The coastal city guarding Tasanya Prison had long since fallen, becoming a breeding ground for deep-sea monsters—until those soldiers from the East arrived like messengers of God. They slaughtered, they saved, and they vanished just as quickly.
More than a year had passed since then.
Seth had forgotten how long it had been since he lived such a peaceful life. It seemed that even if he plastered his own “Wanted” poster on a big screen, this defeated city and its people—too busy struggling to survive—wouldn’t spare a glance for an insignificant international criminal.
The Interpol agents who had hunted Seth for over a decade would never have guessed that the arms dealer who once reigned supreme on Atlantic cruise ships hadn’t become a convict in a labor camp. Instead, he had spent half a year as a grimy vagabond in a monster-infested city.
For a desperate man like him, being forgotten by money and power was far more soul-crushing than eating prison food.
Seth sat slumped on the ground, wrapped in a tattered cotton coat, his vision blurring from hunger.
“Hey! Where’d you come from?”
“I’m talking to you!”
A shout came from above, accompanied by the heavy, ragged panting of an animal.
Seth looked up and immediately locked eyes with a fierce “mop-dog.” Seeing him look up, the dog snorted white vapor and bared its foul, sharp fangs, barking manically at him.
Moving his gaze higher, he saw a white-bearded old man with knotted, filthy hair. He held the dog’s leash with an air of arrogant authority, his tattered rags revealing a patch of dark, unevenly stained chest that made Seth want to gag.
“Who are you?”
“Who am I?” The bearded vagrant snorted in anger. “This whole street belongs to my people. Who do you think I am?”
Hah, a King of Beggars.
Seth numbly recalled an Eastern movie he’d seen years ago on a yacht. What was the plot? He’d forgotten; he only remembered that the C-list actress beside him at the time had felt quite nice to the touch.
“Either pay me a protection fee and act as my urinal, or get the hell off this street. Understand!” Following the vagrant’s threat, the mop-dog let out an intimidating howl.
A moment later, the unfamiliar young man reached out, picked up a mud-stained necklace, and wobbled to his feet. He limped toward the mouth of the alley.
The vagrant chuckled. “That gimp… he’d probably leak if I used him as a urinal.”
He began humming “Jingle Bells” at the top of his lungs while picking up cardboard boxes. Even though Christmas had passed over two months ago, it didn’t stop him from being in a good mood.
The dog lay beside him, lazily wagging its tail.
The narrow alley always smelled of rot and damp silt. Cockroaches crawled arrogantly in and out of exposed water pipes. The dog’s eyes, buried in mop-like fur identical to its master’s, tracked the insects, waiting for a chance to strike.
Just as it let a cockroach escape from under its paw only to prepare to crush it again, a pair of filthy leather boots appeared. A single stomp pulverized the dog’s “prey” into a burst of slime.
The dog stood abruptly, barking wildly on its hind legs.
“Quiet, Max!”
As the uneven sound of footsteps approached, the vagrant realized something was wrong. He turned quickly, but only saw a returning figure and the twisted, dancing silhouette of eerie tentacles rising behind a towering frame.
A blunt pain struck the top of his head. The vagrant saw stars and collapsed, silent.
Seth held a brick, his cold, deep-blue eyes falling on the wound on the man’s forehead. He squinted with excitement, his cotton coat having long since slid to the ground.
He contemplated the consequences of killing the man.
To be fair, this vagrant was quite “senior” in the slums—Seth never thought he’d use the word “senior” to describe a scavenger.
“Woof! Woof woof!”
The fierce barking drew Seth’s attention. The mop-dog recoiled upon meeting those murderous eyes, but having spent a lifetime being arrogant alongside the vagrant, the old dog was ultimately bold. It bared its teeth and barked frantically.
Seth sneered. “You certainly are loyal.”
Thud! Thud! Thud!
In the pitch-black alley, muffled rhythmic sounds echoed down the deep path.
