Just as that grotesque disruptor spat out the word “die,” filled with murderous intent, and the terrifying pressure nearly froze the entire stairwell in that instant.
Boom!!!
A deafening crash echoed from outside the apartment, and then the entire building shuddered violently.
The next moment, a lazy, irreverent voice—a touch of mischief in its tone, like an out-of-place interlude—sounded from below, piercing clearly into the ears of everyone present: …Hey, you folks upstairs—before you tear the place apart, shouldn’t you check with the owner first?
Damaging public property—how very immoral of you.
The voice paused, then continued with a teasing laugh, “Since everyone’s gathered here today, why not come down and play with me for a while? I promise it’ll be way more exciting than staying up there.”
That tone, that attitude—far too recognizable.
Almost the instant she heard it, Chu You’s taut lips relaxed just the tiniest bit.
And that sinister, twisted figure radiating endless malice, as soon as it heard Gu Qiancheng’s voice, its two scarlet eyes flickered sharply—as if weighing the situation for less than a tenth of a second.
Then, wrapped in ornate robes, its dark form spun around, melting into the shadows like a phantom.
Without hesitation, it slipped through the breach Lin Mo had made in the wall, moving so fast it left behind only a warped afterimage and a lingering trace of polluted aura.
Chu You and Lin Mo exchanged a glance; no words were needed, for mutual understanding flashed instantly between them.
The two moved almost in unison, transforming into streaks of light that shot after the strange figure, following it out through the opening.
Outside the apartment, ominous clouds loomed overhead, the light dim and the atmosphere stifling.
Gu Qiancheng was standing smack in the center of the open space below, hands tucked lazily in his pockets, his demeanor as relaxed as if he were out for a picnic.
Yet, with him as the epicenter, the solid concrete ground radiated out with enormous, web-like cracks stretching dozens of meters—like the place had been struck by a meteorite.
And beneath his foot, pinned without the slightest deviation, was a man—Xu Guangming, who had been thrown out just moments ago, now barely hanging on, the black veins over his body already much dimmer.
Not just Xu Guangming.
By the flowerbed not far away, Chen Xinyu and Lu Ran, both barely able to maintain their shifting forms, were slumped together.
“Yo, everyone came out? Seems you couldn’t wait to see me, huh~”
Gu Qiancheng looked up at Chu You and Lin Mo as they burst from the breach, and at the grotesque figure in front of him.
He broke into a dazzling, deliberately irritating grin.
“Now that we’re all here, how about I tell everyone a story?”
Gu Qiancheng’s voice echoed slowly in the oppressive air, as if recounting a tale unconnected to himself—yet heavy beyond measure.
Lin Mo and Chu You listened in silence, as if they’d already anticipated the truth Gu Qiancheng was about to reveal.
Meanwhile, that bizarre figure, the darkness surging around it, seemed to fluctuate ever so slightly with the telling.
It leaned forward, its scarlet eyes piercing through the shroud of black mist, staring straight at Gu Qiancheng.
“The origin of all these events began with an accident…”
Gu Qiancheng’s voice shed some of its usual mockery, growing weighty and somber.
“An accident years ago—a Shifter outbreak in Binhai.”
His gaze seemed to pierce through time and space, returning to that chaotic, desperate afternoon…
“That disaster destroyed most of the day school campus, shattered countless once-happy families, and utterly broke a man who had already lost his wife and lived only for his son.”
At this, he lowered his head slightly and gently rocked the foot pinning Xu Guangming’s back, his tone calm but unmistakably pointed: “Am I right, former Hufu 021 Research Institute, Grade One Researcher—Mr. Xu Zhiwu?”
Old Xu’s body showed almost no reaction beneath his foot, only weak, labored breaths proving he was still alive.
Confronted with a question that called his true name, he chose utter silence, as if all his strength and life had bled away with the exposure of the truth.
“If you won’t answer, whatever,” Gu Qiancheng shrugged carelessly, then slowly lifted his head, his gaze growing distant again, as though reliving the scene himself.
“I’ll go on—”
“That year, in the old school building, classmates Xia Ji and Chen Xinyu were trapped together in a classroom.”
“Outside the door, there were the bone-chilling howls and pounding of Shifters. The two little girls huddled together, crying and shouting, praying for a miracle.”
“And yet—a miracle did happen.”
Gu Qiancheng’s tone rose a touch.
“Their childhood friend, Xu Yuanzhou—who had awakened the Grade A Oracle, [Within a Span]—suddenly appeared. Using his Oracle, he managed to sneak attack and kill the Shifter blocking the door, pulling Xia Ji and Chen Xinyu back from the brink of death.”
