Everyone Is Non-Human Except Me [Rebirth] Chapter 53

Wei Huan wanted to go back to sleep, but no matter what he did, he just couldn’t. He laid there like a pancake on his tiny half of the bed, tossing and turning restlessly.

The Embracing Dream Grass in his hand curled up again when it met sunlight, looking withered and lifeless like an overly dehydrated plant.

Forget it. He’d try dreaming again tonight.

Wei Huan turned his face to look at Yun Yongzhou. Once he accepted the possibility that he might actually like him, all his previous recklessness seemed to have a traceable cause. Out of all his friends, he just had to chase after Yun Yongzhou. At first, it was just because Yun Yongzhou seemed cold, untouchable—he wanted to deliberately mess up his life. Later, it simply became a habit: as long as Yun Yongzhou was there, he’d follow, no matter how cold Yun Yongzhou acted.

Looking at Yun Yongzhou’s back, Wei Huan thought to himself.

This was the only strong opponent he had ever truly acknowledged.

He was like a moth drawn to light, circling around Yun Yongzhou, annoying him. But in truth, he wanted to get close to that fire, that brilliance. He wanted to become an equal, someone Yun Yongzhou could also recognize as a worthy opponent.

But Wei Huan still couldn’t figure out whether these feelings were just a dependency born from danger and hardship, or whether it was genuine affection.

What was true liking, anyway?

Forget it. How could he even have time to think about this nonsense? Yun Yongzhou was a golden crow burdened with great responsibility—he might even end up like his father someday. But he himself was just a weak human. Even if he once held a much stronger identity, now all he had left was the stigma of being a traitor.

He never really wanted to tell Yun Yongzhou the truth, and now he didn’t dare to even more.

Deep in thought, Wei Huan finally decided to get up. It should’ve been a lazy, indulgent weekend, but his heart was too heavy with unfinished business to really rest.

While Wei Huan was trying to distract himself by making breakfast, Yun Yongzhou also got up. He heard the noise and was thinking about what excuse he could use to leave soon.

He still had so much to do—track down the hacker who erased his identity, investigate the soul-summoning incident, untangle all these leads, and—

Wei Huan thought of Su Buyu’s face.

Right, he still had to see Buyu.

Su Buyu’s hesitant, conflicted expression appeared in his mind, leaving Wei Huan both confused and guilty. So much had happened since he returned. He should’ve treated Su Buyu as a friend just as close as Yang Sheng, but he had never found the right moment to come clean about everything. Maybe tonight would finally be the right time.

He knew Buyu would never believe those rumors.

Maybe Buyu had been waiting for him, too.

Lost in thought, he suddenly heard noises coming from the bathroom. Wei Huan called out, but didn’t get a response. He turned off the stove, put breakfast on the table, and immediately ran over.

The bathroom floor was covered with soapy water and floating bubbles.

Yun Yongzhou was standing there, watching the washing machine that had just finished with a loud thud but was still pouring out water nonstop. He seemed a little at a loss, like a big boy who didn’t know what to do, and when he turned back to look at Wei Huan standing at the door, they both stared at each other in surprise.

Yun Yongzhou’s first reaction was actually to try and shut the door.

“Hey hey hey,” Wei Huan grabbed the door with his hand, looking puzzled. “What are you doing?”

Yun Yongzhou choked up a little. “Washing the blanket.”

“Washing the blanket?” Wei Huan frowned. “Your family just stuffs the whole thing in the machine like this to wash it?” He took off his slippers, rolled up his pants to his calves, and stepped barefoot into the water. He turned off the washing machine and lifted the lid. The stuffed-in quilt came spilling out all at once, like over-fermented dough.

“Alright, let’s leave this for now.” Wei Huan clapped his hands.

Yun Yongzhou looked a bit embarrassed, feeling like his clumsy image was completely cemented in Wei Huan’s mind. Still, he tried to salvage it. “That’s just how my family does it.”

He didn’t want Wei Huan to think he was useless at these kinds of chores—it made him look dumb, like some helpless young master. But ever since he was a child, he’d only been trained to be an excellent assassin and killer. The only thing he was good at… was fighting.

“This washing machine might not be like the advanced tech you have at home, Instructor,” Wei Huan pointed at the control buttons on the washer. “You see, this is an old-style automatic washing machine. And why did you suddenly want to—”

Yun Yongzhou didn’t want to hear any more. He felt like a helpless idiot in daily life, and he really didn’t want to face whatever Wei Huan was about to ask. He turned to leave the bathroom. Wei Huan saw him walking away mid-sentence and grabbed his arm. “Hey, Instructor, are you mad?”

