Chapter 48

48

They say without demand, there’d be no harm done.

But for various reasons, Lu Yan ultimately paid for a ticket to the Mermaid Club and marked his landlord as a person of interest.

This was one of the privileges of working for the Operations Department. When you suspected someone you’d encountered might be polluted, you could flag them and upload it to the system. Specialized personnel would handle the follow-up investigation later.

City S was a dazzling metropolis of decadence, home to the world’s earliest stock exchange. It had spawned countless myths of overnight riches. Naturally, it also boasted countless venues for exorbitant spending.

If you had the money, you could buy any experience here.

So, the existence of a “Mermaid Club” specifically for humans to admire pollutants… wasn’t entirely incomprehensible.

What Lu Yan received was a boat ticket.

According to the landlord, the Mermaid Club was located on an island near City S, open for half of every month.

Guests would gather, tickets in hand, to board the ship at 7 AM on the 15th of each month.

Food, drink, and lodging at the Mermaid Club were complimentary. Special experiences, however, required additional payment.

Since the club’s location fell under the jurisdiction of the Aonan Special Administrative Region, the landlord specifically reminded Lu Yan to bring his travel permit.

With three days left until the 15th, Lu Yan decided to deal with the matter of transferring Director Hu’s grandson first.

Though placing a child with no blood relation under his own household registration was troublesome, Lu Yan figured the Prevention and Control Center would have a way.

What left him stunned was Du Weiwei’s expression after she looked up the records. Her face went blank with disbelief. “Mr. Lu,” she said slowly. “The records show that Director Hu’s son, daughter-in-law, grandson, and wife… all died in a car accident six years ago.”

Director Hu was always smiling, kind and gentle. Whether in the operating room or on social media, he loved talking about his family. In Lu Yan’s memory, Director Hu’s family life was happy and perfect—something Lu Yan didn’t envy but sincerely wished for him.

Whenever Director Hu brought them up, the other doctors in the OR would always smile and chime in.

Du Weiwei sighed. “After his awakening, Director Hu’s mental state showed some… abnormalities. But after analysis by psychiatric assessors, it was determined these abnormalities lacked aggression or danger. So, he was still approved to join the Special Operations Department.”

It wasn’t a joke that many Awakened had unstable mental states. Sedatives and special medications were standard carry items for most.

Even someone as composed as Lu Yan had, unavoidably during work, popped a few mint candies.

Lu Yan was silent for a long moment. “Alright. I understand.”

*

On the morning of the 15th, Lu Yan arrived at the designated port on time, a small suitcase in hand.

He had considered reporting this to the Special Operations Department or the Prevention and Control Center. But currently, the handling of pollutants seemed to exist in a legal gray area. Did pollutants have human rights? Clearly not.

So, Lu Yan simply filed a basic report and set off alone.

After several upgrades, he now carried a Special Operations Department-issued phone.

This phone could intelligently detect nearby pollution levels with one click, monitor his own mutation index via Bluetooth, and came with built-in navigation, positioning, customer service, and other functions—far more convenient than his old wrist device.

It was just a bit expensive, costing him 200 contribution points.

In the early morning light, a luxury cruise ship sat at the pier, its hull adorned with a beautiful neon mermaid design. At seven sharp, multiple entrances opened.

To Lu Yan’s surprise, the ship had quite a few passengers.

Hundreds of people, men and women, old and young.

Judging by their attire, they were all the privileged elite. They carried various luxury items; some women even wore evening gowns, their wealth and breeding evident in their bones. Lu Yan, dressed like a college student in a plain white T-shirt, black shorts, and sneakers, stuck out like a sore thumb.

After his ticket was verified, Lu Yan boarded without needing to show any other identification.

Since no overnight stay was required, the ship had no guest cabins. Its multiple decks were filled with restaurants and entertainment facilities, all free for visitors.

No wonder a single ticket could fetch a sky-high price of a million, often in short supply on the market.

