Chapter 506 | Chapter 507 | Chapter 508 | Chapter 509 | Chapter 510
Chapter 506: Substitution
Back when Guo Sheng was still around, everyone had been discussing how to divide the spoils. Now, being stared at with eyes full of disgust, a sense of morality—long since lost—started to stir within them again.
“We just wanted to survive better. Besides, those ability users were the ones who tried to attack us first. We only captured them in self-defense…”
A man hiding behind the others hurried to defend himself, but under the cold, sharp gazes directed at him, his voice grew softer and softer until it faded completely.
Surprisingly, a rugged man standing near the back spoke up calmly and logically.
“I know you all think what we did was wrong, but our village is small. At first, there were zombie attacks. Then mutated animals started coming too. People were getting hurt every day—we lacked medicine, and the dead were too many to count.”
“To us, the meat of high-level ability users was like medicine. Eating it helped people live better. If you were in our place, would you not eat it too?”
“All we wanted was to survive. Is that so wrong? It’s just survival of the fittest,” he even smiled at Li Zhuang and the others, “The world is what’s wrong—not us.”
His words made everyone clench their teeth, but they had no rebuttal. In today’s world… is cannibalism even a crime?
It wasn’t.
They had a moral bottom line—but they had no right to condemn those who didn’t.
“You’re right. Survival of the fittest,” Li Zhuang suddenly said, looking at him. “And now you’re the weak ones.”
So now you are the ones being eaten.
The man’s face changed for a moment. His eyes involuntarily darted to the back of the cabin where Jindiao was, and he unconsciously took a small step back. Only then did they notice he was shielding a young woman behind him—fair-skinned, thin, sickly all over.
“I want to know more about Guo Sheng,” Li Zhuang said.
“We’re dead either way. Why should we tell you anything?” The man sneered defiantly, smiling broadly from one side of his mouth.
“I can let you choose how you die,” Li Zhuang said casually, glancing at the man’s arm, from which a layer of skin had already been sliced off.
The man’s face darkened, and the rest immediately started shouting over each other, eager to speak first.
“I’ll tell you! I was involved in a lot of what Guo Sheng did! I—”
“Ask me instead. Guo Sheng’s lover, Nan Qi, was my older sister. I know more than anyone,” the woman the man had been protecting suddenly spoke up, peeking out from behind him.
“Nan Xiaomei!” the man turned to her in shock, the large and strong man now looking aggrieved.
Nan Xiaomei ignored him and looked at Li Zhuang’s group. “Cangcuo and Gu Fei never ate human meat. Could you let the two of them go?”
“I did! I ate a lot of ability user meat!” the man shouted, but when he saw Nan Xiaomei’s fragile body sway, his voice immediately dropped. He pulled her onto his lap and repeated, “I ate human meat.”
“I know you didn’t. You said from the start eating human flesh could transmit prion disease and wouldn’t let us touch it,” Nan Xiaomei gently stroked his spiky hair.
“I ate it,” Cangcuo only repeated this, burying his face into Nan Xiaomei’s shoulder.
Nan Xiaomei turned back to look at Li Zhuang, wordlessly asking for mercy. She also added weight to her offer,
“Guo Sheng treated my sister very well, and because of that, we learned things no one else did. I was also the one who looked after Gu Fei, so I know a lot of things others wouldn’t.”
Li Zhuang didn’t make the call—after all, Gu Fei’s father was responsible for the deaths of their people. Jindiao and the others might not let it go, especially since this towering man had admitted he was Guo Sheng’s blade.
“We’ll have to wait until our base commander is rescued before we can decide.”
Nan Xiaomei paused for a moment, realizing they had no choice. She began revealing details that hadn’t been uncovered in previous interrogations.
Nan Qi, Liu Jing, and Guo Sheng returned to Changshou Village in the spring of the second year of the apocalypse. Several surrounding villages had banded together but couldn’t fend off zombies and mutant beasts, so they hid early on in the interconnected caves nearby.
Using the vast cave system for ambushes, they managed to protect their lives despite food shortages.
After Guo Sheng’s group returned and cleared the surrounding area, they had a relatively peaceful period. Guo Sheng’s powers were strong at the time, but he couldn’t keep up with the pace of mutant beast evolution. That’s when he started eyeing the ability users in the village and began plotting to kill them one by one.
With the help of mutated plants, no one noticed anything strange. Guo Sheng was responsible for growing all the village’s food, so his reputation was very good.
That was until Liu Jing discovered the truth—Guo Sheng killed him, but Liu Jing’s consciousness took over his body and revealed everything to Nan Qi. Nan Qi, enraged, confronted Guo Sheng and was killed when his mind spiraled into chaos.
“What do you mean by ‘mind spiraled into chaos’?” Li Zhuang asked. He hadn’t been present when Guo Sheng was rambling nonsense, but he’d heard Ning Yuan call him a lunatic.
“He absorbed a lot of ability users’ crystal cores. Those cores seem to retain parts of their consciousness. When his guard was down or he was distracted, those consciousnesses could take over his body. It was like…”
“Possession,” Cangcuo said gruffly when Nan Xiaomei struggled to find the word.
“Exactly,” Nan Xiaomei nodded. “The first time it happened was when Liu Jing possessed his body. After that, it started happening more frequently. Especially after he killed my sister, his mind almost completely collapsed. He would mutter nonsense all day long—dozens of different people were arguing through his mouth, some of them people we recognized.”
“How did he recover?”
“Xiao Fei saw him kill my sister. I told him to lie low and take revenge later, but he didn’t listen. He attacked when Guo Sheng’s mind was unstable—and the consciousnesses in him nearly killed Xiao Fei.”
“Then Xiao Fei pretended to submit. He called him ‘Dad’ for the first time, and that jolted Guo Sheng’s own consciousness back.”
“Do you know if SSS-level Gu Sheng has any special abilities?”
This was the question Li Zhuang truly cared about.
