Chapter 23: Troupe

“Xiao Sheng, I’ve gotten you another big job.”

Cui Yi called, his tone excited: “In over a month, at the China International Trade Tower, there’s a lavish wedding hiring our MS Company to organize it. The daily wage for regular staff is five thousand! Plus, each person gets a gift bag worth over four thousand.”

“Regular staff get gift bags?” Li Cheng was surprised. “And why is it over a month away? Usually, weddings this expensive are planned six months to a year in advance.”

“Because the bride is from the mainland and the groom is a Malaysian Chinese; both families are insanely rich and refuse to be outdone by the other, so they’re holding two banquets—one in each place. That’s why the timeline is tight. The wedding’s expected to cost tens of millions; the gift bags are just pocket change.”

As Cui Yi spoke, he noticed Li Cheng’s tone wasn’t as eager as last time. “What’s wrong? You’ve got something on your mind?”

“Nothing.” Li Cheng shook his head. “I’m just wondering if there’s any low-barrier, quick-money job out there.”

“Haha, all the fast ways to make big money are written in the criminal code.”

Cui Yi chuckled. “An elder once told me: in modern society, there are only four legal paths to wealth. Connections. Intelligence. Speed. Ruthlessness.”

As a young man hardened by the brutal realities of society, Cui Yi had his own philosophy of life.

After repeatedly stressing that Li Cheng should seize the chance to apply for a regular position at MS Company (regular employees earn far more than outsourced workers), he hung up before Li Cheng could answer.

I haven’t even said whether I’ll go yet.

Li Cheng put down his phone helplessly. Of course, a job paying five thousand a day with gift bags was too good to pass up.

Thump!

His heart lurched—the sensation of [Gene Hunger] returned. Li Cheng’s expression grew slightly serious, but he wasn’t panicked.

He had prepared thoroughly. Immediately, he pulled a paper tube, thumb-thick, from his pocket.

Inside the tube were wood shavings; deep within lay a female cricket.

Male crickets have sound-producing organs on their forewings, composed of a scraper, a friction vein, and a sound mirror. By raising and rubbing their forewings together, they vibrate the sound mirror to produce tones.

Female crickets lack forewings and extra organs, so they cannot chirp. Li Cheng kept them stored as a contingency option for extreme cases of [Gene Hunger].

There wasn’t enough time to ride home. Li Cheng slipped into a bathroom stall, tipped the cricket into his palm, and began absorbing its genes.

Buzz—buzz—

His phone buzzed with a WeChat message from Yuan Zhixia. She had previously substituted for Li Cheng as the school newspaper’s photographer, interviewing and photographing Xue Luomeng, and was pleased. Now she demanded he take leave again—she wanted to indirectly get close to Xue Luomeng by interviewing her sister, Xue Lingyu.

Sis, are you actually a lesbian?

Rainbow, woman, hand.gif

Li Cheng wanted to reply, but the violent changes in his body left him motionless.

In the cramped stall, dense ant-like bristles sprouted along his arms; mantis bone blades extended involuntarily; muscles on his thighs swelled and spasmed uncontrollably.

What’s happening? Before, it always went smoothly. Why not this time?

Li Cheng was certain he hadn’t messed up the procedure. He fought desperately against the searing pain of muscle spasms, silently screaming as he ripped off his clothes and pants to prevent them from tearing.

Simultaneously, he struggled to suppress the urge to smash the entire stall to rubble.

Boom!

That familiar muffled sound echoed again from high above; the bathroom lights flickered wildly, dimming and brightening.

Someone—or something—had activated the Shadow Realm.

————

Half an hour earlier, inpatient ward, single room.

A middle-aged man slowly pushed open the door, his gaze sorrowful as he stared at his eight- or nine-year-old son, completely wrapped in bandages.

From the medical card on the bedside table, the boy’s name was Cai Zixuan. The man was his father, Cai Yongyuan.

“Zixuan? Are you awake? If you are, just look at your father. I know I was wrong.”

Cai Yongyuan’s eyes filled with grief as he sat beside his son.

“It’s all my fault. I gambled away our family, drove your mother away.”

His left hand gently gripped his son’s right wrist; his right hand slipped into his pocket and withdrew a syringe filled with clear liquid.

“I neglected home, stayed out all night gambling, left you to cook alone.”

He tapped the syringe, expelling the air.

“I drank, yelled at you, beat you, blamed everything on you—until you couldn’t take it anymore and jumped from the building.”

He gently removed the IV needle from his son’s hand, wiping away excess fluid with tissue.

“The doctor says you’ll wake up eventually. When you do, I’ll change my ways. We’ll live well together.”

Holding the syringe, he slowly inserted it into the needle mark on his son’s hand.

Was it an illusion? The boy, who had fallen from the seventh floor and lain unconscious for days, seemed to have slightly opened his eyes, gazing weakly at his father.

Cai Yongyuan instinctively broke into a cold sweat—but then he realized, forcing a grotesque smile.

“Son, I love you forever.”

He kissed his forehead lightly, then pressed the plunger all the way down.

The deed done, Cai Yongyuan retrieved the syringe, restored everything to order, and quietly slipped out of the room—like any ordinary father worn out by his child’s critical illness—walking to the window at the end of the corridor to breathe the night air.

Inside the single room, the clear liquid known as Cationic Cleaner had already spread through Cai Zixuan’s bloodstream.

Cationic Cleaner is a positively charged surfactant, also called reverse soap. It’s unsuitable for laundry but ideal as a fabric softener, bactericide, emulsifier, or anti-static agent.

When absorbed orally or through the skin, it interferes with cellular function, causing nausea, vomiting, weakness, respiratory paralysis, and death. Immediate emergency treatment and rapid vomiting are required.

But if injected intravenously, there is no cure—and it is nearly undetectable by standard forensic methods.

“.”

Cai Zixuan lay on the bed, a single tear tracing down his slightly open eyelid.

Time passed slowly. Intense pain swept through his body, yet he couldn’t even cry out.

Sizzle. Sizzle.

Above the bed, a black fissure suddenly split open. A grotesque clown mask emerged, tilting its head to stare at Cai Zixuan, whispering: “Do you want to live?”

Cai Zixuan forced his eyes to blink once.

“Even if it costs you everything? Your emotions. Your humanity. Your soul.”

Silent blink.

“Then the contract is sealed.”

From the clown’s fissure, a hand reached out, smearing black grease across the boy’s face, carving a grinning mask.

“Cry. Scream. Kill. The [Troupe] will witness your rebirth, welcome your arrival.”

As the whisper faded, the clown retracted its hand—and the fissure vanished with it.

(End of Chapter)