Chapter 612: This Medicine Is Way Too Powerful!

Thud…

Hao Yun ignored Xie Yanshan's words entirely until he saw Zhang Su walking over; then he dropped the hen on the ground, wagging his tail with a smug grin, completely unconcerned with Xie Yanshan's simmering frustration beside him.

"Dead. Completely dead. Damn, what a waste—ruined a whole chicken!"

Xie Yanshan covered his face with one hand and picked up the hen with the other, shaking it gently; it hung limp, head and wings drooping, as he sighed heavily in despair.

"Wang!"

Hao Yun was deeply dissatisfied with Xie Yanshan's words—what did he mean by "ruined"?

He leapt from his hand, snatched the hen back, clamped it in his mouth, and prepared to carry it off to eat—no waste at all! "Hey, Lao Xie, what the hell are you doing? What happened to your face? Come on, let's go talk inside Cuileng Pavilion!"

Zhang Su slung an arm around Xie Yanshan's shoulder and gave Hao Yun a meaningful glance.

Hao Yun moved with lightning speed, darting into the courtyard, tossing the hen to the ground, then sitting beside it, guarding it with a gleeful wag of his body and shining eyes—perfectly delighted.

Once the two men and the dog vanished from view, the others immediately began whispering.

"Hey, hey, you think Dr. Xie is experimenting with something new? That chicken you just saw—insane! Could it be some kind of biochemical agent? Are they turning us into super soldiers?"

"You've got a wild imagination—biochemical agent? Super soldiers? With the infrastructure here in camp, do you really think that's possible?"

"Oh no, could the chicken have turned into a corpse? That'd be bad—I saw Dr. Xie's face got scratched!"

"Stop guessing wildly. We've seen plenty of dead animals over this long time—where's the corpse transformation? Don't waste your brain cells. Let's think about how to handle the zombies in the high-speed train carriages instead!"

Not only were the Yanluo Army members whispering; on the second-floor balcony of Xiao Xingyun Guesthouse, Fu Weijun, seated in a wheelchair, and Duan Wuhu were also talking.

"Old Xie definitely fed the chicken those pills Mr. Zhang brought out last time—what nonsense…"

"What's wrong? Is there a problem with the procedure?"

Duan Wuhu asked in confusion; if there was an issue, he needed to report it to Zhang Su promptly.

"Of course it's wrong! Don't you remember how Mr. Zhang described that drug? It was designed to boost combat power—so naturally, it should be taken by humans, not chickens! This is pure nonsense! If I were testing it, I'd just cut off a tiny piece and swallow it—I'd have a detailed report in minutes. Old Xie is too cautious!"

"I think you're the one being ridiculous!"

Duan Wuhu's forehead darkened with exasperation—he couldn't believe this guy had zero remorse. He worried whether Fu Weijun's ten-day punishment would even reform him.

By the blacksmith's shop, Ding Yongguo and Zheng Ziwen were also watching the spectacle; both wore aprons, oddly dressed, yet standing inside the blacksmith's shop they carried themselves with authority.

"Uncle, what just happened?"

Zheng Ziwen asked while scraping rust off iron, his face full of curiosity and delight—flying chickens and flying dogs were hilarious to him.

Ding Yongguo frowned slightly: "I don't know. But I do know that dog was terrifyingly strong—don't ever provoke it, understood?"

"I'm not stupid—I can tell. That dog isn't just powerful, he only listens to Brother Zhang. Don't worry, I won't cause trouble."

Zheng Ziwen had been on the mountain for several days, witnessing all kinds of things; gradually, he realized his own insignificance and learned to speak and act with caution.

But another person was exactly the opposite—Wang Zhetao on the second floor of Wangshan Guesthouse.

He excitedly told his father what he'd just seen, his face glowing: "Dad, look—there's a dog in camp this strong. Brother Zhang and the others must've developed a drug to make people powerful. Go ask him for some, okay?"

"Ask for what, bullshit!"

Wang Guangjun, aware his voice was loud, deliberately lowered it to reply to Wang Zhetao: "Kid, can you just settle down? We moved up to Tianma Yu—you should work hard and honestly. Ditch that lazy, sneaky mindset, got it?"