That one tug—combined with the soapy floor—made Yun Yongzhou slip uncontrollably. As he fell backward, Wei Huan got startled and tried to catch him, but was dragged down instead by his weight. The two of them ended up tumbling clumsily to the floor. After a dizzy tumble, Wei Huan landed right on top of Yun Yongzhou.

The scent of soap bubbles rose and fell, engulfing them.

Wei Huan froze. His whole body was lying against Yun Yongzhou’s chest, heart thumping like a rabbit on a rampage, bouncing around as if it were watching a show. All the pain from the fall was drowned out by the panicked rhythm of his breath.

Yun Yongzhou’s head was submerged in the foam, and the impact from the fall sent bubbles flying everywhere. Lying beneath, he bore the brunt—his mouth, cheeks, even the lashes of his right eye were covered in foam, making it hard to open his eyes.

Seeing how miserable Yun Yongzhou looked, Wei Huan couldn’t help but laugh. He sat up, kneeling on the floor with his legs spread, and supported himself with one hand. “Let me wipe it off. Don’t blink—if it gets in your eyes, it’ll sting even worse.” As he spoke, he reached out and gently wiped the foam from Yun Yongzhou’s eyelashes.

With his eyes closed like that, Yun Yongzhou reminded Wei Huan once again of how he looked beneath the sea. These snowy-white bubbles looked just like the foam between ocean waves, rising and falling with the uncertain rhythm of his chest.

Wei Huan’s fingers left his eyes and hesitated before moving to the corner of his mouth, softly and sheepishly brushing away the foam stuck there.

His chest rose and fell. His Adam’s apple bobbed. Wei Huan didn’t realize he was leaning closer and closer to Yun Yongzhou.

Meanwhile, Yun Yongzhou, still with his eyes closed, saw in his mind the image of Wei Huan’s face covered in white foam—it matched exactly a moment from his dream the night before. As if life itself was playing a prank, orchestrating a string of cruel jokes meant to drive him mad.

Just as both of them were about to lose control, a series of beeping sounds interrupted.

The school ring on Wei Huan’s finger had gone off.

Everything snapped back to reality. Like a pardon from heaven, it gave them an excuse to come back to their senses. Wei Huan quickly stood up, his hands trembling slightly as he operated the device. A floating screen appeared, displaying Qing He’s name.

He was surprised. Remembering Yun Yongzhou was still there, Wei Huan hurriedly turned off the screen.

“What’s wrong?”

Yun Yongzhou crawled out of the water, soaked and looking rather pathetic. Wei Huan casually said it was nothing but had already walked out to the living room, even activating the comms device behind his ear. Yun Yongzhou saw all this but said nothing—just took off his own shirt.

A moment later, Wei Huan was in a rush to leave. “Instructor Yun, I suddenly remembered something really important I have to take care of. Breakfast is ready—help yourself. If anything comes up, contact me.” Just as he was about to reach the entryway, Yun Yongzhou called out from the bedroom.

He came out, now dressed in black. “I’m coming with you.”

“Huh?” Wei Huan froze. But Yun Yongzhou looked resolute as he opened the door. Seeing Wei Huan unmoving, he added, “You have two options. One, I come with you.”

His gaze was cold.

“Two, I lock you inside and you’re not going anywhere.”

In the end, Wei Huan chose the first option—because Qing He really was in trouble. The second time he tried calling, Qing He’s number was already unreachable, but he received a location ping, marked with a symbol that looked like both a bow and a crescent moon.

It looked familiar. Then it hit him—it was the symbol he’d seen the first time he followed Ah Zu to their so-called organization base.

It had to be from Qing He.

Wei Huan tried to come up with a convincing lie for Yun Yongzhou, but couldn’t think of one. Lying used to be second nature, but now, facing him, he just couldn’t muster the courage.

“Instructor Yun,” the golden mark on Wei Huan’s forehead lit up as he activated the dimensional travel technique powered by the golden crow spirit within him. Unusually serious, he said, “I’m about to do something very dangerous, and there are many things I’ve kept from you. I probably can’t explain them clearly right now. Honestly, I don’t want you involved—it’s really complicated. If you—”

Yun Yongzhou reached out and took Wei Huan’s hand, channeling an even stronger surge of golden crow energy into his body. Wei Huan froze, then saw Yun Yongzhou raise his brow slightly.

