I'm Sorry

A flood of question marks filled the tracker's mind. He pulled out his phone and sent a WeChat message, then pretended to be strolling as he walked in. He paid fifteen yuan for a wristband and pushed open the locker room door.

A wave of damp, hot steam washed over him.

Between several rows of lockers, naked men walked around changing clothes, but Huai Shi wasn't inside. He only managed to see the rubber curtain leading to the bathing area move before someone had already gone through.

Suppressing his confusion and anxiety, he acted calm, opened a locker, stripped, and headed towards the bathing area.

When he lifted the rubber curtain, amidst the steam that rushed at him, he saw the expressionless youth, his clothes completely intact.

He froze on the spot.

What the hell?

"Why are you following me?" Huai Shi asked directly.

"...What did you say?"

The muscular man's expression twitched. Soon, his expression turned confused, as if he didn't understand at all. He waved his hand impatiently, "Can you move aside?"

"Sorry, I can't."

Huai Shi sighed, then took a step forward.

Bang!

The tracker's vision went black, and only then did he hear the heavy sound of a fist hitting his face. His feet slipped, and he fell backward onto the ground.

"I asked you—"

Huai Shi squatted beside him, looking down at his face, and repeated his earlier question: "Why are you following me?"

"Damn it..."

The burly man was furious and raised his arm to slap him. But as soon as his arm went up, his vision went black again.

Huai Shi threw a punch with all his might.

Bang!

Under the astonished gazes of those changing clothes, Huai Shi reached out, grabbed the man by his hair, and yanked his head up. He dragged him, pulling him into the locker room, and violently smashed his head against a locker.

Once, twice, thrice!

Until a huge dent appeared on the thin metal locker, the man struggled with all his might, but he couldn't break free from Huai Shi's grip.

One last time, he asked:

"—Why are you following me!"

"Go to hell!"

In excruciating pain, the tracker cursed and kicked his leg towards Huai Shi. Ignoring the fact that his hair was being ripped out, he seized the moment Huai Shi let go, scrambled to his feet, and bolted.

He didn't fight back, but instead ran straight towards the exit of the locker room.

With a bang, the cheap plywood door was smashed to pieces. The long spring attached to the door handle whipped him, leaving a bloody gash.

He almost crashed into the counter.

Amidst the startled screams of the middle-aged woman at the counter, he grabbed the shower baskets on the counter and threw them at the pursuing youth. Then, without even a towel, he rushed out of the bathhouse and ran with all his might...

Huai Shi pursued him with all his might.

The tables had turned.

Now, the tracker, not even wearing slippers, was sprinting down the street naked, while Huai Shi followed closely behind, refusing to let go.

Ignoring the strange feeling and pain of his bare feet on the ground, and amidst the screams of passing women, he ran like a wild dog that had broken loose.

Whether he had sacrificed his dignity for strength or liberated himself under the gaze of dozens of phone cameras, the guy's speed actually increased again. Huai Shi found it difficult to keep up for a while.

Until he finally couldn't run anymore and was cornered by Huai Shi in an alley. He stumbled backward, gasping for breath, and found there was no longer any retreat behind him.

"Why are you following me?"

Huai Shi stood at the alley entrance, watching him calmly. "Are you going to make this quick, or should I find the answer myself?"

"I don't know..."

The naked tracker leaned against the wall, struggling to catch his breath. "I don't know what you're talking about..."

"Looks like it's the second option then."

Huai Shi was silent for a moment, then looked up at him. "Honestly, I don't want to do this."

At that moment, the sound of cracking knuckles suddenly echoed through the alley.

Immediately after, the tracker saw a dark shadow rapidly enlarge before his eyes. Under the trampling of those old leather shoes, the stone bricks of the alley suddenly caved in, squeezing out the foul sewage from below.

And Huai Shi was already close.

Bang!

The tracker suddenly bent over, feeling as if his insides were being squeezed out of his mouth. His bare feet were almost lifted off the ground, and the arms he raised to block were thrown aside by the violent impact.

Without waiting for him to regain his footing, the descending fist transformed from a fist into a palm, pushing his face backward, backward, and backward, until... Bang!

His head slammed against the wall.

He instinctively tried to bend over, to curl up, but then he felt a chill between his legs. In the whistling wind, something kicked him right between the thighs.

A strange yelp.

His eyeballs nearly popped out of his face.

"Die!"

Amidst the searing pain, his face contorted. Dodging, he picked up a wine bottle from the ground, smashed it, and lunged it towards Huai Shi's neck.

