Chapter 119: Dusk
The room was a mess. In the fading light of the late afternoon, the lampshade seemed dim as well. Inside the hastily rented apartment, nobody spoke as anger spread through the air.
Thud, thud, thud...
Amid the dull, heavy noises, the scar-faced captain had just returned from outside. After slamming the door shut, he looked toward the Chosen One standing watch in the corner. Once he confirmed that both inside and outside were shielded, he could no longer hold back his fury.
He hurled his hat to the ground, kicked a chair aside, and screamed, “Have you lost your mind today? Damn it, this isn’t the Central Lands, got that? If you piss off the Security Bureau, do you think we’ll even make it out of Haizhou alive?!
“All you ever think about is killing, killing, killing. What the hell are you killing for? We’re out here to make money, not to play at murder, understand? Without money, who’s going to pay for your treatment? Do you even know how many people are looking for us out there right now? Well, great, huh? Now, we can’t earn money, so we’ll just sit around and wait to die, damn it!”
Thud, thud, thud...
The dull noises continued, but no one responded. That only made the captain angrier. “Herbert, I’m talking to you. Do you hear me?!”
“Heh...” By the table, Herbert leaned against the wall, his head bumping against it again and again, a hollow smile on his face, his expression twitching from time to time. On the foil spread out on the table, traces of powder still remained. “Captain... It’s my fault, I know... I shouldn’t have... I was wrong...”
Lost in the hallucinations of the drug, Herbert’s pupils were dilated, his breathing uneven. His eyes were bloodshot, growing redder with each twitch.
“I know... but there are voices, voices... the sound of dripping water, bells, voices talking... it’s all so chaotic... So tired... I can’t sleep. The moment I close my eyes, there are sounds everywhere. Things like ants... crawling inside the walls, crawling everywhere, inside my veins... but I can’t find them.”
He laughed without emotion as he scratched at his arms and neck, tearing his skin open until blood seeped out. His thick blood clung to his fingertips, and it was strangely sweet. He tentatively licked it, and instantly seemed to fall into a daze, gnawing on his fingers, unable to stop even as blood dripped everywhere.
The captain’s expression grew grim, like he was facing a great threat. He grabbed Herbert’s arm and checked it. “Where’s the meds? You didn’t take your injection?!”
At his feet, there was only a bulging backpack. But when he pulled it open, it was filled with nothing but used syringes. A month’s supply of suppressants had already been completely used up. There was nothing left.
“I did... I took them all... all of them... but it didn’t work, Captain. The sound... it’s getting louder, it’s inside my head.”
Herbert convulsed, slamming into the wall again and again, yet the smile on his face grew more twisted and empty. Thick crimson slowly crept into his eyes.
“No matter what... I can’t kill them all... heh, heh heh... as long as I kill them all, it’ll be quiet... it’ll be quiet...”
His scattered, hollow pupils regained their focus within the blood-red haze. A savage glint surfaced, and bloody tears slowly slid down from the corners of his eyes.
“I found it.”
As reason collapsed, something insane was born from the shattered remnants of his soul.
***
When Mr. Zhang kicked the door open and broke through the illusion set up by the Mirror Chosen One, what he saw was nothing but devastation. Severed limbs and shattered bodies were scattered everywhere, while torn organs clung to the walls.
The walls, floor, ceiling were riddled with holes. The whole place had been destroyed.
A scarred head slowly rolled to his feet. Even after being torn off, traces of its former expression still lingered: pain, anger, sorrow, and a hint of numbness. The look on its face was too complex and blurred by death, impossible to distinguish clearly anymore.
Only faint, intermittent breathing echoed from an empty corner.
“Come out here!”
Mr. Zhang reached out. A gale surged, and lightning burst forth. Because of the shockwave, the illusion collapsed completely. What remained was a blood-soaked figure with a gaping hole torn open in his chest, barely clinging to life.
“Help... help...” Seeing someone rush in, he no longer cared about his identity or whatever judgment might come. He begged with everything he had left. “Save me...”
Mr. Zhang remained indifferent. He silently surveyed the surroundings, stepping through the pool of blood as he approached, looking down. His hand lifted but did not extend. Between his fingers, a strand of pure vitality glowed faintly, coiling and illuminating the man’s despairing eyes.
“Tell me what happened.”
“It was Herbert, that lunatic Herbert!” the survivor said in a frantic jumble, overjoyed. “He’s gone mad, completely mad! He lost control! The injections don’t work anymore...”
Mr. Zhang turned his head in shock, looking toward An Ran. Both their expressions darkened. The worst-case scenario, corruption, had occurred.
A Chosen One had undergone corruption and lost control, and he was from one of the most lethal paths—the Swarm Path.
Mr. Zhang grabbed the survivor by the throat, forcefully sustaining his last breath as he pressed him. “Where did he go?! When did he leave?! Speak!”
“Just now, he just left, only a few minutes ago, through the back window. I don’t know, I really don’t know anymore!”
The survivor wailed and begged, no longer showing any of the earlier brutality from the bar massacre. “Save me, save me, please!”
But Mr. Zhang made no move, only asking one final question, “Who was your employer?”
A shrill cry erupted within the room. From the writhing shadows, a hand appeared without warning, extending toward them. In its grip was a faint, almost invisible dagger, thrusting straight at the survivor in Mr. Zhang’s grasp.
Bang!
The fastest to react was An Ran. The moment he sensed the attacker, he didn’t hesitate at all. He turned, moving at incredible speed. In an instant, he vanished from his spot, chasing after the trail Herbert had left behind, completely unconcerned with Mr. Zhang’s safety. Or rather, from the bottom of his heart, he didn’t believe that Mr. Zhang could possibly be hurt.
