The Horse Ranch

Under the cover of night, the horse farm, which had already closed its doors, was a hidden gem. It was brightly lit, with waiters bustling about, and ladies and gentlemen in fine clothes were seated at separate tables. Each of them had an extraordinary air about them and an elegant demeanor. It looked like a banquet and ball of high society.

Soft, bright lights illuminated the stage.

The handsome man moved with the lightness of a dancer on the stage.

He stood tall and straight, his gait graceful, his tailcoat exquisite and beautiful, his face handsome and outstanding. Without a doubt, he was a rare handsome man, dashing and elegant, with aristocratic air and gentlemanly manners. Even on a global scale, he would be one of the most sought-after types of people in mainstream aesthetics.

These types of people usually have smooth sailing in their love lives. They never have the trouble of "how to get out of being single" or "how to pursue girls." So-called dating skills are meaningless to them, just like condoms in a virgin's wallet. With just their looks, they can become the center of attention and get along very well.

At this moment, he revealed a handsome and bright smile, and with his hands outstretched, he pointed to the woman who had fallen to the ground, as if introducing his dance partner for the evening to the entire audience.

The woman on the ground seemed completely out of place with him.

It was completely out of place in this underground theater.

The ladies present were dressed in exquisite evening gowns, radiating beauty. Their jewelry reflected a mesmerizing glow, and their skin was fair and delicate—the result of time, beauticians, money, and cosmetics.

The woman sitting on the ground had dry, yellow hair, lifeless eyes, and wrinkles on her face. Although she was still relatively young, she looked much older than the ladies present. Not to mention her clothes, cheap, mass-produced sportswear, which made her look like someone selling newspapers on the street.

The ladies observed the woman in the mud with curiosity and restraint. They maintained their politeness and composure, refraining from mockery or questioning, but their smiles contained a hint of disdain.

The handsome man announced the special program to the guests.

"A caged bird!"

He glanced at the customers around him and chuckled, "This is a story spanning twenty years, ladies and gentlemen. This struggling bird has been flying on its own for twenty years."

Shalana remained expressionless, as if she were completely unaware of everything.

"Oh, bird, bird, how can I obtain your pain and despair?"

The man bent down, stroked the other person's gaunt face, and smiled.

"Today, today!"

Three figures emerged from behind the stage curtain, all clad in black robes and wearing black masks that concealed their faces and figures, making it impossible to discern their gender.

One of them respectfully presented the robes and mask, which the handsome man accepted and put on.

"The actors are in place, the show is about to begin, ladies and gentlemen, this is the fruit of twenty years of hard work, and it is worth savoring."

After he finished speaking, he smiled and gave Shalana a light high five in front of her, "Now, wake up."

The crisp sound startled Shalana, who froze in shock. She seemed to awaken from a long nightmare, took a deep breath, and then realized where she was.

In an unfamiliar place, in a brightly lit hall, on a central stage, surrounded by well-dressed men and women, people sat elegantly, scrutinizing her, their gazes filling her with an instinctive fear and unease.

Where am I?

What place is this?

I...

Painful memories flooded back like a tidal wave. She gradually recalled what had happened before: she received a message from her informant, she went to find the China girl who had been kidnapped the previous night, she witnessed the gruesome crime scene, she fainted, and when she awoke, she was at the police station...

"Long time no see, Shalana."

A cheerful voice came from behind.

The voice was both strange and familiar.

The woman instinctively turned her head, looking up, and saw four men in black robes behind her. Their figures appeared even more sinister and eerie under the flashing lights, startling Shalana.

She instinctively cried out, backing away on all fours. "Who are you? Where am I?"

"Us? We are the four most important people in your life."

"And here? This is the stage, the finish line, the dining table... We can't wait."

A deep, chilling voice seemed to come from all directions, a terrifying whisper that sent shivers down one's spine. The man said, "Now, reunite with your first old friend."

Shalana saw the black-robed figure on the far left and took a step forward.

He pulled back his hood and mask.

His face, scarred and covered in a thick beard, was revealed, his smile revealing a cruel and sinister expression.

Shalana froze, then her eyes darted around violently, her wrinkled, aged face contorted in agony, and she suddenly let out a scream that was not human, "Aaaaaaahhhhhh!"

