The System Arrived Four Years Early, but the Anomaly Is Still a Juvenile - Chapter 112

6:00 AM.

At the garbage bins outside Building 3 of Nanhu International, the cleaning staff prepared to empty the bins into the trash truck as usual. But today, one bin was noticeably heavier.

After much effort, the cleaner managed to push it to the truck and tipped it over—only for a black bag to spill open, revealing the body of a golden retriever. The dog was missing half an eye, patches of fur on its back, and part of its front paws.

“Ah!” The cleaner’s startled scream drew her coworker’s attention.

“Aunt Jiang, what’s wrong?” asked a middle-aged woman, a decade younger.

Aunt Jiang pointed at the bin. “There’s a dead golden retriever in here.”

The woman peered closer. “Huh, I recognize this dog. It belonged to Unit 601. Their bratty kid was always tormenting it. Neighbors say the eye was stabbed with a pencil, the fur burned with a lighter, and the paws crushed in a door. Honestly, death might’ve been a mercy for it. Poor thing.”

“That kid can’t be more than six or seven, right? How can a child be so cruel?” Aunt Jiang frowned.

The woman sighed. “He’s the family’s only grandson—spoiled rotten. The grandma used to take him to pet shops and cat cafés, where he’d abuse animals when no one was looking. And she’d just laugh it off, saying ‘kids love playing with animals.’ Eventually, no shop would let them in. This dog… pfft, they hadn’t even had it half a year.”

Aunt Jiang exhaled heavily. “Still, you can’t just toss a dead dog in the trash. Big breeds like this need proper disposal, or they’ll get fined.”

“Let’s report it to the property office. They can deal with 601. Last thing we need is that old hag screaming at us for ‘meddling.’ Remember how she harassed the last cleaner for complaining about their leaking trash?”

“Good idea.” Aunt Jiang nodded. She was just a cleaner—no need to invite trouble.

The two left to file a report, planning to resume work after the property office handled it.

But moments after they walked away, a thick black mist began seeping from the golden retriever’s corpse, slowly enveloping its body.

The mist sprouted four limbs, merging with the remains until it reshaped into a grotesque, half-melted black hound.

The Spectral Black Hound had only one crimson eye—the other socket was a swirling void of dark fog. From that hollow, a finger-length black tendril slithered out, probing beneath the garbage bin until it dragged out a fat rat and lifted it before the hound’s face.

Then—

Snap.

The hound’s jaws split vertically, each half lined with jagged fangs, and swallowed the rat whole.

Plop.

Blood dripped from its maw, but the red liquid darkened midair, absorbed by the mist.

Gulp.

Gulp.

The hound made wet, nauseating swallowing sounds—the telltale noise of an anomaly feeding.

Though it sensed other living presences (early-morning joggers), it ignored them, padding instead toward Building 3.

In a blink, it reached Unit 601’s door.

It sat motionless for minutes… then raised a claw and dragged blackened nails down the metal door.

Screeeech—

The sound was like a train’s emergency brake—piercing, earsplitting, echoing through the hallway.

“Who the hell is making noise this early? I’ll report you!” The door flew open, revealing an elderly woman.

Then she saw the hound.

Her scream died in her throat as her legs gave out.

“M-M-Monster! Monster!” She scrambled backward on her hands, but at sixty-seven, the fall had sapped her strength.

Gulp.

Gulp.

The hound remained seated, its single red eye locked onto her, swallowing grotesquely but taking no further action.

“Mom? What’s wrong?” A thirty-something man in pajamas emerged—then froze at the sight of the creature.

“P-Pull me inside!” the old woman sobbed.

The man’s legs trembled violently. He couldn’t move, let alone rescue her.

Another shriek came as his wife stumbled out, rubbing sleep from her eyes—only to recoil against the wall at the nightmare on their doorstep.

“Close the door! Close it!” she screamed.

Gulp.

Gulp.

Still, the hound didn’t advance.

The old woman mustered her courage, slammed the door, and fumbled the lock before collapsing against the living room wall. “H-Help me up! I c-can’t move!”

Her son forced his jelly-like legs to carry him over, depositing her on the couch before sinking beside her.

“What the hell was that?” he gasped.

“How should I know?” the old woman snapped. “I thought some brat was scratching the door, and then—that thing!“

His wife trembled. “It… it looked like a dog. Last night, Longlong fed Jinzai chocolate. D-Do you think… it died and came back for revenge?”

“Where’s the body?” the man asked.

“With… with the morning trash.”

A chill ran down his spine. Now that he thought about it, the monster had resembled a dog.

“G-Go check if it’s still there,” his wife urged.

He shook his head violently. “Hell no. You look.”

“What kind of man are you?” she spat.

He muttered, “You say that every night anyway. Doesn’t change the fact I’m not going out there.”

Furious but terrified, the wife crept to the peephole.

The hound hadn’t moved.

She tiptoed back, nodding confirmation.

The man’s heart nearly stopped as he dialed the police.

Just then, a grumpy voice piped up: “You guys are so loud! I can’t sleep!”

A boy of seven or eight in blue pajamas shuffled out, rubbing his eyes.

“Shh!“

“Shh!“

Both parents hissed at once. When the boy opened his mouth to complain, his mother clamped a hand over it.

BANG!

Screeeech—

The hound slammed a paw against the door, then resumed clawing—its swallowing noises growing louder, more frenzied, at the sound of the child’s voice.