Nan Xiaome lowered her gaze in thought. Cangcuo, beside her, answered,
“He can walk through the air and even has an invisible servant. That servant is capable of attacking and usually takes care of Xiao Fei for him.”
“Yes,” Nan Xiaome added. “One time, Xiao Fei was chased by a mutated leopard. Right before it got to him, something killed it. A very strong leopard—dead in an instant.”
This ability was the reason that even after people in the village learned Gu Sheng had killed those ability users, no one dared to speak out.
It was likely the energy mass they’d seen earlier on the scanner.
Li Zhuang went over everything they’d said in his mind, and after confirming the details, concluded that what was happening now probably had nothing to do with Gu Sheng.
That left only one explanation: Lu Weiyi’s upgrade had triggered it.
Lu Weiyi had always been the fastest to level up among them, usually calm and in control. But this time, something was clearly weighing on him. Li Zhuang didn’t understand the intricacies of psychic-type evolutions, and now that Lu Xi—his own disciple—was also trapped inside, no one else had any clue either. He was completely in the dark.
“I’ve told you everything I know,” Nan Xiaome said, clearly unwell. Just from speaking that little, she was already out of breath. “Can you let them go?”
“I’m not leaving,” Cangcuo said immediately.
“Xiaome, I’m not going,” he repeated with emotion, tears in his eyes.
“Acuo, I won’t live much longer. Xiao Fei is still a child. You have to take care of him for me,” Nan Xiaome said gently.
“He’s the one who brought those ability users back to be butchered and eaten. Gu Sheng’s lapdog—Gu Sheng pointed, and he killed,” a man suddenly shouted.
“Uncle Luo! When you were being chased by zombies, it was Acuo who saved your life!” Nan Xiaome shouted back sharply.
The man who spoke was the same one whose flesh the Jin Diao had just sliced off. He clutched his still-bleeding wound, then turned his face away.
“But those killed ability users… Cangcuo buried them all. Buried them in Xiaohua’s soil. The roots turned red with blood… all him…”
Nan Xiaome looked toward the others, hoping someone might say a kind word for Cangcuo and spare his life—but all of them avoided her gaze.
“Sister Qing, your child was carried away by rats at night—it was Acuo who went into the forest to bring him back. Uncle Thirteen was trapped under a collapsed house—it was Acuo who dug him out. Xiao Qiang was nearly beaten to death for stealing food—Acuo gave his food to you and went hungry himself…”
Nan Xiaome’s voice choked with grief as she looked at the few who survived. “He didn’t eat human flesh—why can’t he be allowed to live!”
No one said a word. Cangcuo only held Nan Xiaome tighter and repeated,
“I’m not leaving.”
“Acuo… I can’t go on anymore…” Nan Xiaome sobbed uncontrollably.
Cangcuo gently kissed her forehead. “Xiaome, are you blaming me?”
“Blaming me for feeding you human flesh?”
Nan Xiaome kept shaking her head.
She was actually the first person in the village to eat an ability user’s flesh. The one whose health improved dramatically.
She’d been sickly since birth, born with a congenital illness. Doctors said she wouldn’t live past twenty-five. After the apocalypse, her condition worsened daily.
When Gu Sheng casually mentioned that ability user flesh had great restorative effects, it was Cangcuo who first wavered—and who soon became Gu Sheng’s accomplice in hunting them down.
Especially after seeing Nan Xiaome’s health visibly improve, Cangcuo became Gu Sheng’s blade, tirelessly tracking down high-level ability users.
She’d seen this warmhearted man spend sleepless nights consumed with guilt. She’d seen him secretly set up graves for the dead, burn incense, bow and apologize again and again.
Yet when it came to her, he never hesitated to pick up the knife.
“It’s my fault… I dragged you into this…” Nan Xiaome sobbed, inconsolable.
Cangcuo stroked her back to calm her, then looked up at Li Zhuang.
“They’re right. I did all those things. If you want to kill or flay me, I won’t argue.”
“But…”
He looked down at the woman in his arms, voice gentle despite his broken body.
“I’ll take her punishment for her.”
With that, he grabbed a curved blade tossed aside by the Jin Diao and sliced down his own arm—
Chapter 507: Divergent Hearts
He didn’t chop it off, but rather sliced along the length of his arm from shoulder to wrist, stripping off an entire layer of flesh.
“Acuo—!” Nan Xiaome cried out, but Cangcuo pinned her tightly to his chest, unable to move.
His teeth clenched so hard they creaked, his entire body trembled.
“Is… this enough?”
Then he turned and sliced the other side the same way.
Chunks of bloody flesh fell to the ground. Nan Xiaome cried in anguish and passed out.
When no one said anything, Cangcuo moved to repeat it on the next side, but was stopped by Ai Ping’s outstretched hand.
“I respect you as a man,” Ai Ping said. “No matter what the higher-ups decide, I promise no one will torture your wife.”
“I… want to be buried with her…”
Cangcuo ignored the blood gushing from his nearly fleshless arms, eyes still gentle as he looked down at the woman in his embrace.
Everyone stood frozen in shock.
Li Zhuang wasn’t one of the victims—he couldn’t make this decision on their behalf.
He turned to leave.
Just then, their team’s junior healer suddenly stepped forward and placed a hand on Cangcuo’s arm. Before their eyes, the wound visibly closed.
Not healed with new muscle and veins—just sealed enough to stop the bleeding.
Dean’s eyes were red as he met the gaze of his teammates and choked out, “Davis killed his rival’s entire family to get my father’s approval to be with me.”
Saving Cangcuo was an act of empathy—not healing him fully was an act of respect for the victims.
“You’re not a good person,” Dean said as he stood up to follow Li Zhuang. “But you’re a good lover.”
“Just like mine.”
He looked firmly at Li Zhuang. “I’m going to save my lover.”
Lu Xiao, who had been briefed in advance about what had happened, immediately noticed something was off with Jin Diao’s mental state as soon as he contacted him. Sensing danger, he decided to have them return as soon as possible.
