The Tentacle Monster I Brought Home Always Says It Wants to Fix My Bones at Night - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It took me an entire night to barely digest the fact that “my pet might be a human.”

Pei Yuming.

I wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with that name.

Our biggest client happened to be Deep Tide Biotech.

They were a star company operating under the banners of nerve repair and marine bioactive materials.

Recently, they were planning a round of brand upgrading, focusing on an emotional-sensing medical auxiliary device. They claimed it could monitor human fatigue, anxiety, and pain indices through biocatalysts.

The project my team was fighting for was exactly this one.

And Pei Yuming was the original technical lead for this project.

Three months ago, he suddenly vanished. The company told the public he was on a voluntary leave of absence due to excessive stress.

However, the news reports were very cryptic, containing only a single sentence: “Police have intervened.”

At the time, I had even sighed, thinking that being an executive at a big firm wasn’t easy.

As it turned out, three months later, I picked up a half-human, half-monster version of him in a back alley after a rainy night.

“So, you’re an experimental accident?”

I sat on the sofa, hugging my knees as I asked.

Motiao was curled up on the coffee table like a well-behaved black cloud.

He didn’t deny it, only tapping out a series of intermittent words.

“The core sample of the project isn’t a material.”

“It’s a living organism.”

“It searches for the most suitable neural frequency to parasitize, reorganize, repair, and then devour.”

“I was originally responsible for shutting it down.”

“But someone wanted to turn it into a commodity.”

My heart went cold.

“Is that ‘someone’ Xu Yichuan?”

Motiao paused.

“Xu Yichuan is just on the execution side.”

“The person truly pushing the project forward is Su Jingyao.”

That name made me freeze.

Su Jingyao was the business lead from Deep Tide Biotech who interfaced with our company, and he was also the client director for this case.

He and Xu Yichuan were completely different types of people.

Xu Yichuan was the kind of rotten person who was openly disgusting.

Su Jingyao, however, was always dressed in a sharp suit, spoke gently, and was polite to everyone. He would even say thank you when handing documents to the receptionist.

When I first met him, I actually thought he was a rare example of a client who still had some humanity.

“Are you sure you haven’t made a mistake?”

I subconsciously defended him.

Motiao suddenly raised a tentacle and lightly tapped the tabletop.

My phone vibrated.

He had sent me an encrypted file.

Inside were experimental logs signed by Pei Yuming.

The very first page read: *The project has deployed the “Deep Tide Sample” into human neural matching tests without ethical approval. Lead: Su Jingyao.*

A long string of experiment numbers followed.

The further I scrolled, the colder my hands became.

The test subjects were mostly outsourced employees of Deep Tide Biotech, interns, and some volunteers who had signed non-disclosure agreements for high pay.

In the short term, it indeed alleviated pain, improved reaction times, and enhanced emotional control.

But after a week, they would begin to experience insomnia, auditory hallucinations, and self-harming tendencies.

Beyond that point, it was “personality blurring,” “limb alienation,” and “developing a dependency on the host’s specific emotional sources.”

The final page stopped at three months ago.

There was only one sentence in the remarks.

“If it is forced into the human Stage Four, it is no longer treatment-it is feeding.”

I looked up sharply at Motiao.

He was curled up quietly, as if waiting for me to ask the most crucial question.

My throat tightened. “Then you… what stage are you at now?”

His typing speed slowed down significantly.

“Theoretically, Stage Four.”

“But I cut off the main control halfway through.”

“After I escaped, my consciousness fused with the sample. My memory is unstable.”

“Only when I’m near you does it become quiet.”

My breath hitched. “Why me?”

He was silent for a long time-so long that I thought he wouldn’t answer.

Finally, the phone screen lit up.

“Because that night, you were the only one who saw me and didn’t immediately think of selling me for money or calling the police.”

“You picked me up first.”

“Later, every time you frowned, I wanted to touch you.”

“I wanted to pull you into my arms. I wanted you to cry out in pain only to me.”

In that moment, my nose felt inexplicably stingy.

Actually, my reasons for picking him up and bringing him home weren’t that noble.

I just felt that the thing being thrown away in the rain was exactly like myself, discarded in a corner of this city.

I was afraid it would die.

Perhaps I was also afraid that if I suddenly couldn’t hold on one day, no one would come to pick me up either.

I clutched my phone, and after a long while, I managed to choke out: “Then you adjusting my bones in the middle of the night… was that also because I can make you quiet?”

Motiao was very honest.

“Half of it.”

“For the other half, you really needed the treatment.”

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

As I laughed, my eyes turned red.

But this brief moment of peace didn’t last long.

At noon the next day, Su Jingyao called me personally.

His tone was as gentle as ever. “Shuwan, I heard about what happened with Xu Yichuan. I’m very sorry you had to suffer through that.”

“Is it convenient to meet? I’d like to explain things on behalf of Deep Tide and discuss our future cooperation.”

Just as I was about to refuse, Motiao tapped twice on the back of my hand with a tentacle.

It felt like an alarm.

So, I heard myself say, “Sure, Mr. Su. Seven o’clock tonight.”

After I hung up the phone, Motiao quickly typed out a sentence.

“Don’t be afraid.”

“This time, let me confirm the scent on him.”