Just as Lin Cheng had said, the morning sun shone brightly.
Summer had arrived, and they ought to have a date amid the splendid summer sunshine.
Xu Wanyue stood before her vanity mirror, pulling out several outfits one after another. Lin Cheng sat in the living room, waiting as she tried them on set by set. He had clearly told her to wear whichever one she liked best, but Xu Wanyue stubbornly insisted that he pick one.
In the end, she settled on a white off-shoulder lace camisole with delicate white lace trim at the chest, layered under a denim jacket. Loose-fitting denim pants hugged her legs, paired with a pair of sneakers, and her jet-black hair was tied back, giving her a youthful, vibrant look.
The camisole revealed a sliver of her fair, soft midriff. When Lin Cheng leaned in close, he sneakily reached out and poked her waist with a finger.
Xu Wanyue didn’t get mad. Instead, when he wasn’t paying attention, she poked his waist right back.
Xu Wanyue took the wheel for the drive to the amusement park, while Lin Cheng lounged in the passenger seat, leaning back lazily against the headrest. Warm, gentle sunlight streamed in through the window.
A City Alliance Headquarters.
Ming Si knocked on the door, and it opened smoothly almost at once. The man inside had clearly been waiting for some time.
As the leader of the A City Alliance Headquarters, he had rarely appeared in public in recent years, issuing most of his orders from the shadows. He had commanded the A City Alliance for fifteen years, and every decision he made during that time had proven absolutely correct. The Alliance had flourished under his rule. The Catastrophes had finally ended three years ago, bringing unprecedented challenges, yet to this day, the Alliance remained the foremost organization among all Ability User groups, suppressing every rogue faction.
The man seated in the chair was thirty-nine years old.
Compared to those council members, he was still quite young. He was no absolute Lord—many proposals required a parliamentary vote for final approval—but he occupied this position because he was one of the fewer than ten SSS-grade powerhouses in the world.
His title within the Alliance was 【New Lord】.
Ming Si sat down across from him. As a veteran of the Alliance, he had watched the New Lord grow step by step. Even the New Lord’s ascension to leadership of the A City Alliance owed much to Ming Si’s single vote. He believed in this young man’s capabilities, convinced that he could lead the Alliance—and all of humanity—to prosperity and glory.
Naturally, he knew the New Lord’s real name.
The New Lord was named Ji Yun.
“Little Ji, how long has it been since we last met?” Ming Si had barely settled into his seat when Ji Yun poured him a cup of tea. The tea set was brand new, while a cup of black coffee sat before Ji Yun himself—he didn’t drink tea.
“Six months and three days,” Ji Yun replied softly.
Abilities slowed the aging process, so the thirty-nine-year-old looked no different from a man in his twenties. These past few years, he had seldom shown his face, spending most of his time in this very room handling official duties.
“You already know what I came to say?” Ming Si’s tone suddenly sharpened, his slightly cloudy eyes locking onto Ji Yun with an intensity that carried an aura of unspoken authority.
Ji Yun’s hand didn’t tremble as he poured the tea. He merely answered respectfully, “Yes, I have some idea.”
“Do you have any explanations?” Ming Si snorted coldly.
“The original purpose of the Alchemy Matrix in that Alliance prison was to harvest energy from those criminals to advance Alchemy Technology. That’s always been the case.”
“As for taking away those special Ability Users for experiments…”
That was the heart of the matter, and Ji Yun didn’t dodge it. He cut straight to the point. “I don’t see any problem with it.”
Clearly, that wasn’t the answer Ming Si wanted.
Ji Yun lifted his coffee cup and took a sip, gazing at the curling steam rising from Ming Si’s tea. “The era we live in now is completely different from the past.”
“Since the Catastrophes ended, Ability User crime rates have surged by 268 percent compared to before.”
“And among all Ability User crimes in these three years, fewer than sixty percent have been resolved. The Alliance lacks the resources to investigate every case and the deterrence to make criminals think twice.”
“Eighteen people were taken from Cold Prison. Their lives contributed immeasurable value to society as a whole. Some deaths led to new drug developments; others birthed breakthroughs in Alchemy Technology. Compared to a straight execution by the Alliance, their ends created countless benefits.”
“Every one of them committed sins grave enough to warrant instant execution upon capture and sentencing. Since they were going to die anyway, why not make their deaths meaningful?”
Ji Yun’s voice was earnest, devoid of arrogance or disdain. His eyes fixed seriously on Ming Si. “Si Ming ended the Catastrophes and the war between humanity and the Abyss, but a new war has begun. This is a war between the Alliance and Ability Users worldwide. Without sufficient power, the Alliance will eventually be devoured. Humanity’s conscience and morals will only become the weakest links, easily shattered.”
