Little Pink Starfish

After the train had been speeding for a few minutes, the city was already far behind. Lu Feng retracted his right hand, and An Zhe turned his gaze toward the dense dark clouds hanging overhead. The warplanes were returning, roaring as they swept across the top of the train and disappeared from sight.

Lu Feng didn’t say a word. After silently watching for a few seconds, he returned to his original seat.
When boarding the train, An Zhe had still been thinking he’d call Boss Xiao to report his whereabouts once the comms were back up—but now, it seemed unnecessary.

He rested his chin on his hand, looking outside. In the corner of his eye, he caught a black figure—Lu Feng had sat down a seat away from him, and the young adjudicator who’d been following him all along also took a seat nearby.

“Colonel, news from the Tribunal,” the young man said. “The Tribunal evacuated 21 people—9 dead, 4 infected, already executed.”
Lu Feng said, “What about the City Defense Bureau?”
“No data yet.”

After that, they fell silent.
An Zhe kept looking out the window—but there was nothing to see outside. In the rain and mist, there was only endless concrete.

This was the buffer zone. From the city gates to the outer city, and even between sections of the outer city, there were massive buffer zones, intentionally left without buildings.
Their purpose was to buy the military precious reaction time in the event of mutant invasions or large-scale warfare, preventing the mutants from charging straight into densely populated areas.

Before long, a stir came from inside the carriage—it was Colin, who had briefly fainted earlier. He crawled up from the aisle and sat back down in his seat.
He looked pale and kept his head low, taking out a pair of black-rimmed glasses from his pocket and wiping them repeatedly with the edge of his shirt, without saying a word.
At that moment, An Zhe felt this boy had become different from the person he’d seen before.

He turned his head to look at Lu Feng.

Just then, Lu Feng also looked away from Colin and turned to An Zhe.

Their eyes met, and An Zhe nervously clenched his sleeve.

Lu Feng only glanced at him lightly before shifting his gaze away. An Zhe felt Lu Feng at this moment was a stranger—even though they had just slept in the same bed the night before.

After some thought, An Zhe asked, “What happens next?”

Lu Feng replied, “Based on the courses you’ve taken, you’ll probably teach kids how to read.”

“And you?”
Lu Feng said, “Wait for the main city’s orders.”

An Zhe gathered his courage. “Will you go to the Lighthouse?”
—He guessed the spores were most likely at the Lighthouse.

Lu Feng glanced at him.
An Zhe felt like it was the kind of look reserved for idiots.

“I belong to the military,” Lu Feng said. “My next mission is to reclaim the Dispersal Center.”
An Zhe: “…Oh.”

He muttered softly, “Good luck.”
Lu Feng looked at him quietly for a few seconds. “Thank you.”

After that, they stopped talking.
An Zhe had a feeling the colonel wasn’t in the mood to speak anyway.

A few more minutes passed, and the train arrived at the station. Lu Feng walked toward the front of the train.

At the same time, a broadcast played inside the carriage:
“Dear passengers, for the safety of the main city, please line up for a secondary inspection.”

People began lining up. An Zhe and Colin stood at the end.
The secondary inspection involved a genetic test using machines, administered by a young doctor in a white lab coat, with blond hair and blue eyes.
Each of them had a vial of blood drawn. The doctor activated the machine. “Wait five minutes.”

An Zhe obediently pressed a cotton swab to his blood-drawn arm and stood aside. The doctor smiled. “You again.”
An Zhe: “Hello.”

“An adjudicator actually brought someone for gene testing, tsk,” the doctor said. “The whole testing center was shocked.”
An Zhe replied, “He already believes I’m human now.”

“Or maybe he’s just looking for trouble.” The doctor shrugged. “People from the Tribunal—there’s always something off with their heads.”
An Zhe said, “He’s not that bad.”

The doctor gave him a look of admiration. “You’re the first person I’ve seen speak for Colonel Lu.”
As he spoke, his gaze moved to An Zhe’s left arm. “Injured?”

An Zhe noticed that because of a wide motion, his cuff had lifted slightly, revealing the bandage underneath.