The woman lunged forward like a leopard, but her battered body was weak and powerless. Two large, iron-like hands slammed her to the ground, and the scarred man pressed down on her, grinning cruelly. "What's wrong, you bitch? Do you miss the pleasure of having poison injected into your veins, or the anticipation of playing Russia roulette?"

He laughed, grabbing the woman's hair. "By the way, when I let you bitches play Russia roulette for fun, I know what you were thinking. You were thinking, 'The bullet must hit me, kill me!' But it never hit you. Were you disappointed? Let me tell you the truth, even if you played ten thousand times, you wouldn't get killed, because that's what makes us happy!"

Shalana struggled violently, but the difference in physical strength was too great. She let out inhuman screams and roars, but she could do nothing, just like she had twenty years ago.

A bright future and beautiful years were frozen in that moment. After graduating from nursing school, she came to London to find work, only to fall into a dark trap. The man who pinned her down was the same criminal who had lured her there with a job posting. That was the beginning of a nightmare, a nightmare from which she could never escape.

The well-dressed ladies and gentlemen watched the play with great interest, showing no discomfort whatsoever, but rather anticipation. They looked at the program description in their hands; a mere sheet of paper was a summary and overview of Shalana's nearly forty years of life.

A caged bird, flying in despair in the darkness.

"After such a long separation, you two must have a lot to say, but Shalana, don't rush. You and Reese have plenty of time to spend together. Now, meet your second friend."

The second person walked up to Shalana, knelt down, and removed his mask.

"Shalana," he said, "Hello."

Upon hearing the familiar voice, the woman instinctively looked up, and then an incredulous astonishment flashed in her eyes, an astonishment that even surpassed the thrill and madness she felt upon seeing the human trafficker again.

She exclaimed, "Hank!"

The handsome man, offering his explanation, said with a smile, "This is your greatest benefactor. Aren't you going to smile at him? Shalana, in your most desperate and painful time, this kind guest accepted your plea and sent out your call for help. He has kept in touch with you, caring for you, helping you, and comforting you. You consider him family; he is the person you trust most in the world..."

He chuckled and said, "Tell me, Shalana, has there ever been, even just a little, or even in a dream—that you intended to marry this kind and benevolent gentleman?"

"Oh, come on, Gerard." The man named Hank chuckled. "That piece of rotten flesh, played with beyond recognition. I have to take three showers every time I see her."

Shalana froze, her mouth agape, her mind blank. She felt like she was in a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. She didn't know what expression to make, what to say...

"Then, the third one."

A third person came before her and removed their mask.

She was a woman with a sharply defined face, dressed in a neutral style, with a resolute expression and a dignified demeanor that inspired awe in anyone who looked at her, making one feel that she must be a great woman.

Shalana's eyes widened again, and she stammered, "The... President..."

"A woman, trafficked and forced to live a life of utter darkness in an underground brothel, is rescued one day. What will she do? Will she return to her hometown under an assumed name and marry a man who knows nothing of her past? Or will she feel hopelessly filthy and end her own life?"

The man chuckled, "Our Lady Shalana has decided to help girls who are also facing or in danger... Ah, that's truly, truly, so noble."

He made an exaggerated joke, then said, "Such a noble wish, of course we must help, Ms. Shalana. Don't you feel that your life has meaning? Don't you feel a great sense of accomplishment as a feminist? Don't you feel that helping others is equivalent to cleansing yourself?"

"Naive, so incredibly naive."

Shalana stared blankly at her most respected president, the leader of the organization, who was always full of energy, always full of love, always upright, always angry, and always fighting on the front lines.

She regards the president as a role model and benchmark in life, and wants to live a meaningful life like him...

But...

She murmured, "President... President..."

"I'm sorry, Shalana," the woman said softly, "It's all the master's task."

The man's laughter gradually turned malicious.

"Do you really think you're doing something great? Do you want me to tell you where the funding for women's rights organizations in the free world comes from? There are Middle East tycoons, Wall Street conglomerates, and even Mexico drug lords—damn, Mexico drug lords—so how could we not be included?"

He crouched down, laughing mockingly.

"Ultimately, you so-called feminists are nothing more than a useful tool. After all, in this day and age, the lowly think they can make their voices heard, but many methods are no longer effective. We need to use more sensible methods to achieve our goals..."

