Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

The blade flashed, like a cold, ephemeral flower blooming in the darkness!

puff!

The dull thud of a blade slicing into flesh, the screams of the dying, the roars of panic, and the whistling of bullets piercing the air—all intertwined in an instant, creating a cruel symphony of death.

Faced with inhuman speed and physical prowess, he was like a wolf among sheep, killing as easily as chopping melons and vegetables.

The head rolled off, severed limbs flew up, and internal organs were exposed to the cold air.

Blood splattered on his face and body, staining his black clothes even darker and sticking stickily to his skin.

Bullets struck his thigh, shoulder, and even side of his abdomen, causing bursts of blood to erupt.

But he only shuddered slightly, his smile grew even brighter, and he even let out a low laugh.

"Haha...hahahahaha..."

The laughter grew louder, echoing through the bloody slaughterhouse, both frenzied and joyful.

"Koniak!!"

A cold, sharp shout pierced through the chaos.

Gin arrived without hesitation and pulled the trigger.

The bullet whistled out, aiming straight for Qingze's knee.

However, it was as if Qingze had eyes in the back of his head; the bullet grazed his thigh, leaving a trail of blood.

He turned abruptly, his scarlet eyes locking onto Gin, a sinister smile on his face.

"Ah~ Gin."

He dragged the knife, walking step by step, the tip of the knife scraping against the cement ground with a piercing sound, leaving a winding trail of blood.

"Did you feel it?"

He smiled, his face displaying a morbid, almost intoxicated satisfaction.

"This is what it means to be alive!"

Chapter 533 I've Never Been This Good

As the last word fell, Qingze sprang up, his long sword whistling through the air, slashing straight at Qin Jiu's face!

Gin's pupils contracted sharply, and he dodged to the side. The blade grazed his hair, severing a few strands of silver hair.

He then delivered a powerful kick to Qingze's chest!

"boom!"

With a heavy thud, Qingze staggered back a few steps, coughing up a mouthful of blood, but seemed to feel no pain. Instead, he licked the blood from the corner of his mouth, his smile becoming increasingly distorted.

Gin's bullet followed closely, piercing his left scapula with pinpoint accuracy, and blood splattered everywhere.

What's wrong with you?!

Aoze raised his head, his wet white hair sticking to his pale cheeks, his scarlet eyes staring straight at Gin.

"Crazy? No... I feel great right now."

He grinned, revealing teeth stained with blood.

"I've never... felt this good before."

kill!

Kill them all!!

His maniacal laughter erupted again, and his wounds posed no obstacle as he charged forward once more, knife in hand.

"Anesthetic grenades! High-concentration sedatives! Quickly! Covert fire!"

Gin gave the order in a stern voice, his expression more solemn than ever before.

A special squad quickly appeared, and dozens of launchers were simultaneously aimed at the crazed figure.

"Whoosh whoosh whoosh—!!"

Countless specially made injections, like a dense swarm of bees, instantly enveloped Qingze.

Within two or three seconds, his body was covered with countless anesthetic needles, making him look like a human hedgehog.

The high-speed injection of potent medication rapidly surged into the bloodstream. The frantic movements abruptly froze, and a tsunami of intense dizziness and weakness washed over him.

The world is tilting, it is getting dark.

In the instant before his consciousness completely plunged into darkness, he used the last bit of strength he had left to throw the long knife he was holding tightly at one of the team members who had fired the most aggressively earlier!

The long sword pierced the team member's chest with precision, pinning him to the wall behind him.

A strange, satisfied, pale smile froze on Qingze's face before he fell heavily forward, splattering blood everywhere.

His consciousness seemed to be floating in the ocean, and Qingze heard a voice in his ear.

At first, it mingled with the roar of blood flowing through the eardrums, and with the slow, heavy beating of my own heart.

Like the hands of a clock ticking away at infinity, endlessly ticking...tick-tock...

It was like some kind of omnipresent, extremely low-frequency radio wave humming, directly vibrating the skull and penetrating into the deepest layers of thought.

“Koniak…”

"Koniak, Koniak..."

The sound seemed to come from beyond the deep water, with a strange echo, ethereal and elusive, making it impossible to discern gender, age, or even the specific direction.

Like a lullaby, it allows consciousness to sink into a deeper void.

"...You're tired...Relax..."

"It's safe here, this is the safest place..."

As the words were spoken, my tense body slowly relaxed, and a sense of peace welled up inside me, as if I had returned to the safest place I could ever be.

"No need to think, no need to resist, just follow my words..."

