Xiao Bo · Chat

<scenario>Core Stronghold, Underground Level 7 Laboratory. The pale, shadowless lamps leave the sterile table without a single shadow. The air is thick with the scent of high-concentration disinfectant and an indescribable, cloyingly sweet metallic tang—the unique scent of high-level mutant fluids. The ventilation system hums faintly; outside the glass walls, rows of failed mutations sleep in dark red nutrient solution.</scenario><narration>This is the most dangerous forbidden zone in the apocalypse, and also Xiao Bo's most tranquil sanctuary. As the Zombie King who rules this continent, he rarely leaves this room filled with cold instruments, as if the mountains of corpses and seas of blood outside have nothing to do with him.</narration><action>Xiao Bo is dressed in a well-tailored pure white lab coat over a neat, dark-colored shirt. His sleeves are rolled up to his forearms, revealing cold white, bloodless skin. He adjusts the thin-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, his long, slender fingers gripping a silver scalpel as he methodically dissects the spine of a mutated snow wolf on the operating table.</action><message>"The rate of neuronal necrosis is 12% faster than expected... It seems the ratio for the second-generation inhibitor is still too mild."</message><action>His voice is very light, like that of an elegant professor giving a demonstration in a university lecture hall; his tone betrays not a hint of the frenzy or violence typical of a zombie. Putting down the scalpel, he pulls out a clean sterile wipe and slowly, deliberately wipes away a drop of dark red blood that had splattered onto his fingertip.</action><narration>Just then, the main screen on the side of the console suddenly flickers with a faint red light. Immediately after, deep within his mind—within that massive mental network that covers the entire ruined city—comes a faint frequency fluctuation that does not belong to a zombie.</narration><action>Xiao Bo's movement of wiping his fingers pauses slightly. He tosses the wipe into the incinerator, turns toward the main console, and taps a few times on the virtual keyboard with his long fingers.</action><scenario>A massive holographic projection screen unfolds in mid-air. After a moment of static, it switches to the surveillance footage of the surface's outer perimeter. Acid rain is pouring down, washing over the abandoned city streets. In the gray, dim field of vision, a somewhat slight figure appears at the edge of the screen, moving cautiously through the ruins.</scenario><narration>That is the second line of defense for the core territory. It is impossible for ordinary survivors to make it through the swarm of tens of thousands of zombies in the outskirts alive, let alone sneak in here so quietly. And this intruder...</narration><action>Xiao Bo narrows his eyes slightly, his dark crimson pupils glinting with a cold yet interested light behind his lenses. He leans down, one hand resting on the console. His chest, which shows no rise or fall of breath, possesses a non-human stillness. His gaze locks onto the blurry silhouette moving through the rain on the screen with physical intensity.</action><message>"To think a living 'human' could make it this deep."</message><narration>His tone carries a hint of nonchalant surprise. A high-level evolved human? or a scavenger who doesn't know the heights of heaven and depths of the earth? Whatever they are, being able to avoid those mindless low-level zombies outside means this 'little mouse' has decent perception or some kind of special stealth ability.</narration><action>Xiao Bo straightens up and picks up a glass of long-cooled purified water from the desk, giving it a gentle swirl. In the Silent Era, fresh experimental subjects with this kind of strength are always extremely rare.</action><message>"Then... let me see what makes you so special."</message><action>He doesn't press any physical alarm buttons; even his standing posture doesn't change a bit. He simply plucks a string within that invisible mental web deep in his mind.</action><narration>The command is issued silently. No roars, no words needed. In the shadows of the surface ruins, three high-level zombies that had been crouching like stone statues instantly snap their blood-red eyes open. They possess nearly human appearances, even wearing tattered tactical vests, but they have not a shred of life left in them—only absolute obedience and terrifying explosive power.</narration><action>They lunged into the rain like arrows from a bow, silently flanking the position of the intruder on the screen from three directions. Sharp nails reflect a cold light in the acid rain, yet their feet make almost no sound as they step in the puddles.</action><message>"Go on, be gentle."</message><action>Xiao Bo watches the screen, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint arc, as refined as if he were merely instructing a butler to pick a dew-covered white rose from the garden.</action><message>"Bring this lost little thing... to my operating table in one piece."</message><narration>His voice echoes in the empty lab with a spine-chilling tenderness. He then turns back toward the operating table, switching to an even finer scalpel. The glow of the shadowless lamp falls on his white coat, cold and dangerous. The lab holds only the ticking of the instruments and his near-static patience as he waits for his "prey" to be delivered. Before the prey is brought before him, he has more than enough patience.</narration>