“The Mermaid Club must be quite profitable,” Lu Yan remarked to the system.

Otherwise, they wouldn’t spend so much outfitting this ship. Walking through, Lu Yan even spotted a golf course and a helipad.

The system: [It is quite profitable. The black industry chain behind it is long. After all, while the social order hasn’t completely collapsed, money remains exceptionally useful.]

[Oh, right. A reminder. The security personnel at the Mermaid Club are all Awakened.]

Not every Awakened joined the Special Operations Department. Some, like Zhou Qimeng, valued their freedom, unwilling to join but willing to accept oversight.

Others simply had criminal records, or their mental states were too unstable to pass the screening.

There were always those who, upon suddenly gaining power beyond ordinary humans, sought privileges above the law.

Like those with hypnotic talents hypnotizing wealthy businessmen and starlets.

Or those with combat talents, unable to control their inner violence, venting through murder.

Such individuals weren’t just disqualified from joining the Special Operations Department—they often ended up on internal wanted lists, to be treated as pollutants on sight.

Lu Yan was good-looking. Or rather, his body—from his features to his build—had perfectly balanced proportions. Like a CG model of a person.

So, even just standing casually on the deck letting the wind ruffle his hair, dressed in ordinary clothes, countless probing eyes lingered on him.

[Do you think beauty is a mistake?] the system suddenly asked.

Lu Yan replied, “No. I know it’s something many people desire.”

Though it occasionally caused him trouble, growing up, he’d enjoyed more privileges because of his appearance.

People around him were always gentler, elders more amiable. Even the cafeteria lady in university would give him an extra piece of meat.

The system: [But for the mermaids at the Mermaid Club, beauty is a mistake.]

[Serious warning, host: Beware of mermaid enthusiasts.]

After Lu Yan politely declined the sixteenth person who tried to strike up a conversation, the cruise ship finally sailed into a stretch of pink-hued sea.

Surprised exclamations rose around him. “The water in Mermaid Bay really is pink!”

The setting sun cast a rosy, golden sheen over the pink waters.

A salty, damp sea breeze swept in. On the reefs, beautiful mermaids sang loudly. Their melodies weren’t recognizable tunes, yet they sounded hauntingly beautiful.

These mermaids, male and female, mostly had gorgeous fishtails.

Lu Yan’s eyesight was sharp. As the ship drew closer, he could even see the scales growing on their lower abdomens. These weren’t fake tails, but real ones, growing from their lower bodies, their scales shimmering in the sunset light.

Wang Yu stirred within him, a faint restlessness.

This was the true song of sirens.

Many listeners became entranced, seemingly recalling the happiest moments of their lives, some even shedding tears of joy.

Lu Yan was no exception, but he only lost himself for an instant before snapping completely back to awareness.

He opened his phone and checked the pollution reading. 120.

Without a doubt, the Mermaid Club was a polluted zone. The mermaids singing on the reefs were likely pollutants.

The only thing that puzzled Lu Yan was that these mermaids weren’t restrained, yet seemed completely non-aggressive. Some early-disembarking tourists had already run over excitedly to take photos with the beautiful creatures.

Throughout, the mermaids maintained perfectly calibrated smiles.

Lu Yan’s hand found the knife concealed under his loose T-shirt. Only then did he feel slightly more at ease.

The system said: [You know, the song of this type of pollutant really does make people instantly recall the best times of their lives.]

[I admit, I shouldn’t peek into your mind at a time like this. But I am omniscient. Even a glance from the corner of my eye… I can’t pretend I didn’t see it. I thought I’d see your college entrance exam score of 727, or the moment you successfully became the head of surgery at City K’s First People’s Hospital. At the very least, a childhood birthday with your mother.]

The system sighed mournfully: [But I truly didn’t expect… what you saw was that dragon raising its tail at you… Isn’t that a bit too perverted, host?]

Lu Yan replied with a completely blank face, “Shut up.”