Qiang raised her head and looked at the person who had been sentenced to death, and sneered: "It seems that they are all valuable things. Then let me see, which one is more powerful, your knife or your bandage."
As he spoke, he raised his knife and threw it decisively at An Yu's neck!
The blade cut through the wind and snow, and the word "order" refracted the snowy light into the golden eyes, splitting the red color that suddenly spread in the vertical pupils.
That cold parabola flashed across An Yu's eyes, the tip of the knife dropped, and was about to pierce his throat in an instant!
The howling wind seemed to be inexplicably confused at this moment.
A black-gloved hand burst into view and grasped the blade calmly.
The fierce and wind-breaking blade was wrapped in leather and turned obediently in the palm of her hand. Qiang's eyes flashed and she suddenly felt severe pain. When she opened her eyes again, she saw broken flower branches falling from the sky.
An Yu also fell from a high altitude. He lowered his waist in the air, and after landing, he quickly rolled forward and crouched, like an elegant leopard.
Qiang's eyes passed over him, looking at the black figure that appeared out of thin air in horror.
Tall as a blade, standing silently.
A man dressed in black slowly walked forward, passing by An Yu who had just stood up, and put a leather glove on his shoulder.
With a clanking sound, he inserted the short knife back into An Yu's waist.
Qiang's teeth chattered, "You, you...where did you come from..."
"Where is the archives?" Heiyi stared at him.
Those were firm human eyes that Qiang had not seen for many years.
The moment he threw the dagger, he realized that the one with golden eyes was not human, because those eyes could change. But the person in front of him was different - even though the darkness in those eyes made people feel like they were facing an abyss, they were so firm and magnanimous, as if they would never be tainted with treachery.
His words do not have any spiritual charisma attached to them, they are just pure oppression.
As if out of control, Qiang raised her hand in the northwest direction.
The next moment, a person more than ten meters away suddenly flashed in front of him.
His white hair was curling in the wind, his vertical pupils were condensed, and there was a hint of red in his golden eyes.
This time, it was the turn of the snow light to refract into Qiang's eyes.
Before that trace of fear could dissipate, his throat was cut open by the blade, and pink blood spilled onto the ground beneath his feet.
An Yu watched the figure fall to the ground, soft and quiet. Except for the sound of wind, there was no other sound around him.
The slit throat was the only injury on the body.
He stared at the corpse, and after a moment, he took a step back as if he was unsteady.
Leather gloves held his shoulders again from behind, and Qin Zhilu said calmly: "I'll kill him."
An Yu was silent, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
Qin Zhilu looked at him and said, "It consumes so much?"
"No..." An Yu started, then paused.
Not consumption, but anger.
At the moment when his hands were tied and awaiting execution, the thing deep in his consciousness seemed to be deeply angered. If he had no control, the ability he just used would not just release the space folded in the bandage, but would fold himself behind Qiang, and then immediately fold in the other direction - multiple space folds, which can make The flower branches connecting Qiang and himself fell into space confusion, directly tearing Qiang apart.
If he really did that, it would be his most brutal counterattack.
He thought he had controlled that impulse, and after all he still wanted to ask about the location of the archives room. Unexpectedly, Qin Zhilu asked the question before him. The moment Qiang answered, the deep consciousness suddenly broke away - before he could react, he had already killed Qiang.
An Yu didn't know how to explain it. The truth would collapse the guarantee Qin Zhilu had made for him.
Qin Zhilu's Adam's apple twitched, as if he wanted to say something, but then swallowed it back.
He slowly took the knife from An Yu's hand, wiped the blood on the front and back of the gloves, took off the two gloves, and threw them aside.
There was a shallow and long gash on the palm of his left hand, oozing with blood. It was cut when he held the blade in the air just now. He casually lowered his hands to his sides and raised his right hand to suppress An Yu's hair that was flying in the wind.
"Out of control?"
An Yu froze.
This wasn't the first time Qin Zhilu touched his head, but before, it was through gloves, but this time, the warmth from his palm was transmitted through his hair.
Qin Zhilu's tone was calm, "It's not that you didn't control that thing, but you didn't control yourself."
An Yu raised his eyes in surprise.
Qin Zhilu said: "You always try to draw a clear line between yourself and yourself, thinking that it is something you want to use and fight against. Perhaps it is because your behavior and temper are somewhat unpredictable, and Shangfeng has never let go of this. Suspicion."
"But I have always firmly believed that a person's self-understanding and control requires a process. It's just that for other people, this process has been happening naturally, but you have delayed it a little longer than others, and part of your consciousness has grown first. The remaining part has been sleeping for a long time, so the fusion process will create a sense of dislocation."
Qin Zhilu paused and said, "It's okay."
The officer's voice was gentle, clearly etched into An Yu's mind through the wind and snow.
He suddenly felt a little empty in his mind, as if he was in a daze for a while looking at the wind and snow and the pair of black eyes so close to each other.