Seth, covered in dog blood, stood up and examined the scene. Fearing the dog wasn’t entirely dead, he considerately added two more blows. Only when the dog’s head was a shapeless mess stuck to the pavement did he satisfy himself and begin searching the vagrant.
The man had boasted about being the King of Beggars, yet his pockets held only two pathetic coins.
Seth disgustedly tucked the coins into his waistband and tore open the lining of the man’s heavy coat. His deep-blue eyes instantly lit up.
Sure enough, he pulled out a roll of “Government Bills.”
An oily flyer fell to the ground. Seth picked it up. The vivid headline caught his eye:
[Eliminate all forms of racial discrimination!]
[All humans are born free and equal in dignity and rights.]
[Whether you have an extra pair of wings, an extra eye, or a longer tongue and jumping power, you are entitled by right to social status, wealth, and respect.]
[Paradise Lost — A Date with You]
“Bullshit,” Seth sneered, casually tearing the pretentious thing to shreds and tossing it into the trash.
In the brutal life of this arms dealer, this was the first time he had shown mercy, merely “opening a flower” on someone’s head and calling it a day.
He should have known. If he hadn’t smashed his stepfather’s head with a broken bottle years ago, tied him to a rock, and sunk him to the bottom of a lake in December…
If that 1.9-meter-tall Slav with violent, sex-crazed blood had a chance to wake up again, it would have been a catastrophic defeat. God had given him that guidance since he was a child.
But this time, fearing trouble, he threw God back into a filthy puddle and spared the life of that maggot-like vagrant.
Sure enough, a week later, they met again.
Seth was subjected to a violent, one-sided beating by two buzz-cut bruisers in body armor brought by the vagrant. Hands in tactical gloves forcefully tore at the weak, pitiful tentacles on Seth’s back.
The men laughed, mocking how short the “things” were, so Seth bit off one of the man’s ears.
These two were clearly different from the vagrant. Their skills were obviously from the regular military. They cursed loudly while pulling the curled-up Seth off the ground to kick and punch him.
He recognized the insignia on their shoulders—it belonged to an international mercenary organization.
Those aren’t cheap.
Seth couldn’t open his eyes through the agonizing pain. Which enemy would travel thousands of miles just to give him a beating when he had fallen this low?
The vagrant, stepping in while the men were tired from kicking, gave him the answer.
“This is the freak you wanted, right? I found him for you,” the vagrant said, wiping his grimy hands on his pants with a sycophantic grin. “Now, about that reward you mentioned…”
Damn him!
If Seth hadn’t been lying there with his lungs kicked so hard he couldn’t breathe, he would have sliced this bastard into pieces, cut out his tongue, chopped off his fingers, and roasted his thigh meat to feed the dogs!
Seth twitched until his consciousness began to fade.
Through a ringing in his ears, he thought he heard a gunshot mixed with the men’s cruel laughter. In his peripheral vision, a figure collapsed.
Even as Seth lost consciousness, a spark of “you deserved it” satisfaction lingered in his heart.
The sun, scattering light like a sea urchin in the blue sky, was the last sun Seth saw before entering the dungeons of Paradise Lost.
One Month Later—
Twenty years ago, Sector F had been entirely absorbed into the front-line war zones. Near the boundary line of the residential area, there was a “Gate” with an exceptionally active index, clearly marked with a “Forbidden Zone” warning.
Paradise Lost was built right between the residential area and the Gate. This unique location allowed it to do business with both humans and “Abnormalities.”
A newcomer was brought into the damp, dim cell today. Seth, sitting on a bed plank, raised his eyelids with an indifferent look and cast a lazy glance.
“A newcomer?” “What is this thing? A snake? An eel?” “Idiot! It’s so long and so white, it’s obviously a snake!” “Wow, he’s burning up.”
The air was filled with chirping, noisy voices. The stinging pain at the back of Wen Zhu’s neck throbbed in sync with his heartbeat.
“What is it?” A lazy voice sounded from above, and the others instantly fell silent. “Throw it to the side.”