He gently flicked Shalana's forehead. "We really have to thank you. Your actions, demonstrations, protests, and disturbances have always helped us effectively suppress the government's decisions and inclinations..."

"So, Shalana, thank you."

"Thank you for making us so much money, and thank you for continuing to work voluntarily and diligently for us even after you were saved—now, I'll tell you who I am."

He removed his mask, revealing his true face.

The handsome face was unfamiliar to Shalana. The man named Gerard chuckled and said, "I'm J, your partner, your informant, your forever well-informed and resourceful friend."

"Otherwise, how would you have found the Viking Skull's hiding place? I only intended to fatten it up a bit, but the fruit I've cultivated for twenty years has almost ripened in just a few hours. What a pleasant surprise!"

Shalana went from shock and anger to struggle, from struggle to astonishment, from astonishment to fear, and from fear to despair.

His lifeless eyes gradually went numb, and his black despair was as deep as a pool of water.

She opened her mouth and let out a silent, agonizing scream.

An indescribable aura spread like the wind, seemingly resonating with something. The lights in the underground theater refracted and diffused, and whispers could be faintly heard from all directions, as an inexplicable energy field spread out.

No one was surprised. The men and women present showed expressions of delight, and they all stood up at the same time, their faces devout, their eyes filled with anticipation as they looked at Shalana.

Gerard muttered, "Yes, that's it, that's it, no... not quite there."

He reached out to the human trafficker, who understood and handed him a gleaming revolver. Gerard spun the revolver a few times in his hand, smiled slightly, placed the gun on the ground, and pushed it towards him.

"Don't you miss it?"

Gerard laughed, "Same old rules, only one bullet, guaranteed to fire, only one bullet, and you can decide who to shoot—the one who ruined you, the one who lied to you, the one who used you, the one who manipulated you."

"Or..."

He said in a deep voice, "You yourself."

The traffickers released the woman, Shalana stared blankly at the firearms so close at hand—it was a nightmare.

The traffickers who used to control her and force her to entertain clients have lost their moral compass and now make fun of the girls. Their most common method is Russia roulette, where the girls shoot at themselves one by one, and the traffickers laugh at their fear for their own amusement.

Shalana prayed every time that it would be her turn, but it never happened; it was always the same.

And now, it has come before me once again.

Shalana slowly reached out, gripped the handle, and suddenly raised the gun, aiming it at Gerard.

Prepare to pull the trigger.

--But in that instant, a swift black shadow rushed out from behind Gerard. Before Shalana's finger could even touch the trigger, her wrist was kicked. With a crack, the woman's fragile arm twisted and broke. A sharp pain shot through her, and she screamed as she was kicked in the chest, vomiting blood and falling backward.

The attacker stopped; he was a thin boy with disheveled hair hanging down his face, a sinister expression, and a scalpel in his hand. He walked towards Shalana.

"Alright, now is not the time."

The boy was stopped and stepped aside.

The woman's body contorted in agony.

"Haha, what a pity."

Gerard stood up and chuckled, "The weak always pray that the strong will follow the rules and abide by them; only humans have such a ridiculous and absurd idea..."

"What a pity." He looked down at her. "I am your rule, Shalana. Twenty years as a caged bird, you have finally flown under our control. Now, all your information has been erased. Soon, no one in this world will know you ever lived. Everything you did will be meaningless..."

"And now, the game begins."

Under the woman's pained gaze, several men in black robes slowly approached her.

Just like the hopeless fate she couldn't resist twenty years ago.

She closed her eyes, and her heart gradually shut itself off.

--Yes, that's it.

Are you angry? Are you afraid? Stubborn flower, you never fall, you never give us what we want, but the despairing fruit released when a steadfast and pure heart falls is all the sweeter. So, bloom... Shalana, bloom...

Gerard's eyes were filled with anticipation.

The air seemed to distort, and the whispers from all directions were incredibly deep. The onlookers all showed expressions of joy, closing their eyes to breathe, their faces filled with rapture.

All pleasure originates from the desperate ants on earth.

Gerard gazed with satisfaction at the transformation before him; this was the work he was pleased with and had been looking forward to.

It's almost here... it's almost here...

"Huh?"