The blade struck that seemingly ordinary, withered old hand. Loose skin covered the dried, bony structure, with veins clearly visible on the back of the hand. Such a decayed palm, yet the moment it met the blade, it shone with a brilliance like gold.
Sparks burst, and the blade failed to do any damage. But a streak of green spread from where the edge touched the skin...
It was laced with poison!
Mr. Zhang forced the spreading discoloration back into a single line. It dripped from his fingertip, sizzling as it fell. He glanced at the faint silhouette hidden in the shadows and smiled. “Trying to silence the witness? A bit late for that, isn’t it?”
“Old man, there’s no need to risk your life over a few hundred bucks. Wouldn’t it be better to just lie flat and collect your pension?”
From the shadows, the hidden Chosen One said in a hoarse voice, “If it’s unnecessary, I don’t want to fight with people from the Security Bureau. Just let him go, and we can pretend nothing happened. Wouldn’t that be better?”
Mr. Zhang stared at the Chosen One for a long moment, then slowly nodded.
“So it’s the Wasteland Assembly again... To be honest, I’m not interested in the infighting you guys from the White Deer Path have going on, and I don’t want kids to get dragged into it either. They’re all good kids, really good kids. They should have their own futures and not be pulled into this mess caused by scumbags biting each other like dogs. So it isn’t really a big deal to leave this guy to you. No need to be so tense. It’s nothing serious.”
With that, he casually tossed the despairing survivor onto the ground between them, showing no concern at all. Even the Chosen One who had come to silence them froze in place. He hadn’t expected the Security Bureau to be this easy to persuade.
“But I do need a favor,” the old man said.
Lowering his gaze, he looked at the wrinkles on his palm, at the remaining blood there, and let out a faint sigh. He had spent his entire life in the Security Bureau, fighting hard battles. So how had he ended up, in his old age, becoming more and more worn down instead?
Back when he was in his thirties or forties and still working with the first director, everyone had been so full of spirit. It felt like the whole world was waiting for them to change it.
But everyone had grown old in the blink of an eye. Some had died, while some had retired. He was the only one left, a lucky old man who had survived the longest, clocking in and out of work every day, year after year. He was unwilling to continue, yet unwilling to leave, just enduring endlessly with no end in sight. His ambition had long since faded, leaving only the wait for death.
The world had turned into this damn mess, so much so that even something like the Wasteland Assembly could stir up chaos in Cliff City, and even lowlifes like these rats dared to swagger in front of him, acting so self-important.
Ridiculous.
If the old director were still alive and saw this, he would probably laugh so hard he’d double over. Too bad he had died long ago.
The old man stared at the dim, yellowed light outside the window and said, “I’m in a bad mood. I want to let off some steam. So, just don’t let him die too quickly.”
BOOM!!!
Before the Chosen One could reply, before any change of expression or questioning, even before he could fully react, the shadows shook frantically, and the unstable figure seemingly froze in place, engulfed by an erupting surge of fury like a volcanic eruption. Even his consciousness seemed to blank out for a moment.
What... What happened? What just... happened? What is wrong with me?
In the midst of unprecedented, searing pain, the man lying amid rubble and debris finally regained a shred of awareness. He couldn’t lift his arms nor his legs; his body was riddled with holes, like a worn-down rag doll. It felt like someone had thrown a punch at him.
And then, he lost his memories.
Why is this place like this? Where was I before this? No, who am I?
He couldn’t remember, and none of his memories came back. All he could feel was an unprecedented fear and despair.
“Good. As expected of a White Deer Chosen One.”
From a distant place, a voice echoed through the dozens of broken walls he had been smashed through. Amid the drifting dust, an unfamiliar face emerged. As if in approval, that person nodded slightly.
“You’ve got a tough life[1].”
But that face was no longer made of ordinary flesh. Instead, it gleamed with a golden radiance surpassing metal itself, solemn and divine, like a Buddha or a god.
Using blessings at the Metamorphosis Realm—Iron Bones, Copper Heart, and Divine Qi—as a foundation, the blessings were fully integrated and mastered. Then, the body had been tempered over decades, even centuries, at the Rebirth Realm. Not a single day had been wasted, nor had there been a moment of negligence. His body had been refined again and again, over and over again until what was ultimately achieved was something shocking enough to shake the world: Indestructible Golden Body!
Tracing back to its origins and reversing time itself, it re-emerged from the ignorant age of mortal iron, revealing once more the legendary form of “golden humanity.”
To call it evolution would be inaccurate. To call it regression would be too dismissive. This was the radiance revealed when human essence and one’s bloodline evolved into its ultimate form.
“Don’t worry. We can play for a long time.”
In a single step, he crossed hundreds of meters. The old man now stood right before him. He looked down at the terrified Chosen One and grinned.
“Hopefully you won’t die too quickly.”
On that indestructible iron fist, a torrent of life force surged like a waterfall. Mercy and destruction were compressed together within five fingers. And then, the fist came crashing down on that frozen face.
BOOM!!!!
1. “命硬” (literally “tough fate/life”) is a Chinese term meaning a “tough or unyielding life destiny.”
In folklore and everyday speech, it’s used in two opposite senses. One refers to someone whose birth chart is believed to “clash” with close relatives, meaning their presence may bring misfortune or even death to people around them. The other refers to someone who survives hardships and disasters with remarkable resilience, someone who is extremely hard to bring down. ☜
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