Chapter 175: The Heart

The people from District Three watched the departing figure with eyes full of confusion.

"Who was that? Do any of you know him?"

"How would we know him? We’ve only been here for a day."

"Look at his clothes and style—he’s clearly a local. What connection could we possibly have with him?"

"But that punch just now was so cool. He seemed really strong."

"Meh, not as cool as Chief Chen."

"Regardless, he did help us out... If we ever run into him again, we should properly thank him."

This mysterious person had appeared out of nowhere, punched Zhuo Shuqing, and then calmly left... Throughout the entire encounter, he hadn’t exchanged a single word with them, as if he truly was just a righteous passerby.

So there really were good people like this in Aurora City?

The thugs had beaten him mercilessly. If not for his defensive posture and the sudden intervention of that mysterious man, he would’ve ended up with at least a few broken bones...

"A'Cheng, are you alright?" Wen Shilin helped his assistant up. "Didn’t you say during your interview that you were good at fighting? How did you get taken down so easily?"

"I..." A'Cheng grimaced. "Sir, I am good at fighting, but just... decently good. One against three is my limit—and they even ambushed me from behind! How was I supposed to handle that?"

"You... sigh. Are you badly hurt?"

"Not really. Just superficial wounds." A'Cheng noticed the camera in Wen Shilin’s hands and suddenly asked, "Sir, do you know that guy?"

"No."

"Then why did he give you the camera?"

Wen Shilin glanced in the direction Chen Ling had left and shook his head. "No idea... But he probably did it for the sake of these District Three refugees. In times like these, people who stand up for justice are rare... It’s a shame he left so quickly. I would’ve liked to get to know him."

"We’re all in Aurora City. Maybe we’ll run into him again someday."

Wen Shilin hummed in agreement. "Maybe..."

---

By the time the thugs had finished venting their anger, the sun was nearly setting.

The thug leader, panting heavily, glared at the two half-dead figures on the ground, wiped the sweat from his brow, and spat fiercely onto the bloodied ground.

"I gave you face, took your money, and did my job—and this is how you treat me?"

"You think having money makes you special? Disgusting!"

The thug leader waved a hand. "Empty their wallets."

His lackeys immediately swarmed forward, nearly stripping Zhuo Shuqing and his assistant bare before handing a bulging wallet to their leader.

"Boss, got everything."

The leader flipped through it. "Hah. These reporters are all swimming in dirty money."

He pulled out a few silver notes, then tossed the rest of the cash—along with the wallet—back onto Zhuo Shuqing’s body. "Let’s go," he said coldly.

"Boss, we’re only taking this much?" One lackey’s eyes turned red at the sight of the thick wad of bills still in the wallet.

The leader slapped him across the face.

"We’re not goddamn robbers! We take what we agreed on—no more, no less. In this line of work, reputation matters. Got it?"

With that, he led his gang away.

About ten minutes later, they arrived at a dilapidated factory building and pushed open the door.

This was their "base"—at least, that’s what they called it. The group of forty or so men basically lived here, eating, drinking, and loafing around. To put it nicely, they were "between jobs." To put it bluntly, they were just a bunch of idle drunks who spent their days gambling and brawling.

The good news was that today’s job had paid well. Barring any surprises, they’d each have enough to splurge for the next few days.

Just as they were about to start celebrating, the flame of the kerosene lamp flickered. In the dim light, a figure appeared at the factory entrance like a ghost.

It was a young man in a brown overcoat, a pair of half-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. The lenses reflected the flickering lamplight, casting his calm face in shifting shadows... Now, with his hands in his pockets, he studied the rundown factory before him.

"So... you’re the underworld of the outer ring?" Chen Ling’s voice carried a hint of disappointment.

The sudden appearance of this figure startled everyone inside. They immediately grabbed whatever weapons were at hand, and when they recognized the man who had punched Zhuo Shuqing into oblivion earlier, their wariness deepened.

"Friend," the thug leader stepped forward, his voice low, "if you’re here for that reporter, he’s not here."

"I’m not looking for him. I’m here for you."

"For us?" The leader’s eyes narrowed. "We haven’t offended you, have we? Or are you here to stand up for those refugees?"

"I’m not that bored. I just want to ask—what kind of services do you offer here?"

"Services...?"

The leader was taken aback. Was this guy here to hire them as muscle?

"Our services are top-notch," he quickly amended. "As long as the price is right, we’re on call anytime... May I ask who you’re planning to deal with?"

"That’s not the kind of service I’m talking about." Chen Ling paused, his eyes narrowing. A cold wind swept into the factory with his words, making the kerosene lamp on the table flicker violently. "Can you... kill people?"

"Kill people?!" The leader’s face paled. "No. We don’t do that."

"Oh? What about organ trading?"

The leader’s expression grew even more strained. "We don’t deal in organs either..."

After these two questions, the other lackeys began to panic. This young man looked refined, but the things coming out of his mouth were downright horrifying... They were just a bunch of unemployed drunks who liked to brawl. This kind of stuff was way out of their league.

"If you don’t even have these things, how can you call yourselves the underworld?" Chen Ling clicked his tongue. "Then do you know where I can trade organs?"

"No! We don’t know!"

The leader answered without hesitation. "Friend, we didn’t mean to offend you earlier. The services you’re asking for... we really don’t have them. And honestly, no one in the entire outer ring would dare touch that business."

Chen Ling frowned, lost in thought.

"That can’t be right... How could there be nothing?"

After a moment of hesitation, the leader couldn’t suppress his curiosity and cautiously asked, "What do you need these places for?"

"To find something."

"What?"

Chen Ling smiled faintly. In the flickering lamplight, his grin was icy and eerie:

"...My heart."