Chapter 4: Don't Make a Sound

This is the past of an overly honest, upright man.

"Don't make a sound. No matter what happens, don't make a sound."

Su Er Da Weng would never forget that scene.

While stuffing herself into the small hidden wine cellar beneath the bed, his mother covered her own mouth and said through tear-filled eyes.

"Good baby, good baby, don't cry. Mama loves you, mama loves you, mama loves you."

After one last embrace and kiss, his mother took a deep breath and left with her belongings, teeth clenched.

In less than ten minutes, she was killed by the bandits in her own living room.

The woman's screams, weeping, wails, and pleas for mercy woke six-year-old Xiao Su Er every single night, and he would lie sleepless until dawn.

On countless nights after that, whenever he closed his eyes, it was as if he returned beneath that bed again.

He didn't dare open his eyes, as if the moment he did, he would see his mother enduring agony and despair.

She, mouth wide open, eyes brimming with tears, stared at him, stopping him from crawling out from under the bed.

He knew this was a self-deceiving illusion. Back then, the him who had covered his ears and head had heard nothing, seen nothing.

The only thing he saw was his mother later, after she was found, beneath the white cloth—that face, dead with eyes unclosed, half of it visible.

"I… am a coward."

No reason, no excuse—in the long and painful life that followed, Su Er Da Weng regretted his cowardice and timidity back then countless times.

"I will absolutely never let evil go unpunished!"

Yes, why was I back then so cowardly, so lacking even the courage to rush out and protect the person I loved most.

Why did I not even have the courage to rush out and die together

"I will never abandon my protection of the innocent and the weak!"

Mother, I miss you so much.

My sword shall forever swing for the weak, for people just like you.

"Justice, never compromise."

I would rather die on the road of charging forward than remain in this living hell of a human world filled only with regret and pain.

"Judgment!" Silver light swung, a head flew, splashing blood—yet satisfaction was never attained.

This is a roar that transcends time, a resonance between heroic spirit and mortal, a dream that is shattering

"Head hurts so much, feels awful, tears?"

When Li En woke from sleep, he was a bit dazed; that kind of heartfelt regret and despair made him unbearably depressed.

"I am Li Ensu, not Li En. Cough, not Su Er Da Weng, the most upright and also the most foolish Oath Knight." He understood where the warning about self-recognition danger on that Heroic Spirit card came from.

The origin of a hero is often a tragedy, and Su Er Da Weng's was a bit excessive.

He sat on the bed in the detention cell for a long time before he caught his breath.

Fortunately, there seemed to be a decent outlet right before his eyes.

"Bang!"

His last punch slammed into the wall; ignoring a robber collapsed on the floor, Li En shook his numb wrist.

Six burly men with bruised and swollen faces lay scattered about the cell, now all curled up in the corner trembling.

【Sync Rate 14.2%, Satisfaction 9.7%.】

The numbers on the ancient book pulsed; Li En licked his cracked lips.

The guess was correct—"Punishing Evil" did raise the numbers, but only by this much. It seemed such weak "evil" couldn't satisfy Mr. Su Er.

Li En had already understood the use of the Heroic Spirit card to a certain extent; it was a kind of "soul superposition state."

The initial fusion period, perhaps also called the burst period of sync rate, was when the Heroic Spirit's presence was strongest; then it entered a stable period, during which the sync rate was relatively steady.

And when the second-cycle stable period ended and the Heroic Spirit card's effect was about to vanish, how much remained depended on the Heroic Spirit's satisfaction with you.

"Supernatural."

Li En hadn't expected to come into contact with the reality of this supernatural world so quickly.

During the stable period, several memory fragments of Su Er were also "decompressed" by Li En.

Even fragmentary memories of a former Great Knight were far more useful than the books Li En had collected himself.

"Soul, body, and the skills and techniques of the professional class. Heart, body, technique?

This isn't an abstract description, but a real, tangible existence.

In this world, the body is the root of everything—the hardware running the software, the cup that holds the water.

"The beast-people species of this world can actually keep evolving; no wonder this degenerate of mine is regarded as a waste."

Even the lizardman Li En was disguised as could, through magical potions and supernatural rituals, evolve into a Shadow Lizard with camouflage (color-changing) ability, or a Stone Lizard with skin hard as iron.

Such advancement equals a leap in species; though extremely difficult, a strong individual's life can still encompass several such leaps.

An inferior-stone mortal becoming a brilliant diamond, or even an undying myth.

As far as Li En knew, above the racial rating of inferior stone came raw stone, and above raw stone came colored gold; the upper limit of evolution was quite high.

That leopard-woman police officer he'd seen before should have advanced at least twice, while Su Er seemed to have advanced four or five times, being called a quasi-mythical species.

The body is the foundation of life; the mind (soul) that carries technique (memory) is the source of life.

And technique, or rather the combat-class level, is the water in the cup, the software running on the hardware.

