Antibody

Jiang Chao had a secret.

It wasn't the scar on the side of his neck—that scar had been seen by everyone over the past six years—it was something else: there was something in his blood that the Northern Base had spent three years searching for but couldn't find. It was called "Natural Antibody," the most valuable part of Project Dawn, and also the most dangerous.

On the way back to the Purge Base, Ji Ming got his left arm cut by a piece of shrapnel.

The shrapnel wasn't large, but it was stuck in the muscle. Shen An ordered the squad to halt, leaned against a broken wall, and performed emergency treatment on Ji Ming. Jiang Chao had been walking at the front, but he turned back when he heard the commotion.

"What happened?"

"Ji Ming's injured. Shrapnel."

"I can take that out." Jiang Chao walked over and pulled a knife from his belt—not his machete, but a small scalpel, its blade glinting silver in the sunlight.

"You know how to do this?"

"I've survived six years on the wasteland. There's nothing I can't do." Jiang Chao crouched beside Ji Ming. "Bear with it."

Ji Ming gritted his teeth. Jiang Chao moved fast—cutting open the flesh, picking out the shrapnel, applying medicine, and bandaging. The whole process took less than three minutes. Ji Ming's forehead was drenched in sweat, but he didn't make a sound.

"Nice technique," Shen An said.

"My brother taught me," Jiang Chao said as he put the scalpel away. "He used to be at the military medical university."

Shen An didn't respond.

When Jiang Chao stood up, the old scar on the side of his neck was exposed to the sunlight—three parallel claw marks, extending from behind his ear all the way down into his collar. The longest one was over ten centimeters. The scar had already turned white, but its shape was intact. An ordinary person's scratch could never leave such deep, clean marks.

"That scar," Shen An asked, "was it really from an Infected?"

"Yeah," Jiang Chao said. "Six years ago, a Tier-3 Infected tackled me to the ground. It raked its claws across my neck in three strokes. I thought I was dead."

"And then?"

"And then it died." Jiang Chao smiled, and in the wasteland sunlight, that smile seemed almost glaring. "Before its claws could slit my carotid artery, I pulled my knife from my belt and drove it into its eye socket."

Shen An looked at him—a Tier-3 Infected's reaction speed was three times faster than an ordinary person's. For a nineteen-year-old to survive under the claws of a Tier-3 Infected required not just luck, but a near-instinctive "combat intuition."

"After that," Jiang Chao continued, "I realized I was a little different. Other wandering hunters who got clawed by Infected either died or turned. I didn't die, and I didn't turn."

"Did you go see a doctor?"

"What doctor on the wasteland?" Jiang Chao shrugged. "I could only snatch some medical supplies from the Northern Base patrols. I examined myself—sent blood samples to a Scrap Station on the outskirts of the Northern Base for testing. Got the results three months later."

"And?"

"And the results got 'lost' by the Northern Base." Jiang Chao's gaze turned cold, as if he were speaking of something long past. "But three days later, I saw the Northern Base's Purge部队 heading toward my temporary shelter."

Shen An's mind raced—the Northern Base's Purge部隊 didn't usually deploy for a wandering hunter, unless that wandering hunter possessed something "worth deploying for."

"So you know," Shen An said, "that the Northern Base is looking for the antibody."

"I know."

"And you know what your blood means to the Northern Base."

"It means if I get caught, I'm an experiment," Jiang Chao said. "It means I die."

Shen An was silent. He'd just agreed to Jiang Chao's "blood sample" condition, but he didn't say—once the Northern Base got their hands on that blood sample, Jiang Chao's life would no longer be in his own hands.

"Jiang Chao."

"Yeah?"

"Tonight, when you come back to the Purge Base with us, I'll draw your blood on the way." Shen An looked at him. "But I'll keep the sample myself. I won't hand it over to the Northern Base."

Jiang Chao was stunned for a moment. "Why?"

"Because if I hand it over, you're dead." Shen An said. "I promised I'd let you leave alive."

Jiang Chao stared at him for a few seconds. "You've changed."

"What?"

"Back at the gas station, you were still figuring out how to squeeze every bit of intel out of me." Jiang Chao smiled, and there was something indescribable in that smile. "Now you're starting to think about me."

"That's not contradictory," Shen An said. "I want intel, but I don't want your life."

"Why?"

Shen An didn't answer. He didn't know himself.

Late at night, at the temporary encampment of the Purge Base.

Jiang Chao was assigned to a small tent on the perimeter—standard treatment for a "person of interest." Two Purge squad members were stationed at the tent entrance to "protect" him, which was really surveillance.

After finishing the day's mission report, Shen An came out of his quarters. Instead of heading to his own tent, he walked toward the tent on the perimeter.

The Purge squad member on night duty saw him and immediately snapped to attention. "Vice Captain."

"Open the door."

"Vice Captain, this guy—"

"Open the door."

Shen An's tone didn't change, but his eyes turned cold. The night-duty squad member immediately opened the door.

The tent was dark. Jiang Chao wasn't asleep. He was leaning against the cot in the corner, his machete lying across his knees—exactly the same posture as when he was on the second floor of the gas station. When he saw Shen An come in, he showed no surprise. "Here to collect intel?"

