Everyone Is Non-Human Except Me [Rebirth] Chapter 3

Won’t live long?

Wei Huan froze for two seconds, then frowned at Leah. “What kind of joke is that?”

Even Ah Zu was confused. “Yeah, isn’t he perfectly fine now?” He rubbed Wei Huan’s arm and patted his thigh. “He’s not missing any limbs or anything.”

“This.” Leah tossed Wei Huan a piece of syringe tubing. “I tested it. It’s demon venom.”

Demon venom?

Wei Huan held the tube under his nose and sniffed—it was a demon’s scent. Smelled like…

Gou Wen.

And not just any Gou Wen—it was the kind that had grown in a demon’s heart for over a hundred years. Such potent demonic energy could only come from draining an entire Gou Wen plant.

His hand holding the syringe suddenly lost all strength. Humans might not know, but Wei Huan was a demon—he knew exactly how lethal this stuff was. Their teachers had repeated it countless times in school: if you ever encounter a poison demon like Gou Wen, avoid it at all costs. Best-case scenario, paralysis. Worst-case, permanent injury. For humans, it’s instant death.

And right now, he didn’t have any demon power—wasn’t he just a human?

“Don’t bother thinking about it. You’ve got at most two weeks left,” Leah said, taking the syringe and tossing it into the medical box.

“Hey hey hey, don’t throw it away—” Wei Huan reached for it, but in the box he caught sight of a mirror. The narrow surface reflected his face.

Wei Huan’s entire body froze.

No way.

He scrambled to grab the mirror, staring at the face in disbelief.

This wasn’t his face. It wasn’t Wei Huan’s face. Even though he’d spent years maintaining human form, the person in the reflection was a total stranger—looked like a 16- or 17-year-old human boy.

His breathing became uncontrollably heavy. He had assumed he’d been resurrected, just temporarily stripped of his demon powers. But now he realized—this wasn’t his body. This was clearly an ordinary human shell!

Impossible. Wei Huan yanked open his collar, and his heart sank.

The blue Nine-Revolutions Phoenix sigil that had been imprinted on his collarbone since birth—was gone.

This was no longer the body of a Nine Phoenix.

“What are you doing?” Leah’s long eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Don’t play dumb. Tell us the truth—what’s your connection to Institute 137?”

Even Ah Zu thought Wei Huan was acting weird. He sighed. “The people at 137 are utterly inhumane—using living people for experiments. If you were one of their subjects, there’s no need to protect them.”

“I’m not protecting anyone.” Wei Huan’s mind was in chaos. He let the hand holding the mirror fall. “I really don’t know. When I woke up, I was already in that lab. They were chasing me.” He tried to recall the details from that night. “Yes, in the alarm broadcast they did refer to me as a ‘test subject.’ But I have no idea what kind of experiment I was in.”

“You were escaping when I found you, right?” Ah Zu asked.

Wei Huan nodded. “Yeah, I’d just gotten out.”

“That same night there was an earthquake in the Dark Zone,” Leah added, eyeing him. “You know that?”

Wei Huan suddenly recalled the powerful demon aura he had sensed in the lab. But he stayed guarded. “I just remember that when I woke up, the lab was nearly collapsing. Otherwise I wouldn’t have had a chance to escape.”

That demon aura… it was his own. What the h*ll was going on?

This resurrection—everything about it made no sense. If he died, he died. Why bring him back in—

Death.

Wei Huan frowned. Was his death even logical?

Even if he had been surrounded by human enemy forces, even if there were bombers and mechs—given his healing abilities, he shouldn’t have died that fast.

Dead for seven years. So where was his original body now? In the Nine Phoenix family crypt? Or had the human enemies torn it to pieces?

What had really happened back then…

Wei Huan tried to recall the events leading up to his death, but no matter how hard he tried, all he could remember were fragmented scenes.

Ah Zu trusted Wei Huan quite a bit. Seeing how tormented he looked, he couldn’t help but feel bad. He looked up at Leah. “I think he’s telling the truth. The earthquake might’ve broken some of the lab’s equipment, and he escaped because of that. Plus, people were definitely trying to kill him.”

“I’m the one interrogating here—shut up,” Leah snapped. Then turned to Wei Huan again, “What did you do before? Do you have household registration? Which district are you from?”

That question stumped Wei Huan. He glanced at the unfamiliar face in the mirror. He really didn’t know what the body’s original owner used to do—he’d even made up the name.

“I don’t remember.” He could’ve made something up, but Leah seemed extremely cautious. And since he wasn’t even human, a lie might easily expose him. “I only remember what happened after I woke up in the lab.”

Ah Zu whispered, “Could he have been brainwashed…”

Leah shot him a glare but said nothing.

Wei Huan also fell silent. Truth be told, he still hadn’t come to his senses. His mind was a mess. He didn’t even know how to describe what he was feeling right now. He had genuinely believed he was dead—that the bloodline of the Nine Phoenix clan had ended with him.

Ever since losing his parents, Wei Huan had known he had to carry the burden of the Nine Phoenix clan alone. He’d never regretted dying on the battlefield seven years ago. But now, somehow, he was alive again—albeit in someone else’s body—but still, he was back. It was like a spark had reignited in a field of cold ashes.

But before that spark could catch fire, it was smothered again with a cruel blow: he only had two weeks to live.

Then what was the point of coming back at all? Might as well have stayed dead.

