In the underground facilities of an alchemical workshop on the border of Zaun's middle layer:
A robust man, standing at least two meters tall, adorned with tattoos reminiscent of the Bilgewater serpent cult, and a disheveled punk with yellow spiked hair, were mercilessly beating a young man with parted blond hair on the ground.
The young man protected his head with both hands, curled into a defensive posture, "Please, stop!"
He spat out blood and pleaded to the lean middle-aged man sitting in the shadows, playing with a metallic injection device.
The bald man and the punk glanced at the distant figure upon receiving his signal. They then restrained the young man on a chair, pressing an iron rod against his throat, the same one they used to beat him.
"Deckard, I told you, you only needed to monitor them," the middle-aged man's voice possessed a mature, magnetic allure, "But you and your foolish companion decided to attack them."
He filled the injection device with a tube of purple liquid and aimed it at his left eye, and pressed the button.
"You've caused me trouble. Now, their friend is inquiring about you everywhere, and I don't intend to take such risks."
"Sorry! I truly didn't expect them to be so formidable," Deckard begged, "Moreover, they intruded into my territory and provoked us first!"
"You're making excuses for your incompetence," the middle-aged man coldly snorted with a hint of anger, "Since that's the case, I have no need to keep you."
As soon as the man finished speaking, the bald man, holding the iron rod against Deckard's throat, increased the pressure.
Due to the immense pressure on his throat, Deckard's face turned red, struggling to breathe.
Sensing his life slipping away, he exerted all his strength, intermittently squeezing out a sentence, "Please... give me... a chance. I won't... disappoint..."
The middle-aged man gestured for the bald man to ease up.
"Cough... cough... cough..." Relieved, Deckard coughed violently, greedily inhaling air.
With slow, measured footsteps, the middle-aged man emerged from the shadows.
He wore a red shirt with a black vest, styled his hair meticulously, and had an extremely pale complexion. The left half of his face was nearly disfigured, covered in grotesque scars.
The most striking feature was his abnormal left eye, entirely black instead of the expected white. The dim gold and crimson hues reflected a cold and demonic gaze, resembling the eye of a malevolent creature.
His name was Silco.
"If you want a chance, I can give it to you."
Silco walked slowly towards Deckard, gently placing his hand on his shoulder, a smile devoid of any warmth on his face.
"It's just a matter of whether you're willing or not."
Upon hearing that Silco was willing to give him a chance, hope filled Deckard's face. He nodded frantically, his voice hoarse, "I'm willing! I'm willing to do anything!"
"Very well."
Silco signaled his men to release Deckard, pulling him to his feet and helping him tidy up his clothes with a smile that revealed no emotion.
Then, he shifted his gaze to the corner of the room, filled with bottles and jars containing purple liquid.
Standing there was another middle-aged man, slightly bald, with high cheekbones, deeply sunken cheeks, and a slender figure.
He held a test tube filled with purple liquid, using a dropper to extract some and drip it into the tube.
Instantly, countless bubbles emerged inside the tube.
Silco walked behind the busy man, "Singed, how is the progress of the experiment?"
"It's almost complete," Singed shook the tube and observed, responding.
"Show me."
Following Silco's command, Singed moved to a large incubator on the other side of the room. He picked up a Sphinx cat, lying against the glass, eagerly watching the mouse inside the incubator.
"Come, time for a meal."
Saying this, Singed placed the cat into the incubator and locked it with a metal latch.
Inside the incubator, a white mouse was peacefully sleeping on the ground.
The Sphinx cat's pupils dilated, lowering its body, and stealthily approached its prey.
Silco gestured for Deckard to follow him, and they approached the incubator together.
"Any side effects?" Silco inquired.
"Not stable enough," Singed knocked on the glass, waking the sleeping mouse.
Seeing its approaching natural enemy, the trained white mouse instinctively ran toward the back, placing its mouth against a tube connected to a container filled with purple liquid, eagerly sucking.
After consuming a significant amount of the purple liquid, the mouse convulsed and fell to the ground, emitting a piercing scream.
Meanwhile, its dilated pupils mutated abruptly, and the blood vessels all over its body protruded above the epidermis, displaying the same color as the liquid in the jar.
With purple vascular patterns covering the entire body of the mouse, its skeletal structure and muscles began grotesquely piling up.
In just two or three seconds, the small white mouse had transformed into a creature one size larger than its natural predator.
The cat's back arched high, instinctively taking a few steps back due to fear.
Both Silco and Deckard widened their eyes, staring fixedly at the incubation chamber.
Then, the small white mouse let out a ferocious roar. In the blink of an eye, it charged towards the cat, which was half a meter away, slamming it against the glass of the incubation chamber.
A splash of fresh blood sprayed onto the spider-web-like shattered glass. The small white mouse effortlessly pierced the cat's throat with its sharp teeth.
After a pitiful scream, all that remained inside the incubation chamber was the "crunching" sound of chewing on flesh and bones.
Deckard, witnessing the scene, had a terrified expression. "What... what is this thing?!"
"You were just volunteering for this, weren't you?" Silco glanced at Deckard with a sideways look.
"What?! No... it's impossible, I'll die if I drink this!" Deckard retreated several steps until he hit the table.
Silco, unperturbed, spoke in a calm tone, "Let me tell you something very important, something I understood when I was about your age."
Seeing the man approaching step by step, Deckard leaned back as much as possible, his eyes filled with deep fear.
"Power," Silco uttered a word and took a bottle of purple liquid from the table.
"The true power will never belong to those naturally strong, agile, or intelligent. No... it will only belong to those who are willing to do whatever it takes."
Silco handed the potion to the young man.
"You'll be fine, kid."
Damn it! How could this possibly be fine?!
Deckard roared in his mind, but his trembling hand involuntarily reached for the potion in Silco's hand.
"Everyone has a monster in their heart. Now, it time let yours crawl out."
Silco's gradually persuasive words broke through the last defense in Deckard's heart.
"Damn it!" He grabbed the potion in frustration and gulped it down.
Under the effect of the potion, Deckard, like the small white mouse in the incubation chamber before, knelt on the ground in agony, clutching his own neck, undergoing a rapid and drastic transformation.
"Ugh, ahhhh..."
Silco looked down at Deckard's screaming figure without a trace of mercy on his face.
"That guy promised me, he'll stir up the Upper City. Now, we have an opportunity to deal with Vander..."
He glanced slightly upward at the ceiling, revealing a pensive expression.
(End of this chapter)