Chapter Twelve: Surgery

We switched to the elevator, ascending directly to the fiftieth floor. The entrance to the Rangers' barracks was marked by a cold, massive iron door—though compared to the Deep Sea Prison, it was nothing remarkable. Lamia opened the door with her palm print. It seemed our marriage news had already spread, as the Rangers we passed glanced our way. The facilities on this floor were mostly wrought from iron, giving the place a monotonous, oppressive weight, filled with intimidation.

The barracks occupied the fiftieth to the sixty-fifth floors. The main elevator only reached this level; to access the rest, one had to use the barracks' internal express lifts. As previously mentioned, the Black Coffin’s elevator system was a labyrinthine warren.

I couldn't remember how many procedures Lamia had completed before my records were finally in order. In front of a meeting room with a large glass window, I met a woman with short white hair—compact, wiry, brimming with strength. She must be Lamia’s superior, Jiu Nan.

Jiu Nan smiled. "Seeing you two reminds me of my younger days," she said, holding Lamia's hand with a familiar warmth. Jiu Nan was one of the Rangers’ commanders, and a noblewoman residing on the upper floors.

After a brief exchange with Lamia, her eyes fell on me. "You found Yunier. The Consul is pleased—his great pioneering plan can finally be put into action. This is a significant achievement; your efforts will not be forgotten."

I doubted her words. Our merits would not only be forgotten, but there would be no reward at all.

Lamia responded, "Yes, Commander." After a pause, she continued, "About Longinus’s employment application..."

Jiu Nan waved it off. "That’s no trouble at all. Guess what? At last night’s banquet, Marquis Michael made a grand introduction of your husband to everyone. He even said Longinus possesses some kind of superhuman ability—can you imagine? How novel!"

Michael wasn't as ungrateful as I'd imagined. This gave me time to postpone my plans for robbing the rich to aid the poor.

Unconsciously, I straightened my back, my chest seemed to swell. I must have looked imposing and formidable at that moment.

Lamia laughed. "Really? He’s too kind."

Jiu Nan added, "After Michael’s speech, everyone asked the reserved and taciturn Marquis Legang. He too was full of praise for Longinus. So, you see, I came out early this morning to greet you both personally."

Lamia replied, "We’re honored by your attention, truly flattered."

I maintained an inscrutable silence, bowing to Jiu Nan.

"He’s a man of few words—the mark of a true master," she remarked.

I responded with a faint, indifferent smile.

Lamia explained, "He’s just a little nervous and shy."

I lost my smile.

Jiu Nan continued, "We have countless plans for Yunier’s talents. Soon, you’ll be busy again. But for this week, you four are assigned light duties—just shifts in the building and the town. Lamia, off you go. I’ll take Longinus on a tour."

I pondered how best to curry favor with this lady, hoping for a swift promotion. Now that I had a resounding reputation, she would surely put me to good use. I predicted that before long, I’d win further achievements and rise rapidly. The day I would rule the Black Coffin could not be far.

Jiu Nan said, "Our Rangers are divided into two camps." She smiled as she spoke. "But don’t misunderstand—they’re not opposed. Quite the contrary, we often cooperate."

"I understand, Commander," I replied. Frequent cooperation was less important; occasional rivalry was what truly mattered.

She explained, "Floors fifty to sixty-five belong to our Valkyrie Assault Regiment. Sixty-six to eighty are the Meizong Laboratory. We’re both military and scientific organizations, but their research diverges from ours. That’s where our little disagreements stem from."

I already knew Lamia had reported Kira’s betrayal. "The Meizong Laboratory transforms people into demons," I said.

"That’s not exactly right," Jiu Nan replied. "How could a person become a demon? Kira—yes, him—only partially transformed into something resembling a demon."

"You’re right, Commander," I said.

Jiu Nan led me directly to the sixty-fourth floor. It was like a hospital from an ancient encyclopedia: white floors, walls, and lights, with corridors lined with consultation and surgery rooms. The sound of electric saws cutting through something echoed from inside.

A chill tingled at my scalp.

Jiu Nan, like a mother guiding her child through a museum, led me past many display cases. Inside were metallic organs, suspended mid-air by a tangle of pipes.

It reminded me of the laboratory where Faga was born.

But I felt calm. To survive in this world, one must always pay a price.

She pointed to a blue lung. "This is the Blue Bridge. We’ve redesigned it. It’s half a kilo heavier, but allows you to swim underwater for two hours—and it’s bulletproof."

We moved along. She showed me a blue heart. "This is the Iron Fortress. It’s six hundred grams heavier, endures high-velocity blood flow, and has a built-in defibrillator."

