Chapter 27

For a long moment, Hughes did not move. Then, at last, he raised his head, his gaze clearing as he looked down at Lin Yu, whose golden hair floated and half-veiled his brow, caught in the eddying water. Hughes bent his head again, reached up, and tore from his neck a diamond-shaped bead of gold and blue that hung there, dropping it into his palm. For a brief instant, the two interlocking beads of different colors shimmered together, the flickering brilliance between them so dazzling it was almost blinding.

These were the “Phantasmir Beads,” also known as “Twin Illusion Orbs.” As the name implied, they were always found in pairs, and were an advanced, long-lasting form of transformation bead—medicine, in essence.

However… for hybrid beings whose blood was not pure, these orbs carried a risk. The compatibility with their blood was questionable. Put simply, there were side effects—not particularly harmful to the body, but the process of transformation would be agonizing.

For those of pure blood, however, the beads were entirely beneficial, with not a hint of adverse effect.

“Hybrid… tch…” The man’s lips curled into a strange, inexplicable sneer, his eyes glimmering with a trace of mischief. After a moment, he shifted his gaze back to his palm, and without hesitation, tipped his hand and swallowed one of the gold and blue orbs.

Whatever was happening on the surface was unknown, but the two of them were now stranded deep in the shadowy, mysterious ocean depths. Clearly, taking the transformation beads and assuming their alternate forms was their best—indeed only—option.

He raised that cold, strikingly handsome face, emotionless as though untouched by human warmth, and silently scanned their surroundings.

Somehow, while his attention had been elsewhere, more and more brilliant, multicolored fish and shrimp had gathered around them in swirling circles. Luminous silver shrimps and delicate cherry-gill fish darted playfully in and out of their flowing robes and wide sleeves. Yellow and blue butterflyfish, dazzling in their colors, threaded fearlessly through their drifting hair, tumbling and weaving in playful knots.

In such a conspicuous gathering of fish, any further delay would surely attract the attention of some dangerous, savage sea monster.

Hughes drew back his gaze. The fine sweat on his brow was already absorbed and mingled into the cold seawater. As the orb entered his body, a sensation like venomous snakes and scorpions writhing and biting inside his veins flared up, searing and acute. The pain in his muscles and tendons was beyond words—first his arms, then his spine, his waist, his abdomen—a spreading, numbing ache that marked the body’s instinctive rejection.

He pressed his lips together, fully aware of his own peculiar condition, knowing he would have to endure the agony of this transformation.

There was no time to delay further. Hughes raised his long, slender fingers, gripped Lin Yu’s sharp chin, and—without the slightest hesitation—pushed the crimson-glowing bead toward Lin Yu’s mouth. But the unconscious man, by instinct, would not swallow. Again and again Hughes tried, but always without result.

His body was growing tense. The drug’s effects were reaching his lower limbs—his legs felt as though they were being broken and shattered, and beneath his wide robe, his skin and bones were being remade, transformed and reassembled in a relentless, unceasing tide.

At last, with no other recourse, Hughes frowned, lifted the red-tinged bead to his own blood-red tongue, and then leaned down, sealing his lips over Lin Yu’s cool, half-parted mouth. His agile tongue coaxed the bead over, passing it into Lin Yu’s mouth. As their lips and tongues entwined, Hughes grew more fervent and possessive, pressing the bead deep until the last glimmer of red vanished between Lin Yu’s lips—swallowed down, beyond recall.

He had finished feeding him.

Only then did Hughes slowly draw back, his hand—now faintly shimmering with silver scales—unconsciously reaching up to gently wipe the color-brightened lips that his own had pressed and bitten.

The touch was warm and soft.

As the transformation bead entered his body, Lin Yu’s heart and breath gradually steadied, his face showing no sign of pain, rejection, or struggle. Clearly, for Lin Yu, whose veins flowed with pure elven blood, the bead was perfectly suited—far more so than for any hybrid, a unique advantage bestowed by nature.

The man’s long fingers lingered, almost wistfully, tracing over the other’s gentle, cool cheek.

After a time, Hughes lowered his eyelids, glancing down at his own heavy, waterlogged, and cumbersome clothing. The sharp, fine scales now covering his skin had torn his clothes to shreds, exposing swathes of smooth, luminous flesh beneath—the pain of transformation was hardly pleasant.

Tiny silver scales, edged in gold-brown, battled for space as they drew nourishment from his body and blood, growing and shifting even as he endured the agony in silence.

Lin Yu, meanwhile, slept on peacefully, unaware he had undergone a silent metamorphosis. His legs instinctively drew together, and across his pale skin—beaded with water—there now shimmered delicate pink-edged scales, like a seamless spread of blooming lotus petals, rising and falling in graceful patterns.

Hughes slipped his hand beneath Lin Yu’s inner robe, calmly caressing the newly scaled skin until the sharp-edged scales pricked his palm and drew blood. Only then did he withdraw his hand, satisfied that Lin Yu was adapting well to the transformation.

He tore away the last remnants of their ruined clothes, their cool, smooth skin pressing together in a way that might have made another sigh with pleasure, but there was no such thought between them now.

