In the City of Evil, inside the police department, Tianlang, Mo Yan, Zhao Heng, and Kailin waited quietly outside the rest room.
The air was heavy with tension. None of them spoke, their faces clouded with concern. Even Clorinde, standing silently nearby, seemed weighed down by the mood.
Soon, the door creaked open, and Zixuan stepped out from within.
"How is he? Is Yaohui alright?" Tianlang immediately rushed to her, his voice urgent.
Zixuan raised a finger to her lips, gesturing for quiet. She closed the door softly behind her, then said, "Don't worry. He's just exhausted. Nothing serious. I've already treated his wounds. With rest, I'm confident he'll be back to his usual self by tomorrow."
"I see… That's a relief." Tianlang exhaled deeply, his body visibly relaxing. Then he scratched his head sheepishly, "I was worried I hit him too hard back there… What if he never woke up?"
"Relax. If Zixuan says he's okay, he'll be fine," Kailin said with a chuckle. "Still, you really don't hold back when you're mad, do you?"
"I was caught up in the moment!" Tianlang mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
Clorinde stepped forward, offering them a rare smile. "On behalf of Lord Evilbane, I thank you all for what you've done today for the Black Domain. Once he's awake, I'll inform him of the full story. Please, don't overexert yourselves."
Zixuan nodded. "She's right. It's late, and we've all had a long day. We should rest while we can." She stretched her arms with a yawn.
"Ugh, ever since we came here, our sleep schedule's been a complete mess," Kailin grumbled.
…
After bidding Clorinde farewell, the group exited the station. As they walked, Kailin suddenly stopped.
"Mo Yan!"
"Hm? What is it?" Mo Yan turned around.
"Well… would you take a walk with me? Just to clear my head," Kailin asked with unusually earnest eyes.
Mo Yan blinked in surprise.
"Huh? Didn't you just say—"
Before he could finish, Kailin threw on her usual young-lady attitude. "Ugh! It won't take long! Can't you just indulge me for once?"
Tianlang chuckled and turned to Zixuan and Zhao Heng. "Since she insists, why don't we head back first?"
Zixuan and Zhao Heng exchanged a glance.
"…Alright. But don't stay out too long. And watch yourselves," Zixuan advised before leaving with Tianlang and Zhao Heng.
Under the cold night sky, Mo Yan and Kailin strolled through the quiet streets. The chill in the air seeped down their backs. With no one speaking, Mo Yan found the silence oddly bitter.
"So?" he finally said, stopping and turning toward her. "You went through all that trouble to keep me here, and now you're quiet. That's not like you."
Kailin stepped lightly, lowering her voice. "…About earlier. In the Wolf Ravine. Thank you."
Seriously? All this for that?
Mo Yan gave a small cough, brushing it off. "Don't mention it. We're teammates. Helping each other is only natural."
He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "But you… usually you're all fire and brimstone. Why'd you freeze up the second you saw blood?"
Kailin looked down guiltily.
"You're right," she admitted. "Since arriving here, I've acted like it was just another game, doing whatever I wanted. But I forgot that this place… this place is real."
She looked up at the moon.
"In the game, I used to race cars through the streets, crash into players without a second thought. There were no traffic laws, and even if I ran someone over, I didn't care. But today… when I saw blood at my feet… that's when it hit me."
"This world may not be the one we're from, but it plays by the same rules. It's another form of reality. And the moment I realized I had killed someone… I just…"
Mo Yan sighed deeply. He placed a hand on his hip and said calmly, "You don't need to dwell on it. The world isn't fair. There will always be those who try to take from you by force. If you do nothing, you'll just end up broken. Like today—if you hadn't struck back, you would've been the one lying in a pool of blood."
His words seemed to bring a bit of relief. Kailin smiled gently.
"You're really good at the whole 'philosopher' thing, huh? Hold on… the way you're talking… does that mean you've actually…?"
"…What?"
Kailin stopped mid-sentence, but Mo Yan feigned ignorance.
"Don't play dumb!" she said, puffing up. "I mean that! You know what I'm talking about!"
Mo Yan sighed again, clearly reluctant.
"You really want to know? It's not going to help you in any way."
"That just makes me more curious," she insisted. "You said we're teammates, didn't you? What's wrong with sharing some of the crap we've been through?"
Her persistence left Mo Yan with no choice. He finally relented with a quiet sigh.
"…Fine. It happened six years ago. But to really understand why, I need to go back further."
When he was nine, his father died in a construction accident. From that point on, it was just him and his mother, scraping by. She pinned all her hopes on him and constantly pushed him to succeed.
One day, after he got into a fight with some classmates who had been mocking him, he expected sympathy. Instead, his mother scolded him and said the same thing many parents say:
"Don't hang around bad kids."
That line crushed him.
After that, whenever he was harassed again, he kept his head down. But yielding only made things worse. The beatings escalated. The insults turned crueler. And every time he told his mother, she'd just repeat:
"Don't get involved with those people."
Later, he told a teacher. The bullies were punished—but it only led to worse retaliation.
Eventually, he grew harder. After school, when cornered again, he started fighting back. He didn't hesitate anymore.
And when his mother asked about his bruises, he always gave the same excuse:
"I tripped."
When he entered middle school, he thought things would improve.
But they didn't. The bullying worsened. Now it wasn't just fists and words—they extorted him. If he resisted, they'd ambush him outside the school gates.
He barely had any allowance. But two-thirds of it went to his "protection fee." His poor family could barely keep up. When his mother questioned him, he spun more lies.
Eventually, he had nothing left to give.
They gave him a deadline: bring the money, or don't bother showing up alive.
That night, he told his mother he was feeling sick, hoping to stay home. She didn't believe him. She called him lazy and screamed at him.
That was the moment he lost all hope.
He snuck into the shed that night and pulled a hammer from his late father's toolbox, slipping it into his bag.
The next day, when the bullies dragged him into the alley behind school and demanded their money—
BANG. BANG. BANG.
At this point in his story, Mo Yan's expression twisted into something dark—twisted, almost smiling.
"You have no idea how pathetic they looked," he said.
"They begged me for mercy. And I just stood there… hammer in hand… swing after swing, until their skulls cracked and their limbs were broken."
"That moment… was blissful. Even when teachers and students gathered around, I never let go of the hammer—not once."
~~------------------------
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