The Head of the Family

Tu Ran tracked Mira Wells' position with care.

She inferred where Mira Wells was from the gunfire of Min Tao and the others, then circled around the stone pillar to the opposite side.

The thick pillar was more than enough to hide her.

Tu Ran was frustrated. She had so many abilities at her disposal, yet she couldn't use any of them. Even when evading the dragon's breath earlier, she'd only dared to tap into a sliver of her "Instant Shift" power—just enough to make her slightly faster than an ordinary person.

Cameras were everywhere. Her every move was being broadcast live to a legion of guards outside, and possibly even to Stephen Wells' office miles away.

If she exposed herself, she'd be cornered and captured just like those gene-modified creatures, then shipped off to the Research Institute for study.

But if she didn't use her abilities at all, how could the three of them possibly take down this gene-modified creature?

So she needed to find a spot where she could evade surveillance, and where Min Tao and the others couldn't follow.

Tu Ran already had a plan in mind.

She'd thought of it the moment she laid eyes on the lake.

Humans who drank the miracle drug might gain formidable physical abilities, but their intelligence plummeted to the level of animals.

After Tu Ran led her in circles four or five times, Mira Wells was completely disoriented. She circled the pillar in frustration, spitting out fires to vent, occasionally slamming her body against it.

Her brain, shrunk to the size of a fingernail, couldn't grasp that the human on the other side might have left. She stubbornly kept circling the stone pillar, searching for the one who had provoked her.

Tu Ran had long since left the pillar, slipping quietly into the third floor of the loft supported by the stone columns.

Min Tao and the other received her instructions and stopped firing.

"Hide yourselves," Tu Ran said into her earpiece.

Though they had no idea what she was planning, they cooperated, retreating to the ground floor of the loft where Mira Wells had been sleeping, slipping behind the door, and watching the scene outside through the crack.

Meanwhile, in a luxurious office high in a building towering over three hundred stories, a massive screen was streaming everything happening inside the ancient castle.

A dedicated operator seamlessly switched feeds from every angle, each frame focused on Tu Ran and the monster flying through the sky.

On a comfortable sofa, a man in a perfectly tailored suit leaned back, a glass of red wine in one hand, watching the screen.

"What's her name?" he asked.

"Tu Ran. Junior Pioneer in the Pioneer Team, first batch of trainees, graduated with top marks in multiple subjects. She's performed well in the Pioneer Team. In the recent incident involving an infectious alien on a train, she coordinated with Xie Xu, third son of the Xie Family, to prevent a large-scale outbreak and received commendation from the Federation."

Behind Stephen Wells, an elderly man with white hair spoke smoothly.

He didn't pause to think or pull up files from his communicator. Almost the moment Stephen Wells asked, the words flowed from his mouth, as if the information were etched into his memory.

Stephen tilted his head back and drained the red wine in one gulp.

"Haven't heard anything about Xie Xu lately. Is he still at the Research Institute?"

"Yes." The old man walked toward Stephen with mechanical steps, taking the empty glass from his hand and refilling it. "This is your third glass today, which has reached the maximum limit you set. Please adjust your mindset in time to avoid addiction."

Stephen swirled the wine in his glass with a calm air, his gaze returning to the screen as if he hadn't heard a word.

"What do you think she's doing up there?"

"Based on her movement trajectory and the angle of her gaze, she intends to jump down from above."

"Jump down? Is she trying to crush that stupid bird to death?" Stephen took a sip of his wine.

The old man said nothing.

By tone, Stephen was mocking. By experience, when Stephen mocked someone, he shouldn't chime in.

"I wonder how my aunt—such a sharp woman—could end up so stupid after turning into a monster."

"Certain components in the miracle drug damage the brain's nerves, causing them to atrophy and disappear, limiting cognitive function down to the level of lower animals," the old man said.

"Uncle Wei." Stephen turned his head, his gaze cold and fixed on him.

"I'm sorry, sir. My mistake." The old man lowered his head.

His accumulated experience with humans rarely led him astray.

First, Stephen Wells disliked others chiming in when he was mocking someone.

Second, Stephen Wells disliked it even more when someone mocked his family members.

Stephen rose from the sofa, walked to the desk, set the half-finished glass of red wine down, strapped on his watch, and turned to leave the office.

Without saying a single word.

Leaving the old man alone in the now-empty office.

He walked to the desk and quietly gazed at the remaining wine.

Third, Stephen Wells never wasted good wine—unless he was furious.

"Clean up," he said to the empty office.

In the corner behind him, a square metal contraption hummed to life, extending wheels from its base and rolling toward the old man. It stopped at his feet, its top lid opening to swallow the remaining wine.

At that same moment, on the big screen, Tu Ran kicked open a window and leaped out.

She landed on Mira Wells' back.

It was her most-used tactic.

Mira Wells began to thrash violently, just like any other alien creature before.

But unlike other aliens, Mira Wells had arms—arms that could fold back and claw at the human straddling her back.

Tu Ran gripped her long white hair with one hand to keep from falling off, while the other hand raised her pistol and fired at her arms.

The outer layer of her arms had grown hard armor made of the same material as her wings. Bullets ricocheted off with only faint sparks.

They couldn't penetrate at all.

But the pain was still there. Under the hail of gunfire, Mira Wells couldn't bring either arm close to Tu Ran.

Her scalp was one of the few soft spots on her body. Tu Ran yanked hard on her hair, pulling her scalp taut and aching. Mira spun her body at high speed, trying to throw her off.

But the faster she spun, the tighter Tu Ran's grip became from the inertial force—and the more her scalp hurt.

Furious, Mira could only vent by spitting flames in every direction before stopping her spin.

Noticing this, Tu Ran grabbed the roots of her hair with both hands and took control of her direction.

This was only the surface.