“AHHHH!“

The family screamed in unison. The man stammered their address to the dispatcher—then the door exploded inward.

The Spectral Black Hound stepped inside, its gulps echoing.

The wife clutched her son, paralyzed.

The man dropped the phone, shaking uncontrollably.

Only the old woman found her voice: “What are you waiting for? Get Longlong to the bedroom! Now!“

The man cowered behind the sofa.

The wife couldn’t move, her arms locked around her son—who stared, petrified, as the hound advanced.

“You beast!” The old woman grabbed a flowerpot and hurled it. “Stay away from my grandson!”

Then—

The hound’s head expanded, jaws splitting wide like a grotesque umbrella before it lunged—

Chomp.

The old woman’s upper half vanished into its maw.

Her lower half collapsed, spilling blood and organs across the floor.

“AHHH—“

“AHHHHHH!“

The wife’s screams filled the apartment as the boy wrenched free and bolted into a bedroom, slamming the door.

“Longlong!”

“LONGLONG!“

…..

Knock knock!

Yu Tiexiong, Team 2’s captain on duty, burst into the office. “Chief! Nancheng District Police reported an anomaly at Nanhu International!”

“Enter.” Deng Yuqi set down her pen and summoned logistics via intercom.

Yu saluted. “Ten minutes ago, the police received a call from Nanhu International. Residents of Building 3, 6th floor, reported a ‘melting black monster’ attacking people. Officers arrived to find the door open, the creature sitting in a blood-soaked living room with no victims in sight. When they approached, it extended black tendrils, dragged one officer inside, and… bit him in half. The surviving officer called us immediately. Feng’s team is en route. Who should we assign?”

Who indeed?

Lin Yin was still hospitalized after returning from abroad. Chen Ke had transitioned to a desk job. That left… her and Shen Ge.

“Where’s Shen Ge?” Deng Yuqi asked.

Yu coughed awkwardly. “His phone’s set to AI voicemail. Basically says unless you call, he’s ‘on paid leave’ and won’t answer.”

“…”

Deng sighed and dialed Shen Ge herself.

*”Hello! This is Little Seven Hotline! Master is currently ‘enjoying the pleasures of King Zhou’ and unavailable. Emergencies: call 911. Teammate drinks: contact Wang Han. Anomaly sightings: scream loudly. Non-chief personnel, please wait until paid leave concludes. PS: It’s paid leave!”*

Deng’s fist clenched.

What has he programmed this AI to say?

Wait.

Why did that phrasing sound so… suggestive?

After ten deep breaths, Deng growled, “This is Deng Yuqi. Transfer me.”

“Voice match 100%. Connecting…”

…..

Shen Ge grabbed his buzzing phone from the nightstand. Deng Yuqi’s name flashed on-screen—already connected.

“Chief?”

“Where are you?”

“The embrace of tenderness.”

“…”

What kind of answer is that?

But Deng instantly understood: Girlfriend’s place.

Cutting to the chase, she said, “Anomaly at Nanhu International. Isn’t your girlfriend in Nancheng? Can you check it out?”

“Tier?”

“Initial reports suggest 1 or 2. Feng’s team is evacuating residents now.”

“Fifteen-minute drive from here,” Shen Ge said.

“Appreciate it. We’re expanding recruitment—headquarters launched a trainee program. Soon, you won’t be so overworked.”

(She didn’t mention the real bottleneck: anomaly gear. Resources were funneled to Shen Ge as their “insurance policy” against high-tier threats, stunting team growth.)

(Then again, pre-Shen Ge, anomalies were rare—Rong City saw maybe a handful in years. Equipment was so scarce she and Lin Yin had to share Frost Module and Anomaly Gauntlet.)

(But since Shen Ge joined—or more accurately, since his system awakened—anomaly frequency had skyrocketed. From years-between-incidents to monthly outbreaks. If it were just Rong City, she’d suspect he was the catalyst.)

(Yet globally, anomalies were increasing. Cities culled stray animals, but that was a band-aid solution. Anomalies didn’t exclusively stem from strays—any abused creature could transform. Banning pets? Useless. Pet owners weren’t the abusers.)

(And it wasn’t just cats and dogs. Birds. Livestock. Fish. Anything living could mutate—except humans.)

(After the Chongqing Tier-4 incident, attacks had briefly declined… only to resurge a month later.)

(Continents held summits, seeking solutions, but like the Asia Anomaly Research Conference, none bore fruit. Stricter animal welfare laws? Surface-level fixes. China could enforce them, but Western nations? With their meat-eaters, vegans, eco-warriors, and Walmart bag activists? Good luck.)

(Still, more anomalies meant more anomaly remains—more gear, more recruits. A silver lining.)

(The future holds promise!)

…..

Cheng Shengnan sat up, clutching the sheets. “Was that an anomaly nearby? You need to leave now? Should I drive you?”

“Sleep. I’ve got it.” Shen Ge kissed her forehead and began gathering his clothes.

“But you don’t drive,” she pointed out.

He raised his right wrist, showing a black watch. “I don’t. But it does. Meet Little Seven—cutting-edge AI.”

“Yesterday, I noticed… your watch smells faintly of blood and rot. What is it?”

“High-tech fused with anomaly remains. Supergear. Could pilot a tank if needed.”

“Take my car, then. Keys on the coffee table. Parking spot B2, left side.”

“Got it.” Dressed, he headed out.

“Be safe.”

“Orders received!”

“Will you come back tonight?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

“Then I will.”