The Unexpected Exposure

The authorities were quite satisfied with Zhuo’s current state. Freed from his constraints, he wasn’t causing trouble or attempting to destroy the world—just quietly being love-struck. A mind full of romance was far better than one obsessed with annihilation.

Yuan Anqing was also highly satisfied with Zhuo’s state. He loved seeing Zhuo happy; Zhuo’s strange, domestic antics always brought him joy.

But to outsiders, Zhuo’s behavior seemed utterly bizarre.

At first glance, the monster looked towering and imposing, but his actions quickly undermined the intimidation his build conveyed. For example, he had just run off to sit with a group of toddlers painting plaster piggy banks at a craft stall in the park. He even sneered competitively at a kindergarten kid’s colorful creation.

He scrutinized the kid’s messy project, then snorted. Afterward, he deliberately raised his own small, perfectly painted pot, twirling it to admire his work with smug superiority.

It was baffling—a massive grown man in his thirties determined to win a painting competition against a five-year-old. But Zhuo was incredibly proud of himself.

And the Savior didn’t scold him. As Zhuo admired his own work, Yuan Anqing just watched and smiled, finally saying, “It really is pretty. You’re talented at everything you do, Zhuo. Quick to learn, and smart.”

Zhuo’s tail practically wagged off his body.

The kindergarten kid pouted in sulky silence at the unfair praise.

Zheng Xiao’an was used to their dynamic. The teenager was also doodling nearby, but their creation was purely abstract—they had somehow turned a kindly old lady figurine into a heavy-metal singer.

Yuan Anqing didn’t join the games. He just sat beside Zhuo, praising him like a doting parent. He praised Zhuo’s use of color and creativity. Though Yuan Anqing didn’t actually understand the artistic vision behind the neon-colored tiger Zhuo had painted, he still thought it was beautiful.

Zhuo’s confidence swelled with every compliment.

Finally, Yuan Anqing held up the two dried plaster dolls. “These need a proper cabinet for display. I’ll have one custom-made for our apartment.”

The rebel spy trailing them couldn’t hear what the Savior said, but seeing Zhuo’s glowing expression, he knew the undiscerning Savior was at it again, praising people for nothing. The Savior had been at it all the way here—had he just graduated from some corporate management seminar on positive reinforcement?

“Mine doesn’t need a cabinet,” Zheng Xiao’an said, embarrassed. Their work was pure teenage satire.

“Yours is nice too,” Yuan Anqing said smoothly. “Very creative. It looks interesting.”

Zheng Xiao’an pursed their lips and didn’t refuse again, but their cheeks reddened. They weren’t sure how to interact with the Savior. Being cared for made them want to express gratitude, but they feared seeming too clingy. An awkward silence settled over the table.

Zhuo, however, could sense others’ desires. He knew Zheng Xiao’an desperately wanted to get closer to Yuan Anqing but was also terrified—afraid of saying something wrong that would ruin the mood, like a timid son facing a strict father in a feudal household.

But Yuan Anqing wasn’t strict.

“Why are you so afraid of Yuan Anqing?” Zhuo asked Zheng Xiao’an, genuinely puzzled. “You clearly like him so much.”

His bluntness stunned Zheng Xiao’an. “Huh?”

“I asked why you’re afraid of Yuan Anqing!” Zhuo raised his booming voice. “You clearly like him a lot!”

His loud tone immediately drew stares from the surrounding parents. Zheng Xiao’an’s mind went completely blank with mortification.

“Zhuo!” Yuan Anqing quickly tapped Zhuo’s horn. “Don’t say strange things in public!”

Zhuo didn’t care about others’ opinions, but not everyone was like him. “What’s strange about that?” he didn’t understand.

While Zhuo was confused, the spy following them was terrified.

What did “clearly like him a lot” mean? Had Zheng Xiao’an, after being taken away by the authorities, fallen for the Savior? So fast?!

Just as he thought that, Zhuo turned his massive head directly in his direction.

The spy froze. Though Zhuo only glanced at him, the cold, red-eyed look was imposing and deeply intimidating. He wasn’t paying attention to the spy specifically—just noticing the many onlookers—but the pressure was immense.

Is the Savior overly lustful? the spy wondered.

“Full of filthy thoughts, seeing filth everywhere,” Zhuo muttered, catching the stray desire.

“What’s wrong?” Yuan Anqing asked.

“Nothing.” Zhuo was displeased. He reached out and aggressively hugged Yuan Anqing. Zhuo didn’t like that kind of misunderstanding.

Yuan Anqing looked back at the man trailing them. Then he patted Zhuo’s hand, stood up, and walked directly toward the spy.

Now the man knew he was caught.

“Hello. How long do you plan to follow us?” Yuan Anqing asked directly, his tone corporate and flat.

The man paused. He started to speak, but Yuan Anqing continued, “You haven’t blatantly disturbed us yet, but your thoughts have caused some trouble.” Yuan Anqing knew Zhuo could sense emotions, and whatever this man had thought made Zhuo complain about “filthy thoughts.”

The spy considered lying, but then he noticed the light.

He wasn’t well-informed about the Savior’s specific abilities, but he clearly saw the Savior’s pupils shift to a glowing, molten gold.

The man quickly stood up, sweating. “I’m leaving right now, haha.”

Yuan Anqing watched him walk away, expressionless, the gold in his eyes growing purer.

“He thinks you’re abusing your power for personal gain,” Zhuo said, moving close and lowering his voice. He hadn’t expected Yuan Anqing to confront the man so openly. “He thinks you’re a lecher using your Savior status to groom minors for benefits.”