A father knows his son best—Tan Huajun knew Wang Zhetao slacked off on work; how could Wang Guangjun not know why his son did two or three people's labor? He did it just to silence others' gossip about Wang Zhetao…

Wang Zhetao was scolded; he pouted, fell silent, turned to look out the window, his eyes darting rapidly—clearly thinking hard.

"Mr. Zhang, to be honest, these chickens were the ones I applied for to use in experiments… ah… look at this, look at this—turned into this…"

Entering Cuileng Pavilion, Xie Yanshan saw the dead hen on the floor and winced again; he glared irritably at the wagging Pekingese.

He grieved for the hen, grieved for the pills, and grieved for the experimental sample whose reaction hadn't been recorded after ingestion!

"This is the pill I gave you, right?" Zhang Su had been swamped these past few days and had completely forgotten about it—never expected the experiment to blow up like this.

"Exactly! I finally got a hen back yesterday, started the experiment today—and now it's dead. What a tragedy."

"Stop lamenting. Are you okay? I saw you bled a lot…"

Zhang Su motioned for Xie Yanshan to move his hand; after inspecting the wound, he immediately grabbed his walkie-talkie: "Xiaoshan, Dr. Xie has a deep gash on his face—bring some supplies right away."

Tap-tap-tap…

Just then, hurried footsteps came down the stairs; Zuo Fengjuan entered holding gauze, disinfectant, and other items: "Brother Zhang, I know some first aid—let me treat Dr. Xie's wound first."

"Alright, come on, let's go inside—we'll treat the wound while we talk."

"Wang!"

As Zhang Su ushered everyone inside, Hao Yun barked loudly, nudged the hen with his nose, then tilted his head toward the door—clearly asking: Can I take my prize now?

"Put it down, put it down! What are you, crazy? Don't eat everything—you'll poison yourself! Thanks for helping today. Go to the kitchen at noon—you'll get extra food. Deal?"

Zhang Su coaxed Hao Yun like a child.

"Woo…"

Hao Yun pouted dramatically, pawing the ground in a distinctly human-like gesture, then swiped the hen with one sharp motion, sending it skidding into the corner, before shooting off like lightning and vanishing.

"Damn it…"

Zhang Su rolled his eyes—this little guy was the only one in camp who dared act up to him. He walked to the corner, picked up the hen, and carried it into the lab.

"The actual outcome was unexpected, Mr. Zhang. My initial assumption was wrong—the core zombie organ tissue isn't the key!"

Xie Yanshan, face up as he received treatment, didn't wait for Zhang Su to speak—he began reporting immediately.

"Huh?"

Zhang Su blinked. "So the hen's allergic to Sichuan pepper and chili? That's why it went berserk?"

He remembered the white wax pill's main ingredients were exactly those—plus flour. Only the inner "filling"—a fragment of zombie organ—was unusual.

"Ouch… Nurse Zhong, sorry to trouble you."

Xie Yanshan winced as he spoke, then saw Zhong Xiaoshan storming in.

"No problem. Let me see…" Zhong Xiaoshan said nothing, immediately getting to work.

"Treat the wound while you talk."

Zhang Su gestured for Xie Yanshan to continue.

Zhong Xiaoshan efficiently cleaned the wound; Zuo Fengjuan assisted beside her. Though they spoke no words, their coordination was smooth.

"It definitely isn't an allergy…"

Xie Yanshan said: "I suspect mutual catalysis. But what catalyzed what—or whether there are other unknown ingredients besides flour, Sichuan pepper, and chili—we don't know yet. In short, what I just did…"

He then explained the experiment's procedure: first, he fed the hen 0. gram of the organ tissue—the hen showed no reaction. After ten minutes, he fed it 0. gram from the outer shell.

Less than five seconds after swallowing the shell powder, its eyes turned blood-red, and a violent aura exploded outward with its bristling feathers.

"Thank goodness I wasn't inside the lab when it happened—or this room would've been destroyed…"

Xie Yanshan felt deeply satisfied with his own foresight.

"You should be thinking about your own safety, not the room!"

Zhang Su glanced at the dead hen on the floor—its wingtips were stained with blood. No need to guess: Xie Yanshan's facial wound came from those wings. A beak peck was understandable, claws scratching was plausible—but wings slicing open skin? That was terrifying.

If that old man had been trapped in a room with that rabid hen, he'd be dead in half a minute.

(End of chapter)