“There is no ‘if.’”

Meeting those steady amber eyes, Wei Huan suddenly felt a rush of heat in his chest—a kind of safety he’d never known before.

“Thank you.”

Wei Huan couldn’t go directly to Qing He’s location with the dimensional technique, so he had planned to stop by the Dark Zone first. But Yun Yongzhou, as if reading his mind, asked,

“Where to?”

“Where?” Wei Huan looked at him. Yun Yongzhou opened his ring, grabbed Wei Huan’s hand, operated the interface, and forcibly pulled up the location data. Then he activated spirit power to initiate the barrier-crossing teleportation.

Was this really the same clumsy, soft-handed young master who was just fumbling with the laundry?

Wei Huan couldn’t help but curve his lips into a smile.

Still… very charming.

A burst of golden light flared up. Technically, the teleportation spell was only supposed to allow travel between preset barriers. Wei Huan didn’t understand how Yun Yongzhou could go directly to Qinghe’s location. “Instructor, how did you do that?”

The glowing circle in front of them gradually faded. Yun Yongzhou spread his arms wide, and in an instant, two narrow, long light blades appeared in his hands, resembling the Tang swords of the past. Before Wei Huan could even react, blades flashed before his eyes. Two tall figures collapsed to the ground, their arms and legs severely injured, lying there unable to get up. Guns that hadn’t yet been fired clattered to the floor, mixing with the blood.

So fast.

Wei Huan suddenly remembered: during their old Group Seven training, Instructor Yang had once mentioned that Yun Yongzhou actually had a weapon he was exceptionally skilled with—twin Tang swords, wielded with unmatched mastery. But in modern warfare dominated by firearms, swords had little advantage. That was why Yun Yongzhou usually used his demon power to launch wide-range high-speed light blade attacks, leaving him little chance to showcase his true assassin skills.

Yun Yongzhou, radiating a murderous aura, strode forward. The light blades in his hands vanished, only to reappear the moment new assassins appeared ahead. In a flash, his speed turned strange and ghostly as he rushed toward the two men, like a phantom. Twin light blades materialized in his hands, his wrists twisting as he attacked.

“Don’t kill them!” Wei Huan instinctively shouted, but Yun Yongzhou’s blades didn’t aim for their throats. His strikes deliberately avoided vital areas. As Yun Yongzhou slid and spun past them, his arms crossed and opened, the light blades disappearing again. “I didn’t kill them.”

The two tall assassins collapsed. A light rope suddenly appeared, stringing together all the scattered guns on the ground and flying over to Wei Huan, as if presenting a selection for him to choose from.

Yun Yongzhou raised an eyebrow, the fiery demon pattern at his temple blazing arrogantly. “Which one do you want?”

Wei Huan’s lips curled into a grin. It had been a long time since they’d fought side by side. He glanced at the guns. “Too dirty for me.” As he spoke, the bracelet on his wrist suddenly transformed into a long blade. He grinned like a show-off little kid, cocky and adorable. “I have my own light too.”

Yun Yongzhou took two quick backward steps, and as he turned, the twin light blades reappeared in his hands. “Where are they?”

Wei Huan caught up. “Should be close by.”

Just as he finished speaking, a wall of fire rose behind them in the passage—Yun Yongzhou’s defense. The place looked like an office building, and Wei Huan found it vaguely familiar.

Wait. This structure—it looked just like the research facility on the border between the Dark Zone and Fanzhou.

Why would Qing He be here?

“Instructor Yun, be careful,” Wei Huan recalled what Qing He had said before, “the security system here is tight.”

Countless light blades appeared behind Yun Yongzhou, flying out like small drones, precisely destroying all the hidden surveillance cameras in the corners.

“I only care about the attack systems.”

The way he fought—it really hadn’t changed at all.

Wei Huan tried contacting Qing He again and saw he had sent another location pin. “This way.”

They headed up the stairs. Just as they finished one flight, Wei Huan heard faint sounds—sure enough, bullets followed—but their light shields were faster, instantly forming to protect them, perfectly tracking Wei Huan and Yun Yongzhou until they took down the ambushers.

“It’s on this floor.”

Yun Yongzhou grabbed Wei Huan’s hand just as he was about to push open the emergency door. “Wait.”

They heard voices.

[Was that gunfire just now? Where are they?]

[Team Chen! The surveillance just showed two people coming up!]