Yuan Anqing paused. The gold in his eyes vanished instantly. “He thinks I’m lecherous?”

“Yeah. He thinks you seduced Zheng Xiao’an.” Zhuo was incredibly annoyed. He couldn’t accept such baseless speculation about his partner.

Yuan Anqing thought for a moment, then understood. “You said ‘like’ too loudly earlier. He misunderstood the context?”

Yuan Anqing let out a long breath. “So that’s it.”

“What do you mean ‘so that’s it’?! How could he think you’re seducing Zheng Xiao’an?!” Zhuo was deeply unsatisfied with the lack of reaction.

Zheng Xiao’an, who had been slowly following them, heard that. They backed away even farther, determined not to hear anything weird.

Who was seducing whom? Yuan Anqing seducing them?!

Zheng Xiao’an shivered in horror. It felt like the absurdity of a stern, 50-year-old principal seducing a delinquent student—not a forbidden romance, but a straight-up horror movie!

“I actually thought he had romantic feelings for you,” Yuan Anqing explained to Zhuo.

Zhuo blinked, then understood what Yuan Anqing meant. “You confronted him because you were jealous?! Are you angry for my sake? You love me so much!”

He hugged Yuan Anqing tightly in the middle of the park. “I love you too!”

“We’re so perfect together.” Zhuo was deeply moved. He loved Yuan Anqing more every day. He wanted to devour him whole, but if he did, there’d be nothing left.

Zhuo kissed Yuan Anqing’s cheek, then licked it lightly. “I’m hungry.”

Yuan Anqing touched Zhuo’s horn, ignoring the saliva. “Then let’s go home.” They had taken the day off, free to do whatever they wanted.

Yuan Anqing had thought they’d have a long, peaceful time after killing those extremists in the warehouse.

But he was wrong this time. He didn’t have a deep understanding of how fragmented the rebel organizations were, or how insane the truly radical ones could get.

So when a dozen inferior Differentiated Beings suddenly appeared directly in the middle of the crowded park, both Yuan Anqing and Zhuo were stunned.

“What are they doing?! Are they trying to burn their boats?!” Zhuo was shocked. The previous organizations had attempted covert assassinations. Now they were staging a mass anomaly attack in broad daylight?!

Zhuo wanted to eat them all, but Yuan Anqing stopped him. “They’re not completely inferior yet!” These seemed like conscious individuals just beginning to collapse into mutation. If they were conscious individuals, they weren’t “dead” yet.

The inferior Differentiated Beings scattered, moving to attack the screaming civilians quickly.

“Stop!” Yuan Anqing shouted. His eyes blazed a brilliant, blinding gold.

Instantly, the anomalies charging at the crowd all froze, standing dumbly in place, trapped in the mental domain.

Zhuo’s face darkened. He noticed a pure human nearby holding up a phone, recording the scene.

The man with the phone was smiling, but there was no positive emotion—only overflowing, calculated malice.

“Are you controlling those mad people?” the man aimed the camera directly at Yuan Anqing’s face. “I noticed your eyes turned gold all of a sudden.”

Yuan Anqing frowned, raising his hand to cover his face, but Zhuo immediately stepped in front of him. “Don’t be rude. Put that away.”

“Sorry, I’m just so excited.” The man looked at Yuan Anqing like a rare zoo animal. “And those are inferior Differentiated Beings, right? This gentleman saved me!” He said that, but his internal malice didn’t diminish.

A highly troublesome person.

“I’ve never heard of anyone controlling inferior Differentiated Beings like that,” the man said loudly, still trying to shove the camera closer to bypass Zhuo. “Except, of course… the Savior.”

Yuan Anqing froze.

Zhuo immediately understood the intent. They wanted to expose the Savior’s identity to the public!

“Are you live streaming?!” Zhuo reached to crush the phone, but Yuan Anqing stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

Yuan Anqing thought the young man looked familiar. Searching his memory, he realized it was a minor, C-list celebrity. He only thought “minor” because he’d never seen him on TV or in movies.

“You’re the one on the orange juice boxes?” Yuan Anqing vaguely recalled. He’d bought orange juice with the celebrity’s face on it, and there was a cardboard standee next to the cooler.

The man’s voice was delighted. “You know me?”

“I do. But you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” Yuan Anqing pointed at his now-black eyes. “My eyes just change color when I get an adrenaline rush. The attack startled me.”

The man sneered, ready to argue the biological impossibility of that, but his gaze suddenly went blank.

Yuan Anqing stared dead into his eyes, his voice dropping an octave, saying each word clearly: “You should leave soon.”

“Are you controlling him?!” A male voice beside them exclaimed. A bystander had seen the little celebrity suddenly become obedient like a lost, brainwashed soul.

Zhuo: “…”

This new man wasn’t malicious; he was just incredibly talkative and stupid.

“How can you control others?!” the bystander shouted to the crowd. “Do ordinary people have this power too, or are you an inferior Differentiated Being?!”

In places Yuan Anqing and Zhuo couldn’t see, the little celebrity’s livestream was gaining thousands of viewers by the second, the comments scrolling faster than the eye could read.

As Zhuo had said before, legends of the Savior in this world were ancient and remote—so old that no one knew where they started, yet people believed them deeply.

An ordinary-looking person possessing power capable of neutralizing a dozen inferior Differentiated Beings at once?

Had the Savior finally appeared?