As for Lu Weiyi’s situation, there was absolutely nothing he could help with. On the other hand, Zhuang Mingxu, after hearing about it, seemed thoughtful and suggested that Li Zhuang provide more information.
“Gather a small squad. Approach with caution and investigate the situation, maintain communication at all times,” Li Zhuang ordered, selecting a team led by Xing Zhou from the people they had brought.
Xing Zhou was a psychic-type ability user—more sensitive to similar powers than others—and might be able to detect more useful information.
Xing Zhou led Du Ping, Bai Mei, Ye Jia, Yu Mengchu, He Song, and Dean—a group of six with S-rank abilities representing the five elements (metal, wood, water, fire, earth) plus a healer. With the help of a helicopter, they were lowered directly near the area.
In the helicopter above, Li Zhuang, along with Eric, Qin Yu, Gao Yang, Liu Rui, and others, observed them being slowly lowered. Then—
They stood still, completely motionless.
“What’s going on?” Gao Yang frowned and handed his binoculars to Li Zhuang.
Li Zhuang examined their varied expressions and suddenly recalled how Lu Weiyi had once controlled Xu Sa during a mission a long time ago.
“Can your ability control others’ minds?” he turned and asked Eric, the highest-ranked psychic among them.
Eric raised an eyebrow, as if surprised by the idea, then shook his head at Li Zhuang.
“Pull them back,” Li Zhuang ordered.
Moments later, the six were hoisted back into the helicopter. All seven—including the original team—were unconscious, eyes closed, wearing a range of expressions.
Dean was clearly overjoyed, a childlike smile on his face as if dreaming happily. Du Ping’s expression was stern, brows furrowed. Ye Jia’s face and even earlobes were flushed like a lovestruck youth. Bai Mei had a faint smile and was subconsciously stroking her belly like a pregnant woman. He Song had a blank face but appeared completely relaxed. And Yu Mengchu…
She suddenly burst out laughing, hearty but awkward.
Li Zhuang swept his gaze over the “elite” squad who had been defeated within two minutes of deployment, then looked toward the immobile Lu Weiyi in the distance, feeling at a loss.
“They’ve been… hypnotized,” Eric said, fascinated by their states and ready to probe them with his psychic power.
Li Zhuang, sensing the fluctuation of Eric’s energy, immediately stopped him. “We don’t know what’s really going on. Don’t attempt anything.”
Eric shrugged and retracted his psychic probe, though his eyes remained locked on the group.
“Is it like Inception?” Qin Yu leaned closer curiously, poking Xing Zhou’s cheek. “They get lost in their dreams and can’t come out?”
To everyone’s shock, the frowning Xing Zhou suddenly grabbed Qin Yu’s hand tightly—painfully so.
“Shit,” Qin Yu tried to pull away but couldn’t, her fair wrist quickly turning red.
Xing Zhou still wouldn’t let go.
“Xing Zhou! Xing Zhou!” Li Zhuang shouted twice.
Xing Zhou’s face was contorted with pain. Eric raised an eyebrow. “His psychic fluctuations are off the charts.”
Unable to find a solution, Li Zhuang ordered, “Return to base.”
In just twenty minutes, the squad returned, bringing back seven unconscious people. The atmosphere among the larger team immediately became tense and strange.
Li Zhuang had psychic users examine the affected team while he contacted Zhuang Mingxu, urgently seeking a solution.
[Send them back!]
Zhuang Mingxu finally replied with this message.
[What about the rest of us?]
They had likely already defeated the SSS-ranked ability user, yet now their captain had a serious issue. The crisis at their base wasn’t resolved, and now several of their top S-rank combat ability users were incapacitated—a major loss.
[Pull back half. Station the rest nearby—treat it as a temporary base. I’ll send reinforcements.]
[Also, send some people to the Capital Base. I’ve contacted the security team to accept a wood-type user who can use their mutated plant to help rescue the others.]
Zhuang Mingxu had guessed the truth as soon as he heard about it. Lu Weiyi had never hidden his psychic abilities from him. In fact, many of Lu’s newly developed abilities were based on Zhuang Mingxu’s own conceptual designs.
Just as Li Zhuang was assigning new tasks to those staying behind, Chen Xing quietly approached, asking when they would return to base.
“There will be official arrangements from HQ,” Li Zhuang replied, scrutinizing him.
The Zhongliang Team was one of the earliest to arrive at Half Moon Bay. At the time, they were mostly ordinary people relying on Chen Xing, a fire-type ability user, to survive. Back then, there weren’t many power-user teams, the base was peaceful, and life was relatively good.
Chen Xing, unlike his father Chen Xiangshan, was not sociable and rarely spoke to other teams—so many assumed they had poor relations with base leadership. Especially once stronger teams like Frost Society and the Peace Squad emerged, Zhongliang, despite its name as one of the base’s top three, remained low-key and invisible.
But a team made up mostly of regular people producing an S-ranked fire user? That couldn’t be pure coincidence.
“Something up?” Li Zhuang asked.
“Someone’s been secretly contacting members of several squads.”
Li Zhuang’s eyes narrowed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Who?”
“Pinnacle and Glory,” Chen Xing replied. “They’re two small squads of a few thousand each—C-rank in the Ability User Guild. Word is they’re here to earn contribution points from this mission so they can upgrade to B-rank.”
“Yesterday they were in contact with Shengshi, and just now someone came to find me.”
As for what they might have said, it was nothing more than two options: either join forces with members from other bases to seize control of Half Moon Bay, or collaborate from within to support replacing its leadership with someone more favorable.
“You weren’t tempted?” Li Zhuang joked half-seriously.
Chen Xing pulled a cigarette from the box on Li Zhuang’s desk and held it between his lips with practiced ease. “I’m afraid of dying,” he said bluntly.
Li Zhuang laughed for a while, then nodded and quietly sent him off.
