Integration

Bai Ye's darkly humorous "greeting" had barely faded when dense, orderly footsteps and engine noise rose outside the factory.

Led by Captain Wang, the Special Affairs Bureau's main force quickly poured in, securing every entrance, exit, and key position.

The follow-up search, evidence collection, and medical teams came in right after, efficiently clearing the scene, preserving evidence, and treating the wounded.

Scarface King's shoulder blade and arm had been badly damaged by Bai Ye's seemingly casual yet precisely controlled shot. Blood loss, coupled with the lingering pain of the spiritual power's burning effect, had completely robbed him of any ability to resist.

Before long, two burly Operations Department agents hauled him up like a dead dog, fitted him with specially made suppression shackles, and roughly dragged him away.

The core members of his gang who had been lucky enough not to be taken down by Sun Haoran and Zhao Tiezhu during the melee were also cuffed one by one and escorted away with their heads hanging.

The noisy, chaotic factory was gradually replaced by the Special Affairs Bureau's efficient, professional rhythm.

Hua Yin leaned against an oil drum, his eyes closed in concentration.

The tiny phantom of the Pale Bewitching Butterfly within him had dimmed somewhat from the earlier expenditure and injuries, but its wings still beat steadily.

He split off a thread of his consciousness and guided the spiritual energy drawn from the Spirit Stones in his storage ring, mixing it with the Pale Bewitching Butterfly's healing power before slowly sending it toward the fracture in his left arm.

He could clearly "see" inside his body as the broken bone ends, enveloped in spiritual power, were precisely stripped of their misaligned portions. The intact bones were then guided into a better alignment, growing and knitting back together.

The process came with numb itching and faint pricks of pain, but it was far faster than natural healing.

At the same time, the damaged internal organs and capillaries shaken by the impact were rapidly repaired beneath that gentle yet effective healing power.

Wherever the spiritual power flowed, the burning pain was gradually replaced by cool comfort.

About ten minutes later, Hua Yin slowly opened his eyes.

He moved his left arm. It was still a little sore and weak, but the bones had fully reconnected, and movement was no longer a problem.

The discomfort in his internal organs had mostly disappeared as well.

Bracing himself against the ground, he rose unsteadily to his feet.

"Hua Yin! How are you?"

Sun Haoran noticed him getting up immediately and hurried over.

The gash across his back had already received emergency treatment from one of the accompanying medics, but his face was still somewhat pale.

Zhao Tiezhu also came over. The mangled flesh on his knuckles had been roughly treated and wrapped in bandages, but judging from the way he bared his teeth, he was clearly not feeling great either.

He looked Hua Yin up and down and said in a deep, muffled voice, "Kid, are your bones okay? That crack earlier sounded nasty."

Seeing the undisguised concern in their eyes, Hua Yin felt a faint warmth in his heart.

He shook his head. "I'm fine. The bone's set. What about you two?"

"Just flesh wounds. Won't kill us."

Sun Haoran grinned, tugging at the wound on his back and making him suck in a breath from the pain.

Zhao Tiezhu waved his bandaged fist. "This little injury is nothing! But that Scarface guy was strong as hell!"

Hua Yin watched them put on a brave face but said nothing more.

He raised his right hand again. This time, the pale glow gathering in his palm was warmer. It no longer carried the sharp, icy chill it had held during battle, but instead radiated a life-filled gentleness.

"Don't move."

He spoke to Sun Haoran as he held his palm over the bandaged area on Sun Haoran's back.

Several even tinier pale light-butterflies floated out, their glow exceptionally pure as they silently slipped beneath the bandages.

Sun Haoran felt a cool, soothing sensation spread through the wound on his back. The burning pain quickly faded, replaced by the faint itch of flesh regenerating.

Though he could not see it, he could still feel the changes brought about by the wound healing rapidly.

Then Hua Yin did the same for Zhao Tiezhu.

Zhao Tiezhu's eyes widened as a faint, soft pale light seeped through the gaps in the bandages around his knuckles. The piercing pain then diminished and vanished at an astonishing speed.

He flexed his fingers. They were still a little stiff, but he was clearly out of danger.

"Holy shit..."

Feeling that the wound on his back had nearly healed, Sun Haoran could not help exclaiming in amazement.

"Hua Yin, this healing of yours... you're faster than the Bureau's best medics! Taking you along on missions would be like having an extra life!"