[Where? Where are they now?]

[All surveillance just went down! I’ve already notified the tech team—they’re working on repairs!]

[Useless! You two, take that person and lock him up tight! The rest of you, go downstairs and find those two! Bring them to me!]

So they really were caught.

Footsteps were rapidly approaching.

Wei Huan glanced at Yun Yongzhou. Yun Yongzhou made a killing gesture. Wei Huan frowned and shook his head, making an “X” gesture with his hands. Then, with both fists, he quickly opened his hands twice, as if scattering something.

Yun Yongzhou helplessly shook his head. The door suddenly swung open, and the people inside froze when they saw the two of them.

“Hello.” Wei Huan greeted them with a smile. At the same moment, countless light blades shot out from behind them like bullets, piercing through all the people around them, front and back. They had no time to even cry out before they collapsed to their knees.

Yun Yongzhou was already at the center of the hallway, his light blades moving with terrifying speed. One after another, the assailants fell. Wei Huan controlled his light whips to disable the rest—wounding their wrists so they couldn’t use weapons, and smashing their earpiece comms one by one.

“Who the h*ll are you people?!”

That voice—it was the leader. A fat man, shaking. Before he could react, twin light blades had crossed at his neck. He trembled as a long, black shadow behind him sprouted wings.

Wei Huan used light ropes to tie up the others, then turned and slowly walked toward the chubby man with a rebellious-looking face.

“Tsk-tsk-tsk… Our Instructor Yun really is as kind as he is beautiful—he even let you finish your line.”

Yun Yongzhou stepped out from behind the man, clearly displeased with the adjective. But the two sharp light sabers still rested neatly against the man’s throat.

The man didn’t dare move. He kept swallowing. “Y-you… what kind of monsters are you…?”

Relying on his incredibly innocent face, Wei Huan shamelessly approached with a bright, naive smile. “Look at me. I’m human.” Very quickly, the smile on his face changed in flavor, his right brow lifted. “Speak. Where are you hiding him?”

The fat man’s face changed. “I won’t tell you. They’ll be here soon. You won’t be able to escape.”

“Before they arrive…” Wei Huan extended his two long, fair hands, fingers curling slightly inward. Yun Yongzhou’s light blade had already pierced a few millimeters into the man’s skin. As it broke through, blood spurted out instantly, causing the man to howl in pain, trembling all over like a leaf in the wind.

Wei Huan’s expression turned cold. “Are you going to talk?”

“You… you…”

So troublesome.

“Instructor Yun, I’m out of patience,” Wei Huan said in a tone that sounded almost like he was whining. “You do it. He’s not afraid of me at all.”

Yun Yongzhou’s eyes turned golden in an instant. Flames ignited at the man’s feet and whooshed upward. The man shrieked sharply in terror. “I’ll talk! I’ll talk! I had them take him to the isolation room on the top floor!”

The flames vanished. With a flick of Wei Huan’s hand, a light blade dropped down and stabbed the fat man in the stomach. All the light blades disappeared. Yun Yongzhou glanced at the glass window at the end of the corridor. In the next instant, a mass of light blades shot out and shattered it.

Yun Yongzhou jerked his chin toward the corridor, and the two of them dashed forward at roughly the same speed. Just as they were about to leap out, Yun Yongzhou wrapped an arm around Wei Huan’s waist and flew out the window with him.

“Why’d you stab him?” Yun Yongzhou asked as they ascended into the sky. The wind was so strong it destabilized them; Wei Huan wrapped his arms around his neck like a child and grumbled, “He was wasting my time.”

Yun Yongzhou curled his lips slightly and, holding him tightly, rocketed straight toward the rooftop. The densely packed light blades once again shattered the top floor’s windows. By the time they burst in, a large number of armed guards were already there, firing wildly. Yun Yongzhou bent his right wing to shield Wei Huan while swiftly dispatching the attackers with his light blades.

Wei Huan was placed on the floor with a slight look of dissatisfaction. He clicked his tongue.

“What is it?”

“It’s no fun fighting with you,” Wei Huan pouted, taking advantage of his “student” identity to sulk. “Don’t treat me like a kid.”

Yun Yongzhou smiled with his eyes, recalled all the light blades, and gradually fell back behind Wei Huan. Wei Huan glanced sideways. “What are you doing?”

“Letting you take the lead.”

What the—? Wei Huan was secretly delighted. He didn’t expect this dog of a team leader to act as his strongest support one day. Seven years apart really had changed Yun Yongzhou’s mindset.

