Chapter 34

The afternoon meeting primarily decided to strengthen protection against anomalous organisms nationwide, concentrating residents in remote areas into towns. It also introduced more preferential welfare policies for awakened individuals and accelerated recruitment of unaffiliated scattered awakened individuals.

The next day, an online national meeting of awakened representatives was held, with tens of thousands of awakened individuals online. Rewards for awakened individuals were announced, the scope of anti-anomalous organism measures was expanded, and preliminary deployments were made for future scenarios of rising dark matter concentration and increased anomalous organism activity.

Yang Yi spoke as a representative of the awakened at the online meeting, declaring she would do everything in her power to protect the nation and the personal and property safety of its people.

After going through this round of meetings and bureaucratic formalities, Yang Yi felt more exhausted than during the Fire Demon and Mist Town incidents. And inexplicably, she realized that after these two meetings, she had unconsciously shouldered responsibilities—invisible, intangible, yet heavier than Mount Tai.

Moreover, this responsibility was pulling her farther away from her dream of being a lazy fish.

Previously, she had been indifferent to the individual heroism portrayed in Aka’s superhero films, but now the phrase “With great power comes great responsibility” had wrapped around her like a vine, suffocating her.

She knew her current status was not earned through personal effort, but entirely due to this superpower she had received like a lottery ticket from heaven. It was less that this responsibility had been bestowed upon her, and more that it had been bestowed upon the lottery ticket she carried.

“Has there been any movement from Davies lately?” Yang Yi asked Feng Liancheng.

She decided to address the voice inside her, realizing that her ability to see the stone chair on the altar and her craving for the Life Source might be connected to that voice—perhaps linked to some demonic deity from another world. As for the voice’s assertion that she was destined to follow a certain path, she temporarily dismissed it as alarmist nonsense. The only way to learn more about this demonic deity was through Davies.

“No, since he vanished from Mist Town, he’s disappeared completely. Law enforcement agencies worldwide are searching for him,” Feng Liancheng said. “He might be preparing his next big move… He’s too dangerous—a terrorist awakened with a possible A-rank ability, possessing capability, goals, plans, and action. His buffs are stacked to the max! He could create an S-class-level threat!”

“Coordinate with the United Nations. If there’s any news on Davies, notify me immediately,” Yang Yi said. “I want to capture him myself.”

Feng Liancheng was bent over his beloved silver notebook, working. He looked up at her, raised an eyebrow, and hesitated to comfort her: “I know the four thousand deaths in Mist Town hit you hard. Maybe… our psychological counseling here is quite good, and post-mission counseling is standard procedure. Why don’t you go for a session?”

Yang Yi’s body tensed instantly, but her face remained expressionless. “What? Do I look like I’ve been traumatized? Are you worried I have PTSD?”

“No, it’s just standard procedure. Wei Chang’an, Chen Yushu, and others all go after every mission. It’d be strange if you didn’t,” Feng Liancheng shrugged, seemingly unconcerned.

Yang Yi stared at Feng Liancheng, still bent over his work. After a pause, she said: “Alright, I’ll go.”

She left Feng Liancheng’s office and glanced across the corridor at the opposite building—psychological counseling was on the fifth floor, room 503.

The Awakened Bureau was newly constructed, with fifteen floors total. Their office was on the second floor. The compound’s landscaping was excellent, the sunlight brilliant, and in May, the roses were in full bloom, their fragrance drifting through the windows. But it didn’t improve Yang Yi’s mood.

Since returning from Mist Town, she’d been busy with meetings and had naturally “forgotten” this procedure. Now, with Feng Liancheng’s reminder, she had no choice but to go.

She returned to her office with a blank expression and sat by the window, staring into space.

She wondered if Feng Liancheng had somehow found out something—why else would he remind her? Then she reassured herself: it was standard procedure; everyone who completed dangerous missions went through it. She’d had excuses the past two days—too many meetings, too busy. Today, there were none left.

Her fingers idly scrolled through her phone screen, swiping past app icons. She accidentally opened messages—Chris’s texts and shared photos appeared on the screen. Her head throbbed.