"Here to draw blood." Shen An pulled a blood collection tube from his pocket. "I keep my word."

Jiang Chao stood up and extended his arm.

Shen An walked over. The tent was narrow, and the two of them stood close together. Shen An could smell the scent on Jiang Chao—sweat, the rust of the wasteland, and a faint trace of tobacco.

"You smoke?" Shen An asked as he tied the tourniquet.

"Occasionally," Jiang Chao said. "When I'm in a bad mood."

"In a bad mood today?"

"Not bad." Jiang Chao smiled faintly. "At least I didn't die under the Purge部队's guns."

Shen An inserted the needle into Jiang Chao's vein. Jiang Chao didn't even flinch—he'd been stuck with needles too many times. Blood flowed out of the tube, darker and thicker than normal blood.

"Your blood density is higher than an average person's," Shen An said. "That's not a typical sign of Natural Antibody."

"What are you suspecting?"

"I'm thinking," Shen An said as he put the blood collection tube away, "there was a branch study in Project Dawn—'Enhanced Antibody.' It's not an antibody produced naturally by the human body. It's artificially injected."

"You think I was injected with something?"

"I'm not sure." Shen An looked at him. "But I am sure of one thing—an ordinary Infected scratch wouldn't have given you this antibody."

"Then what would?"

"It might have been the Infected you encountered six years ago." Shen An said. "It wasn't an ordinary Infected. It might have been artificially modified—its blood already carried an 'antiviral factor.' When its claws scratched you, those factors were injected into your body."

Jiang Chao was silent, then suddenly said: "My brother was researching this too. A month before he died, he sent me a letter. In it, he mentioned a 'Carrier Experiment' within Project Dawn—injecting the antiviral factor into Infected, turning them into 'Mobile Vaccines.'"

Shen An's pupils contracted. "Carrier Experiment—that was a failed branch. My father mentioned it in an internal report. All the Infected that received the experiment died within three weeks. Their immune systems couldn't withstand the injected factors."

"Then why didn't I die?"

"Two possibilities. First, you have some kind of natural immune trait that synergized with the injected factors. Second—" Shen An paused. "Second, you weren't scratched by an Infected. You were artificially injected."

The tent was silent for a few seconds. Then Jiang Chao suddenly laughed. "Vice Captain Shen, you've got quite an imagination."

"I'm just stating the possibilities."

"And if I'm the second one?" Jiang Chao looked into Shen An's eyes. "Who would have injected me?"

Shen An didn't answer. A name had already surfaced in his mind—but he didn't dare say it. That name was Jiang Lan.

Jiang Chao noticed Shen An's hesitation. "You know something. Don't hide it from me."

"I'm not sure." Shen An said. "I can only tell you this—if there really was a 'Carrier Experiment' within Project Dawn, there was only one person in charge of it."

"Who?"

"My father."

Jiang Chao's breath caught. "Your father—you're saying your father, the head of Project Dawn, experimented on me six years ago?"

"I have no evidence." Shen An said. "But the 'Carrier Experiment' my father conducted six years ago—I've seen some of the archives he left behind. All the Infected that received the experiment died within three weeks. No exceptions."

"Then I didn't die."

"Right." Shen An looked at him. "That's what I can't figure out."

"If I didn't die," Jiang Chao's voice turned cold, "then either the experiment went wrong with me, or—"

"Or the experiment wasn't done on me at all."

"What do you mean?"

"I have a guess." Shen An said. "Your brother—Jiang Lan—he was a researcher on Project Dawn. Is it possible he knew about the 'Carrier Experiment' and secretly injected the antiviral factor into your body?"

Jiang Chao's body stiffened. "My brother... a month before he died, he did send me something."

"What?"

"A letter. And a vial of药剂."

"That vial—"

"I used it." Jiang Chao said. "The letter said, 'This is your only chance to survive.' I didn't think much of it at the time. It was the apocalypse, after all. Anything could be a chance to survive. I injected it."

"How long after that did the Infected scratch you?"

"Three weeks."

"Three weeks." Shen An's breathing quickened. "That's it. Jiang Lan injected you with the antiviral factor before you were scratched by the Infected. The scratching incident—he might have known about it in advance."

"He knew I would be scratched?"

"He might have known that 'that particular Infected' would be placed on the road you normally took." Shen An said. "There was a concept in Project Dawn called 'Mobile Vaccine'—using modified Infected to 'randomly' scratch humans on the wasteland, injecting the antiviral factor. It was the most efficient way to conduct human trials."

"My brother was involved in this?"

"I don't know." Shen An said. "But if the药剂 he injected you with was a product of Project Dawn, then he must have known things that others didn't."

The tent fell silent.

Jiang Chao leaned against the wall, his brow furrowed. He had never wanted to think about what his brother "did in Project Dawn." His brother was his family, not a scientist, not a researcher—the only person he had trusted since childhood.

But if his brother really was involved in Project Dawn—

"He was protecting me," Jiang Chao said suddenly. "No matter what he did, he was protecting me."

