Blond dropped down swiftly, yanked her up, and carried her away from the area.

He paused at the stairwell, gripping Qian as he searched her for charms.

“Give me your charm!”

Qian didn’t have one. Hearing the threatening voice, she turned her head and tried to run. “I want my daddy.”

“Shut Up!” Blond snapped, dragging her back. He checked her neck and wrists but found nothing. Thinking it might be tucked somewhere more private, he reached for her dress.

Qian immediately struggled harder.

When she was with Tong Jianshu, the actor had often taught her never to let anyone see her body—especially men. Any man who tried to take off a little girl’s clothes was scum who deserved to die.

“Fucking shut up!” Blond shouted, nearly getting kicked. Hearing her wail, he wanted nothing more than to slap her dead.

He’d once had a younger brother. Their parents doted on the kid, saved all the good things for him. Blond had always hated him.

A crying child was unbearable. So he’d smothered his crying little brother with a blanket until he stopped.

Now, behind the mask, his face twisted. He clamped a hand over Qian’s face, a twisted satisfaction bubbling up inside.

Just as he was about to apply force, a sharp, searing pain shot through his hand—Qian had bitten him.

He should’ve been able to fling her off easily, but it was like being latched onto by a leech—his strength was instantly drained by half. His knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground.

Blond glanced up in shock. All he saw were her large eyes, the inky black of her pupils slowly spilling into the whites.

A flicker of fear appeared in his previously arrogant, vicious gaze. She’s an aberration. She’s not human—she’s a ghost.

Ghosts that could mimic humans were often far more terrifying than those with obvious traits.

With his last ounce of strength, Blond pulled out a life-saving item—a teleportation talisman. In a flash, he reappeared ten meters away, landing on the stairs. His foot slipped, and he tumbled down.

Qian got up from the floor, her lashes still damp with tears. Sniffling, she tugged at her skirt and gently touched her belly.

Strange… she’d been really hungry before, but now she wasn’t.

She glanced around the unfamiliar stairwell, then let out a few perfunctory sobs.

Gripping the old-fashioned iron railing, Qian started walking down. Her black-and-white eyes darted left and right, searching for a familiar face.

But there was no one. Not a soul in sight.

When the five-person team had been with her, there were always hordes of ghosts attacking constantly. But now that she was walking alone, the building was utterly silent—no ghosts, no monsters. It looked like nothing more than an ordinary building.

Three floors above her, just two minutes ago, Teacher Wen had brushed past death.

He’d just managed to kill the Pyramid member planting the explosives—but he’d failed to stop the detonation.

That explosion had awakened the biggest Boss Monster.

As the mountain-like quake shook the world, the entire building shot upward.

He’d planned to retreat, but this time, Aberrant had appeared faster than expected.

Just as Teacher Wen was calling for the team to regroup, he turned and saw Aberrant at the end of the hallway.

She appeared quietly—and without warning.

She stood a full head taller than him, just like the intel described. Aberrant’s face was almost entirely hidden behind her long hair, only revealing a pale chin and vivid red lips.

Her arms were slender and porcelain-white, full and lustrous like jade—just a glance was enough to make her seem breathtaking, alluring.

But behind her, she had many such arms.

Over a dozen arms, each longer than her own body, extended from Aberrant’s back and supported her as she moved at terrifying speed straight toward Teacher Wen.

The overwhelming pressure hit him like a wave, leaving him almost unable to breathe. This was his second time entering Aberrant’s domain, but his first time coming face-to-face at such close range.

Before this, Teacher Wen had faced other S-rank domain bosses, but never had he felt such suffocating dread.

Aberrant was even more terrifying than he had imagined, and his heart sank. Their team likely wouldn’t be able to complete the Association’s mission this time.

Teacher Wen struggled to summon his Safe House, enclosing himself within it.

The smaller the Safe House, the stronger the defense—but when Aberrant’s hand merely brushed against the barrier, within seconds, the shield he could normally maintain for hours began to emit the sound of imminent collapse.

In that instant, as Aberrant’s black hair loomed above him, Teacher Wen had never felt so close to death.

But suddenly, Aberrant stopped moving.

Because they were so close, Teacher Wen could clearly see Aberrant tilt her head slightly, as if listening to something.

Then she turned her head, and the lips visible through the gaps in her hair stretched into a wide, cracking grin.

Just as the Safe House barrier shattered, Teacher Wen felt a cool breeze on his cheek.