“Xu Yuanzhou wanted to take them both and get away from that dangerous place—find somewhere safer to hide.”
“But just then, another familiar voice echoed from downstairs—Lu Ran’s cries for help.”
“A childhood companion as well, Xu Yuanzhou didn’t even hesitate… He told Xia Ji and Chen Xinyu to run ahead while he rushed downstairs to save Lu Ran.”
At this, Gu Qiancheng turned, casting a cold, disgusted glance at the cowering Lu Ran by the flowerbed.
“But Xu Yuanzhou… he was too young, too kind.He had no idea how many people in this world are rotten to the core—utterly unworthy of saving.”
“Take Lu Ran, for instance.”
Gu Qiancheng’s voice was laced with frost.
“Lu Ran’s screams for help didn’t just draw Xu Yuanzhou—they also attracted more of the wandering Aberrants nearby.”
“Xu Yuanzhou, pushing himself past his limits with the Oracle, managed to save Lu Ran, but used up so much power he couldn’t activate his Oracle for another spatial jump to escape.”
“So the two boys could only support each other, fleeing in desperation through the ever-tightening siege of Shifters, clinging to a sliver of hope.”
As Gu Qiancheng recounted this, Xu Guangming, who had been deathly still beneath his foot, suddenly began trembling uncontrollably.
A low, suppressed howl tore from his throat, filled with boundless grief and pain—like the final wail of a wounded beast.
Gu Qiancheng glanced down at him, his expression unchanged, then continued with that unique, languid yet clear cadence: “Xu Yuanzhou still tried desperately to help the wounded, flagging Lu Ran escape. But with the Shifters closing in, the shadow of death looming… Lu Ran, struggling to his feet, made a choice—”
Gu Qiancheng let out a quiet sigh, the sound heavy in the silent square.
“…A choice that completely changed everyone’s fate.”
“He made, towards Xu Yuanzhou—who risked everything to save him—a decision that was utterly unforgivable. Lu Ran shoved the completely unguarded Xu Yuanzhou straight into the advancing swarm of Shifters, and in that instant, as Xu Yuanzhou fell and drew all the attention, Lu Ran turned and ran, never once looking back.”
Gu Qiancheng’s voice was calm, but every word struck like a hammer.
“I imagine, at that moment—betrayed by his most trusted friend and torn apart by savage Shifters—Xu Yuanzhou’s heart must have broken…”
“…And so, four once-inseparable friends became three. The prodigy with limitless potential—Xu Yuanzhou, who most deserved to live—couldn’t even have his body pieced together afterwards.”
“Afterwards, the lucky survivor Lu Ran told the Law Enforcement Bureau Xu Yuanzhou died heroically saving him—covering up his betrayal perfectly.”
“But he forgot, or perhaps he was too panicked to notice—one of the school’s security cameras had clearly captured the moment he pushed Xu Yuanzhou to his doom.”
A cold arc curled at Gu Qiancheng’s lips.
“Lu Ran’s parents held considerable power in Binhai… Once they learned the truth, they didn’t make their son take responsibility. Instead, they pulled strings and used money to quickly erase that crucial footage, pressuring the officer in charge until the case was hastily closed.”
“Though every trace seemed wiped away, every time Lu Ran saw Uncle Xu—who had lost his only son, endlessly petitioning and stubbornly demanding the truth—he couldn’t suppress his fear and guilt.”
“He chose to distance himself from the withdrawn Xia Ji and to cozy up to Chen Xinyu, who’d always secretly liked Xu Yuanzhou. Over and over, he manipulated her, distorting the facts—”
“He told Chen Xinyu that Xu Yuanzhou died because of Xia Ji.”
“If Xia Ji hadn’t screamed and cried in the classroom, drawing the Shifters’ attention, maybe Xu Yuanzhou would have escaped the building safely and everything afterward would never have happened.”
“Did Chen Xinyu believe him?”
Gu Qiancheng seemed to ask himself, or perhaps the crowd.
“Maybe she did. Or maybe… she just needed an excuse.”
“An excuse to pour all her guilt and pressure onto someone else without shame. In any case, she accepted it gladly.”
“From then on, the remaining three’s relationship broke down completely.”
“Lu Ran and Chen Xinyu took all their fear, guilt, darkness, and twisted self-justifications—and dumped it all on Xia Ji, like tossing out trash.”