Shen An didn't speak. He thought of Jiang Lan—the man who had lunged at him and pinned him to the ground when the Dawn Incident broke out. He hadn't understood why Jiang Lan saved him back then. Now he understood: Jiang Lan was protecting everyone. Protecting him. Protecting Jiang Chao. Protecting all those kept in the dark about Project Dawn. The price was his own life.

"The day my brother died," Jiang Chao said. "Was it because he knew too much?"

"I think so."

"Did your father kill him?"

"I saw it with my own eyes." Shen An said. "My father picked up a gun and shot him through the side of the neck."

Jiang Chao's eyes reddened. He didn't cry. He hadn't cried in many years. But in that moment, his eyes turned terrifyingly red.

"Vice Captain Shen," Jiang Chao said. "Are you going to pay that debt for your father?"

Shen An didn't answer. He didn't know how to answer. A voice inside him said: You should pay it for him. But another voice said: You didn't do it. Why should you be the one to pay?

"I'll find out the truth." Shen An said at last. "And then I'll make sure the people who owe the debt pay it."

"Who owes the debt?"

"My father, Lu Shihan, and everyone involved in Project Dawn."

"Including yourself?"

Shen An didn't answer.

When Shen An came out of the tent, the sky was almost light. He stood at the entrance of the barracks for a while, then pulled a cigarette from his pocket—he didn't smoke, but everyone on the wasteland kept a few on hand, sometimes for trading, sometimes to make themselves "look normal."

He didn't light it. He just rolled it between his fingers.

The wind on the wasteland carried the特有的 chill of early morning. He looked up at the sky. A trace of grayish-white had already appeared on the eastern horizon.Ji Ming stepped out of the barracks: "Deputy Commander, did you just go to see that person?"

"Yeah."

"You got the blood sample?"

"I did." Shen An put away his cigarette. "Don't tell anyone about this. Not even Minister Lu."

"Are you suspecting—"

"I suspect a lot of things," Shen An said. "It's not time to talk about it yet."

Ji Ming didn't ask further. He followed Shen An back into the barracks. Shen An sat down at the camp table and carefully placed Jiang Chao's blood sample into his inner pocket. Staring at the tube of dark red blood, he suddenly felt something he couldn't quite describe—it wasn't just the antibodies in Jiang Chao's blood that he wanted. He wanted to understand this person.

This "wanting" had no place in the twenty-seven years of his life experience. He didn't know how to handle it.

Since childhood, he had been taught to be "rational," to "calculate," to "not have emotions"—emotions were "variables that reduce judgment accuracy." But tonight, in Jiang Chao's tent, for the first time, he felt an urge to "get close to someone."

It frightened him. He didn't know whether he should fear the impulse itself, or fear what irrational things he might do because of it.

He locked the blood sample in the drawer of the camp table and said to Ji Ming, "I'll write tomorrow's mission report myself. As for Jiang Chao—"

"I won't write it," Ji Ming said. "I understand."

"And," Shen An's voice dropped, "help me look up a file—the 'Carrier Experiment' branch of Project Dawn. The Northern Base archives should have a backup."

Ji Ming's expression shifted. "Deputy Commander, that file is Class-S classified. Minister Lu—"

"I don't need the original. Just a summary."

"I don't have clearance for a summary either."

"Go to the Scrap Station and find a man called 'Old Ghost,'" Shen An said. "He's a former Project Dawn researcher. Three years ago, he got infected and was 'disposed of' by the Northern Base, but he didn't die. He's now trading at the Scrap Station and has an unofficial copy of the 'Carrier Experiment' files."

Ji Ming was stunned. "Deputy Commander, how did you—"

"I know more than you think," Shen An said. "Go."

As Ji Ming walked out of the barracks, Shen An added behind him: "Ji Ming."

"Yes."

"If my father really is still alive," Shen An said softly, "would you still stay by my side?"

Ji Ming turned around. Under the moonlight, Shen An's face was pale, and in his eyes was a confusion Ji Ming had never seen before.

"Deputy Commander," Ji Ming said, "I've been with you for two years. Not because of whose son you are, but because of who you are."

Shen An didn't reply. He waved his hand, signaling Ji Ming to leave.

Moonlight streamed through the barracks window, falling onto the tube of dark red blood sample. Shen An stared at it for a long time—hidden in this tube of blood might be not just antibodies, but also the secrets of his father, Jiang Lan, and the entire Project Dawn.

He suddenly remembered what Jiang Chao had said in the tent: "He was protecting me. Whatever he did, he was protecting me."

Jiang Chao was talking about his brother, but for some reason, those words reminded Shen An of another person—Jiang Lan.

On the night Project Dawn broke out, Jiang Lan had thrown himself over Shen An, pinning him to the ground, trading his own life for Shen An's.

Did Jiang Lan know his father would kill him?

Did Jiang Lan know the truth about Project Dawn?

Why did Jiang Lan shove the photo into his hands before dying, telling him to "keep the truth for Jiang Chao"?

These questions were like thorns digging into Shen An's heart. He knew he had to find the answers—not just for Jiang Chao, but for himself.

He owed Jiang Lan a life. He owed Jiang Chao the truth.

These two debts, he had to repay.