The next moment, he showed surprise, because within Shalana's desperate soul, a stubborn light shone, dazzling and burning, protecting her tormented heart.

That was the remnant of some kind of power.

But...

"What is this? What's going on? Where did this come from?"

Gerard was taken aback. He grabbed the woman. "No, this wasn't here when we set off... Could it be... Hey! What did you see before you passed out? What did you see in the hideout?"

"I..."

A faint smile appeared on Shalana's pained and numb face, "I dreamt of angels..."

"The light was soft, warm, and peaceful. The voice resonated in my heart, relieving my worries and anxieties. It was the best sleep I've had in twenty years."

China Embassy

The curtains were drawn tightly shut, and medical instruments monitored various physiological data. In a guest room on the third floor of the embassy, An Youyi lay on the bed, her sleeping face occasionally flashing with pain.

Outside the door, Kang De shook hands with a gray-haired, very energetic gentleman.

"Mr. Ambassador, thank you for your trouble."

"Of course, it's my duty."

The ambassador to the UK looked at the young man with curiosity. He had heard a little about this man's background and reputation. Although his superiors had not explained things very clearly, he had a vague guess that the mess that happened at the American Empire embassy today was probably related to this man.

--Good, young comrade, you have a lot of drive.

Kang De pointed to the room. "How is she?"

The ambassador sighed, "It's not good. The British handed him over while he was unconscious. Initial examinations show he'd been given a large dose of anesthetic, but he's otherwise unharmed and hasn't suffered any serious injuries."

"That's the strangest thing—all her vital signs were normal, but she inexplicably developed a high fever and was talking nonsense. We took some measures to alleviate the symptoms, but the embassy's medical capabilities were limited, and it wasn't convenient to send her to the United Kingdom hospital. Miss You was also given anesthesia, didn't have this problem."

The ambassador to the UK paused for a moment, then said, "... They said back home they were waiting for you to arrive, so we don't need to rush to take the medicine."

Kang De nodded. "I understand."

He pushed open the door and entered. The tidy room was filled with a pleasant fragrance. An Youyi had her eyes closed, her body was twisting and turning, and she was muttering incoherently in rapid, hurried words.

The Phoenix Eyes flickered with firelight, and Kang De frowned, saying, "The energy level is increasing..."

The ambassador behind him exclaimed in surprise, "What?"

Kang De came to the bedside, sat on the edge of the bed, pulled back the quilt, and took An Youyi's hand out.

Her small hands were warm and wet, and she reflexively gripped Kang De's hand tightly.

Kang De looked up and said, "Mr. Ambassador, would you mind if I excused myself for a moment? It's not convenient."

The ambassador paused for a moment, then slapped his forehead and chuckled, "I apologize for being so forward. Just call me if you need anything."

He left the room, closing the door behind him. Kang De withdrew his gaze, his brow furrowing slightly. "An Youyi is also awakening... her situation is very similar to Ian's."

Iron Son said, "Oh, it's going to explode."

"That's not quite it... Her situation is different from Ian's; her transformation and surge in mental strength is the only one that's truly remarkable."

"--Her perception was doubling, and this had been going on for a long time, including while she was unconscious. In other words, during her coma, her mental strength surged continuously, passively and completely absorbing a large amount of information from her surroundings. This information hadn't been processed in time and was piling up in her mental sea..."

"You seem to know a lot about this."

"You'll understand as Extraction essence."

The more the Fire Thief uses his Extraction ability, the stronger it becomes. With both use and absorption, his mental strength rises accordingly. Kang De has devoured many living beings alive so far, even faced the impact of the Sound of Doomsday, and made a pact with the Dragon Girl. His mental strength is incredibly resilient. You'll understand this principle once you put it into practice.

Kang De closed his eyes, communicating through a spiritual connection. "I'll help her filter and clear it out... Okay, clearing away all this mess, that's quite a persistent idea. Let me see..."

Just then, An Youyi, who had been writhing unconsciously, shut her mouth, her incoherent babbling stopped abruptly. The next moment, she suddenly sat up and shouted, "Horse farm!"

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PS1: Update... Ah, this took a long time to write.

PS2: Also, I know what you're all eager to see, and I'm eager to write that part too, but foreshadowing, setup, and logic still need to be there... So, I'll try to get to that in the next chapter.