That same afternoon, Gao Yang also confided the same thing to Li Zhuang while out on a patrol together.
Li Zhuang could understand why Chen Xing had come to him — his advancement had largely been supported in secret by the base. But Gao Yang…
He was a later addition to the base, and Li Zhuang was sure the base hadn’t offered him much of anything. What could make him so… selflessly loyal?
After hearing the same words as Chen Xing, Li Zhuang asked him the same question.
“Captain Li, don’t scare me. I just want to live a stable life, not go against the base,” Gao Yang said as he took off the gold-rimmed glasses he always wore and wiped them. Only then did Li Zhuang notice — with the glasses on, he looked like the classic refined elite, but once removed, his clear eyes and soft features made him look like a college student.
“We’re a family team — all relatives. We don’t want to drag the whole group down over something like this.”
Back when the first rebellion happened at Half Moon Bay, the base executed everyone involved. Their families were driven out into the wilderness during the dead of winter. With temperatures below -30°C, out of over 15,000 people, barely any survived.
When spring came and the base reopened, scouts on missions saw corpses strewn all along the roads.
Gao Yang hadn’t been at the base at the time, but the stories had chilled him to the bone. His family had repeatedly warned him: “Never offend leaders like that.”
These were people who’d walked through mountains of corpses and oceans of blood. They carried hatred in their bones. If you were going to challenge them, you’d better make sure you crushed them completely — because if they survived and rose again, the consequences would be unimaginable.
Gao Yang had been an ordinary person before the apocalypse. He came from a large rural family without much success, but with strong internal bonds. As the eldest grandson of the main branch, he was a role model to his cousins and a pillar to his elders.
The whole clan had pooled its resources to help him develop his ability to this level — not to get him involved in political scheming, but to help them all live safely.
Chapter 508: Warning
“The base has treated me and the common folks well. This is me declaring my loyalty in advance — I hope the base will look out for us,” Gao Yang said with a smile, putting his glasses back on.
“Absolutely,” Li Zhuang said, shaking his hand.
As for whether Gao Yang was being sincere — that would be revealed with time.
“Wearing glasses is inconvenient these days. If you need, go to the base hospital. The healing-type ability users there can fix your eyesight.”
Gao Yang paused mid-step, turned back and looked at him.
“I’m not nearsighted.”
After saying that, he casually brushed his bangs aside and laughed to himself.
Li Zhuang gave a small chuckle and gestured for him to proceed.
That night, Li Zhuang finalized the deployment of who would leave and who would stay.
With seven injured people — all core members of the base — Li Zhuang had to ensure their safety. He left all the potentially problematic individuals behind and had Liu Rui, from the recovered first squad, escort the wounded back.
“I’ve confirmed with Commander Zhuang. Commander Lu had left instructions beforehand: if something like this happens, it means he’s undergoing an advancement. No one knows what may occur during an SSS-level ability user’s breakthrough. Commander Zhuang’s orders are to build a temporary base here and remain until Commander Lu succeeds.”
Everyone had expected this, so no one objected. Li Zhuang turned toward the members of the Flame Squad.
“The Major General gave us orders to stay and assist with your operations,” Li Ze said proactively.
They were all trusted close-combat personnel of the Jin Diao. Lu Weiyi could’ve easily abandoned them, but instead risked his life against an SSS-level ability user for their captain. Now, when Half Moon Bay was short-handed, they had even less reason to leave.
“Much appreciated,” Li Zhuang said politely, though his eyes paused as he glanced toward a nearby tent.
In recent days, aside from communicating with Lu Xiao, Jin Diao spent all his time either caring for Meng Huan or dealing with the captured survivors. The area was filled with frequent screams of agony.
The tent always reeked of blood. Several survivors, already wounded during previous bombings, didn’t last long under his torment.
“The Major General ordered the Captain to return. He’ll take Meng Huan and depart with your main group,” Ai Ping said quietly.
Jin Diao had fully recovered physically, but his personality had changed significantly. He never spoke of what happened during his captivity. Now, all they could do was hope Meng Huan would wake up soon — maybe he could offer clues and help guide treatment.
Li Zhuang nodded, then assigned people to keep night watch and urged everyone to rest early in preparation for tomorrow’s departure.
After the main group dispersed, just as Li Zhuang was about to check the comms station, he spotted Liu Rui standing alone in the shadows, motionless, staring in the direction of the tent.
Li Zhuang walked over and patted his shoulder. Thanks to Dean’s earlier healing, Liu Rui’s physical wounds were fully recovered, and his abilities had also stabilized.
“The base is sending more people. You can take the wounded back and rejoin us afterward.”
“O-okay,” Liu Rui said, patting his chest. He understood how serious things were at the base.
“Th-this… the animals… they’re… strong…”
He pointed in the direction of Xu Sa.
“A-attack…”
“They won’t,” Li Zhuang said, understanding his concern. “I observed from the aircraft — any creature entering that area falls under mental influence and becomes trapped in an illusion.”
As he spoke, a flicker passed through his eyes, and he smiled.
“Once you’re back, maybe you can suggest to Zhuang Mingxu that they research some kind of device to block psychic-type abilities. If we can lure high-level mutated animals close and they fall into hallucinations, we could kill them and harvest their crystal cores.”
When Lu Weiyi and the others had their incident and decided to stop here, Li Zhuang had already sent people to scout the surrounding area. They found that although there weren’t signs of wild animal overpopulation, there were indeed quite a few high-level ones.
If they could be hunted, it would definitely be a significant boost for S-rank ability users trying to level up.
Liu Rui shook his head in disapproval and grabbed Li Zhuang’s arm.
“No… not okay… they… they’re dangerous…”
“I know. We won’t try it unless it’s safe.” Li Zhuang reassured him. “Also, tell Zhuang Mingxu that I had someone try using a power disruptor. It had some effect on the area covered by psychic energy, but not much. He might be able to develop something stronger based on that.”
