A Tragedy

After putting on the mask, the hoodlum Zheng Long could clearly feel a chilling current flowing into his body through the mask. He clenched his fists, making a series of crisp cracking sounds, and felt his body instantly become a level stronger. "This is an extraordinary encounter! I really am the protagonist!"

Zheng Long, who reads novels all the time, immediately understood and thought of the "common man is innocent" theory mentioned in most novels. So he immediately took off the mask, took off his short-sleeved shirt, covered the mask with it, and walked out of the toilet shirtless.

After saying goodbye to his underlings and brothers, he immediately went home and began to study the mask's abilities. He discovered that after putting on the mask, a cold current would flow into his body, enhancing his physical attributes, but not by much.

Shadow Magic is not battle qi or internal energy. Its main function is to serve as an energy source to unleash various skills. Zheng Long, being somewhat immature, was naturally not satisfied with only a slight increase in physical attributes, so he began various studies. He first attempted to control that cold aura, but failed decisively. No matter how much Zheng Long tried to manipulate it with his mind, the Shadow Magic remained unchanged.

He spent the next few hours in experiments, until late at night when Zheng Long's loud laughter suddenly came from inside the house. "Hahaha, I really am the protagonist!"

Feeling refreshed, Zheng Long then noticed several missed calls and text messages on his phone, which was charging in the living room. Seeing that they were from his younger brother, he called them back. Although he was called his younger brother, they both knew in their hearts that they were children who grew up in the same neighborhood and had played together for more than ten years. Calling them brothers wouldn't be an exaggeration.

"Hey, Ah De? What's the matter that you're calling me so urgently?" Zheng Long asked casually. These brothers always invited him to go to karaoke or have late-night snacks together, and he guessed this time was no different. But the next moment, his expression changed.

Rapid breathing and screams of agony came from the other end of the phone. Ah De's voice, distorted, cried out as he answered, "Brother, save me... there's a monster!"

"Hello? Stop messing with me, Ah De!" Zheng Long looked at his constantly ringing phone, a bad feeling rising in his heart. He quickly grabbed the phone and ran outside, but halfway there he immediately turned back, slung a large shoulder bag over his shoulder, put the mask inside, checked the text messages on his phone, and then immediately rode his motorcycle out the door.

Several text messages invited him to go out for late-night snacks, as did the first few missed calls. However, the last call was abruptly ended after the other party waited for a long time. He quickly rode his motorcycle to their usual spot for late-night snacks.

The wailing sirens intensified his premonition. Before he even reached his destination, he saw a secluded spot that was usually deserted, now crowded with onlookers in their pajamas, holding palm-leaf fans. Zheng Long suppressed all his thoughts, stopped the car, and ran over.

All sorts of nonsensical language flooded into Zheng Long's mind:

"I heard they were just a few thugs; they died a horrible death."

"Isn't it written on the wall: 'Thugs must die'? I think these hooligans who always act like slackers have messed with someone."

"These hooligans do nothing all day; it would be better if they all died."

"These thugs were really stupid. The police said they had a chance to make a phone call before they died, but instead of calling the police, they called their boss."

"Thugs, aren't they all like that? They think they're so great, looking down on the police. They care about face, why would they call the police?"

Pushing through the crowd, Zheng Long squeezed to the edge of the alley. Under the lamplight, his bloodshot eyes could clearly see that the alley was covered in blood, along with some dismembered limbs and fragments. On the nearby whitewashed wall, several large characters were written in blood, "Thugs must die!"

Several bodies covered with white sheets were pushed into hospital ambulances. A hand covered in blood slid off the stretcher, and a bracelet with a large "D" on its wrist was attached.

Tears streamed down his face instantly. Hearing the sneers and whispers of the surrounding crowd, Zheng Long turned around and roared furiously, "You fucking shut up!"

"They're my brothers, they're not stupid!" Zheng Long roared frantically. He knew why they hadn't called the police—wasn't it because his older brother had said before that calling the police would be embarrassing, and his foolish brother had actually believed it? He kept crying out, "They're not stupid, they're really not stupid..."

The onlookers were startled by Zheng Long's outburst, and then, adhering to the principle of not causing trouble, they stopped talking and took a step back. The commotion also attracted the attention of the police.

Half an hour later, at the Metropolitan Police Department, Zheng Long sat at a table with red eyes. Two policemen sat in front of him. He was looking down and fiddling with an L-shaped bracelet on his wrist, seemingly lost in thought.

"Mr. Zheng, right? The victim, Li De, called you several times before he was murdered. Judging from the timeline, you called him back at the very end, and the call connected for a few seconds. Did he say anything to you?" a middle-aged policeman asked.

"He said, he said, 'Brother, save me, there's a monster!'" Zheng Long raised his head, wiped his nose, and under police questioning, recounted what had happened. Finally, he stammered, somewhat incoherently, "Officer, I... brother, who killed them? Which bastard did it?"

The middle-aged policeman looked at Zheng Long, pondered for a moment, and said, "According to the surveillance footage from a distance, the victims were planning to cross the crime scene to get a late-night snack. From another surveillance camera, we can see a person carrying a backpack and wearing a black mask walking into the alley from the other end."

"Our police suspect that the victim and the suspect had a conflict in the alley, which led to the brutal murder. The suspicious point is how the person wearing the Black Face killed four people taller than himself and prevented them from escaping."

"Wearing Black Face?" Zheng Long suddenly looked up and asked in surprise.

"What? Do you remember seeing this person before?" the other police officer asked, thinking there was a new lead.

Zheng Long shook his head, his hand unconsciously gripping the bracelet on his left wrist. His eyes were filled with self-blame and guilt. His mind was filled with Ah De's dying screams. Although he knew the outcome, he still asked, "Police, if they hadn't called me in the end, but instead called the police, could you have saved them?"

"Based on the scene and existing clues, Li De made a phone call before he was murdered. His phone was knocked away, and he kept dialing your number. When you called back, he had just crawled to the phone, injured, and answered. His call was forcibly disconnected a few seconds later. The entire process wasn't long. His location was quite remote; if someone hadn't happened to be passing by, we might not have discovered him until the next day." The middle-aged policeman sighed and said, "So, there's no need to blame yourself too much..."

As Zheng Long walked out of the Metropolitan Police Department, he clutched the mask in his backpack, his gaze resolute. "A monster? You just wait..."