“So that one wasn't a newborn? No, the other theories don't add up either.” Xin Ye handed the dagger to Mirror, gesturing for him to wipe it clean and return it to Jian Weiwei while he cleaned the toad blood off his own hands.
Mirror did as instructed, offering a rebuttal to Xin Ye’s hesitation as he worked: “Surinam toads rub off the skin on their backs once the hatching process is complete. This skin still has tissue residue on it; it must have been shed very recently.”
“Shedding the brooding skin while some young are still inside... and according to the hormone levels in the air, she should still be in the incubation phase...”
Jian Weiwei took the dagger and tapped her multi-function watch to re-verify the intel she had received. It clearly stated a single brooding mother toad. “Could it be... that the mother is raising two batches of eggs at once?”
“That would explain the eggs floating in the lobby.” Having squeezed all the information he could out of the ‘burlap sack,’ No. 237 finally deigned to drop it. “Those eggs are the second batch. The first batch—the young toads—are already hiding in the building.”
The instructor didn't seem the least bit bothered by this grim conclusion. “It seems we have plenty of ‘materials’ for our little competition.”
Her dismissive attitude might have stemmed from her flighty personality, but it was rooted more in the intuition built from a mountain of completed missions. It was something Xin Ye lacked—he had the mission count, but he had relied too heavily on his teammates in the past.
After all, there was a long-standing saying: stay in the Mutation Investigation Department long enough, and everyone becomes a master of biology.
“Toads and frogs lay so many eggs because they have so many natural predators. They use quantity to ensure survival; the mother doesn't care if a few children die,” Jian Weiwei said, already backing toward the door to search for the next juvenile. “All she can do is make sure the children hide well.”
“So, have some confidence. In this game of hide-and-seek, we are the seekers.”
***
As the team’s long-range fire support, Lian Muyun’s route took him straight to the highest point of the commercial building to secure a vantage point.
Xin Ye had lent him a rope. The grappling hook’s final anchor point was a glass observation platform that had once been built onto the exterior of the middle floors. Lian Muyun hauled himself onto the platform, tied the rope around his waist in a secure knot, and then activated his ability. He intended to manifest a scope to scout the ground below.
He had just finished adjusting the bipod and was about to look through the lens when he caught a glimpse of a massive gray shadow flashing past below.
If he wasn't mistaken...
Lian Muyun muttered, “...Uh oh.”
According to the Law of Conservation of Luck, a lucky person is bound to be exceptionally miserable in certain areas. For instance, frequently tripping, or running straight into the mother Surinam toad at the very start of a mission.
But this wasn't necessarily a bad thing. His first instinct was to track her and snap a photo for his teammates, but a better idea struck him.
Lian Muyun activated the new ability he had gained after ascending to A-rank, manifesting a strangely shaped firearm: a tracker launcher.
There was a jagged breach at the edge of the platform, just large enough for him to drop through. Ignoring the rooftop for now, he jumped down to pursue the mother toad that had just slipped away.
His foot crunched onto a pile of glass shards, nearly sending him sprawling again. He ignored the stumble and scanned his surroundings, but the toad was nowhere to be seen.
Where did she go? How does something that big just vanish?
This floor seemed to have been dedicated to entertainment. In the middle of the western corridor, an oversized, fallen sign read “Children’s Playground” in bold letters. A notice was still plastered to the wall nearby, filled with mundane reminders not to litter or damage the equipment.
A glass skylight to the north provided light for the two-story-high space. Lian Muyun stepped into the playground. There was slime on the ground, but it was impossible to tell if the transparent liquid was fresh. He had no choice but to steel himself and keep searching.
He saw plenty of equipment he had loved as a child, all of it now junk.
The further in he went, the darker it became. Using the last rays of light filtering into the area, Lian Muyun spotted a green frog head. He recoiled warily, only to realize upon closer inspection that it was just a plastic decoration on a prize wheel.
These kinds of play areas usually had a big lottery wheel at the very back, with the grand prize being hundreds of tickets. He felt a pang of nostalgia. When he was a kid, his parents would always spoil him, buying him piles of game tokens until little Lian Muyun finally hit the jackpot.
On school days, he would brag to his classmates: “I won the big one again this weekend.”
Leng Xianye’s family was richer than his, but he never got that kind of treatment. *Hmph.*
Perhaps because those happy days were so far behind him, Lian Muyun found it hard to pull himself out of the memory. His hand slowly reached for the cracked button of the prize wheel, wanting to try his luck one more time, even if the wheel wouldn't spin...
But before he could press it, the sound of shattering glass in the distance snapped him back to reality.
Judging by the direction, it came from the observation platform he had just jumped from.
Lian Muyun immediately turned and left the playground, heading toward the source of the noise.
The moment he turned his back, a hideous toad head poked out from directly above the plastic frog decoration, only to vanish quickly back into the darkness.
By the time Lian Muyun returned to the area below the glass platform, the transparent ceiling above had completely vanished, replaced by a floor covered in glass fragments.
And a Mutation Investigation Department brooch.
Another team member had been here following the toad.
He quickly picked up the brooch to examine it. There were no stars on it, so it wasn't Xin Ye’s, and it likely didn't belong to Instructor Jian, who was with him.