An Zhe: “Mm.”

“You need a new dressing.”
The doctor picked up a medical kit and pulled out a fresh roll of bandages. “I’ll change it for you.”
He seemed to be a naturally kind person.
An Zhe said softly, “Thank you.”

The doctor unwrapped the original bandage and said casually, “This knot was tied well.”

An Zhe thought for a moment but said nothing.
He decided not to tell the doctor it had been tied by Lu Feng—otherwise, the testing center would probably be shocked again. They all seemed to think Lu Feng was a merciless villain.

As that thought surfaced, An Zhe suddenly frowned slightly.

At that moment, he seemed to understand why Lu Feng didn’t talk much to others.
The role of an adjudicator destined one to this kind of isolation.

While he was thinking, he heard Colin nearby.
The doctor finished wrapping the new bandage and looked up. “Hm?”

“Since the outer city is completely lost now, is there still a need for the Tribunal to carry out trials?” Colin asked.

An Zhe thought—Colin truly was a devoted opposition member.

“Why do you ask?” The doctor leaned on the equipment cart, arms crossed as he looked at Colin. “Did the adjudicator kill someone close to you?”

“My mother,” Colin replied. “She went on an expedition—no armored vehicles the whole time.”

“Not always,” the doctor said calmly. “But even so…”

“Well, then—”

“Mm-hm.” The doctor interrupted coldly. “So what? If every family member came to the Tribunal or testing center demanding explanations, we’d never have time to secure the city gates.”

“But things are different now,” Colin raised his voice. “You all have time now. We just want a reason.”

The doctor gave him a faint smile.

“You’re right, things are different now,” the doctor said softly. “You’re residents of the main city now—you’ll gradually learn more.”

Casually, he said, “You think infection… just means the human body is slowly corroded?”

Colin said, “Isn’t it?”

“No,” the doctor replied, looking skyward. “The moment infection happens, your DNA chain—all of it—changes instantly.
Once infected, a person’s fate is sealed.”

“Impossible,” Colin said. “I studied biology. Viruses take time to spread—there’s a latency period—”

The doctor cut him off directly.

“Afterward, the structure of your DNA affects RNA composition. RNA changes affect protein synthesis.
Biological traits begin to change. All this happens in a short period. Your skin, appearance, expressions, movements, thought patterns, language—everything changes.”

He smiled.
“Before becoming full adjudicators, trainees are trained to detect these differences by eye. Once their accuracy reaches 85%, they graduate and take office.
Do you think your shallow understanding of human behavior can rival their years of training?”

“Eighty-five percent.”
Colin suddenly looked up. “So the Tribunal can’t identify mutants perfectly. They do rely on mass killings to avoid mistakes, don’t they?”

“Unfortunately, I have to tell you something.” The doctor looked at him. “Lu Feng’s score back then—was 100%.”

Colin stood frozen for a few seconds. “…Impossible.”

“I hope you don’t judge others’ abilities by mediocre standards—especially now that you’re in the main city.”
The doctor spoke calmly. Though his words were for Colin, his eyes were on An Zhe:
“At least where results can be verified, he’s never misjudged once. Our testing center works closely with the Tribunal. I’ve seen his evaluations.
All his scores were perfect. But maybe that’s not why he can always identify mutants with 100% accuracy.”

“He seems to have an innate talent. An intuition,” the doctor said.
“When we discovered this, we started drawing his blood once a month for study—but we’ve never found anything.”

“No…” Colin frowned tightly. “That violates scientific principles. Intuition isn’t scientific. And your infection model—”

A short “beep” cut him off. The machine lit green.

“Here are your new ID cards and communicators.
Go to the shuttle stop. The main city will assign you housing,” the doctor said, handing each of them a blue chip and communicator. “Now wait for further instructions.”

Colin took the items. “But…”

“I know it contradicts biological theory,” the doctor said, eyes like frozen blue ice as he stared at him.
“But the most terrifying thing about this era,” he said, clearly and slowly,
“is that we discovered—
the framework of human science…
is meaningless.”