She’d been dodging for two days, using “busy with meetings” as an excuse. What a terrible excuse.

Why are you running? Isn’t he your idol? Didn’t you fantasize about him for ages? Now he’s come to you—why are you running?

You’re being such a damn baby! Since you’ve decided not to run anymore, just do it! He’s handed you a ladder—don’t you dare refuse to climb down. That’d be rude.

So she typed: “Finally not so busy today. What are you doing? My boyfriend?” After sending it, she shuddered with embarrassment.

She hurled the phone onto the desk as if it were a ticking bomb.

Even if she’d decided to face this inexplicable romance, how was she supposed to date him? He was in Aka, she was in Xia, separated by an entire Pacific Ocean. Sure, the Pacific wasn’t covered—but was she really going to fly over? She’d probably be shot down by their air force the moment she entered, as an illegal human nuclear weapon.

And why should she be the one to fly over? Why doesn’t he come to her?

Yang Yi scratched her head, amused by her own thoughts.

A Platonic spiritual romance? Exchanging texts and photos, sharing daily life? How long could that last? And Hollywood has so many beauties—his rumored ex-girlfriends were all stunning, each with blonde hair and blue eyes, or voluptuous figures, slender waists, and long legs. What value did she, a skinny stick, offer beyond the title “God of Humanity”? What else could she give a man?

And there’s a high chance he’s with her only because of her “God of Humanity” title. Otherwise, how could he have fallen in love at first sight at a party? That kind of love is just lust. How much “beauty” did she have to make a seasoned player who’d never lacked flowers notice her? Because she saved his life? Would a man fall in love with a woman out of gratitude? Absolutely not.

And someone as handsome as him has never lacked female attention since childhood. Her only novelty might be her top-ranked superpower. A man might not love a woman out of gratitude—but he’d definitely pursue a woman to conquer the “Number One.”

Do you really think he’ll fall in love with you? How laughably narcissistic.

After thinking it all through, she felt her answer that night had been a mistake.

Seeing the word “boyfriend” on the message again, she wanted to dig her toes into the floor.

Mistake! Mistake! This was a complete mistake! Things shouldn’t have happened this way. Meeting your idol? Fine! Admiring his handsome face, his six-pack, his biceps, his stunning butt, his beautiful blue eyes, being obsessed with his movie roles? All fine! Then what? You see a dish that looks, smells, and tastes amazing—you want to eat it, and you have the chance. So you prepare to take a bite. But have you considered: what if this dish is poisoned?

While you’ve only smelled the aroma, just let go now!

But the dish is already on the table—won’t it be a shame not to taste it?

Thinking of this, she looked at the photo he sent: he was sitting on a porch, his five-year-old nephew perched on his shoulder—a boy with light blonde hair and sky-blue eyes, both grinning brightly, teeth gleaming, genuine joy. Behind them was a rustic, countryside-style house. He said he’d been at his hometown these past few days.

That smile was almost silly—not like a 32-year-old man, but like a big, cheerful, innocent boy.

Thinking of it, the shy, lowered gaze he’d given her at the banquet returned to her mind, making her heart tingle again.

…

It was around 8 p.m. in Aka. The Chris family had just finished dinner and were chatting in the garden.

Chris’s parents divorced when he was young. His father remarried; his mother, disillusioned with marriage, raised Chris and his sister alone. She managed a theater, and both siblings, raised in that environment, became actors. His sister wasn’t as famous and married a screenwriter early; she was now pregnant with her second child. His nephew Sam was inside playing video games with his father.

When Yang Yi’s message arrived, his mother was asking him about his love life.

“Uh… there’s someone… but… I’m not sure…” Chris, recalling Yang Yi’s recent coldness, nervously licked his lower lip—a habit he had when anxious or uneasy.

His mother Mary knew this habit well. She smiled. “Oh, so this one isn’t going as smoothly as usual, is it?”

“You’ve been single for two years since your last relationship. Who is it? Someone from the industry? Catherine? Joanna? Christine…” His sister Nora listed several actresses he’d recently worked with. Chris shook his head at each.

