VHBF -Chapter 125 The Bigshot Researcher Daddy (Part 15)

The hard, rough sole of a leather shoe came down on her face. The man, furious to the extreme, ground down with a half-smile that wasn’t quite a smile. Lin Ju dazedly felt as if her face had been crushed, unable even to make a sound to beg for mercy.

Under those eyes filled with malice, it was as though she had fallen into an icy abyss. The blood throughout her body froze, cooled, solidified.

A look of pleading surfaced in Lin Ju’s eyes. She wanted to cry, to beg, to plead with him to show mercy and let her go. She would never dare again—never again. This devil was truly too terrifying. He said nothing; he only stepped on her face like this, and that alone was enough to drive fear to its utmost extreme.

Summoning all the strength in her body, forcing her facial muscles to move, she struggled to prop herself up and opened her mouth with a trembling voice. “I—I… please, please…”

She wanted to say it wasn’t intentional, that she was willing to compensate, to beg him to let her leave.

Her words came out broken and incomplete; she hadn’t even finished speaking when, in the next instant, the man suddenly exerted force. A tremendous pain burst from her chest. Lin Ju felt herself fly through the air—only a brief moment—and then with a loud bang she slammed into the wall.

The laboratory was completely sealed, its walls made of brand-new steel materials—unbelievably hard. Lin Ju crashed into the wall, then rebounded and fell onto the floor, injury piling upon injury.

In that moment, it felt as if her internal organs had shifted out of place. A massive, stabbing pain spread from her chest to every limb. The blood that had frozen solid seemed to turn to ash. Lin Ju wished she would just pass out, yet her consciousness grew ever clearer.

She stared wide-eyed in terror at the man continuing to walk toward her.

A devil. He was a devil!

A lunatic. A madman!

Lin Ju shook her head frantically. “N-no, don’t, don’t…”

Would a devil ever show mercy?

He didn’t continue attacking. Instead, he crouched down in front of her, the corner of his mouth curling into a crooked arc. “Your surname is Lin? Lin Ju?”

“Oh, that’s not important. What’s important is—you hurt my daughter today?”

Mo Linqing had originally wanted to reach out and pat her face, the way one would contemptuously pat a tiny crawling creature, but finding it dirty, he simply didn’t. Instead, he picked up a tube from the laboratory floor and casually tapped it against her face, looking at her as though she were nothing more than a clump of filthy mud on the ground.

Lin Ju trembled. He wasn’t human—he didn’t even regard her as human!

“Listen, little crawler. I’ll give you a chance—what kind of death do you want?”

Mo Linqing swept his gaze around the laboratory, gesturing with his eyes at the equipment inside. “You’re so ugly—probably not even qualified to be a specimen. How about becoming a drug human instead?”

“Aren’t you very interested in my Z virus? Then why not test it on yourself? Inject Z into your body—how about you coexist with it?”

He seemed to sigh softly. “That way, your painstaking efforts won’t go to waste. You two are a perfect match—you belong together.”

“My little darling has truly suffered. Poor thing—having to spend the rest of its life coexisting with an ugly woman.”

Mo Linqing carried the unconscious Yinyin out, placed her on the small sofa in the office, and locked the office door from the inside. He took a vial of medicine from the cabinet, dissolved it in water, and fed it into the child’s mouth.

Sitting beside her, he gently patted her chest, humming softly—a tune Yinyin loved most, Little Bear Baby.

At first, Yinyin was still trembling. Her lips were pale, though her face was faintly flushed—perhaps because the bad person had choked her before she lost consciousness, trapping her in a nightmare. In a tiny, milky voice, she cried and murmured for her daddy.

Mo Linqing bent down and kissed her forehead. “Be good. Daddy’s going to avenge you.”

Gradually, under his soothing and after taking the medicine, about half an hour passed. Yinyin calmed down, still sleeping heavily, her two chubby little hands clutching her clothes tightly.

Was it because she had been too frightened—so frightened that she kept gripping her own clothes?

Mo Linqing stared at her hands, his gaze dark and heavy. He had come back too late. The child had already passed out before she even saw him.

If he had arrived earlier—if he had rescued her before she lost consciousness—perhaps she wouldn’t be this afraid, wouldn’t fall asleep carrying such deep-seated terror.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness washed over him. Mo Linqing blinked, bracing himself against the sofa; the veins on his arm bulged, betraying his pain.