Aberrant’s hair brushed past his face—she passed right by him… passed him without killing him.

Frozen in place for three seconds, miraculously still alive, Teacher Wen immediately pulled out his communicator and sprinted in the opposite direction.

“Aberrant’s awake and rampaging. Her aggression is extreme right now. All personnel evacuate the building immediately!” His voice was tight, cold sweat slipping into his eyes and fogging up his glasses.

Qian continued down the stairs. The staircase felt endless—no matter how far she looked up or down, it was always the same rusted railings and worn steps.

Both her hands reeked of rust, stained with dark smudges. She stared up, then down, inching forward one small step at a time.

A groan of pain drifted up from below—it was the blond man who had fled earlier.

One of his legs was stiff and immobile, and much of his energy had been drained. He had originally planned to leave the Tianzi Building but was now entangled by other specters in the building, unable to break free.

Qian crouched at the stairwell, peeking down. She saw the blond man sitting on the ground, still struggling, a pool of blood beneath him.

But there was no one around him—only a few pairs of shoes neatly lined up beside him, all pointed in his direction.

A pair of red women’s mid-heel pumps, some black cloth shoes like the kind elderly people wore, stained black leather shoes, and a tattered pair of sneakers.

“Get away! Get away!” the blond man shouted.

Qian gripped the railing tightly, her small shoulders tensing up.

Suddenly, she saw the shoes by the blond man shift, turning direction and pattering down the stairs. The blond man collapsed, gasping heavily.

At the same time, a curtain of black hair fell before Qian’s eyes.

The hair was deep black and glossy, smooth and silky to the touch.

Qian looked up and saw a woman’s face half-concealed by the hair.

It was a beautiful face, with jet-black pupils locked onto her. When Qian had been with the five-person team, she’d once seen herself in Nurse’s compact mirror—this face now looked just like hers.

Startled, Qian hadn’t reacted yet when that face leaned down, drawing close to her and sniffing at her.

Then a pair of pale arms lifted her from the ground.

Qian nestled into the soft chest, still clutching a handful of black, shiny hair.

The arms holding her were skilled, making her feel no discomfort. Smooth, faintly scented skin pressed gently against her forehead and cheek, exuding a sense of care and love.

As if a mother had found her lost child.

Qian instantly forgot everything else and clung to the woman’s neck, bursting into tears.

As she sobbed, she felt several hands comforting her—two patting her back, two stroking her head, others gently wiping away her tears.

Qian dazedly looked at the hands, followed their direction, and leaned over Aberrant’s shoulder to peek at her back.

Aberrant wouldn’t let her squirm. She gently pressed the child back against her chest.

Aberrant could feel it—this was her child. She didn’t know how the child had ended up here, but she had to take her back.

There were too many human scents in the nest. They were running around everywhere.

And one was very close.

Holding the child, Aberrant turned to look at the blond man.

His pupils dilated, breath coming in ragged gasps. Reflected in his eyes was Aberrant’s tall, grotesque form, the stairwell behind her nearly hidden by the mass of arms—like the gate to hell.

Only now did the blond man realize he was afraid of dying.

He scrambled desperately off the floor, tumbling and crawling in an attempt to flee to the next level down.

But in an instant, the arms behind Aberrant stretched out and seized him completely.

“Aaaaahhhhhh!”

“Uhh—ugh—ghkk—”

Bones snapped. His body was crushed into a small, mangled lump in those beautiful hands.

Aberrant’s back split open like a mouth, swallowing the arm and the prey it held.

Qian’s face was pressed into the softness of Aberrant’s chest, her lips puffed up from the pressure. She tried to look up at the strange sound, but a gentle, soft palm held her face in place.

Aberrant no longer paid any attention to the humans in the nest. Cradling the child, she entered the room marked 414.

It was a small suite, with the partition walls knocked down. The windows were tightly sealed.

The room was filled with numerous shelves, packed with countless wooden boxes and porcelain jars.

In the center, a long table was set with offerings, incense, and a statue of the Thousand-Armed Avalokitesvara.(AKA Thousand-Handed Guanyin)

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The Thousand-Armed Avalokitesvara is a compassionate form of the Bodhisattva Guanyin, depicted with many arms and eyes to symbolize the power to see and help all beings in need. Revered in Mahayana Buddhism, this figure represents infinite mercy and the ability to respond to countless cries for help.