Of the remaining three, who was it?
Lian Muyun tucked the brooch into his coat pocket. Ruling out the western side he had just searched, he decided to explore the east.
However, before he could even pull his hand out of his pocket, a wet *splat* echoed from behind him. Something struck his left wrist.
A cold, slimy sensation coated his skin, sending a shiver of revulsion up his spine. His first thought was *thank god it wasn't my right hand,* so he could still draw and fire. His second thought was *crap, my multi-function watch is toast.*
The liquid had already corroded the watch strap. Lian Muyun belatedly clutched his left wrist; he only wore a glove on his right hand, leaving his left completely unprotected.
He spun around, his eyes meeting a pair of massive, bulging orbs.
The owner of those eyes was a bright green toad that looked almost cute, yet stood significantly taller than Lian Muyun.
Man and toad stood frozen, staring at each other for five long seconds.
A single line drifted through Lian Muyun’s blank mind: *This probably isn't the toad I was looking for.*
His daze only broke when the toad’s long, crimson tongue lashed out with a *thwack*, snagging the watch face from the floor and swallowing it whole.
Finally, Lian Muyun woke up from his daydream.
“Give me back my watch!” Ignoring the sting on his wrist, an N/A/R10 rifle materialized in his hands. He unleashed a burst of fire at the toad, but with his injured hand, his aim was off. The toad leaped away, the bullets failing to even strike a spark off its hide.
He fired again, his aim even wider. Seeing the toad about to vanish into the play area ahead, Lian Muyun finally shouldered his gun and gave chase.
Returning to the playground, Lian Muyun felt—though he wasn't sure if it was just his imagination—that it had grown darker.
Slime didn't settle as quickly as water; if he moved fast enough, he could still see the tracks left by the toad’s leap.
Lian Muyun followed the webbed prints deep into the playground, eventually ending up back in front of the prize wheel. This time, he had no time for nostalgia. He checked the wheel from every angle but found no sign of the toad. The footprints, however, definitely ended here. Finally, he noticed a fresh layer of slime on the machine and looked up.
The first thing he saw was that plastic frog head.
The second thing he saw was a pair of eyes directly above the plastic decoration.
Eyes much larger than those of the green toad.
Suddenly, he felt that the N/A/R10 in his hands was very, very inadequate.
Lian Muyun: “Crap.”
He didn't know where he found the courage, but he decisively ditched the assault rifle, swapped to the tracker launcher, and fired a shot right between the toad’s eyes. The tracker couldn't even penetrate the skin; it bounced off and landed at his feet.
Lian Muyun didn't hesitate for a single second. He dropped the launcher, turned, and bolted.
The sound of plastic and metal crashing to the floor echoed behind him. He didn't look back, only pushed himself to run faster.
*What a wonderful start to the mission,* he thought.
***
Some didn't dare look back, but others did.
Xin Ye turned to Mirror. “Did you hear something from above?”
Mirror had just intercepted a toad attempting a flanking maneuver. He coldly tossed the carcass aside. “I heard something, but it’s faint. Even though half the building has collapsed, the distance between the top and bottom floors is still too great.”
Jian Weiwei glanced at No. 237 and asked in a wheedling tone, “Boyfriend?”
“I heard it.” Before Jian Weiwei could finish her sentence, No. 237 spoke up. “Gunfire and the sound of breaking glass. Nothing else.”
At the mention of gunfire, Xin Ye couldn't help but worry about his teammates, but there were no new messages in the group chat on his watch.
Mirror comforted him: “Maybe they’re busy clearing out mutants and don't have a hand free to message. They will soon.”
No. 237, hearing nothing further, said no more and looked away.
They had finished exploring the first floor and ascended to the second via a dead escalator.
There were few storefronts on the first floor, but the second floor was packed with shops. Xin Ye looked around; this entire level was dedicated to jewelry. The precious stones and metals that once sat in display cases were now just gathering dust on the floor.
There was much less slime here, making movement easier. Xin Ye quickly dragged two juvenile toads out of a storage room and dispatched them.
It was strange.
The smoother the mission went, the more confused Xin Ye became.
That familiar feeling was creeping up on him again.
What happened the last time a mission went this easily?
Oh, right. A ninety-minute countdown to being swarmed by mutants.
Xin Ye: *Open the door.*
Xun Yin: 【Not opening it.】
Xin Ye resisted the urge to facepalm in front of Jian Weiwei and No. 237. “I can’t spend another day living this ‘mission routine’ while you keep me in the dark.”
【Then you’d better toughen up and keep living it,】 Teacher Xun said, pulling a biscuit from a tin and offering a timely reminder. 【You all know that destroying the eggs is useless, so why bother hunting these young toads? Even if you kill this batch, the next one will just hatch.】
【Jian Weiwei was right. Right now, you’re playing the seekers in this game of hide-and-seek. But if the seekers don't find the children before time runs out, they lose. Not to mention, you heard the gunfire upstairs. Some of the ‘children’ are already getting restless and coming out to taunt the seekers.】
【What’s waiting for you then? The children and the seekers... swapping roles.】