Yet he still curled his lips into a smile and lowered his head in mockery. “About to wake up? Seeing your daughter hurt—does that make you heartache?”

“Just stay put obediently. I’ll take revenge for the kid!”

Mo Linqing’s expression shifted in an instant. The wicked aura vanished, replaced by a clear, icy coldness. His words, as always, were concise. “What you need to do right now is send Yinyin to the hospital.”

Then, just as abruptly, his face changed again, a triumphant smile blooming. “The kid drank my medicine—far more effective than any trash medicine from the hospital.”

“This is my body.”

“Mo Linqing, don’t forget—your body is also my body. Even… your daughter is mine too.”

For a brief moment, Mo Linqing’s face froze over.

The system watched as the villain played two roles by himself, his aura swinging between icy cold and wickedly unrestrained. Even a system felt twisted by the sight.

Covering its eyes, it thought—thank goodness the little child was asleep and couldn’t see her beloved, great daddies splitting personalities like this, or her image of them would completely shatter.

After feeding another bottle of medicine, Mo Linqing ended the episode. He lowered his head and gently patted the child’s cheek. “Be good and wait. Daddy’s going to be your great hero.”

The medicine he gave Yinyin didn’t just calm and heal—it also carried a mild sedative effect, allowing her to sleep peacefully for two hours. It aided physical recovery and had excellent therapeutic effects on the mind as well.

Mo Linqing turned and stepped into the laboratory.

Tick-tock~ tick-tock.

Leather shoes struck the floor, drawing closer step by step.

Lin Ju was on the verge of madness. She had been locked inside a transparent box in the laboratory—clearly a container meant for experimental materials, now used to imprison a living person like her.

That kick had caused internal injuries; she even suspected her organs were damaged. A strong metallic taste surged up her throat, wave after wave of blood.

She was trapped in the box, stifled and unable to move, only able to make hoarse, rasping gasps. The air inside was extremely thin; the only place for ventilation was a few small holes drilled into one side of the transparent wall. Lin Ju pressed her entire face against those air holes, gulping for breath. From the outside, her face was smashed tight against the box wall, so distorted it looked horrifyingly ugly.

Black leather shoes stopped in front of the box. Mo Linqing clicked his tongue twice. “So ugly.”

He paid no more attention to this eyesore and instead turned to the lab bench where the Z virus had been cultivated before, beginning his work.

Did this idiot Lin Ju really think that stealing the Z virus meant everything would be fine? Although Mo Linqing didn’t know her true purpose, with his intellect he didn’t need to ask to guess most of it.

At the critical moment when she was about to be dismissed, she’d taken the risk of sneaking into his lab to steal the virus—there had to be a reason she had to do it. Nothing more than two possibilities: one, for the Z virus’s powerful healing ability belonging to that “primary personality”; two, for the virus after his mutation…

Whichever it was, she was doomed to fall.

Mo Linqing took out the previously frozen backup Z-virus embryo and began processing it.

To him, modifying a Z-virus embryo was as simple as cooking a dish. Red, blue, yellow liquids were continuously poured into the transparent vessel…

Second by second passed. In the end, the liquid inside turned a deep sea blue—dark and heavy, like abyssal seawater.

Mo Linqing drew it into a syringe and slowly walked toward Lin Ju.

Lin Ju shook her head in despair. Suddenly she understood: what she’d stolen wasn’t the truly mutated Z virus—this one was!

Her whole body trembled violently, like an epileptic seizure. She went mad, slamming the box wall. “I have something to say! I have something to say! Let me out!”

Mo Linqing crouched down and tilted his ear as if listening. His handsome profile, in Lin Ju’s eyes, looked like a demon.

He smiled and, out of “kindness,” opened the box’s switch, idly toying with the tube of deep-blue liquid in his hand.

Lin Ju crawled out of the box. She didn’t try to run—she knew it was useless. Her spatial ability had suddenly malfunctioned; she couldn’t enter it. The path ahead was completely blocked by this man. Even if she tried to flee, leaving aside whether she even had the strength, at best she’d just earn herself another kick.

She looked up at his chin and said, “I know the secret of this world. I know everything about your future.”

Mo Linqing narrowed his eyes. “So you knew about the Z virus because you ‘foresaw’ it?”

“Then you should also know that I originally intended to create a virus that would destroy everything?”

Lin Ju stiffly nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. The cold surface reflected her current wretched state—she looked as if she’d been hauled straight out of water, her bangs plastered messily to her forehead, a shoeprint still on her face, mixed with sweat and grime.