Their first-generation disruptors only worked on low-level ability users or mutated creatures. After they shared the design with other bases, their own base developed second and third generations, but the effects on S-rank were minimal — let alone SSS-rank like Lu Weiyi.
If it hadn’t been for dozens of psychic-type users probing with mental powers, they wouldn’t have detected anything at all.
Li Zhuang looked off into the distance in Lu Weiyi’s direction. He hadn’t expected that their base’s greatest weapon — their top blade — would turn around and cut down their own team first.
Liu Rui nodded and promised to relay the message to Zhuang Mingxu. Noticing how tired Li Zhuang looked, he motioned for him to get some rest and offered to take the night watch.
Li Zhuang knew this might be the last good sleep he’d get before the next team arrived. He didn’t argue, and after a few steps, he said quietly,
“On the way back, keep a close eye on the ones who are unconscious. Don’t let anyone suspicious near them. Once you’re back, hand them directly over to Zhuang Mingxu.”
Afraid Liu Rui didn’t understand, he explained more bluntly:
“Not every team is as trustworthy as ours. Someone might try to harm them, or there could be spies from other bases looking to take them out and weaken our forces.”
“At this stage, we need to protect those people.”
“I’ve already explained everything to the teammates coming with them. Chen Xing will assist you on the road. If anyone tries anything stupid, just detain them. We can’t tolerate instability right now.”
Liu Rui nodded firmly, assuring him he understood. Only then did Li Zhuang feel at ease and walk toward the tent.
At the entrance, he was stopped by Eric, who had been waiting.
Knowing what Eric was here for, Li Zhuang made a welcoming gesture and invited him into the tent. He went to the thick ice wall that kept the place cool, knocked it twice, and revealed two bottles of beer hidden inside.
Eric’s eyes lit up. He grabbed a bottle, bit off the cap, and took a big swig. With a satisfied sigh, he said,
“Krombacher, huh? You still have stuff like this?”
He couldn’t help but glance toward the ice wall, though Li Zhuang’s body blocked the view.
“Just two bottles. I stole them from the captain’s storage.” Li Zhuang opened one for himself and took a cool sip. Then he got straight to the point.
“I don’t trust you. I can’t let you go back with them.”
Ever since Lu Weiyi had gotten trapped below with his team, Li Zhuang had made his guard against Eric clear. Still, Eric and Qin Yu weren’t included in the return group.
Eric raised a brow, half-smiling.
“And keeping me here makes you feel better?”
“Antonio is staying here,” Li Zhuang replied casually, not answering directly. “He noticed something odd about your ability and volunteered to join your team.”
That was both a gesture of trust and a guarantee on Li Zhuang’s part — openly admitting his concerns.
Eric curled one side of his lip and said nothing.
“He really likes this team and the life we’ve built here.”
That was basically an admission that they knew Eric had been using ability user crystal cores to upgrade — and that they’d long known it was a faster way to grow stronger.
Eric gave Li Zhuang a curious look.
“You never… did that yourself?”
Li Zhuang shook his head.
“I like this life, too.” He thought of Xu Yi’s cold face during his farewell, and smiled at the memory.
Then his expression turned almost pitying.
“Besides, we’ve been using purified crystal cores for a while now.” That was the real reason they could level up so safely and quickly. After Lu Weiyi had quietly warned against using ability user cores, no one in the team touched them again.
Back then, Li Zhuang thought Lu Weiyi just had a moral issue with it. Now it seemed like he’d had foresight.
No one had expected that without any warning, Lu Weiyi would suddenly level up to SSS and go completely out of control.
Thinking of Gu Sheng’s condition, Li Zhuang looked at Eric with growing sympathy.
“And lastly — don’t touch anyone from our base. Zhuang Mingxu is the vengeful type and can be absolutely ruthless.”
Lu Weiyi wasn’t fully on Zhuang Mingxu’s side either, but 90% of the time, he’d go along — especially with things he considered unimportant.
“I’m just curious about Gu Sheng. As for your people…” Eric shrugged, looking innocent, “I have no bad intentions. We’re great partners.”
Li Zhuang didn’t respond, only warned:
“These are sensitive times. Any overstepping will be treated as hostile.”
“If you really want to know more, wait until our squad leader wakes up. There’ll be a full investigation. You can ask then.” If there was no conflict, and for Antonio’s sake, Half Moon Bay would grant Eric that favor.
With that, Li Zhuang gave a clear signal for him to leave.
Eric slowly walked toward the tent entrance. A few steps out, a wave of powerful psychic energy suddenly surged from his body. Without any real aggression, it gently pushed Li Zhuang aside.
Before he could react, the remaining beer bottles hidden in the ice wall flew toward the exit, caught up in Eric’s mental power. As Eric’s laughter rang out, he vanished — and the bottles disappeared neatly into his pockets.
Li Zhuang looked at the emptied ice compartment and the last half-bottle in his hand, then couldn’t help but curse under his breath.
Chapter 509: Illusion
In the dead of night, all was silent.
Apart from the occasional footsteps of the night watch on patrol, the only other sounds were the occasional snores coming from various tents.
Outside the tents of the seven people still unconscious, the night guards had formed an impenetrable perimeter. Half of them were psychic-type ability users, specifically arranged by Li Zhuang to guard against malicious mental interference.
Liu Rui sat on a tall tree branch, his eyes periodically scanning the distant darkness. From there came a constant buzzing—the sound of helicopter rotors—inside which sat his lover.
In the quiet, hidden corner of the camp, the corner of a tent was silently lifted. A pale-faced woman peeked out, glanced around, then retreated briefly before emerging, supporting a large, battered man as they slowly moved toward the depths of the forest.
Though the area was crawling with high-level mutated beasts and the mental power of the psychic guards was spread thin and constantly scanning, it was easy to catch the movements of two ordinary humans—especially ones as conspicuous as these.
Still, the blood-curdling screams that had come from their tent the past few nights had made the guards hesitate.
