Skinwalker Belle – Chapter 447 – Wearing My Clothes Makes You Mine

Zhu Yan crouched beside Chen Dingjun’s corpse, wiped the blood-stained chip clean, and slipped it into her pocket.

Her movements were slow, her fingers trembling slightly.

After the Dragonization receded, the layer of dark golden scales on her body was peeling off piece by piece, revealing large areas of skin underneath.

The clothes she’d worn when she arrived had long since been shredded into strips of cloth during her transformation. Now only a few scales that hadn’t fully shed were barely covering her vital areas.

“Catch.”

A wad of black fabric flew in from diagonally behind her and landed in her arms.

Zhu Yan looked down. It was a set of sports bra and yoga pants, along with a pair of white sneakers.

The fabric had excellent elasticity—it felt like the high-end quick-dry material from before the Post-apocalypse.

She looked up and saw Lin Fan leaning against a broken corridor pillar, a communicator pinched between two fingers, his other hand sweeping back the white hair scattered by the sea breeze.

“I used to wear these.” Lin Fan didn’t even look up. “They’re washed. Make do with them.”

Zhu Yan froze for a moment.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.

She glanced down at the clothes in her arms, then at the scales still sloughing off her own body, and finally turned around silently, facing away from the others to change.

“Thanks.”

Her voice was muffled.

Lin Fan’s gaze lingered for half a second on the old scar running from her shoulder blade down to her waist, but he said nothing.

That scar was very old—not left by Dragonization, but by the laboratory.

Zhu Yan finished changing quickly. The yoga pants hugged her legs snugly, and the sports bra fit perfectly—their builds really were about the same.

When she turned back around, her expression had already resumed that hard, brittle calm.

“The clothes fit well.”

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“No shit.” Lin Fan finally looked at her. “My taste has never been off.”

The comment sounded a little odd.

Zhu Yan didn’t take the bait. She just lowered her head and flexed her wrists. The aftereffects of Dragonization were still lingering—a dull ache in her joints—but the energy that had erupted from her Bloodline was now flowing steadily through her body.

Peak of the Seventh Rank.

She’d never imagined she could stand at this height.

“Alright, enough brooding over there.” Lin Fan pulled a cloth pouch out of System Space and tossed it in his palm. “Come here. There’s work to do.”

Zhu Yan walked over.

Lin Fan handed her the pouch of Space Stones.

“These are called Space Stones. They have Azurewood City’s coordinates locked in. Give them to Zhou Ming when the time comes—he’ll know what to do.”

Zhu Yan took them, weighed the pouch in her hand, and frowned slightly. “Azurewood City?”

“On the Dragon Spirit Continent side. My territory.” Lin Fan said it casually. “On the other side of the Rift, it’s safer than Blue Star.”

Zhu Yan didn’t press further.

She was a smart woman—she knew this wasn’t the time for digging into details.

“Your next task.” Lin Fan raised one finger. “First: keep an eye on Wang Shan.”

They both turned their gaze toward the figure huddled at the base of the flagpole twenty meters away.

Wang Shan had pulled his pants back up, but his mental state clearly hadn’t recovered yet.

“He still has a batch of usable Puppet Warriors under his command. Have him control them to gather up every survivor they can find around the Black Palace and escort them all to Western Sichuan.”

Zhu Yan’s brow furrowed. “Partnering with him?”

“Not partnering.” Lin Fan corrected. “You’re watching him. He leads the way, you do the escorting. If he tries any tricks…”

She tilted her head slightly and smiled.

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“You probably want to hit him even more than I do.”

Zhu Yan was silent for two seconds, then nodded.

That reason was enough.

“How do we handle transport?” Zhu Yan asked. “If there are a lot of survivors, just going on foot—”

“Chu Chen will send transport planes over.” Lin Fan snapped her fingers. “Chen Dingjun and Wang Shan’s entire assets are ours now. Whatever planes, armored vehicles, and helicopters the Federation has left, Chu Chen can deploy them freely.”