She raised her head with hatred, and with that bone-deep resentment finally dared to meet the demon’s eyes.

“This world is a book. You’re the protagonist and also the villain in it. In the future you’ll destroy this world. What’s wrong with me trying to stop you?!”

“Mo Linqing, you demon! You madman!!!”

The man glanced at her lazily. Even hearing about transmigration and entering a book, he showed not the slightest surprise. His world was a book? He was a character on paper?

Mo Linqing laughed. “That’s all you’ve got? You think this can save your worthless life? You’re far from enough.”

“Mo Linqing, don’t you want to know everything about your future?”

“I know it all, haha, I know everything! Let me go and I’ll tell you immediately.”

Originally, Mo Linqing wasn’t interested. How he lived his life wasn’t something a few words from someone else could dictate. He would live however he wanted.

Then he suddenly thought of the little brat outside, sleeping soundly.

Mo Linqing stood up, looking down at Lin Ju. “What do you know? Speak. I’ll give you a chance.”

Lin Ju had thought this arrogant demon truly didn’t care about the information she held, and she’d been panicking. She didn’t expect him to agree so quickly.

After a brief thought, her muddled mind suddenly lit up. She remembered the child this demon held so carefully in his palm—his daughter.

Even demons have weak points.

Lin Ju suddenly wanted to laugh.

She’d grabbed the demon’s handle.

Her whole body filled with strength. She even felt she could walk out alive on the strength of this—so long as she got out… so long as she could get out…

The sky would still be blue, the sun warm, the water sweet, the air fresh. From then on, who cared about world destruction or saviors? She’d stockpile supplies for a lifetime and live freely with her space!

But—but what did she actually know about Mo Linqing’s daughter? In her past life, the book hadn’t mentioned a villain’s daughter at all. It only said the villain had a father who died before the apocalypse, leaving him alone.

Lin Ju couldn’t give up this chance. She lowered her eyes. After a long while—before the man grew impatient—she finally spoke. “I… I know.”

“Your daughter…”

“You really will let me go? You won’t lie to me?!”

Seeing the man nod, Lin Ju let out a breath and started again. “Your daughter—”

She wondered whether she should say her guess—that the villain’s daughter died young and so never appeared in the book—or just make something up.

In the end, under Mo Linqing’s gaze, Lin Ju shuddered and didn’t dare fabricate lies. He would definitely see through them—and then she’d die even worse.

So she spoke seven parts truth, three parts false. “Your… daughter died when she was very young. She… she…”

She never appeared in the later parts…

Before she could finish, a large hand clamped around her neck and lifted her up. Mo Linqing shook his head with a smile, his expression terrifyingly dark. “Why am I wasting words with you?”

Mo Linqing had never believed in such things. He only believed in himself.

Before Lin Ju’s horrified eyes, the deep-blue liquid was slowly injected into her body. Lin Ju knew—it was over.

That was the real Z virus.

She was finished. Completely finished.

This madman!

Lin Ju broke down crying, wailing hysterically like a madwoman. She rolled back and forth on the floor, clutching the arm that had been injected. She even lowered her head and bit viciously into the flesh, tearing it up and spitting it out.

It was useless. Useless. Even so, that numb, tingling sensation still spread through her entire body.

Lin Ju could clearly feel it—the Z virus was coursing through her body in an instant. Just as this demon had said, she was now coexisting with the Z virus…

At the very edge of despair, she looked up at Mo Linqing. “Aren’t you afraid of retribution? After infecting the human body, the Z virus will rapidly spread through the air and other mediums. Aren’t you afraid your precious daughter will be infected too?”

“She’s still so young, her resistance is weak—she’ll be the first to get infected!”

“Do you want her to be buried with me?!”

By the end, Lin Ju was screaming herself hoarse, then collapsed on the floor like a dead fish, utterly exhausted.

Mo Linqing nodded. “Not afraid. Because…”

There seemed to be pity in his eyes, and also contempt. “The Z virus was modified. It isn’t contagious. It has only one function.”

Under Lin Ju’s incredulous gaze, he slowly delivered the final words: “Parasitism. Single-host parasitism.”

So, you’ll never escape it in this lifetime.

The whole world is full of normal people—only you are a monster.

You want to be a savior? Save yourself first.

What Lin Ju was left with was the tall, straight back of the man as he walked away, humming a childish nursery rhyme, his steps light as he headed outside.