Lin Yu hovered between sleep and waking, his senses dulled. He could vaguely feel himself encircled by a watery shield, his breathing easier than ever before, the pain of near-drowning steadily fading. But peace was fleeting.

For in the very next instant, everything changed—

One moment Lin Yu floated serenely; the next, he felt a powerful arm clamp around his waist, nearly snapping him in two. His heavy head slammed into what felt like a wall, sending a jolt of pain through his nose. Someone was hauling him, unyielding, deeper into the sea. In his half-conscious state, Lin Yu managed a faint cry, even as the water around them churned violently.

His bare arms were soon crisscrossed with new scratches, to say nothing of Hughes, who did his utmost to shield him.

The swarming, brilliant fish and shrimp that had surrounded them now thrashed in a frenzy. Their tails and gills flared, and they darted recklessly past, streaking like blades. Some, armed with sharp spines, left a tangled web of bloodied marks wherever they touched in their panicked flight.

Lin Yu felt the pressure of the water growing ever heavier. The deeper they went, the more chaotic the sounds became, until it felt as if his head would burst: the roar of bursting bubbles, the shrieks and howls of creatures in distress, the gnashing and chewing of some giant carnivore, the churning of something like propellers, the “thump thump,” the “gurgle,” the “shhhh”—a wild cacophony of underwater noise, battering his senses like a barrage of explosions.

Yet beneath all the noise, there was an unmistakable sense of danger.

"Chirp chirp chirp (Run, run, run)!!!" a blue-spotted fish shrieked as it shot past.

"Hiss hiss (The crab-eating shark is back)!" A burly crab, leading its mate and young, waved its claws in alarm and burrowed into the sand.

"%...&*#! (Out of my way, you rotten turtle!)" Tadpoles, just sprouting limbs, shouted as they found an old turtle blocking their path on the rocks.

"Hiss hiss hiss (Move, move! I don’t want to die, I need to lay my eggs!)"

"Snarl snarl (Easy, little ones—they're already turning on each other, it’s a bloodbath!)" A prismatic fish, round as a rainbow ball, pushed through the crowd, not to be left behind.

Somehow, Hughes understood every angry, panicked word of the sea creatures: “…”

He did not pause for a moment. The instant he noticed diluted traces of blood swirling in the water, his nerves went taut.

The agony of transformation had passed; beneath his wide shoulders, a thin layer of translucent scales covered his skin. Below his taut abdomen, the gleaming silver scales now blanketed his powerful, sinuous tail, overlapping like hard, iridescent shells, all the way to the sharp, forked fins at its end.

He looked more imposing and dangerous than ever, his gaze sharp and commanding.

Hughes gripped Lin Yu tightly, his cold eyes fixed on the tangled, overgrown coral ahead. With a swift flick of his tail, he propelled them downward, keeping their bodies pressed close, Lin Yu cradled half in his arms, as they swam in perfect unison through the cold, tumultuous water toward the heart of the coral reef below.

All around, the silvery phosphorescent dust was scattered by the chaos. The light flickered between dim and bright, and the fish and shrimp, now utterly crazed, darted madly about, churning up sand and algae in swirling clouds, as if the entire dead-green sea had been shattered by some passing colossus. Everything was chaos.

“Bang! Bang!”

“Bang!”

The thunderous crashes came from every direction, shaking the blue water, sending waves of force through it as if some vast beast was bashing itself against the rocks.

Cries of pain and muffled sobs grew clearer. Something was happening nearby, and it was not at all simple.

Hughes swept his gaze around, his expression cold, then abruptly narrowed his eyes, focusing on the massive, gaudy coral reef. There, in a cramped crevice beneath a slanting shelf, a giant, plump sea clam was wedged tight. Its heavy shells, veined and ridged, lay tightly shut, caked with sand and grime, sprouting tufts of greenish rust, seaweed, and clusters of snails and scallops.

Though the two were still at a disadvantage, time was short. Hughes quickly swept the sand and debris from the clam.

Among the falling sand, many spiny sea cucumbers tumbled out, waving their tentacled mouths, feeding on drifting plankton. Such creatures were common in these rich, silty depths.

Hughes glanced at the lush, jade-green seagrass, then calmly inserted his fingers into the seam of the giant clam, twisting his wrist. The gap widened under his terrifying strength, until there was space enough for a person.

He frowned, then scooped up Lin Yu’s limp, curled form and settled him gently inside the pearl-white shell. His gaze lingered softly on Lin Yu’s face before he closed the clam again.

He gathered up a toxic sea anemone, which even the sea cucumbers avoided, and placed it near the clam. Once he saw that the other creatures kept their distance, wary of its purple-brown and orange-striped stings, he finally relaxed.

But the cacophony outside was drawing ever closer. Hughes checked his wounds; the red marks on his back and arms were already healed, thanks to the power of the transformation bead.

He flicked his strong tail, releasing a stream of pearly bubbles that scattered the sand.

Then, he let slip from his wrist a strange, tiny serpent. It burrowed into the damp white sand, then peeked out, its golden, slit eyes gleaming with intelligence. The little snake watched longingly as its master, tail glinting, swam away into the distance.