The Creature Keeper - chapter 46

He waited expressionlessly, silently counting the time in his mind.

“How much longer will you be?”

“Mm… not much longer.” On a seat not far away, a hoarse, unsteady breath replied.

The Sea Rabbit had once wondered: what was he doing?

Those clouded, crimson eyes stared at him fixedly, his body heating up like an overheated glass beaker, the temperature steadily rising.

But he wasn’t really interested.

Other than his Feeder, he had no excess curiosity about anything.

The boy sank down, his long, pale hands stirring the water, but was stopped by the man’s call.

“Don’t go in yet. Let me look at you.”

The man was trembling, collapsed on a simple bed facing the water tank, back against the wall, his voice sticky and pleading, the metal panel vibrating again and again, birthing a fine, hazy mist.

Perhaps the steam came from the heat of the man’s sweat.

He was agitated, teetering on the edge of madness, his eyes filled with a greedy, sickly desire.

Behind the glass was pristine, clear artificial seawater, and the pale, delicate Sea Rabbit boy was beautiful. His light reddish-brown eyes were pure and clear, untouched by any impurity, his long lashes fluttering like two little fans along with the water’s ripples.

So beautiful… that one wanted to destroy him.

The male experimenter let out an ugly growl, much like those mammals were accustomed to, physiological tears trailing from the corners of his crimson eyes.

The boy raised a dazed hand to press against the edge of the water tank. Crystal drops of water fell to the floor as he tilted his head in confusion, dampening a small patch of carpet.

A black shadow seemed to grow over the experimenter’s heart, as those gem-like, clear eyes followed his every move in confusion.

He wanted, he longed so much…

He wanted to lock him up, make him his own, wanted to cage him like a pet, with only himself as master, to feed him, nurture him, and then sully those clear eyes.

Zhang Ning stretched out his neck, tilting his head back, so excited that even his pupils rolled back into his sockets.

Drool clung to the corner of his mouth, not wiped away in time.

The boy’s interest was scant, like a soulless, beautiful puppet. Aside from the urgent desire to see his Feeder, he felt nothing else.

The man made the Sea Rabbit boy sit atop the water tank, made him obediently follow his orders; he wanted to keep watching him.

His sweat-slicked hand pulled from his trousers, his belt had somehow fallen to the floor, his white lab coat discarded who knew where, the air thick with sweat and a strange metallic tang.

So obedient.

This healing creature looked docile and naïve.

The boy’s soft, pale fingers rested on the glass, the tender tips pressed flat, a faint blush showing through. Zhang Ning stared deathly at that spot of color, imagining how soft and tender it must be.

Number 11 was a healing-type being, the most enchanting and beautiful sight set in cold, artificial seawater. His obsessed gaze never wavered from the boy’s face, his body, the faint bump of his throat, the lines of his neck, those elegantly long limbs.

“Ha…” He wound the beautiful humanoid in his gaze, a sickly flush rising on his well-maintained face as he made messy, ugly noises.

The boy turned his head, trying to avoid that disgusting gaze.

The new Feeder’s sticky breath was like rotting coral.

He stood wholly outside this incomprehensible behavior, listlessly wondering when the other would finish, when he could see Rou, as he listened to the man’s rambling behind him.

Calling him his muse, the source of his desire.

Begging him not to look away, crawling on the carpet like a deranged addict, gazing up from below at the boy perched on the tank, reaching out his stinking hand, trying to grab the boy’s toes.

The Sea Rabbit boy didn’t understand, nor did he care. When his ankle was grabbed, Zhang Ning eagerly opened his mouth to kiss him, but the boy, thinking he was about to bite, quickly pulled his foot back into the tank.

The patch of skin touched felt disgusting, faintly smeared with damp, sticky slime.

The Sea Rabbit suppressed a surge of anger, scrubbing the pale skin until it was nearly raw, then closed his eyes and lay at the bottom of the tank, unmoving.

Only the Feeder could touch him.

Only the Feeder-he was desperate to see his Feeder, desperate to know what kind of reaction Tang Rou would have upon seeing him.

He longed, longed, longed to be held in her arms, to crawl at her feet, to look up at her with reddened eyes in the softest, most pitiful way she couldn’t resist, and gently, clinging to her slender, lovely calves, confess his love to her.
He could hardly wait any longer.