As a "degenerate (inferior-stone grade)," Li En now held the "heart" of a strong individual, and indirectly possessed his technique (sixth-tier Oath Knight).

Right now, he only had a second-tier Oath Knight, plus temporary levels of first-tier Holy Knight and Warrior.

But as time passed, the cup kept leaking water, and everything was destined to drain away.

Whether he could, during this period, earn the Heroic Spirit's approval and retain more through soul resonance—that was what Li En needed most right now.

He clenched his fist; it felt very uncoordinated

"This is probably like trying to run Black Myth: Wukong on max graphics on a 1050 computer."

The complete form of the Quasi-Mythical Sur should be more than just a Sixth-Rank Great Knight; this was merely the limit of Li En's resonance with a 30% synchronization rate yesterday, and now, with only 10%, what Li En can achieve on his own is even more limited.

"If you're no good, just practice more."

So, Li En, raising his fist, decided to find his roommate to practice more.

Even if he couldn't grind up synchronization rate or satisfaction, as long as he punished evil, not only would the "Machine Soul" be greatly pleased, but he himself, resonating with it, would feel great too.

But this time, he was stopped.

"Oathsworn One, spare those unlucky bastards."

The jingle of a keychain came from outside the iron bars; the leopard-eared policewoman stood in the morning light with her arms crossed, her honey-colored tail impatiently lashing the air.

"Someone is vouching for you."

This completely exceeded Li En's expectations; the things he had done were not small, he had no relatives or friends here, so who would vouch for him?

On the long corridor, besides the prisoners' pleas, there was only the sound of footsteps, one ahead and one behind.

The honey-colored tail swaying ahead made Li En feel an itch in his hands.

"Your aura is much weaker than yesterday."

The sudden words startled Li En; was he being seen through?

The "Sur" with yesterday's 30% synchronization rate was naturally far stronger than the current Li En with 10%; a Sixth-Rank Great Knight and a Second-Rank Knight were not even the same species.

And even with accounts of the same level, the power exerted by a pro player and a newbie was not on the same tier.

If it were him logging in yesterday, let alone that noble Young Master who had clearly completed a racial transition, even the bandits in that black-market shop would have been a struggle for him to kill.

Li En didn't know how to answer, while Talia's gaze held a bit more pity and respect.

"You have become a Degenerate; your strength should be constantly fading. The opportunities you have to act are precious. This time, you acted for the police station to sweep away a big trouble; we owe you. If you need anything, just say it."

What is this and what is that? Li En was completely stunned.

But in Talia's imagination, a complete logical chain had already formed.

This respected Oathsworn Knight before her must have injured his foundation during a battle to protect justice, constantly losing strength while degenerating, and was forced to retire; with too many enemies from the past, he could only come to this foreign land to make a living.

That forcibly retained strength should be his reliance for future life, his life-saving asset, but facing evil and atrocities, how could this battle-hardened man of justice turn a blind eye?

Whether it was his oath or his heart of justice, it made him draw his sword without hesitation.

That day's "crazy law enforcement" was probably a desperate move by him, realizing his strength was flowing away to the point of no return, trying to solve the problem all at once.

Now, his aura is not even a tenth of yesterday's; he must have injured his root, which might even affect his lifespan. Degenerates basically don't live long.

"Even in this state, he still risks everything to execute justice and fulfill his oath; does he not consider his own future?"

Talia, having figured all this out in the office at that time, shed tears of emotion.

"Our police station also needs some clerks; if you are willing, you can work here. We need a senior's experience, not combat missions."

At this moment, the prisoners in the adjacent cell who saw this scene were dumbfounded.

Who didn't know the ferocity and ruthlessness of the boss of the Third Bureau in the Dock District, "Explosive Claw Knife Sister"? Who exactly is this cat-girl blushing and pinching a tail?

Then, the prisoner was glared at by "Knife Sister" and didn't dare speak, shrinking into his cell.

Li En was a bit confused; he didn't know how to respond. What exactly happened? Wasn't this plot development a bit off?

No matter how long the corridor, it was nearing the end; Talia, not receiving the expected response, fell silent.

She didn't know how to say the next words.

This glorious and just classical knight had suffered enough; next, he was about to endure the greatest humiliation a man could face.

"The one vouching for you is your fiancée."

"What?"

At the end of the corridor, a woman was already waiting.

A desert rose tattoo wound its way along her graceful waist, finally disappearing beneath a pearl-embellished bandeau.

She was the dream girl from the portrait carried by "Li En," the never-before-seen "fiancée," the resplendent Desert Pearl, Miss Shaliman Sudar.

Yet at this moment, her eyes were cold.

"Her family has some objections to that marriage contract."

The low voice was Talia's final sympathy.

Sympathy for the lofty yet tragic Oathsworn One, about to suffer humiliation.

Li En's mouth hung open, his face full of shock.

"A classic broken engagement opening? Could it be that I am actually the protagonist of a broken engagement story?"

(End of this chapter)