To his mother’s teasing and sister’s probing, Chris only smiled bitterly. “We’re in a… strange place right now. She confessed to me, then suddenly went cold—I can’t figure out what she’s thinking.”

Around family, Chris rarely lied. He loved them and willingly shared his life—even work frustrations. When he’d once sunk into despair, it was his family who pulled him out.

“Wow—this one’s tough, huh? My son rarely looks this troubled by love—usually it’s the other person who’s the problem,” Mary winked at him. “Usually, it’s the woman who’s the one suffering.”

“I’m getting more curious. Who is this woman who’s got you tangled up? I’m going to worship her and ask her for tips on how to catch a man!” Nora teased. “Look at this game of hot-and-cold—my battle-hardened brother can’t handle it!”

“It’s not hot-and-cold. I think she’s trying to reject me,” Chris rubbed his nose, smiling bitterly. “She might regret confessing to me.”

Chris was an actor. Beyond training, he had a natural sensitivity to others’ emotions. He always sensed the truth beneath surface behavior. When he focused on someone, few could deceive him.

Mary and Nora exchanged glances. They both sensed this was different.

“Tell us—why do you think she’s trying to reject you?” Mary gently encouraged him.

Nora dropped her teasing expression, adjusted her pregnant belly, and prepared to listen intently.

Under his mother’s and sister’s persistent questioning, Chris hesitated. He didn’t want to publicize this romance before it even began. Her identity was sensitive—if their relationship became known, it would bring her serious trouble.

“Her confession came out of nowhere—like a sudden impulse. Then she immediately regretted it and hung up on me…” Chris recalled the events two days prior. He’d replayed them countless times, analyzing every word, every tone, trying to uncover her true intent. In the end, he had to accept: her confession was impulsive, perhaps even a joke.

The moment she hung up, she likely realized her impulsiveness and wanted to end the topic. But he, eager and impatient, called back immediately, seizing the chance to lock in their relationship.

That wasn’t gentlemanly—it might even have been taking advantage. She had once mentioned having nightmares, calling at 4 a.m. right after resolving the Mist Town crisis. News reports said four thousand had died there; her mood was undoubtedly shattered. She probably just needed comfort from a friend. If he had truly been a gentleman, he should have waited until she was fully awake and rational to confirm anything—no, he should have chosen the right moment to confess himself, never during or immediately after a traumatic, deadly event…

“I… I didn’t know… I might have sensed it wasn’t her true feeling… but I was too excited. I didn’t realize how much her confession meant to me. At that moment, I couldn’t think of anything else—I just wanted to seize the chance, to make our relationship official…” Chris rubbed his forehead, eyes lowered, voice heavy with exhaustion. “I think she doesn’t fully trust me. So I sent her messages, shared photos of my daily life, even pictures of my family—I wanted her to see the real me, not the one on TV or in the news… But these past two days, she’s been extremely cold to me…”

“Maybe I messed it up. If… maybe we can’t even be basic friends anymore. And we could’ve had so much more… Since that night, she’s kept saying she’s busy with meetings… but maybe she really is busy. Her job is incredibly important…” Chris said.

“Come on. If a girl really likes you, she won’t care about meetings. She’ll text you even while using the toilet! She’ll sacrifice sleep to video-call you, call you while eating, constantly think of you—look at you now, you’re acting like a love-struck fool…” Nora rolled her eyes. “Oh, you finally got your comeuppance. Remember Deborah? When she left you, she was heartbroken—that’s what real love looks like!”

“Nora, leave your brother alone,” Mary said. “Our heartthrob is experiencing unrequited love for the first time. We should comfort and help him, right?” She couldn’t help smiling.

“Fine, fine, laugh all you want! This is my punishment for confiding in you…” Chris sighed helplessly.

Suddenly, a message alert chimed. Chris pulled out his phone. It was from Yang Yi. The word “boyfriend” on the screen instantly erased all his doubts and worries.

He tried to suppress his joy, but his facial muscles couldn’t help lifting into a smile.

“I bet it’s her! Let me see who it is!” Nora pushed forward with her pregnant belly. Chris quickly grabbed his phone and walked deep into the garden.

He took a deep breath and dialed Yang Yi’s number.