Chapter Thirty: The Mysterious Creature Turned Out to Be Him

Even Chen Bingfeng, usually composed and unflappable, couldn’t help but exclaim when he heard Ye Chen announce his intention to interrogate the grotesque, neither-human-nor-monster creature sprawled on the floor. In his view, such a twisted abomination ought to be executed on the spot.

In the corner, Xu Fan maintained a remarkably steady posture as he aimed his firearm, a sight that slightly surprised Ye Chen. It was as if, with a gun in his hands, his entire aura transformed.

Ye Chen didn’t bother to explain much in response to Chen Bingfeng’s doubts—for he himself was beset by a thousand questions.

He lowered his gaze to the uncanny being at his feet. Under the stark beam of his flashlight, he observed that the severed limbs showed no sign of regeneration.

So, it wasn’t a body-type Awakened... Ye Chen silently compared it to Scarface. Scarface was only an E-rank Awakened, yet when his wrist was chopped off, he’d howled in heart-wrenching agony. But just a few days later, that thieving hand was up to its old tricks again.

If the creature beneath Ye Chen’s foot were also an Awakened, its strength would surely surpass Scarface’s. There should have been signs of regeneration at its wounds. Instead, blood continued to pour, unchecked.

The creature writhed, guttural roars of defiance rumbling from its throat. But with three of its limbs severed, blood gushing, and Ye Chen pressing down hard on its weakest spot, its arched back was forced again and again to the ground.

You want to get up? Stay down.

After a few deep breaths, Ye Chen attempted to question it.

“What exactly are you?”

Only more low, humiliated growls answered him.

Ye Chen pondered, then tried again: “Tell me, who are you?”

Strangely, upon hearing this, the creature seemed almost tranquilized. Its rage abated, and it strained to turn its head, casting a glance at Ye Chen. The malice in its eyes diminished slightly.

Then, in a voice hoarse and broken, laced with deep resentment, it replied, “I... I am, I am Zhang Jingye, I am Zhang Jingye...”

At those words, the three were struck as if by thunder—shock exploding in their minds, ringing in their ears. Mouths agape in disbelief, they exchanged incredulous glances.

Xu Fan, so startled, nearly squeezed the trigger by accident.

Zhang Jingye?! The director of the Green Crystal Mine, Zhang Jingye?

For Chen Bingfeng and Xu Fan, the shock was twofold: not only was this monstrous thing claiming to be Zhang Jingye, but it was also speaking.

Xu Fan, keeping his distance, scoffed, “Maybe it’s just a monster Zhang Jingye kept, out for revenge on its master’s behalf!”

Chen Bingfeng pressed, “What makes you claim you’re Zhang Jingye? Isn’t Zhang Jingye supposed to be locked up in prison? And besides, Zhang Jingye was human—do you think you’re human?”

Three questions, straight to the heart of the matter.

“I am human... I am human, I... I’m not a monster!” Especially the last question seemed to pierce the monster’s very soul.

It began to struggle and roar again, the lone remaining hind limb clawing at the floor, sharp talons gouging deep grooves in the boards. It longed to spring forward, to tear apart the man who dared doubt its humanity.

Ye Chen increased the pressure of his foot, forcing the stitched-up Zhang Jingye back down, leaving him to snarl helplessly.

But when its eyes met the black muzzle of Xu Fan’s gun, the rage faded into whimpering, terror-stricken sobs—fear far greater than when it faced Ye Chen’s blade, which had so easily severed its limbs.

Ye Chen sensed this subtle shift immediately.

This was a distinctly human fear—the fear of technological weapons. No matter how sharp a blade, people instinctively believe they might dodge it, or at worst, survive and retaliate. Rarely does a blade strike fatally in one blow.

But with a gun aimed at you, safety catch off, the primal sense of dread takes over. There’s no escape; a single shot could end it all.

Such fear is born of human wisdom and experience, embedded deep in the subconscious. Beasts know nothing of it.

“I... I really am Zhang Jingye!” The monster pleaded from its gaping maw.

“Alright, let’s say you are. How did you escape prison?” Ye Chen asked.

Weak from blood loss, Zhang Jingye’s struggles grew feeble—perhaps also subdued by Chen Bingfeng’s earlier words: "Let’s say you’re Zhang Jingye."

“I... I didn’t, I didn’t break out. When I woke up, I was already on the riverbed beneath the prison,” Zhang Jingye recalled. “I followed the riverbed, found a sewer entrance, crawled inside, and discovered a manhole cover. From there, I climbed out.

“Then I just wanted to go home. Yes, I... I only wanted to come home. This is my home, this is my home!”

His voice rambled on, a touch weaker now, but with each answer, his speech grew more coherent.

The three were stunned. So, this was Zhang Jingye’s home—and he’d been dumped from the prison.

At the same time, Ye Chen’s mind sharpened.

...Beasts or humans, when threatened or frightened, their first instinct is to flee to their lair, their home. It’s a fundamental drive.

“Do you know what you look like now? Do you know why you’ve become this way?” Ye Chen’s eyes fixed on the stitches at the creature’s waist, pressing for an answer.

The other two held their breath, waiting.

At this, Zhang Jingye squeezed his eyes shut in agony, silent for a long moment.

“I saw myself in the mirror. I... I don’t know, I don’t know why I became like this, ah! Roar!” His anguished wail turned bitter, “But I know—someone in the prison did something to me.”

So, there was indeed something amiss in the prison... Ye Chen’s suspicions solidified.

No matter how many bizarre things had happened to Zhang Jingye before, this transformation must have occurred after his imprisonment.

As for why he ended up in this half-human, half-beast form, Ye Chen couldn’t say. But he was certain that, despite the mutations, much of Zhang Jingye’s human consciousness remained.

Moreover, the transformation—judging by the stitched seam at his abdomen—was almost certainly artificial.

Ye Chen stared at Zhang Jingye’s head, straw-like hair falling over a face twisted in pain and madness, his eyes already glazed.

He asked solemnly, “Zhang Jingye, listen carefully and answer truthfully: why did you murder the Cao Yang family, and why did you attack Zhang Tufang?”