The Creature Keeper - Chapter 12

In the cold and spacious silver-white experimental chamber, severed limbs and shattered remains littered the floor.

The vast room was filled with blood and indistinct, torn biological tissue. Pale blue liquid pooled together, resembling a broken reservoir. Within this blurred mass of flesh, there was no trace of any humanoid form.

The life signs of the half-octopus Experimental Subject had long since disappeared; under such circumstances, survival seemed impossible.

Everyone thought he was dead, including Professor Xu, who was accustomed to storms behind the screen.

The life sign monitoring screen had been silent for a long time, and the situation was so dire that it was almost beyond saving.

Professor Xu shifted his gaze from the screen back to the light panel, no longer paying attention to the experimental chamber, instead reviewing the reports submitted by his subordinates that afternoon.

The ferocious Special Grade Creature in the Encrypted Area had once again destroyed their expensive central control room, causing him a severe headache.

The Special Grade Creature had been extremely agitated lately, destroying countless experimental chambers and even killing many Experimental Subjects and researchers. If this continued, things would spiral out of control.

Because of the mysterious and bizarre power known as “Consciousness Interference,” no one dared to approach that place.

Professor Xu rubbed his eyes in frustration, when a faint female voice came through the intercom.

“Number 17?”

In the silent and lifeless space, no one responded to her call.

They had sent the Feeder inside.

In this world of deathly silence, no one would answer her.

Biological division at this level was similar to planarians known on Earth; besides that, few creatures could endure it.

Yet Tang Rou kept calling out, as if afraid of startling someone asleep here, her voice gentle.

“Alphino.”

This was the name Tang Rou had secretly given to Number 17, whispered only a few times, known to no one else.

Except for the owner of the name, Number 17, the half-octopus creature.

Behind the screen, someone asked in confusion, “What is she saying?”

A researcher increased the audio volume, filtering out excess noise, and heard her clear and gentle voice.

“Alphino, where are you?”

The person turned and said, “She’s calling ‘Alphino.'”

Someone nearby remarked, “That sounds like a name.”

Someone realized something and laughed, “She actually gave the Experimental Subject a name. How ridiculous.”

The simple, naïve, and fearless female Feeder.

Low laughter echoed through the laboratory.

But suddenly, someone’s smile froze as they stared at the screen and exclaimed, “Wait…”

“Life signs are recovering!”

Professor Xu looked over, cold light flashing across his icy lenses.

On the screen, the electrocardiogram indicating life signs slowly began to show a faint curve.

The life signs were truly recovering!

Their voices were no longer just surprised. Someone, trembling slightly, said, “The Experimental Subject’s biological signal spectrum has changed somewhat…”

.

“Alphino.”

The human female in a silver-white uniform continued to call out, as if trying to summon something from the silence.

It was a memory known only to them.

On the day the name was given, Number 17 looked bewildered, his cold and handsome face expressionless as he gazed at her. But Tang Rou knew this was how the young creature showed confusion.

At that time, the Little Octopus had only recently hatched and was still a juvenile. Through Tang Rou’s daily murmurs to the fiberglass, he gradually began to respond to the outside world.

He started interacting with Tang Rou, curiously watching this human female, and then heard her gently say, word by word, in a language he did not yet understand, “Alphino, this is the name I’ve given you. Do you like it?”
He stared blankly at the girl, at her cherry-red lips opening and closing, mist gathering in the ink-green of his eyes.

This was his Feeder.

So gentle, so lovely.

Seeing his confusion, the Feeder pointed to her own chest again, opening her mouth to speak clearly and slowly, “Rou, my name is Tang Rou.”

The Octopus Youth, only half understanding, used his tentacle to pry open the unlocked hatch, poked out of the petri dish, and gazed at her in a daze.

“So cute…” the female Feeder whispered. Under her expectant gaze, the Octopus Youth curled his tentacles and tilted his head at her.

The slender fingers of the human female cautiously and carefully reached out, stroking his cold, damp, ink-green hair, and in a gentle voice she said,

“Rou means very soft.”

Her fingertip slid across his scalp, bringing a strange and wonderful shiver.

He heard her say, “This is what rou means.”

Soft-this sensation. It was his first awakening to the world.

As he gradually grew, he gained the ability to think. When the neurons in his brain became complex enough, he could understand everything she said. That name she almost never called aloud, just like “Tang Rou,” was also his one and only name.

It was a name only she could call-his own name.

Realizing this, Number 17 was extremely happy. He liked this name, and it was given by the one he loved most. Just thinking of this made him so happy he could die.

In this way, Tang Rou quietly gave him a name.

“Alphino, wake up…”

A name that belonged to him alone, unique in the world.

“Alphino…”

In the gentle calling, something shifted among the severed limbs and sticky tentacle remains. From beneath a mass of shattered organic tissue, a hand slowly stretched out-so pale it resembled a plaster statue, tinged with an almost imperceptible blue.

The muscle was taut and beautiful, like the broken sculpture of a deity, with a breathtaking sense of fragility.

“Alphino, I’m here.”

Accompanied by the soft call, the arm struggled to climb upward. The pale, broken youth slowly crawled up from the sea of blood, his body almost completely stripped of intact skin, scattered with wounds deep enough to expose bone.

A long fissure crossed his handsome, delicate face, and beneath it pale blue flesh and tissue was healing at an unbelievable speed.

The battered youth’s eyelashes quivered as he reached out a hand toward the person behind the glass.

“Rou.”

He called softly, his voice carrying a heartbreaking sense of shattering, like a deity’s statue split by a crack.

Such vulnerability did not belong to a creature as powerful as he was.

Behind the glass was the young Feeder, her eyes brimming with tears.

She looked so sad, as if she might cry at any moment.

The Octopus Youth was so distressed he could barely breathe, the sharp, needle-like pain in his chest far greater than any splitting attack he had endured.

“Rou.”

Had he made her sad? If so, he would rather suffer even more torment than see her upset.

The Feeder’s hands, symbols of gentleness, pressed weakly against the glass, her fingertips turning bloodless white from the force.

“Come here, it’s over.” Tang Rou’s eyes reddened slightly as she forced a smile, one more pitiful than tears.

The youth looked at her, his regret and pain nearly suffocating him, as if countless sharp thorns had sprouted in his chest, piercing deeper than any attack he had ever experienced.