Chapter 238: More of the Same People

Rain began to fall.

The downpour washed the city's grime, streaming down the slanted building walls and gathering into turbid mudwater.

Jiang Yuan felt no cold.

His arms had already lost sensation; the muscle fibers felt as if countless dull knives were pulling back and forth, the ache having long surpassed the nerves' transmission limit, leaving only numbness.

But he could not move.

Not even a micrometer would do.

Above his head lay thousands of tons of reinforced concrete, the weight of hundreds of families. Those black Shadow columns clamped tightly onto the floor slabs, emitting a grinding sound that made one's teeth ache.

Like a prisoner nailed to a pillar of shame.

In the distant sky, the private plane's tail light flickered twice, then plunged into the heavy clouds and vanished completely.

He ran away.

The man who treated lives like weeds and toyed with him at will swaggered away like that.

Taking with him the boy who had just completed the patricide ritual, his body full of sins.

At that moment.

Several strong beams of light pierced the rain curtain.

A few heavy transport helicopters roared in, their massive rotors whipping up gale‑force winds that prevented Jiang Yuan from opening his eyes.

Several thick steel cables dangled, Special Forces members slid down like dumplings, quickly erecting hydraulic support columns at the base of the slanted building.

"Structural reinforcement in progress!"

"Hydraulic jack in position! Three, two, one, lift!"

As the machinery roared, the steel behemoths representing industrial power began to exert force, gradually sharing the weight that had pressed on Jiang Yuan.

The pressure on the Shadow columns dropped sharply.

In the instant that the crushing load capable of breaking a spine vanished, Jiang Yuan did not feel relief, but rather a soul‑sapping exhaustion.

Plop.

His legs gave way, and he collapsed to his knees in the mud‑filled ruins.

The black Shadow receded like ebbing tide, swiftly pulling back beneath his feet.

"Medical team! Quickly!"

Several people in Doctor's Lab Coat rushed forward, trying to lift him onto a stretcher.

"No need, I can recover on my own soon."

Jiang Yuan lowered his head, his voice hoarse as if he had swallowed sand.

A few medics froze, their hands hovering, unwilling to step forward.

The aura the young agent exuded at that moment was terrifying, like a lone wolf that had just been beaten, licking its wounds alone.

Jiang Yuan propped himself on his knees, gasping heavily.

Rainwater dripped down his hair strands, mixing with blood on his forehead, smearing his eyes.

Through his blurred vision, he saw something.

Not far ahead in the rotten mud before his knees, a Poker Card lay quietly.

It was an Ace of Spades.

It was his proudest weapon, the glory he had taken from the training camp.

But now, the card had been stepped into the mud, bearing half a clear shoe imprint.

That was the imprint left by Chen Shao before he left.

Jiang Yuan reached out his hand.

He picked up the dirty card.

The icy feel spread from his fingertips through his whole body.

The specially crafted metal material was undistorted, yet the mud on it would not clean off.

Wang Zhangzhi appeared at an unknown moment, holding a black umbrella that shielded the rain above Jiang Yuan.

This old Captain, who had crawled out of a pile of corpses, said nothing comforting, merely handing over a dry towel.

"Your loss is not unjust," Wang Zhangzhi said evenly, with a hint of consolation, "At least you did the right thing."

Jiang Yuan took the towel.

He wiped the mud stain with his thumb.

"Return to the unit," Wang Zhangzhi sighed, patting Jiang Yuan's shoulder, "Lord Wei is waiting for you. Though the target escaped this time, at least we clarified one thing."

"What?"

"What we have to face is no longer scattered lone spirits and wild ghosts."

Wang Zhangzhi stared at the direction where Chen Shao disappeared, his gaze heavy.

"The wolf pack is beginning to gather."

Jiang Yuan said nothing.

He silently stood, carefully slipping the still‑stained Ace of Spades back into the Card Bag at his waist.

Placing it at the spot closest to his heart.

Next time.

Jiang Yuan said to himself in his mind.

I will thrust this card into your throat.

Chen Shao.

Thirty‑thousand‑foot altitude.

There is no heavy rain here, no mud, only golden sunlight spreading across the view and a pristine sea of white clouds.

Inside the cabin of the Bay Flow G650, the temperature is kept at a comfortable 24 °C.

The expensive genuine‑leather seats emit a faint leather scent, while a deep cello melody drifts through the air.

Compared with the chaotic, filthy world below, this place is nothing short of heaven.

Xu An sits by the window.

He still wears the blood‑stained clothes, barefoot, with moss from the correction center's basement clinging to his ankles.

Yet he seems completely unaware.

He simply presses his face against the porthole, looking down.

The city that once trapped him for over a decade and gave him countless nightmares has now become a Matchbox‑sized Building Block.

Those who once towered over him and gave him orders now probably aren't even dust.

"Stop looking."

A gentle voice interrupts his reverie.

Chen Shao changes into a clean gray loungewear, carries two delicate bone‑china cups, and sits opposite Xu An.

He is not wearing those signature sunglasses.

His eyes are calm, lacking both the previous madness and the sarcasm he showed when facing Jiang Yuan.

Like an ordinary older brother taking his younger sibling on a trip.

"That's a cage."

Chen Shao pushes one cup of hot milk toward Xu An; steam curls upward, carrying a hint of sweetness.

"Since you've already flown out, don't look back at that cage. It's not worth looking at."

Xu An turns his head.

On his delicate yet pallid face, the black suture across his mouth looks especially grim.

He gazes at the pristine cup of milk before him, his eyes a little dazed.

At the correction center, he has no right to drink milk. That's the Instructor's privilege. He can only have cold water, and sometimes not even that.

"I..."

Xu An emits a garbled syllable from his throat, the sound of vocal cords straining.

"Shh."

Chen Shao raises a finger, gently pressing it to his own lips.

"No need to speak. Your mouth isn't for explaining."

Chen Shao points to Xu An's lips, where the wound still bleeds, but his eyes show no disgust, only appreciation.

"The stitching is beautiful. It's the crown you placed upon yourself."

Xu An freezes for a moment, instinctively lifts his hand, and touches the rough black line on his lips.

Pain.

But very real.

"From today onward, forget the name Xu An."

Chen Shao lifts the milk and takes a sip, his posture elegant as if tasting fine red wine.

"That weak child who only cried for mercy has already died in that villa, dead beside his parents' corpses."

"You are the 'Silent One.'"

Chen Shao looks into the boy's eyes, speaking each word deliberately.

"You are one of us. Since this world is too noisy, full of lies and clamor, you will make them shut up."

Silent One.

Xu An silently repeats the name in his mind.

A strange feeling rises from deep within his heart.

Not fear, not excitement, but a... sense of sanctity.

Like a pilgrim who has walked in darkness for too long, finally seeing the temple's flames.

He is the Judge.

Xu An extends his hands, cupping the hot milk.

The warmth from his palms makes his long‑frozen heart flutter slightly.

Yet the madness in his eyes does not fade; it settles like volcanic ash, becoming denser and colder.

He looks at Chen Shao and slowly nods.

Chen Shao smiles.

This time it's a genuine smile.

He has found another of his kind—a kind pure enough, extreme enough.

"Let's rest for a while."

Chen Shao leans against the chair back, turns his head toward the golden sea of clouds outside, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest.

—Where are we going?

Xu An says nothing, but his gaze poses the question.

Chen Shao seems to read his thoughts.

"We will go find more people like us."

Chen Shao's voice is soft, yet carries an irresistible allure.