Just as the words were spoken, Wen Zhu looked up. He saw a face with deep-set eyes and a high brow. Those eyes were filled with bloody malice, and a look of irritation was etched between the brows—until it froze.
“Wait.”
Seth raised an eyebrow, crouched down, and tilted Wen Zhu’s chin up to inspect him closely.
Snake-man? Or Man-snake? Whatever. Who cares.
The upper half was a human torso with broad shoulders and a narrow waist—proportional with thin, well-defined muscles. The lower half, however, transformed into a porcelain-white, slender snake body. When he blinked, the white scales near his brow bone trembled involuntarily.
He was breathtakingly beautiful, like a Guan-yin statue carved from jade.
Perhaps the only flaw was how he lay there, pale and gasping for air; he looked sickly, as if he wouldn’t live much longer. But to Seth’s peculiar aesthetics, this was the icing on the cake.
“What’s your name?” Seth realized upon touching him that the thing was burning with an incredible fever.
Wen Zhu was delirious with fever. He hadn’t used his power in too long, and the rejection reaction with the “White Anaconda” was shockingly violent.
To Seth, he only saw a pair of golden vertical pupils misted with water. The snake scales were covered in fine beads of sweat, and the pale cheeks were flushed with an unnatural red.
The beautiful Naga said nothing. His beauty had bought him as much of Seth’s patience as it possibly could.
Seth frowned and was about to haul him up when Wen Zhu suddenly coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood that splattered across Seth’s hand.
“You really want to die, don’t you!” Seth stood up in a rage, raising a leg to kick Wen Zhu, but his arm was suddenly seized.
“Don’t kick him! He’s still having a fever!” A blur flashed past, and a pink skirt, grimy with dust, entered Wen Zhu’s vision. A furious, girlish voice sounded from above as she stood in front of the massive snake tail.
The next second, a rabbit head with a scarlet eyeball leaned down, revealing a row of fine, sharp teeth, grinning at Wen Zhu.
“…”
Wen Zhu wasn’t kicked to death by the hothead, but he was nearly frightened to death by the rabbit head. Closing his eyes, he simply passed out again.
Seth: “…”
He glanced at the unconscious Wen Zhu and then gave the Yellow Bunny a look. “You scared him awake, then back into a faint. You deal with it.”
This terrifying-looking “Good Samaritan” rabbit seemed to have a decent reputation in the room. As soon as Seth walked away, several colorful claws swarmed forward to help move the long white snake onto the iron bed.
“Brother Seth, he’s too hot.” “And?” “If he doesn’t cool down, he’ll die!” “Do things stop dying here? Don’t meddle.”
The surrounding air felt like boiling lava, soaking Wen Zhu from head to toe, leaving not even his nose and mouth spared. His heavy breathing was linked to twitching nerves.
A cool breeze blew.
Yellow Bunny’s two spiked claws were fanning vigorously beside him. Wen Zhu’s furrowed brow finally smoothed for a moment.
Then, he began to sweat even more, and his whole body started to shiver.
The crisscrossing blue veins on his body began to bulge. Starting from the left atrium, spider-web-like vessels spread outward, gradually crawling over Wen Zhu’s surface skin. They writhed, interlaced, and meandered. The rampaging veins began to engorge with blood, turning a shocking dark red, almost an eerie black.
Yellow Bunny’s scarlet eyes stared at those living veins as if possessed—until the claw she had placed on Wen Zhu was gripped tightly by a hand with prominent knuckles. She snapped awake.
Her ears turned a brilliant red instantly.
Oh… Oh my God!
She had almost tried to take liberties with a patient while he was unconscious! And she got caught!
Fortunately, the object of her affection was only experiencing a “last radiance before the end”; the next moment, he fell into a deep faint again.
Those living, blackened-red veins seemed to hit some form of suppression; they retreated in fear and disappeared with mysterious speed.
The whole process took only three to five seconds. Yellow Bunny felt as if she had been trapped in a hallucination. How could there be anything strange on this person…
Her red rabbit eyes blinked hard as she murmured, “Did I see that wrong?”