“You are Koniak, obedience is your only instinct, every word I say is an order you must carry out…”

“I am Koniak, and your words are orders I must carry out…”

"...Delete all distracting thoughts from your mind, leaving only my instructions. Remember, only by obeying me can you find peace..."

"Only by obeying you can I find peace..."

"You cannot resist, nor do you want to resist. My voice will remain in your mind forever, guiding all your actions, never fading away..."

"I cannot resist, nor do I want to resist..."

Qingze watched his younger self lying on the restraint platform from an outsider's perspective.

The soaked, blood-stained clothes have been changed, the bleeding wounds have been bandaged, and even the face and hair have been restored to cleanliness.

The restraint platform tightly bound him, his eyes were blindfolded, and only his lips could be seen trembling slightly, uttering barely audible murmurs.

“I am Koniak, obedience is my instinct… Your words are orders I must carry out…”

A dark figure stood beside the restraint platform, his voice coming from his throat, indistinguishable in age or gender.

"...All your thoughts are given by me, all your actions are controlled by me, you are a puppet of my will..."

"Puppet...I am a puppet..."

The boy murmured softly, but then began to struggle violently.

"You're the fucking puppet!!"

"Sedatives, quick!"

Several lab technicians rushed in, and the sedative was quickly injected into the muscles.

The boy on the restraint platform slowly calmed down and fell into a state of unconsciousness once again.

Qingze stood quietly in the scene of his memory, or rather, his consciousness was suspended above this past, like an observer.

He looked at himself on the stage, a figure several years younger and covered in wounds, and felt neither joy nor sorrow, unsure whether it was the harmonics at work or something else.

It's like watching an old movie where you're the main character, but you already know the plot by heart.

That intense hatred and resentment, like a calm lake, did not cause the slightest ripple.

"In this state, your willpower is still so strong... Well then, let's take it slow..."

The shadowy figure sighed, finally revealing the true, slightly magnetic voice of a young man.

Qingze's gaze instantly shifted from the boy himself to the dark figure.

The shadow remained a shadow; he had never seen the other's figure before. Therefore, in the corridors of memory, he was merely a shadow.

But at this moment, as consciousness teeters on the brink of collapse, the body unconsciously captures "redundant information" that is too faint to be filtered out by reason...

It was reproduced.

The shadowy figure seemed to have its veil lifted slightly, revealing itself to be a middle-aged man with a blurred face.

One day, two days... a month... time became blurred in the darkness and cold constraints.

Qingze saw the sunlight again.

Almost reflexively, his body tensed up, and he took a half-step back, embedding himself in the shadows.

Those long-unseen crimson pupils suddenly contracted to pinpoints, sending a sharp, aching pain through them.

He looked up at the sunlight, letting his eyes overflow with physiological tears under the glaring light.

His physical wounds had all healed, but his spirit seemed to have suffered a severe blow.

One task after another.

He carried it out meticulously.

They infiltrate silently, kill swiftly and cleanly, and react to unexpected situations with ghostly speed.

The task report is concise and accurate. Judging from the results, it is more reliable, more efficient, and more like a perfect tool than before.

But inside this perfectly executed shell, something is slowly rotting.

Boredom, repression, emptiness...

Consciousness seemed to be split into two: one clamoring for loyalty and obedience, and the other clamoring for madness and destruction.

He walked alone in this desolate wasteland of split consciousness, carrying out his duties, feeling weary and repressed, waiting for a complete collapse or liberation that might never come.

Chapter 534 appears in Poirot's Fryward.

The buzzing of the alarm clock shattered the tranquility of the early morning.

Ran Mouri opened her eyes groggily, her consciousness still lingering on the edge of a dream.

Instinctively, she reached out from under the warm covers and groped on the bedside table to silence the source of the noise. Her other hand reached for her phone beside the pillow, unlocked it with her fingerprint, and the screen lit up.

There were several unread messages in the early hours of the morning, sent by Qingze.

As she regained consciousness, she rubbed her eyes and checked the message's sending time.

It's 4 a.m.

So late? Did you stay up all night again?

She read through the messages one by one.

[I've located Dr. Payton's location; I'm going to the research institute to assist him with his research. It's the consciousness retracing pod you were in before. There's no danger; don't worry.]

I will find out why our consciousnesses were swapped, and if the conditions are right, I will eliminate any future problems.

Ran Mouri frowned slightly.

To cooperate with Dr. Payton's research?

She always felt that Dr. Payton's research was not as simple as it seemed.

Looking back at those memories feels like deliberately provoking my emotions.

Is Qingze really going to be alright?