But then, he felt a sharp pain in his wrist, his arm twisting at an unnatural angle. The wine bottle ended up impaled in his own thigh, blood gushing out like a fountain.

Only then did the sharp agony of his broken arm and gashed thigh erupt.

He screamed in terror, then felt a hand grip his neck, lifting him up and slamming him against the wall. Huai Shi stared at the distorted face, roaring a question:

"——Why were you following me!"

Silence descended abruptly.

The man suddenly stopped struggling. Looking at Huai Shi's enraged face, he seemed to find it amusing, as if he'd been entertained.

A smile spread across his twitching face, its meaning unclear – mockery or appeasement.

His lips trembled as he struggled to speak, as if confessing.

"I... wanted to get some money..."

Huai Shi fell silent, looking at the fraying cuff of his old suit and the worn leather shoes with split seams. He tried hard to believe the man's words, but in the end, he couldn't help but lower his eyes.

He slowly loosened his grip, letting the man collapse onto the ground. The man gasped for air, choked, and convulsed in pain.

"Fine,"

Huai Shi suddenly said, "I'll give you money."

The instant the man looked up in stunned disbelief, Huai Shi reached out and pressed down on his nose and mouth—then, he poured the valuable Calamity Ash into his mouth.

At that moment, as his fingers clamped shut, a piercing scream erupted from the closed mouth. The man convulsed violently, ignoring his injuries, struggling desperately on the ground.

An indescribable fear and sorrow surged into his body, ravaging his soul. Muffled voices continuously sounded from his throat, but Huai Shi held his mouth shut, preventing any release.

Until Huai Shi heard the screech of brakes from the alley entrance behind him. As a van door opened, several men wearing masks jumped out, blocking the alley entrance.

Their hands were tucked into their bulging chests. They remained silent, their malicious gazes fixed on the young man in the alley.

In the silence, Huai Shi finally released the stalker he was holding and slowly turned his head. Looking at the approaching group of ill-intentioned men, he finally understood why the other guy had led him into this place.

"It's him!"

As the stalker, still convulsing on the ground, pointed at Huai Shi, the man in the front pulled a large knife wrapped in a dark green cord from his chest. Immediately after, other controlled-use knives were also spotted.

Huai Shi was stunned, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"Doesn't anyone want to explain anything?" he asked, confused. "Like, it's perfectly reasonable for a car repair shop employee to carry controlled knives?"

A series of strange chuckles echoed from behind him.

"Someone... paid... to buy... to buy your life..."

Gasping and coughing with all his might, the man on the ground struggled to prop himself up with one hand. A cold sneer twisted his face. "Be smart, don't struggle... too much..."

Huai Shi fell silent, then lifted his foot and stomped down hard on the man's head.

Bang!

The man collapsed completely onto the ground, unmoving.

Huai Shi turned back, looking at the approaching men, and couldn't help but sigh, "It seems there's no way to resolve this peacefully, is there?"

No one responded.

In the dead silence, Huai Shi raised his hands, unbuttoned his jacket, and took off the suit that had been with him for some years. He folded it neatly and carefully placed it on a clean spot on the naked man lying on the ground.

Finally, he stood up, bent over, and bowed.

His attitude was sincere and humble.

"I apologize," he said. "I'm very sad because my friend has passed away."

"..."

In a moment of stunned silence, the men paused, almost wanting to laugh.

But then, they saw the young man slowly raise his head, looking at them with a blank expression. "So, if I do anything wrong later, I'll apologize here in advance—"

As he spoke, he slowly raised his hands, assuming a stance before his chest.

He unleashed the last of his pity from his heart towards his enemies.

—Roman Dagger Combat Technique LV6!

"It's still so quiet here."

The girl in the wheelchair sat in front of the desk, looking around. "It seems to have gotten bigger again."

This was the city library.

To be precise, this was the underground storage warehouse of the Municipal Library—under the glare of monotonous cold fluorescent lights, vast shelves stretched endlessly to the horizon, disappearing into unseen darkness.

Counting back, within the last sixty years, all periodicals, newspapers, official notices, and administrative regulations that had ever appeared in Xin Hai City… in short, everything that would be printed on paper and sold on the market was stored here as a backup.

Even the electronic versions were kept in the server room next door, ready for retrieval at any time.

While this was part of the Municipal Library's responsibilities, the exaggerated extent to which it was carried out was thanks to the man behind the desk, the current librarian of Xin Hai City, an Ascendant known as 'The Professor'.

It was indeed fitting to call him a professor; the man possessed so many degrees that he himself had lost count—after all, his greatest hobby was to stay holed up in this vast, deeply buried warehouse, reading books.

He wouldn't move even if he died.