Zhu Yan took a moment to process that.

One person.

Had swallowed up the Federation’s entire military resources.

She looked at the woman before her—dressed in cyan hanfu, waist-length white hair—and a complicated feeling rose in her chest.

Awe. Gratitude. And a trace of pure faith.

“Once Zhou Ming finishes dealing with the Pacific base, he’ll return to the capital to regroup with you,” Lin Fan continued, her pace unhurried. “Starting from the capital base, we’ll batch-transport survivors to Azurewood City. Chu Chen will send you the specific schedule—just follow it.”

“Understood.”

Zhu Yan’s reply was crisp.

She hesitated, then asked anyway. “What about you?”

Lin Fan tossed the last Space Stone up and caught it, then tucked it back into System Space.

“I’m going to the Dragon Spirit Continent to handle something.”

“What?”

“Stealing something.”

Zhu Yan waited a moment, but realized the other woman had no intention of elaborating.

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Fine.

She turned and walked toward Wang Shan.

After a few steps, Lin Fan’s voice drifted over from behind, lazy and unhurried.

“Zhu Yan.”

She stopped.

“That chip Chen Dingjun gave you—the data on it is important.” Lin Fan’s tone carried a casual sort of seriousness. “The Bloodline Fusion research is despicable, but the technology itself has no morality. When you get there, hand the chip to Chu Chen.”

Zhu Yan’s hand unconsciously brushed her pocket.

The chip, still carrying the warmth of Chen Dingjun’s body, pressed against her fingertips.

“…Got it.”

She didn’t look back, continuing forward.

Wang Shan saw Zhu Yan approaching and practically jumped, instinctively shrinking behind the flagpole.

“No no no—I’ll cooperate, I’ll fully cooperate—”

Zhu Yan looked down at him, her gaze colder than the wind outside the Black Palace.

“Get up.”

“Yes yes yes.”

Wang Shan scrambled to his feet, his belt still unbuckled, nodding and bowing while pulling up his pants.

“Um… Sister Zhu, can we maybe talk about the division of labor first—”

“Shut up. Walk.”

“Alright alright, walking walking.”

Zhu Yan marched Wang Shan toward the ruins of the Black Palace, his puppet army beginning to reassemble under his mental commands. The puppet soldiers, now lacking a target, stood in rigid formation, awaiting new orders.

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Lin Fan watched the two walk away until Zhu Yan’s silhouette disappeared behind the collapsed stone pillars.

She pulled out her communicator.

“Chu Chen.”

“Here.”

“Send transport planes to the Black Palace coordinates. Zhu Yan will be waiting there. Also, open a direct channel for her—she can reach you directly if anything comes up.”

“Already dispatching them.” The clatter of a keyboard sounded in the background. “There are twelve troop transports in the capital base’s hangar. Range is sufficient.”

“Good.”

Lin Fan shut off the communicator and tucked it back into the side of her undergarment.

She looked up at the sky above the Black Palace.

The light of the Spatial Rift writhed behind the gray clouds, expanding slowly but inexorably.

Lin Fan took a deep breath and rolled her neck.

The mess on Blue Star has been cleaned up. Next, it’s time to head to the Dragon Spirit Continent.

The Dragon Clan’s Mutated Beast breeding grounds—the coordinates Zhou Ming had locked onto earlier.

Thirty thousand kilometers away, the core resource base of the Dragon Emperor Hall.

Inside lay over a century’s worth of accumulated Mutated Beasts and Crystal reserves hoarded by the Dragon Clan.

That was the granary sustaining the Dragon Clan’s military might.

And also the ammunition depot for her to arm Azurewood City.

“Steal his grain, cut off his roots.” Lin Fan muttered to himself, the corners of his mouth curling up.

“I wonder what kind of expression the Dragon Emperor will have when he finds out his home granary has been robbed.”