Zhao Tiezhu also gave Hua Yin's uninjured shoulder a hard pat and laughed gruffly. "Good kid! Why didn't you say you could do this sooner? From now on, we'll be relying on you whenever we get hurt!"

There was no jealousy or calculation in their voices, only the purest relief, gratitude, and closeness between comrades.

That open, fervent, sincere goodwill was like a warm tide, gently lapping against Hua Yin's heart, which had become somewhat closed off from long loneliness.

Looking at the genuine smiles on their faces and the unfeigned approval in their eyes, the cold indifference that had long shrouded Hua Yin's face melted slightly, like a lake brushed by a spring breeze.

For the first time, a faint but genuine smile appeared at the corner of his lips.

It was still slight, but it softened his entire presence.

"Mm."

He answered softly without saying anything more, but his acceptance and response were already unmistakably clear.

For the first time, he understood so clearly that he was not merely an "S-rank unstable factor" to be monitored and assessed, nor was he the "deadweight" who had been ignored and excluded.

Here, in the Special Affairs Bureau, in this small Operations Department team, he was White Butterfly. He was a companion who could fight shoulder to shoulder with them, entrust his back to them, and heal one another...

That realization quietly loosened a corner of his heart that had always been tightly wound.

"Enough. Stop flattering each other."

Captain Wang's voice came from nearby. He walked over with the relaxed air of a mission completed, though there was still a trace of seriousness on his face. "Hua Yin, are you sure your injuries are no longer a problem?"

"No problem, Captain Wang."

Hua Yin nodded.

"Good. The three of you did well on this operation, especially at the critical moment..."

Captain Wang glanced at Bai Ye, who was absentmindedly playing with the grip of the weapon that had reverted to a short gun.

"Your adaptability and persistence both deserve recognition. Write your reports properly when we get back, especially the assessment of Scarface King's strength and the makeup of his gang. Bai Ye, thanks."

Bai Ye waved a hand, looking as though it had been nothing.

"Pack up!" Captain Wang ordered.

Everyone began withdrawing in an orderly fashion.

Hua Yin followed behind Sun Haoran and Zhao Tiezhu, listening as they excitedly discussed the details of the battle. He chimed in from time to time. Though he still did not speak much, the feeling of belonging had quietly taken root.

At the same time, inside an apartment building.

Qing Wuyan sat cross-legged on the carpet in his bedroom. An intense virtual racing game was playing on the large-screen television before him, and the controller in his hands clicked rapidly beneath his fingers.

He wore his usual excited expression whenever he was immersed in a game, endlessly muttering, "Overtake!" and "Nitro boost!"

Just then, the screen of the phone charging beside him suddenly lit up. An encrypted message from an unknown number, with no contact name attached, popped up.

The format was extremely simple. There was not even any punctuation, only a single line:

[Scarface King arrested Northern District factory Special Affairs Bureau operation]

In the game, Qing Wuyan's race car was making a flashy drift around a corner and was about to cross the finish line.

His gaze seemed entirely fixed on the screen, but the fingers gripping the controller paused ever so slightly the instant he saw the message.

The next second, the race car made a tiny mistake, scraped the guardrail, and crossed the finish line in second place.

"Tch, what a shame."

Qing Wuyan put down the controller and casually picked up his phone, opening the message for a glance.

Then the corners of his lips slowly curved upward.

It was not his usual cheerful, careless smile, nor was it the excited grin he had worn while gaming. It was something deeper and harder to read, a smile as though everything was already under his control.

That smile held a trace of amusement, a trace of satisfaction, and a trace of cold calculation.

With a slight movement of his finger, the message was permanently deleted in an instant, leaving no trace behind.

Leaning back into his beanbag chair, Qing Wuyan looked out at Youcheng's nightscape. Beneath the shifting glow of the neon lights outside, his eyes flickered between light and shadow.

His fingers unconsciously tapped lightly against the edge of his phone, the rhythm faintly matching the tempo with which he had tapped the table in the noodle shop before.

" The plan..."

His lips moved soundlessly, forming two nearly inaudible words. Then the smile on his face deepened.

"Has begun."

The brilliant city lights outside concealed the flash of depth and coldness in the young man's eyes, utterly at odds with his age.

The game-over music echoed through the room. Qing Wuyan stretched, and his carefree, dazzling smile returned as though none of it had ever happened.

He picked up the controller and skillfully selected "Restart Race."

The roar of a new round of engines filled the room once more.

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