Every assassin they encountered along the way was taken down by Wei Huan. His wristband transformed into light blades or long knives at will. When someone was hidden at a distance with only their head showing, he whimsically summoned a crossbow and dropped them with a single bolt.

It had been so long since he’d had this much fun fighting.

It felt just like being back in Team Seven.

Yun Yongzhou provided backup from behind, and soon the two arrived at the isolation room. The door seemed to have a formidable security system. Wei Huan frowned. “Humans just love these overly complicated passcodes…”

Then he realized his slip and quickly corrected, “I mean, we humans…”

Yun Yongzhou couldn’t be bothered to expose him and pretended not to hear. He raised his palm, and crimson flames began to build. The fire spiraled upward, forming something like a flame tornado. Wei Huan rarely saw him use fire abilities, since his light-based attacks were already highly destructive.

“If only Little Ling were here—she’d just blow it up.”

As soon as he said that, a semicircular defensive barrier appeared in front of him, and at the same time, Yun Yongzhou’s fire tornado slammed into the door with a loud boom. The seemingly impenetrable iron door was blasted open by his flames.

“D*mn…” Wei Huan stared at Yun Yongzhou in shock, stunned speechless.

“What’s wrong?” The pyromaniac looked back at him through the smoke, clearly confused by his reaction.

Coughing from the smoke, Wei Huan wheezed, “Nothing—cough cough—just, how come I didn’t know you could make fire explode like that?”

Yun Yongzhou frowned slightly and replied seriously, “Do low-level abilities really need to be demonstrated?”

“…I see I was mistaken,” Wei Huan muttered, stepping through the now-open doorway. He just hoped Qing He hadn’t been accidentally harmed by that “low-level” skill. But once inside, he was even more surprised to find Qing He unharmed, encased within a golden spherical barrier.

“You’re here?” Qing He pointed at the barrier with some suspicion. “What is this?”

“Don’t touch it. It’ll blow you up,” Wei Huan joked. “You heard that explosion just now?”

Qing He rolled his eyes. “I’d believe you if I were stupid.”

“Let’s go.” Wei Huan grabbed his arm and started dragging him out. The golden shield continued to follow Qing He. Outside, as expected, another large group of assassins had appeared. Wei Huan cracked his neck, and Yun Yongzhou’s light blades swarmed out like a wave. Wei Huan wielded a long knife for close combat. Together, they were like the most devastating weapon combo in the world. Qing He, watching them move so fast they nearly left afterimages, was left speechless in awe.

Wei Huan turned and kicked away an attacker on Yun Yongzhou’s left, but a stream of bullets came flying toward his back. Each one was on target. At the last second, a spinning light blade appeared behind him and intercepted every single bullet, sending them clattering harmlessly into the wall.

“Holy cr*p, faster than bullets?”

Only then did he realize Yun Yongzhou had protected his back. He turned to Qing He and said, “There’s nothing faster than light.” With that, he whipped a long blade at an assassin hiding in the corner. The blade pierced his abdomen, and he collapsed. The light blade disappeared, and a matte-gold band reappeared on Wei Huan’s wrist.

Not much time had passed, yet the floor was already littered with bodies. Qing He clicked his tongue several times. These two were terrifying. He’d never seen combat power like this—it was like they were playing a game.

Wei Huan didn’t pay much attention to Qing He, instead flashing Yun Yongzhou a spirited smile, like a child showing off, “Instructor Yun, isn’t your student impressive?”

Yun Yongzhou glanced at him, his eyes holding an unreadable expression. Wei Huan, the fool, couldn’t read it—but Qing He, sharp as ever, could see it clearly: it was blatant indulgence.

“Impressive or not?” Wei Huan pressed, unwilling to let it go. Finally cornered, Yun Yongzhou answered calmly, “Impressive. Let’s go.”

Wei Huan pulled Qing He along to catch up with Yun Yongzhou, his heart full of glee. He didn’t forget to brag, “That’s all thanks to my teacher’s great guidance.”

“Didn’t think a human like you could be so strong,” Qing He shot back, sarcastic. “I’ve seen it all now.”

“Of course,” Wei Huan said proudly. “The number one assassin in the nation is my support. Most bad*ss teacher-student duo in history.”

Qing He snorted and recalled the look Yun Yongzhou had given this clingy manchild earlier. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s obviously a husband-and-wife team.”