Under the faint glow of the campfire, it was clear to see the tall man’s upper body was a mess of wounds—his chest and shoulders were almost entirely flayed, with only a thin layer of flesh left over bone. A normal person would have died long ago, but though leaning heavily on the woman, he still gripped a knife tightly in one hand.
The two staggered forward step by step into the dark forest. None of the guards said a word. In the silence, they looked at each other, uncertain whether they should intervene.
As they hesitated, Ai Ping stepped out of the forest, a blade of grass in his mouth and his belt tied tight.
He stopped short when he saw them. The two froze in place.
Nan Xiaome was trembling, tears welling in her eyes as she gripped Cang Cuo tightly, trying to shield him with her body. Cang Cuo, however, pushed her back gently. Despite his bloodied body, he still held the knife ready, prepared for one last struggle.
From deep in the forest came the howls of beasts, and small animals rustled through the underbrush. The night was far from peaceful.
But entering the forest in that condition was hardly safer.
Ai Ping glanced at Cang Cuo’s nearly flayed torso, then looked away and casually said, “If you show up in front of these people again, be ready to die without a burial.”
Without waiting for a response, he walked past them like nothing had happened.
Nan Xiaome let out a long breath and lightly nudged Cang Cuo. They looked at each other and smiled faintly through their dirty faces, then stepped together into the darkness without hesitation.
Going into the forest covered in blood wasn’t safe—but with the Jin Diao set to leave the next day, and only Gu Fei still under protected isolation, they knew the Jin Diao wouldn’t leave anyone else alive. This was their last shot.
The night guards silently pretended not to see. Ai Ping casually walked into the tent that had housed the seven unconscious individuals. After a glance, he let out a low “tsk.”
Scanning the other guards, he quietly called Liu Rui over and set the entire tent ablaze—including the blood-soaked bedding and corpses. Meanwhile, he quietly dismantled the tent and went to a nearby stream to wash up.
He was still wondering how to explain all this to the Jin Diao when, to his surprise, Meng Huan—the last unconscious person—woke up at dawn. The Jin Diao’s full attention shifted to him. After hearing a quick “it’s been handled,” the Jin Diao simply nodded and accepted it.
Meng Huan was in poor condition. Dean had only managed to keep him alive in a single day of treatment before the incident occurred, and his injuries hadn’t fully healed. After waking and eating a little, he fell back asleep.
There wasn’t even time for questioning. Seeing the hour was late, Li Zhuang didn’t waste time and ordered the group to leave as soon as possible.
*
At the same time, those trapped in the illusion were each experiencing something different.
A twenty-something Ning Yuan, dressed in field fatigues, was riding a military-issued off-road motorcycle across bumpy mountain terrain. Not far away, a crowd of young faces watched with excitement, cupping their hands around their mouths and shouting in encouragement.
Several four-wheelers occasionally sped toward him. Amid cheers and gasps from the crowd, Ning Yuan’s bike leapt off a slope, soaring through the air and landing just ahead of the four-wheelers.
“Wahoo!” he shouted with laughter, the wind whipping dust into the air as his youthful spirit burned bright.
Suddenly, he hit the brakes hard—coming to a halt just inches from Zhuang Mingxu’s legs, startling the onlookers into gasps.
Zhuang Mingxu, with a buzz cut and aviator sunglasses, casually chewed on a blade of grass. He looked sideways at Ning Yuan with no sign of fear, making the latter sigh in disappointment.
“You’re just begging for a beating,” Wu Yue scoffed, then turned to the group. “That was a demonstration. Now everyone go pair up with the vehicle you want to learn. You have three days to master them all.”
“Yes, sir!” The young men and women looked toward the vehicles with blazing eyes. No one could resist the thrill of powerful machines. They were practically vibrating with excitement, urging Wu Yue to begin.
He smiled helplessly. “Alright—dismissed!”
“Yes, sir!” they echoed, scattering toward their chosen vehicles and instructors.
Zhuang Mingxu glanced around at everyone, then called toward a man lounging in a rattan chair not far away, legs crossed and eyes half-shut.
“Qin Jin, the off-road team’s short on hands. Go help out.”
Qin Jin yawned and lazily stood up. “Why don’t you get in there yourself?”
Zhuang Mingxu crossed his arms. “Why use a butcher’s knife to kill a chicken?”
“Tch. Just look at his eager face. Does that look like someone who doesn’t want to go?” Ning Yuan, who had come over to drink water, exposed him without hesitation. He met Qin Jin’s gossip-laden gaze and lowered his voice with a grin, “Last time he went home on leave, the kid at Hei’s place didn’t recognize him.”
Zhuang Mingxu’s face turned black. He shot a cold glare at Ning Yuan, who immediately clutched his water bottle and backed off a few steps to increase the distance between them.
Qin Jin chuckled and walked over. “Heard you’ve been in touch with Lone Wolf?”
Zhuang Mingxu looked up at him. “How did you know?”
“Someone’s been going crazy trying to find him. And higher-ups… are monitoring his movements,” Qin Jin said.
Zhuang Mingxu’s expression darkened, and he cursed under his breath, “Never ends, does it.”
“He’s been a soldier for years. After retiring and returning to his hometown, he should’ve been able to get assigned to a decent job, right?” Ning Yuan, who had worked with Lone Wolf before, clearly admired him.
Zhuang Mingxu snorted, as if recalling some intel, but didn’t answer. “I’ve already had someone find him. Things aren’t good at Xiao Yi’s house lately, so I asked Lone Wolf to be a personal bodyguard and look after him.”
“I heard… he doesn’t speak?” Qin Jin asked tentatively when Zhuang Mingxu stayed silent. “I had a classmate who’s a psychology expert. I can recommend him. Have Lone Wolf’s family take him for an evaluation. These kinds of issues can be complicated.”
