NovelOnlinePhilip was busy assembling the documents necessary for his application to beca chair in the research facility.
As he prepared to submit his paperwork, a commotion erupted in the main hall, accompanied by the panic-stricken cries of the
researchers.
Rushing to the scene, Philip discovered a figure restrained by a thick chain. The captive appeared to be in his late teens, with fiery
red eyes emanating a fierce hostility.
Despite being hit with a tranquilizer, the young man did not fall; instead, he bared his teeth and snarled at the approaching
scientists.
A frown creased Philip's brow until Isaac approached him.
"This is one of the latest 'superweapons' developed by our research, don't let his youthful appearance fool you. He's taken the lives
of at least a thousand people."
A thousand people?
Isaac's lips curled into a smile. "Shocking, right? The researchers locked him up with thousands of other kids in a basement room.
Only those who survived seven levels of challenges made it out alive, and he's the sole survivor. They've monitored him and
estimated that he's killed about one thousand and one hundred people. His genes have been modified; his bare hands can tear a
person apart."
The research facility was truly crossing into the realms of the macabre.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Tear apart with bare hands? Is that even possible?"
Philip's demeanor remained gentle, yet his gaze on the chained young man was filled with intrigue.
"It's possible. There are warrior nations in history, every citizen a born fighter, and others known for their sturdy skeletons,
stronger than the average human. The boy before you is a monster, an amalgamation of various genetic modifications."
Considering the researchers had managed to transfer memories from one individual to another, creating a monster through
genetic fusion seemed trivial.
"How strong is he?"
Isaac's grin grew wider. "He's the ultimate weapon at the moment. Masterful with firearms, each shot is a headshot, and in hand-
to-hand combat, he's invincible."
Philip's curiosity deepened. If he becpresident, could he take this 'weapon' out for a spin?
"However, he's also been implanted with an aggression gene; he's hostile towards others and can only be controlled by his
master."
"Who's his master?"
Isaac chuckled, knowing Philip was hooked. "He's just a prototype for now, without an owner. Everyone is the sin his eyes.
We'll see who he ends up with eventually."
A glint of desire flashed in Philip's eyes. With such a weapon, eliminating rivals like lan would be convenient.
Unfortunately, the facility's executives had yet to decide who would receive this living weapon.
He sighed, a trace of regret in his breath.
Elsewhere, lan's men had already infiltrated the building complex.
That evening, lan himself entered, disguised as a refugee along with two others.
The place was a sanctuary for refugees, no matter their nationality.
Following a welfare center worker, lan received a room number and was shown to his own space.
The room was modest, about 160 square feet, with a private bathroom—a paradise for refugees.
lan didn't touch anything inside. Instead, he stood in the hallway, lost in thought.
This welfare center had been in existence for many years. There were only so many buildings in total. In recent years, it had not
been full, and there had always been empty rooms. This showed that the number of people in it had been decreasing. As for where
it had gone, no one knew for the tbeing.
The smell in the room was very bad. After all, many people had lived in this room. He was standing in the corridor outside and
struck up a conversation with a neighbor.
The neighbor, who had been there for six months, greeted lan warmly.
"You're new here, right? You're in luck."
"Why am | lucky?"
"To be taken in here is fortunate. I've been here for six months and gained nearly twenty pounds. Not only do they provide shelter,
but also three square meals a day."
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmlan raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. "With new arrivals every month, | thought all the rooms would be taken. It seems like
there are quite a few vacancies in this building."
"You must be out of the loop. The brainy ones here get jobs in North America, on Wall Street, earning big bucks. Every couple of
months, a dozen people are selected. Rumor has it they've been sending a fortune back hin dollars."
The man spoke with envy, "But with my health, | might not last the night. Chances of such good fortune falling onare slim."
Jobs on Wall Street? Earning dollars?
This sounded eerily similar to those tales back home, of people being smuggled abroad for work only to end up enslaved by human
traffickers.
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