Chapter 22: Startling News! (3)

After Wu Zui and his companion announced their names, both withdrew their fists at the same moment.

Mao Lie, as he pulled back, stepped forward with his left foot, then launched his right fist straight at Wu Zui's face. If that punch landed, Wu Zui’s features would be ruined, and his nose might need surgery. But Wu Zui advanced as well, sidestepping ever so slightly to dodge Mao Lie’s blow, and his right elbow struck Mao Lie squarely in the chest. A muffled thud rang out, and Mao Lie was sent flying. He crashed to the ground, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Wu Zui had held back; his elbow struck the center of Mao Lie’s chest, the hardest part of the ribcage. Had it landed on the solar plexus, the blow could have been fatal.

“…Take him away… Get him treated!” Xiao Anguo exhaled, glancing at Mao Lie spitting blood, and spoke to the nearby officers.

That burly man might not have known, but a nickname often describes a person more accurately than their real name. There are only wrong names, never wrong nicknames. If Wu Zui couldn’t fight, perhaps he really would be called the “Diviner.” He imagined those criminals uncovered by Wu Zui were persuaded back with words, but in truth, their bones were broken and they were dragged back.

Outside the magnetic chamber, as several officers familiar with Mao Lie moved to carry him to the medical room, the chamber’s door opened…

Another man was pushed out—the officer who had entered during the heated argument just moments before. Now, he was a victim of brain death.

All the waiting officers were stunned; the mortality rate for awakening magnetic abilities was twenty percent, but two deaths in a row meant only a four percent chance. More crucially, both men had been warned by Wu Zui not to enter.

No one knew how Wu Zui could tell that they would have trouble inside. Some officers began to suspect something was wrong with the magnetic chamber today; most were hesitant to step inside.

Mao Lie, now supported by others, was at a loss for words. He could only allow himself to be taken away for healing and examination.

At that moment, a smooth forehead appeared before Wu Zui.

“Master, could you check for me? Does my brow look dark?” Xiao Ke’ai had somehow arrived at Wu Zui’s side, asking anxiously.

“No, it’s bright!” Wu Zui glanced unobtrusively at the top of her head and replied softly.

“Good! You’re all afraid to go in, aren’t you? Step aside, I’ll do it!” Xiao Ke’ai grinned, nodding, and addressed the hesitant officers, then walked over to the waiting researcher.

“Ai’ai… be careful!” Xiao Ke’ai’s mother called out, worried as she watched her daughter prepare to enter.

Xiao Anguo fixed his gaze on Wu Zui, uncertain what to think.

“Mom, don’t worry!” Xiao Ke’ai spoke without a trace of fear, then vanished with the researcher at the chamber’s entrance.

Ten minutes passed in a flash. Inside the chamber, not a sound was heard. Not a scream, not even a whisper—if no one emerged, those at the door might have believed the room was empty.

“Why is there no sound at all?” Xiao Ke’ai’s mother fretted, turning to Xiao Anguo.

“Yi Yi, don’t worry. Some who awaken successfully feel absolutely no pain, though that’s a rare type!” Xiao Anguo comforted his wife.

Just then, the chamber door opened. Xiao Ke’ai emerged radiant and lively, followed by the researcher—it was clear she had succeeded.

“Dad, you made it sound so terrifying, but I felt nothing at all! Not even pain—it was almost boring!” Xiao Ke’ai’s eyes shone even brighter as she approached Xiao Anguo, complaining playfully.

“Well… it varies from person to person. The chance of awakening without pain is very low—our Ai’ai is truly lucky!” Xiao Anguo replied, delighted.

His daughter spared from suffering—what could be better?

“You nearly scared me to death!” Ji Yi Yi embraced Xiao Ke’ai, still shaken.

Xiao Anguo’s side was overly lively, almost as if they’d just survived a disaster. Wu Zui moved over to the researcher instead; the other officers were still uneasy, none stepping forward, so he could skip the queue.

The researcher led Wu Zui into the chamber.

From within, this magnetic chamber was many times larger than the security checkpoint one. Along the walls at intervals were conical metal devices, each pointed directly at the room’s center, where a metal chair stood.

“Put all electronic devices in the box by the door, then sit in the center and don’t move!” the researcher instructed, pointing to the box and the chair, then left for a side compartment.