“Thanks,” Zhuang Mingxu replied, then turned to look at Ning Yuan, who had paused training to eavesdrop. He rolled up his sleeves as if ready to go teach him a lesson.
Ning Yuan immediately bolted, so fast that the trainees nearby burst out laughing.
“Little punks, laugh again and I’ll have Black Lion deal with you personally!” Ning Yuan yelled. Grabbing one of the young guys, he began seriously instructing him.
*
Ding-ling-ling! The classroom bell rang.
A teenage boy with strikingly handsome features already forming at a young age quietly chatted with a friend as they left the classroom.
Passing girls greeted him cheerfully, and he responded with a bright smile, his whole face lighting up.
As he reached the school gate, the stooped old security guard beamed. “Class over, Xu Tongxue?”
“Grandpa Liu,” Xu Sa greeted politely.
“Hey, your dad came to pick you up. He’s been waiting a while,” Grandpa Liu pointed to a spot where a tall, upright man stood amidst the crowd like a pine tree—distinct and eye-catching.
“Dad,” Xu Sa called out, and the two walked home together.
“What’s wrong, son? You don’t look happy. Is it because I didn’t take you to the amusement park last week?” Xu’s father had to cancel at the last minute for a mission, and now spoke with particular gentleness. “We’ll go tomorrow. I’ve taken the day off. We’ll have a blast.”
Xu Sa shook his head and sighed. “A good friend of mine had to take a leave from school. They say he’s seriously ill. I can’t get in touch with him.”
“The pretty kid with the surname Lu?” Xu’s father thought for a second and pinpointed the friend.
Xu Sa nodded. “I asked the teacher, but all they knew was that he’s been sent abroad for treatment. I don’t even know if I’ll ever see him again.”
“You will. If you both remember each other, you’ll meet again someday,” his father comforted him and even bought him a rare treat—ice cream. “Eat it secretly. Don’t let your mom find out.”
Xu Sa happily nodded and started licking the ice cream with delight.
The next day, as promised, Xu’s father took him to the amusement park.
They rode the roller coaster, the pirate ship, got drenched on the log flume ride—both of them chilled to the bone. But seeing his son’s flushed, excited face made it all worth it.
Then, they entered the dark haunted house. Not long after entering, Xu’s father’s phone rang. As he picked it up, Xu Sa felt an inexplicable fear creep over him.
Just before his father said, “I’ll be right there,” Xu Sa quietly hid.
Chapter 510: Regret
Seeing his father hang up and start searching frantically for him, Xu Sa had a strong instinct:
Don’t go out.
Don’t go out no matter what!
He watched as his father failed to find him, then rushed out of the haunted house to ask staff for help. Xu Sa quietly snuck into an abandoned storm drain. Hearing the bustling footsteps above, his father calling his mother in panic, and eventually requesting leave from his unit, Xu Sa… strangely felt a sense of relief.
Curled up in a small space, he eventually fell asleep—and had a terrifying dream.
In it, he saw a man covered by a white cloth. Someone told him: That’s your father.
“Sa-Sa…”
“Sa-Sa—!”
The tearful voice roused him. Xu Sa jerked awake, hitting his head on the wall. The air reeked of rot. Remembering everything that had happened, he realized it was now pitch dark.
Panicked, he scrambled out.
The sky had darkened. The amusement park lights twinkled dreamily. Xu Sa stood dazed for a while—until he saw a beautiful woman in a white dress running toward him, yelling his name.
She pulled him into her arms, sobbing as she hit him lightly.
“Where did you go? You’re too old to be pulling stunts like this—you scared Mom to death!”
Her eyes were swollen from crying. Her fists weren’t hard, but made Xu Sa feel wronged, and his eyes reddened too.
“…Mom—”
His voice cracked and hoarse, like it had been scraped raw. That word felt both unfamiliar and long-lost.
“Do you know how worried I was? If something happened to you, how would I live?” the woman wailed. After hitting him, she hugged him so tightly it felt like she wanted to merge him into her own body.
She loved me too.
That thought stunned Xu Sa.
Of course she did—she’s my mom.
Just as he was in a daze, Father Xu, who had been following behind, pulled the crying mother and child into his arms and gently patted them to comfort them.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I fell into a pit, and somehow I fell asleep,” Xu Sa admitted his mistake on his own. “Did I make Dad miss work?”
“It’s okay. You’re what’s most important,” Father Xu stroked his son’s hair, still filled with lingering fear.
The family of three thanked everyone who had helped them and returned home. But only a few days later, news came from the police station: the team that had taken Father Xu’s place on the mission was completely wiped out—no one survived.
When the news arrived, Mother Xu froze for a moment, then suddenly burst into tears, her face full of fear. When she looked at Xu Sa with terror in her eyes, Father Xu made the decision to resign from the police force.
With both his parents by his side, Xu Sa enjoyed a peaceful high school life. Other than occasionally missing his missing friend, who had vanished without a trace, his life went so smoothly it felt like a dream.
When the college entrance exam results came out, Xu Sa received an acceptance letter from his dream university. Proudly, he told his father, “Congratulations, Old Xu. You’re about to have a son who becomes a diplomat.”
Father Xu laughed heartily and discussed how they should celebrate. Mother Xu, standing to the side, proudly took photos to share with her friends.
Standing between his parents, Xu Sa was smiling—and before he knew it, tears silently rolled down his cheeks.
—
Amid thunderous cheers, a handsome figure stood center stage, bathed in the spotlight. He raised a hand slightly to calm the crowd, and as the screams quieted, a familiar melody began to play.
Holding the microphone, Gu Qingji softly harmonized, “You’re the daydream I can’t stop thinking about. Even at the end of the road, I still don’t want to wake up.”
His deep voice carried a faint sorrow of unspoken love, and the sweetness of that affection quietly filled the venue. His gaze casually landed on a familiar figure in the front row, and a faint smile flashed across his face, instantly causing another wave of screams.
Listening to the praise, admiration, and wild comments from those around him, Gu Qingyue awkwardly waved at the person on stage.