The man outside the water tank started pleading again.

His fervent, crazed eyes stared at him, and his ugly face pressed against the glass wall, distorted out of shape.

“It’s almost ready, just wait a little longer. When you come out, please…” The male lab technician seemed unable to finish a complete sentence, pausing to grunt before he could stammer out the rest, “Look at me, just look at me.”

He was kneeling on the ground, his posture grotesque.

Why did he have to look at him?

The youth’s eyes were openly filled with impatience and annoyance.

The man yearned for those beautiful eyes to one day look at him, full of reliance and affection.

It would surely happen… Such a simple-minded marine creature-if cared for long enough, it would naturally become like a stray dog that had tasted bones, circling his feet devotedly.

He could imitate the feeding methods of that female Feeder.

That sweat-soaked hand pressed meaninglessly against the glass, tracing the boy’s outline. His fingers touched the cold glass, but in his mind he fantasized about exploring his soft, tender body.

He wanted even more…

A splash.

“Is it done?” The beautiful youth looked down at him, growing somewhat impatient.

No matter whom those eyes faced-other than his original Feeder-they would never turn wet and pitifully red, let alone cry.

He was as indifferent as a machine.

Yet this emotionless, icy beauty only drew the man in further, deepening his obsession.

He once again prostrated himself before the water tank, his voice hoarse, as if it had been ground by coarse gravel, grating and dry.

“No, not yet.”

Not enough.

The cracks of greed were torn wider-just looking was no longer enough to satisfy him.

He raised his hand, and in his obsession grabbed the boy’s calf. “Don’t pull away. I’ll be done soon.”

This stunning beauty was a treasure, and so was this fragile, easily toppled form. The body that would collapse with a gentle push was a treasure, as was his cold, indifferent mind, untainted by worldly values.

His pitiful innocence was a treasure.

However, the Sea Rabbit boy was not transferred to Sector S as expected, nor did he see his Feeder.

That man sought him out even more frequently.

Sometimes it was in the deserted afternoons, sometimes deep in the night-always when no one else was around.

He avoided everyone’s eyes, transporting the Sea Rabbit in a tank under the guise of testing him, then locking him in a closed room at the end of a narrow escape tunnel, wantonly fantasizing about him with his eyes.

For the Sea Rabbit boy, this only disturbed his rest at the bottom of the tank.

But Zhang Ning had promised to take him to see his Feeder.

Each time, he would ask, “When can I see her?”

The man would reply, “Next time, next time I’ll take you to see her.”

But it never happened.

From beginning to end, the Sea Rabbit never saw his Feeder again.

–

In the spacious conference hall of Sector S in Babel Tower, not a single person spoke.

The atmosphere could only be described as frozen.

A giant square widescreen hovered above the circular conference table, displaying the heads of each Base and the governing bodies with speaking authority.

Tang Rou, as a Feeder from Sector S, sat at the far end of the observer’s row. She hadn’t slept all night, her eyelids heavy.

Her phone lit up, a text popping on the screen.

“Most Beautiful Woman in the Universe”: Why so tired? Didn’t sleep well?

Tang Rou lifted her heavy eyelids and, across a few rows, saw Aselan winking exaggeratedly at her.

“…”

She forced herself to type a reply.

“Don Quixote”: Only slept a few hours. How could I possibly sleep well?

“Don Quixote”: Can I ask you something… I feel like Number 17 is a little depressed.

“Most Beautiful Woman in the Universe”: Oh? Tell me more.

Slacking off was always more interesting than meetings. On the surface, Aselan looked serious, but her face glowed faintly from her phone screen, the corners of her mouth curling in a quirky smile.

Tang Rou’s temples throbbed as she typed, her expression bitter.

“Don Quixote”: He… um, don’t get me wrong, he wanted me to eat him, even tried to feed me his tentacle.

“Pfft…”

A sudden choking sound rang out in the solemn conference hall.

Tang Rou looked up expressionlessly, watching as Aselan apologized to those beside her, then took out a napkin to wipe her mouth and clean up the coffee she had just sprayed all over the table.

“…”

Her mind was buzzing.