Wu Zui placed his watch, phone, and other items in the box, then checked his reflection to confirm the state of the smoke above his head.

[OK! No problem.]

After confirming, Wu Zui sat in the chair.

Blue arcs of electricity flickered across the black walls. Wu Zui’s brow began to twitch violently.

Ah~~~

A shrill cry echoed, startling the officers waiting outside. They had heard screams before, but never so loud—almost like a pig being slaughtered.

And this was with a wall between them!

The fear the officers had felt towards Wu Zui evaporated with that scream.

“Did that ruthless diviner check his own face before going in?”

“I saw him using a little mirror just now!”

“Isn’t it said that fortune-tellers can’t read their own fortune?”

…

The officers at the door discussed among themselves. Xiao Ke’ai watched the chamber door anxiously.

[Hope Master is safe!]

Above the South Sea

Night had fallen. The boundless ocean lay calm, the sea stirred by the wind, shimmering under the moonlight with a tranquil beauty.

Even near the coast, no boats disturbed this peace tonight—not illegal fishing, not smuggling, not even the diligent sea patrols. All the officers were inland; those who had awakened their magnetic abilities had begun cleansing monsters, those who hadn’t were clearing citizens, urging them to return home and not linger outside.

Boom~

A muffled sound resounded over the South Sea, a column of water shot skyward. Yet no one noticed—everyone was busy inland.

The water column quickly fell back into the embrace of Mother Sea under gravity.

Woo~

A sound like a train whistle echoed. A monstrous creature, over ten meters long and fish-like, slowly surfaced.

It seemed to be pieced together from a human torso and parts of various common fish. Human limbs formed fin-like structures, yet its shape remained grotesquely human, twisted and evil.

Covering its body were layers of fine black scales, forming bizarre and warped patterns.

“Endure~”

The creature’s head was a human skull; it gazed northward into the endless sea, uttering a single word. That word seemed to drain all its strength.

It was terrifying. Even in the officer system, currently recorded two-star monsters couldn’t speak—they could only howl or screech. Two-star ghosts, by contrast, often muttered to themselves.

Language is the flame of civilization, and one of the key divides between intelligence and mindlessness.

As moonlight touched its head, the monster quickly dove and swam away from the direction of Huaxia. The fleeting human face illuminated by moonlight belonged to Li Xin Yi.

Meanwhile, on Mingzhu Island, Brother Tian, locked in the detention cell, sensed a heaviness in the night air.

With most officers gone to clear away monsters, only a few remained at the Mingzhu Bureau to guard.

Alone, Brother Tian always felt something watching him. He suddenly turned, seeing ripples in the air; he rubbed his eyes, but nothing was there—it seemed a hallucination.

Woo~ woo~ woo~

Inside, a sound began—a low, mournful noise like an old window not fully shut, or perhaps someone weeping. Yet the detention room had no windows!

“Come out! Who’s playing tricks? I’ve survived the streets too long to fear this! Come out!”

Brother Tian shouted into the seemingly empty cell, feigning bravado while his trembling legs betrayed his fear. One who commits many wrongs cannot help but feel guilty!

The moaning grew louder.

“Get out! Get—cough cough~”

Brother Tian yelled furiously, but the pain from the punch Wu Zui had landed on his chest made him double over, coughing.

When he looked up again, a blurred, swollen face appeared before him. Bloodshot eyes locked onto his own!

“Biaozi! Kou…”

The shadow instantly lunged at him. Brother Tian’s scream was abruptly cut off.

Eyes wide, lips pressed tight, he sank to the floor, then reached for his left index finger with his right hand.

Crack~

The finger snapped!

Then the middle, ring, and little fingers, followed by both legs, fractured, one after another. His shoulder blades, shot through by Ah Xiang earlier, should have left him powerless, yet now he displayed inhuman strength!

With his left hand and legs broken, Brother Tian began to gnaw at his own thigh and right-hand fingers. He twisted into poses impossible even for the most skilled contortionists, all for tearing chunks of flesh from his body.

Soon, the room was drenched in blood—walls, floor, ceiling spattered, as a shadow emerged from Brother Tian’s corpse, now even more solid than before.