Death… Just the thought of that word made his whole body uncomfortable. Maybe only someone who’s actually died could understand this kind of pain.

No.

Wei Huan refused to accept it. Even if it was just a tiny spark, he had to turn it into a flame. No, a blaze. A torch. A raging fire.

He had to seize this chance to come back fully.

Leah saw him with his head down and thought he was just feeling down because he knew he wouldn’t live long. She wanted to say something but her pride stopped her. Ah Zu threw her a look, which she returned with another glare. But just then, she caught sight of Wei Huan raising his head to ask, “Is there an antidote for this demon poison?”

“There isn’t.” Leah answered without hesitation. “At most, in fifteen days, your internal organs will completely fail. In the meantime, the veins in your wrist will gradually darken to purple-black. Once they turn fully black, you’re done.”

Hearing that, Wei Huan felt a chill in his heart—but at the same time, a question arose. If the people at Lab 137 really wanted him dead, why not just use a fast-acting poison? Or blow him up along with the car? Why go with this kind of slow demon poison?

Could it be they actually had the antidote? Were they hoping to track him down in the meantime? If they couldn’t find him, then fine—he’d die. But if they caught him, maybe they’d keep him alive.

Wei Huan looked down at his hand. This body must have some value to them. Otherwise, why not destroy it?

That was a hopeful line of thinking.

“Hey!” Ah Zu suddenly slapped his thigh. “I might have an idea!”

Leah scoffed. “What idea could you possibly have?”

Ah Zu looked excited, though he lowered his voice and pointed upward with his index finger. “Up there… isn’t there a super powerful demon academy? I heard that the top scorer in their entrance exam gets a prize, and one of them is said to be a fruit from the Reverse Soul Tree.”

His voice got quieter and quieter, but it was like thunder in Wei Huan’s ears.

Right! Back then, he had almost become the top scorer of the Shanhai University entrance exam—he was this close to getting that Reverse Soul Fruit. If not for that d*mn nemesis…

Forget it. No need to dwell on the past. He didn’t win the fruit in the end anyway.

The Reverse Soul Fruit came from the Reverse Soul Tree, a sacred tree of the demon race. Only one tree remained, bearing fruit once every ten years. They said it could boost demon power dramatically and its juice could bring the dead back to life. Because he never got that fruit, Wei Huan blamed every loss against his nemesis on it—thinking the guy must’ve eaten it and gained some overpowered buff. Otherwise, how could he be that strong?

“You must be crazy,” Leah’s voice pulled Wei Huan out of that not-so-pleasant memory. She cast a disdainful glance at Ah Zu. “The barrier around that school’s gate keeps most demons out. And you think he can get in?”

A faint pain struck Wei Huan’s chest like an arrow. Meeting Leah’s gaze, he gave her a stiff smile.

Do you have any idea? I used to be the campus heartthrob of Shanhai University, you ignorant human delinquent…

“Well, that’s true,” Ah Zu muttered. “But only the Reverse Soul Fruit can bring someone back from the dead.” His head drooped again. “And the school’s ten-year admissions just so happen to be starting soon…”

“You just want to go stir up trouble yourself!” Leah snorted. “Did you forget what the Boss said? Absolutely no going up there.”

The Boss? What were they—a shady underground gang?

And what exactly was “up there”? Wei Huan frowned in thought. Could they mean… the place he used to live—Kunlun Void?

This was the first time Wei Huan had heard humans speak of demon territories. Since ancient times, humans and demons had stood on opposing sides. As the demon race grew stronger, their conflict shifted from simple opposition to overwhelming domination.

In this world of the strong devouring the weak, humans were continuously pushed back. Even their original homelands were gradually taken. Now, all that remained was a small bit of land called Fanzhou—the last legally designated human territory.

The rest had been conquered by demons, collectively called the Demon Domain, where various races formed a federal system. The Demon Domain was vast, and the most powerful demons with rare bloodlines and immense strength were usually concentrated in spiritual strongholds like Kunlun Void and Penglai Sea.

Kunlun Void was the most unique of them all. Years ago, weary from endless war, the Phoenix used the last of its demon power to create a massive barrier to preserve Kunlun Void’s peace. That barrier suspended the entire city in the air, making it a floating demon capital.

And in the heart of Kunlun Void was the so-called demon university Ah Zu had mentioned—Shanhai University, Wei Huan’s alma mater.

Normally, humans couldn’t enter Kunlun Void. But Wei Huan, as a once-excellent student of Shanhai University, naturally knew the hidden entrance to the barrier.

Seeing that Wei Huan had said nothing, Ah Zu and Leah assumed he’d fallen into some kind of death countdown-induced depressive silence. They didn’t press further and quietly left the room.

Wei Huan, still seated cross-legged on the bed until his legs went numb, finally made up his mind.

When night fell, Ah Zu knocked on the door and brought in a boxed meal.

“This is the good stuff—look, petri dish kelp! I didn’t even buy any for myself. And this, artificial steak—okay, it’s synthetic protein, but the taste is still kinda…”

Wei Huan suddenly grabbed his arm, cutting off his enthusiastic pitch. “Ah Zu, do you want to see something exciting?”

“Huh?” Ah Zu put down the lunchbox and scratched his buzz cut. “What kind of excitement?”

Wei Huan raised an eyebrow and pointed a finger toward the sky.

“The excitement up there.”