Chapter 150 Not a Provocation

While waiting for the selected candidate to arrive, Jiang Huan was escorted by several staff members to have some refreshments. Following Lü Pengchun's blatant hostility just moments earlier, everyone had now resolved to protect Jiang Huan at all costs—even if it meant going head-to-head with Lü Pengchun.

Compared to their tense expressions, Jiang Huan appeared quite relaxed. Unable to help himself, someone whispered a warning, "Are you really not scared? He genuinely wants you dead."

Jiang Huan turned her head and glanced at him. "I know. But in my eyes, he has never been a normal person to begin with."

"Th-then, let us help you slip out!"

Jiang Huan waved her hand dismissively. That wouldn't be necessary; she had absolute confidence in her own protective measures.

Just as the others were about to press her further, Lü Pengchun's people arrived.

The group turned around to look, and their expressions changed drastically.

Have they lost their minds? Just two days ago, this very man had brutally assaulted a woman in the safety zone and shown zero remorse. Relying on his status as a former member of the elite Monster Corps, he had traded his military merits to wipe his record clean. To make matters worse, there were still people willing to shield such a scumbag...

Using a beast like this to conduct an experiment with Jiang Huan meant that if it succeeded, Jiang Huan would still be stripped of a layer of skin; if it failed and Jiang Huan was killed, it would successfully divert everyone's hatred and minimize their own responsibility.

Qiao Yong's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes fixated on Jiang Huan as if he were looking at a plaything—or a corpse.

Jiang Huan responded to his gaze in kind.

A simple response.

She wrinkled her nose and put on a look of utter disgust.

Qiao Yong's sinister expression froze, instantly replaced by a flash of annoyance.

Well, well, easily triggered.

Continuing to push his buttons, Jiang Huan took two steps back and rolled her eyes. "Couldn't they have brought a clean, toxin-free partner?"

The implication was clear: the fellow before her was both filthy and toxic.

Qiao Yong took two steps forward, only to be blocked by Lü Pengchun. "Don't worry, Miss Jiang. Qiao Yong is a former Monster Corps member. None of you active-duty folks are toxic, and since he's been retired for so long, he's definitely cleaner than all of you."

A tainted woman actually had a boyfriend.

Ignoring him entirely, Jiang Huan simply stated that they should just begin the experiment. She still wanted to tour the capital afterward; having been summoned here out of nowhere, she hadn't even had a proper chance to look around the place.

The others exchanged regretful glances. Since Jiang Huan herself refused to actively resist, there was nothing they could do to help smuggle her out.

In truth, they all knew that under Lü Pengchun's watch, Jiang Huan was already a dead woman walking. They couldn't help wondering: if this was merely a material test, anyone could swing a blade to cut the fabric—why did they specifically have to bring in a combatant with a criminal record?

Lü Pengchun had merely claimed they also needed to test the wearer's bodily sensations and gather motion trajectory data after the clothing was put on.

In reality, these were all trivial excuses; any other test subject could have completely substituted for her.

The staff felt a lingering ache in their hearts, secretly hoping for a miracle.

At that very moment, a mile away, someone was driving toward them at breakneck speed.

Unable to contact Lü Pengchun's research institute directly, there was simply no way for them to halt the experiment in time.

Hurrying as fast as they could now, they could only hope they would make it.

Jiang Huan and Qiao Yong had already stepped into the third empty room.

Jiang Huan muttered inwardly that this research institute certainly had an endless supply of empty rooms.

Qiao Yong sneered, telling her to drop the act and beg for mercy early on—that way, he might at least grant her a quick death.

Jiang Huan reached a hand into her pocket, maintaining such a slovenly, carefree posture that Qiao Yong's rising irritation was immediately mirrored on his face.

He pulled a folding knife from his jacket. Just as everyone thought he was going to snap the folding knife back into place—as if that little display was merely an empty bluff meant to scare her—Jiang Huan showed no trace of fear. Instead, she struck a pose reminiscent of an upgraded military calisthenics routine used by the Monster Corps.

Most people wouldn't recognize the stance, but anyone who had served in the Monster Corps knew it meant one thing: a direct provocation.

"Hah, courting death." Feeling thoroughly insulted, Qiao Yong charged directly at her bare-handed. Crucially, he bypassed the experimental clothing completely and aimed straight for Jiang Huan's bridge of the nose.

His punch was fast and vicious; if it connected, a shattered nasal bone was an absolute certainty.

Jiang Huan dropped into a sudden squat and thrust her fist straight into his philtrum.

Well, though the anatomical location might be a bit awkward to describe, calling it a philtrum—was there really anything wrong with that?