“They slandered her, insulted her, isolated her, even began a long, systematic campaign of psychological torment and physical bullying.”
Gu Qiancheng’s voice paused here, sweeping the crowd, before settling once more on the trembling Xu Guangming at his feet: “And during this time, a mysterious figure appeared.”
“He called himself the Professor, and first approached the key player in all this—Lu Ran.”
“He claimed there was a way for Lu Ran’s Oracle, even his body and soul, to evolve—so he could finally become the exceptional, admired figure he’d always dreamed of.”
“At first, Lu Ran didn’t believe him.”
“But then, the Professor personally showed him his miraculous power.”
“The Professor had no Oracle, but could twist a solid steel rod into a spiral with his bare hands, as easily as if it were nothing.”
“And to achieve this, all it took was a single injection of the serum he provided.”
“The lure of power is enormous. Lu Ran was tempted. He accepted the Professor’s gift and took the serum.”
“Very soon, he found his Oracle sense sharper, his control smoother, and even the power of his Oracle greatly enhanced. He quickly became recognized as a prodigy at school, basking in the praise and admiration he’d always craved.”
Lu Ran was addicted, soon taking regular injections as prescribed by the Professor, and followed his instructions to secretly recruit a second participant—Chen Xinyu.
“When Chen Xinyu was chosen as the plan’s second recruit, Lu Ran briefly doubted the Professor’s identity and motives. But the man was far too mysterious, always appearing only when needed, and always wearing a specially made mask that concealed his face completely.”
At this point, Gu Qiancheng slowly lifted his foot off Xu Guangming’s back.
He didn’t straighten up right away.
Instead, he crouched beside the prone, barely breathing Xu Guangming, tilting his head so their eyes were level.
Gone was his usual mockery.
Only a penetrating, icy calm remained.
“…Lu Ran really is scum,” Gu Qiancheng’s voice was soft but pierced the air like an icicle.
“Honestly, I barely had to try—he broke down and confessed everything, sniveling and bawling.”
He paused, his gaze like a scalpel, dissecting every twitch in Xu Guangming’s expression.
“But I bet he never guessed, not in a thousand years, that the Professor he worshiped—the one who gave him power—was in fact this seemingly ordinary, even somewhat timid teacher at the school.”
Gu Qiancheng’s tone carried a hint of sarcastic pity as he revealed the most brutal truth: “And the identity this teacher hid most deeply—was that he is actually Xu Yuanzhou’s biological father. The uncle who disappeared long ago. Isn’t that right?”
Xu Guangming, lying on the ground, convulsed violently.
Hoarse, broken sounds rasped from his throat—he couldn’t even form a complete sentence.
Only turbid tears, mixing with the blood and grime on his face, slipped silently down.
But at this moment, Gu Qiancheng slowly raised his head.
He no longer looked at Xu Guangming at his feet, nor paid attention to the two useless ones by the flowerbed, but instead fixed his gaze on the figure before him—still radiating ominous, twisted energy.
A knowing, even playfully curious smile curled at his lips, his tone like a teacher quizzing a clever student.
“Now, with the story told this far, the sharp kids among you must have noticed something’s off—haven’t you?”
At these words, the surging darkness enveloping the grotesque figure abruptly froze.
Those scarlet eyes, hidden in the mist, flickered uncontrollably, and its hand—wound with black, parasitic veins—clenched involuntarily.
The next instant, Gu Qiancheng straightened, staring unwaveringly at the twisted figure before him.
“In any story, if there’s always someone standing outside the events, then their detachment is itself a flaw.”
His voice suddenly rang out, sharp enough to pierce all disguise: “What I’m saying…”
“You wouldn’t deny it, would you?”
Gu Qiancheng leaned forward ever so slightly, as if trying to see through the dense black mist and discern the face behind it.
He spoke the name, slowly and clearly.
“Xia. Ji. Classmate!”
The moment the words left his lips, the air above the square seemed to freeze completely.
The grotesque figure jerked violently, the black mist swirling around its face boiling with turmoil, as if something beneath struggled and twisted.
Behind it, Chu You unconsciously bit her lip, a storm of emotions in her eyes.
After a brief, suffocating silence…
The black mist covering its entire face gradually dissipated, revealing the true features hidden beneath.
It was Xia Ji—her face drained of blood, black veins clinging to the left half like twisted vines, her expression apathetic, eyes burning scarlet.
Sensing something, Xia Ji slowly turned to look at Chu You, whose expression was equally complicated.
In her crimson eyes, the glow faded ever so slightly.
“Sorry, You-jie…..”