Then blue bones, blue veins, blue muscles, blue scales, blue eyeballs. I watched impassively, eager to slip away.

Jiu Nan laughed. "In short, apart from that part, we can almost fully remake the human body in this way."

"Which part, Commander?" I asked.

She winked at me conspiratorially. "You know—the one I’ve heard yours is rather good."

My face flushed; my heart pounded. Was she hinting at something? For a moment, my loyalty to my wife and ambition for the future clashed within me.

But she continued, "The brain. That’s the only part we can’t touch. Ah, if only I knew the craftsmanship behind Faga’s creation."

Why did I feel a flicker of disappointment?

We reached the central canteen, where officers from the research division dined. Jiu Nan ordered two coffees, and we sat. She sighed. "Lamia and Salvador are like my children. I adopted them back then."

"Then you’re my mother-in-law," I said.

She laughed heartily. "That’s one way to see it. But I’m always impartial. Precisely because you’re Lamia’s husband, I’ll be even stricter with you."

I wisely kept silent.

She went on, "I’ve been modified too. I’m undoubtedly one of the longest-lived Rangers. If not for my enhanced body, I’d have been torn apart in the last great war. My days of fighting are over. Now it’s your generation’s turn to walk onto the stage of history. Humanity’s revival is a long campaign; we need patience and courage."

What I yearned for was power, but that didn't conflict with the Black Coffin’s great endeavor.

Jiu Nan lit a cigarette, sending smoke curling through the air. "The Blue Bridge lungs filter out nicotine. That’s their greatest advantage. I’ve had all my teeth replaced too—otherwise, my mouth would be stained yellow, and how unsightly would that be?" She laughed self-mockingly.

I glanced at the sign above her: "Smoking Prohibited in Public Areas."

I said nothing.

She continued, "Not everyone can become a Ranger. Bodies differ. Some, if fitted with Blue Bridge lungs, would cough and spit blood until they died within an hour. Others, with iron arms or legs, would find their skeletons failing early. Betty and Salvador, for example, only had a few serums and minor parts added to boost heart and lung function."

"How much has Lamia been modified?" I asked.

"She’s one in a million—throughout the regiment’s history, few like her exist. Her eyes, limbs, heart, lungs, throat, digestive tract, and... well, as her husband, you know. She seems delicate, but her weight has increased by fifty kilograms."

I knew, but I didn’t care. She was my wife, my beloved.

Jiu Nan gazed at the smoke, crushed out her cigarette. "She’s like a child of demons."

"Nephilim?" I asked.

Jiu Nan looked at me directly. "You’ve heard of them?"

"In my scavenging days, I read similar files," I replied.

"Yes, Nephilim, that’s the term. Some believe these mutants, who can withstand massive modifications, carry demon blood—the offspring of fallen angels. But in my view, they're simply born different, genetic mutations."

I felt a thirst, sipped my coffee. "Nothing strange about that. Consider Marquis Michael..."

Suddenly, I realized this might be a forbidden subject.

Jiu Nan hushed me. "Never mention that to anyone."

I nodded vigorously, drained my coffee. A server collected our cups.

"Lamia can still be considered human, but the marquises aren’t," Jiu Nan said.

"Michael thinks of himself as a kind of god," I said.

Jiu Nan reached for her cigarettes but stopped. "For now, it’s true. Michael, Legang, and Vasilisa of the Sword and Shield Society—they certainly could say so."

"It’s a kind of sickness, surely—a violent genetic mutation. Don’t you think?"

"Perhaps," Jiu Nan replied. "But they’re no longer human. Whether they’re above or below us, who can say?"

At that moment, the server approached, handing Jiu Nan a slip of paper. She read it, eyes wide with surprise. "You and Lamia are truly made for each other."

Thinking she congratulated us, I hurried to thank her. She shook her head. "Your physical exam results are out."

"But I haven’t—" I began, then realized: my saliva had been on the coffee cup.

"You’re one of those mutants too," Jiu Nan said.

"Nephilim?" I asked.

She stood, pinched my shoulder and chest. "Let’s begin. The surgery will take an entire day at least."

I panicked, unsure whether to agree or refuse. I pleaded, "Can’t I have some time to think?"

She laughed. "No. Our surgery schedule is full; today is the only open slot. I’ll have the best doctors operate on you."

"Can I choose which organs are modified?" I asked.

She looked me up and down with a sly smile. "Don’t worry, we won’t touch that part."

I groaned. "Wh—where?"

Her hand slid down from my chest, chilling me to the bone.

"You know," she said, laughing.