That proud man was someone he had raised.
He touched the property deed in his bag, its hard edge pressing into his hand—and he couldn’t hold back his smile.
They finally had a home—a home with his name on it. They no longer had to fear being kicked out in the middle of the night. No more humiliation from begging teachers for a few extra days to pay tuition because they had no money. No more pretending not to be hungry around classmates while his stomach growled. No more helpless tears hidden in corners while watching his younger brother fall ill and holding nothing but a few coins.
Thinking of those bitter days, of how hard it had been over the years, Gu Qingyue’s eyes reddened again.
As the excitement faded and people began leaving while chatting excitedly, a low-key assistant quietly approached Gu Qingyue and whispered, “Dr. Gu, Mr. Gu asked you to wait in the dressing room. After the celebration party, he’ll go home with you.”
“Thank you.” Gu Qingyue stood up and followed the assistant backstage.
Although the concert had ended, the backstage area was still bustling. Performers with heavy stage makeup came and went, the floor was a mess, and staff hurried about.
The assistant led him to the innermost room. The young man who had been jumping around on stage earlier was now slumped in a chair, exhausted, while a makeup artist was helping him remove his makeup. Upon hearing the door open, he turned his head to get up, but Gu Qingyue ruffled his hair and said, “Sit still and finish removing your makeup.”
“Okay.” Gu Qingji’s voice was a little hoarse from singing all night. Gu Qingyue took a thermos out of his bag and tested the temperature. The assistant, knowing what to do, handed him a straw.
“Open your mouth,” Gu Qingyue instructed.
Gu Qingji obediently opened his mouth, and the straw slipped in. He took a sip, and whether it was real or just psychological, the overworked hoarseness in his throat seemed to ease a bit.
“Big brother, was I awesome?” After drinking for a while, Gu Qingji asked in a tone like a child seeking praise from a parent.
“You were absolutely amazing,” Gu Qingyue replied without hesitation.
Gu Qingji’s lips curled up proudly, though he tried to hide it. But after a moment, he couldn’t help but grin wide.
His childish expression made others in the makeup room stifle laughter.
At the celebration dinner afterward, Gu Qingji was pressured into drinking a few glasses. Having avoided alcohol his whole life to protect his voice, he was already dazed after just a few. Under the protection of his manager, Gu Qingyue half-carried, half-supported him back home.
The once little boy was now taller than him, filling the bathroom space entirely. His adult physique was on full display, and he looked at Gu Qingyue with a dazed but seductive gaze.
Just as Gu Qingyue began to feel embarrassed by his own thoughts, Gu Qingji suddenly sat up and pulled him into the bathroom.
“Mm… Qingji…” Gu Qingyue cried out in surprise as he fell against him. His shirt, already soaked from helping with the bath, clung to his skin, and he could feel the burning heat from Gu Qingji’s body.
“Brother, I like you,” Gu Qingji said before Gu Qingyue could speak again, and those words rooted him in place.
“I want to be with you forever,” Gu Qingji wrapped his arms around him, looked up into his eyes, and with unmistakable affection, leaned in to kiss him.
When he didn’t resist, the kisses became bolder, and by the time Gu Qingyue came to his senses, he was already undressed, their bodies pressed close.
“Brother, I don’t want anyone else. You can’t either. Let’s stay together forever, just like when we were kids, okay?”
“In a few years, when I’ve saved enough money, we’ll move abroad to a country where we can get married.”
“We’ll have a wedding there, get our marriage certificate. If you want, we can even adopt a child. We’ll always be together, okay?”
“No one else between us, just the two of us. Don’t leave me, and I’ll never leave you.”
Gu Qingji’s eyes were wet, tinged with pleading.
Gu Qingyue knew he should resist, should say no.
It wasn’t right—they were brothers. Society’s judgment, the environment they lived in, everything told him they couldn’t live as they pleased. Not to mention Gu Qingji was a public figure. If this were exposed, it would ruin him.
But still…
A thought rose in his heart—this was how it was meant to be. They were the most important people to each other, and they only had each other.
“…Okay!” Gu Qingyue heard himself reply.
Gu Qingji’s eyes widened in disbelief, and the next second, he quickly wrapped his arms around him, pressing him down as if afraid he would change his mind, determined to solidify their relationship with action.
Gu Qingyue tolerated him far more than he had imagined. He allowed himself to be handled however Gu Qingji wanted in the bathroom.
After confirming their relationship, neither of them showed any sign of it to outsiders. Other than becoming more affectionate in private, their lives continued as usual.
Gu Qingji spent five years elevating his career to new heights. Then, at the peak of his fame, he stepped away from the spotlight and moved into a behind-the-scenes role. With the money he’d earned over the years, he left the country with Gu Qingyue.
Just like he’d said from the start, they held a wedding attended by only a few people. They held their marriage certificate in hand and smiled brightly.
*
Antonio held the sobbing child in his arms, and his usually hard heart was filled with sour emotion. He felt no pain from the wounds on his body, but the scalding tears falling on his skin from the little young master felt like they were searing into his soul.
“Don’t cry,” Antonio clumsily comforted him, leaning down to kiss the tears at the corners of his eyes.
“I’m going to find my father. He’s gone too far,” Dean struggled hard to break free from his embrace, but Antonio swiftly pulled him back.
“Don’t go. He promised me—if I complete it, he’ll agree to let us be together.” The big man smiled warmly and fondly caressed the young master’s flawless, pale hand. Compared to his own large, calloused, and scarred hands, Dean’s hands were two sizes smaller, and Antonio worried he might accidentally hurt him with even a little pressure.
“I don’t care if he agrees or not,” Dean said angrily, but there was joy hidden in his eyes. When he looked down and saw Antonio’s injuries, his heart ached again. He muttered bitterly, cursing his old father, “He obviously wanted to kill old Wilson himself but couldn’t, so he dumped this impossible task on you…”