He always thought that Qin Zhilu was the one who looked at him face to face, just like everyone else, but stood closer to him than others.
But at some point, Qin Zhilu turned around and stood beside him.
The moment came so quietly that he had no way of recalling it.
"Go to the archives and find me a pair of clean gloves." Qin Zhilu said, raising his feet and walking slowly in the direction Qiang pointed.
An Yu followed him silently and asked in a low voice: "Do you have to wear gloves?"
"Um."
An Yu waited for a while before explaining. He hesitated and didn't ask again.
Ling Qiu taught him that if he was curious about something and asked tentatively, but the other party didn't answer, then don't offend again.
They walked quietly side by side in the wind and snow, and An Yu said softly: "It's better to avoid the crowd. I'm sorry, I don't have the strength to stack you up now."
Qin Zhilu glanced at him and said, "Are you enjoying it?"
"Huh?" An Yu didn't understand, "What are you enjoying?"
"Use me as an auxiliary in the summoning style." Qin Zhilu's tone seemed to be a bit sarcastic, "There is no such style among the lawful ones, and you set a precedent with your own commander."
An Yu panicked and said, "I didn't think so, I..."
He stopped mid-sentence because he saw a smile appear in those dark eyes.
Here he comes again, the chief is teasing him again.
But inexplicably, he had the same illusion as when Ling Qiu died in Area 53 - the commander seemed to be deliberately comforting him.
An Yu sighed, "Whatever you think."
"Did the jar break?"
"..."
They chatted without a word, and after walking for about ten minutes, An Yu finally calmed down.
He repeated what Jiang Xiao had just said, and Qin Zhilu just said "hmm", "It seems that what we saw is not an exception."
"The deformed people in the orphanage kill people, and their death is like a cracked mirror. But we kill people, just in an ordinary way." An Yu said softly: "Qiang said, that's because we are not owned by 'it', but he is not." Say who 'it' is."
Qin Zhilu turned to look at him, "Who do you think it is?"
An Yu remained silent until the small house in his memory where all the orphanage files were stored finally appeared at the end of the road. Then he whispered softly: "I have an unfounded premonition, which may sound ridiculous. I think it is... …”
Qin Zhilu said: "Mirror."
An Yu was startled for a moment, "Hmm..."
*
The combination lock in the archives room had failed. Qin Zhilu removed the entire lock core and pushed the door open.
The dust thrown out of the room made people want to cough. An Yu waved away the buoyancy in the air and looked at the room.
This place is still the same as in my memory. There is a lonely computer desk at the entrance, with rows and rows of file cabinets standing behind it. Everyone's files will be stored in electronic and text versions at the same time.
Each orphan comes here twice: once for admission and once before leaving the hospital or being disposed of. An Yu was picked up as an abandoned baby, so the only memory he has is the time when he was discharged from hospital.
On the day he went through the formalities for leaving the hospital, a new person happened to come in. On that day, he stood by the computer and went through the complete registration process for the new person's information, and even memorized the system access password.
Qin Zhilu watched him awkwardly turn on the computer and enter the password without hesitation, then commented: "Your memory is a bit ridiculously good."
"Ling Qiu also said that." An Yu paused, "But he also said that a good-looking face is destined to lose to bad genes, and a smart brain cannot save the bad nature of being lazy and lazy."
"He lives very clearly." Qin Zhilu slightly raised the corners of his mouth and asked: "Doesn't I need to scan the iris to register new information?"
"This link can be skipped." An Yu said, "The new kid's family was attacked in the wild. One of his eyes was injured and the other was gouged out, so the archives teacher did not register for the time being. His irises.”
Qin Zhilu nodded and walked to the back to look through the files.
An Yu was not good at operating these electronic devices, so he could only try to recall the scenes he saw back then and figure it out step by step.
"Sir, when is your birthday?"
"September 30, 2122."
"Um……"
In order to prevent anyone from pointing out that the orphanage had stopped accepting newcomers for a long time, An Yu simply used Qin Zhilu's birth year as the year of admission, typed in the numbers and said, "Then this is your ID, 21220930."
"Um."
"Your genetic entropy..." An Yu fell into a lag.
This system only allows numbers between 0 and 99999 to be filled in. Probably the designers never thought that it could go beyond this range.
Qin Zhilu casually ordered: "Just write it to the highest level."
"OK."
The system pops up a prompt: Gene entropy exceeds the human range. You are registering a child with aberrations. Please enter the aberration genotype.
Qin Zhilu stood in front of the cabinet where the files were filed for admission to the hospital in December 2130. His fingers scanned the numbers on the file book, and finally found the book "21301222".
"Sir." An Yu asked again: "Can the genotype you have obtained and expressed still be expressed at any time?"
Qin Zhilu pulled out the file and replied casually: "Theoretically, it's possible, but I rarely do it."
An Yu said to the gene pool in the system: "Then I will choose an octopus for you."