“Si Ming wouldn’t want you doing this,” Ming Si said, lifting the still-scalding tea to his lips.
“He’s a laughable idealist—a babe in swaddling clothes, a powerless escapist!”
Only when Ming Si mentioned that name did Ji Yun’s emotions flare.
“From all the intelligence we’ve gathered, Si Ming is just a kid in his early twenties. I don’t deny the massive contributions he’s made to the Alliance—to the entire world. He should be enshrined as a hero, even a deity. But how could a god understand mortal suffering?”
“When he personally ended the Catastrophes, I told him I hoped he’d stay with the Alliance. I offered him my position. I needed to borrow his power to intimidate the darkness, to use that mask of his. As long as that mask remained with the Alliance, no one would dare defy our orders. But he chose to leave, claiming his power was exhausted.”
“Does it even matter if his power is exhausted? We only needed the mask—a symbol to inspire fear, a deity to cow them. He left behind ten vials of Evolution Blood, which allowed the Alliance to stand firm amid the chaos. After that, he washed his hands of it all. With great power comes great responsibility. His choice was nothing but the evasion and weakness of the incompetent.”
“If his power really is exhausted, why force him? If there were a choice, who wouldn’t want a normal life?” Ming Si watched quietly as Ji Yun’s anger surged.
“Do you know what our research on Evolution Blood has yielded these years?” Ji Yun abruptly shifted the topic. Ming Si paused, then fell silent, letting him continue.
“Evolution Blood is Si Ming’s blood, infused with a portion of his power. But all our results show that those ten vials only contained a fragment of it. The energy in that blood is still growing. Which means… his ‘exhausted power’ might just be an excuse. His strength has been slowly recovering all along. He simply grew tired of the Ability User world and chose to run away.”
“And someone with power who chooses to run away— what right does he have to condemn me for using any means to achieve my ends, without morals? A ridiculous dreamer, spouting childish fantasies while craving an easy life. Do you really think I’m wrong, Ming Si? Think about it carefully. The Alliance is the last line of defense for ordinary people right now!”
“He claims he wants to live as a normal person, but what if one day his greed drives him to seize it all—or his selfish desires lead him to destroy the world? Who could stop him? He’s like a ticking time bomb, and once it goes off, everything will fall into chaos because of him.”
“The Alliance’s power is too weak—too fragile to weather even a single major storm. We manage rogue Ability Users while handling the occasional Catastrophe that still crops up. Even this city is shrouded in some inexplicable shadow.”
Ji Yun rose abruptly and turned to the window. Outside, the sun shone brightly under a clear blue sky. He took another sip from his coffee cup.
“Yesterday’s forecast called for torrential rain today, but some inexplicable force altered the weather over the entire city. Just like a year and a half ago, when it was supposed to be clear skies but rained all day instead.”
“This isn’t some freak natural phenomenon. Someone manipulated the city’s weather purely with energy. And to this day, we still don’t know who—or why. Maybe they were just bored… That’s what fills me with bone-deep dread: the unknown lurking in the shadows.”
“Fear has driven me these years. It’s that fear that makes me crave power… Or would you rather place your faith in a heart that’s always pure as a mirror?”
Ming Si’s gaze followed to the clear sky outside. He chose silence.
Amusement park.
As far as Lin Cheng could remember, this was only the second time in his life he’d visited an amusement park. The first had been with Litchi, who loved all the thrill rides. But that was ages ago—she must have been sixteen or seventeen then, two or three years back.
Today, it was with Xu Wanyue. They could get a couples’ ticket at the entrance, verified with just a quick kiss—seventy percent off. Lin Cheng got to plant one on her cheek.
She smelled sweet. Xu Wanyue had put on light makeup before heading out, though she rarely bothered on ordinary days. Even without it, she was a stunner rating at least a 9.5, with a killer figure and porcelain skin.
Maybe this was part of Luck too?
“Wanna ride that one?” Xu Wanyue gazed eagerly at the distant roller coaster, only to see a hint of trepidation in Lin Cheng’s eyes.
“C-Could we skip it?” Lin Cheng’s voice trembled slightly.
“But it’s like going to an amusement park and not riding the roller coaster—like eating dumplings without dipping sauce!”
“I can… wait for you down below.”
“Riding alone would scare me too. If you ride with me, I’ll give you a kiss.”
The charming young woman batted her eyes at him playfully, extending her olive branch without a hint of subtlety.
