Just like on the hillside, the moment Natarle's gaze fell upon the blond man, he seemed to sense it and abruptly turned his head. Natarle scrutinized the man, then lowered her head to look at the boy clinging closely to her side.
A series of information flashed through her mind, and a vague sense of foreboding welled up in her heart.
When Ray Le Creuset's eyes fell upon the little boy, he froze for a moment, then a faint smile curled at the corners of his lips. "What a strange twist of fate."
Durandal followed his gaze, frowned, and spoke in a calm, emotionless tone, "So he's still alive?"
The two of them began walking toward Natarle.
Nearby, Zhao Qi also noticed the resemblance between the boy and the blond man, but as a member of the intelligence unit, he immediately sensed something amiss.
He approached Natarle and whispered, "They look too much alike—from their eyebrows, hair color, facial structure, to the shape of their skulls… Even if they were father and son, they shouldn't be this similar."
Natarle had already learned from Zhou Tianming that the research institute was conducting experiments on humans, and now she became even more certain of the truth—this child was a clone of the blond man.
Shielding the little boy and pulling him behind her, Natarle glared coldly at the two approaching men.
"Thank you for the rescue," Ray Le Creuset's voice was deep and magnetic, his tone gentle. "Could you return the child to me?"
"Is he really your child?" Natarle's tone was sharp as a blade.
Ray Le Creuset offered a warm smile. "Naturally. I believe our resemblance speaks for itself."
"What is the child's name?"
Ray Le Creuset faltered, his face stiffening for a moment.
At that moment, Durandal, standing nearby, smiled and said, "Ray. The child's name is Ray."
Natarle's gaze swept over the two men, her eyes filled with suspicion.
Just then, she felt the little boy trembling as he pressed tightly against her.
Looking down, she saw the boy staring intently at Durandal, his pale blue eyes filled with fear.
Protecting the child, she took a few steps back, while Zhao Qi moved closer, positioning himself between the two sides.
Ray Le Creuset narrowed his eyes, while Durandal maintained a faint smile.
The atmosphere between them grew tense.
Ray Le Creuset said, "Holding onto someone else's child and refusing to return him is not a good thing."
Natarle replied, "If he is truly your child, I will naturally return him."
"Do you doubt that he is?"
"I believe you have conducted inhumane experiments on this child. Until the investigation is complete, I will not let him go with you."
Ray Le Creuset took a step forward.
Zhao Qi also stepped forward but suddenly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face.
Ray Le Creuset swiftly sidestepped as a pair of large hands, meant to grab his shoulders, swept past him with a whoosh.
Qin Feng's booming voice rang out, "What do you think you're doing to my friend? Trying to start a fight?"
Gu Yue and Li Xin stepped forward together, closing in.
The entire East Asian squad assembled, flanking Ray Le Creuset and Durandal from both sides.
Durandal swept his gaze around with interest, showing no trace of panic on his face.
Ray Le Creuset completely ignored them and looked at Natarle instead. "You know quite a bit—are you involved? Even if you take him away, what can you do?" After saying this, he turned and left.
Natarle gritted her teeth, her face flushed with anger.
Qin Feng grinned and stepped forward to block their path, but when he met Ray Le Creuset's pale blue eyes, his body stiffened and he froze in place.
As the two walked away, Gu Yue slapped Qin Feng's back in dissatisfaction. "What were you doing?"
But he felt something wet on his hand. Looking down, he saw that Qin Feng's white tank top was soaked with sweat.
Startled, he asked, "Are you okay?"
Qin Feng shook his head. "I'm fine. That man isn't ordinary. It's the first time I've seen such eyes—I only felt one thing: sheer terror." Everyone turned to look at the distant figures with grim expressions.
"Aren't we going to act?" Durandal asked curiously. "It shouldn't take much effort to deal with them."
"No need," Ray Le Creuset replied with an amused smile. "I'm quite curious about how another fate might unfold. The formula is already complete, and this child is no longer of use. Weren't we just discussing how to handle him? This works out perfectly."
Ray Le Creuset raised his hand and studied his palm. "I've always wondered whether this filthy blood of mine is rotten from the genes or because of this world. This seems like a perfect opportunity to observe."
"Keep an eye on him for me. Let's see what he grows into—whether he becomes as arrogant and disgusting as that man or, like me, filled with hatred after learning the truth. I'm truly curious."
Durandal remained silent, stealing a glance back at the little boy.
Ray Le Creuset chuckled. "I thought you hated children. Why did you even give him a name?"
"I still do," Durandal replied, a flicker of recollection crossing his face before he composed himself. "It's just… an indescribable feeling." He walked ahead alone, murmuring under his breath, "Talia…"
Watching his retreating figure, Ray Le Creuset smirked. "That's what makes it interesting, isn't it?"
Natarle knelt down, looking directly into the confused eyes of the little boy before embracing him tightly.
Though not well-versed in genetics, she had heard that cloned beings had short lifespans. She mourned the child's plight.
Yet, thinking of Zhou Tianming, a glimmer of hope surfaced in her heart.
Placing her hands on Ray's shoulders, she said, "Don't give up. Tian Ming will surely find a way."
Ray tilted his head, looking bewildered.
The others had also learned the situation from Zhao Qi and sighed as they looked at the child. The joy of their reunion faded instantly.
"Huh? Why is the communication cut off again?"
A voice of surprise rose from the crowd.
Like a chain of dominoes, others soon noticed the same issue.
Someone went to ask the guards on duty, only to find that their radio equipment had also lost connection.
Natarle and the East Asian squad realized something was wrong and shouted, "Everyone, be careful! Those vines can interfere with communications!"
"What?"
The crowd looked over in confusion, but before anyone could ask, the ground began to tremble.
Then, the marble tiles of the spaceport cracked, and blood-colored vines, like tentacles, burst forth.
They surged like a tsunami from flat ground, engulfing everyone in an instant.
Screams erupted.
The vines were small in size but numerous, moving amidst the crowd. The nearby soldiers hesitated to open fire and were instantly overwhelmed.
Like serpents, the vines coiled around people, wrapping them tightly. Those caught struggled desperately but soon fell still, slipping into unconsciousness.
Only two areas remained untouched.
The first was Natarle and the East Asian squad. Having kept their distance from the crowd, they faced fewer vines and had ample room to evade. Though experienced and constantly maneuvering to defend themselves, they were gradually being worn down.
The second was Ray Le Creuset and Durandal. Their situation was peculiar—vines rose like walls, trapping the two securely but refraining from attack. Just then, a man entered through the spaceport's main entrance. As he advanced, the vines parted before him like the Red Sea, clearing a path. Both Natarle and Ray Le Creuset turned to look.
Natarle was astonished that someone could control the vines, while Ray Le Creuset immediately recognized the man—Weber-Walter.
His clothes were tattered, his expression wild with desperation. He stopped before Durandal and pleaded, "Mr. Durandal! Please save my wife! It should have worked! Why did this happen? Why?"
"Captain Weber, calm down and explain slowly," Durandal said gently. "What's going on? How can I help you?"
"You can do it! You must be able to! You must!"
Weber muttered to himself, then made a grasping motion. Instantly, vines slithered like snakes, coiling around Durandal and lifting him into the air.
Durandal showed no trace of fear, only resignation. He remarked wryly, "It seems having too much talent isn't always a good thing. Ray, hurry up and save me."
Ray Le Creuset glanced around, then shrugged and spread his hands. "I'll do my best. Don't let Jill die ahead of time."
"Do your best."
With Weber gone, the vines receded like a retreating tide. The entire spaceport was left empty—devoid of blood, devoid of corpses.