The city at night had been like iron, cold and hard. Its buildings stood in icy silence, lights flickering, without a single star visible overhead.
But the sudden downpour softened that cold hardness, shrouding all the neon in a haze.
Qi Yuan swore viciously. "This fucking weather."
He sheltered from the rain outside a twenty-four-hour convenience store. Watching the downpour grow heavier, he decided to go back inside and buy an umbrella rather than soak his expensive leather jacket, only to be told they had sold out.
His eyes grew increasingly hostile, and Qi Yuan unleashed a torrent of abuse. "Damn Wei Yunmo, where the hell did that brat run off to? I kept him fed and comfortable, and he still had to run away! Ungrateful little shit!"
Suppressing his temper, he checked the trail detected on his phone. It led to one of the smaller cities surrounding this metropolis. He should be able to find him soon.
The laboratory was pressing him hard.
He did not dare waste another night. Qi Yuan pulled his clothes tighter around himself and stepped into the downpour.
The rain had scattered the young people out chasing nightlife. Streets once bustling with traffic were cold and deserted, with only the merciless rain flowing freely.
As he walked on, Qi Yuan suddenly stopped.
He drew the pistol at his waist and whipped around. "Who's there? Come out!"
His answer was a cold sensation in his chest, followed by excruciating pain. He realized a bullet had pierced him, and blood was pouring from his heart through the wound.
Who was it?
Another familiar, muffled gunshot rang out. Qi Yuan saw a man holding a black umbrella a short distance away, a Glock gleaming coldly.
Qi Yuan's last thought was to wonder when he had offended someone like that. Who had paid to have him killed?
I killed someone.
Umbrella in hand, Xie De quickly left the scene. With 455 around, any surveillance footage showing him would be edited out, and even passersby would see him only indistinctly. He had left no clues, either. With current technology, the police probably could not discover that he was the killer.
This rain is so cold.
Xie De walked a long way, feeling his fingertips turn cold and his clothes grow soaked with rain. Holding his umbrella, he strolled along a river in the city.
An inexplicable thought surfaced in his mind. None of this feels real.
A gun was probably the most convenient tool for killing. There was no need to make a point of getting close; he could kill someone from dozens of meters away.
In rain this heavy, he could make out little more than the victim's outline. Xie De had not even clearly seen the bullet blow through the man's head before he fell to the ground, as though he had simply tripped.
It made the killing feel utterly unreal.
It also made the scene seem like a hallucination, leaving him unable to help wondering whether he had really killed someone in the real world.
455 was still roaming through the city's surveillance system and could not be reached for the moment.
Raindrops struck the river's surface.
As Xie De watched, an inexplicably mundane thought popped into his head. Where am I going to sleep tonight?
Everything had been so rushed, and he had arrived in such a hurry that he had not booked a hotel at all. The nearby hotels all required reservations.
Wait, am I going to have to sit out here in this downpour all night?
He took out his phone and checked it. Only ten percent of the battery remained. It probably would not last until he got home.
Uh, stop getting carried away. Go see if there's a power bank somewhere first.
He was just about to look for a convenience store.
A familiar sound of panting came from behind him. The man seemed to have run a long way, fast and urgently. When he reached Xie De, rain had almost soaked him through, yet his face was still as gentle as jade, his presence as open and invigorating as a sweeping breeze.
"Mr. 39, long time no see!"
Wei Yanchi? What's he doing here? 455 never said the protagonist was in this city.
Wei Yanchi had no umbrella. He swept his hair back and held a hand above his eyes, smiling brightly. "Could I invite you over to my place for a while? Please, there's something about the Instance I'd like to discuss with you."
Xie De hesitantly nodded. Surely the protagonist would not hurt him for no reason. He could take shelter from the rain at his place, too.
Then he remembered that 455 had said the protagonist was from the south.
Wei Yanchi did not actually live in this city. He had merely been invited here to perform an exorcism for a family.
They were newly risen members of the elite. In recent years, they had paid an enormous price to bring back a Fortune-Bearing Buddha Mother from the South Seas and worship her. They had thought she would ensure their business prospered, never imagining that they had brought home an evil entity. Now, the better their business did, the worse their health became.
As of today, two members of their family had died, three had developed cancer, and everyone else had been plagued by illnesses and misfortunes of varying severity.
Driven to desperation, they had begged anyone and everyone for help before finally finding Wei Yanchi.
Wei Yanchi had arrived before three that afternoon. First, he had gone to the main residence to examine the Fortune-Bearing Buddha Mother and gain a general understanding of the situation. After determining that they had likely brought home some sort of spirit associated with snakes and rats, he immediately instructed the head of the family to buy a large, red-combed rooster at least five years old, along with a purebred five-black dog at least ten years old.
Neither was easy to find, but Wei Yanchi was in no hurry. Mentally working through the exorcism, he stretched and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out over the entire city.
It was already nine in the evening.
The downpour seemed ready to overturn the entire city, making it impossible to see very far.
Wei Yanchi leisurely poured himself a cup of Longjing tea. Before he could take a sip, he caught the scent of blood in the air, faint and thin, carrying a trace of resentment from a soul.
He understood clearly where that bloody scent came from. Someone nearby had met a violent death.
His movements paused. Curious, Wei Yanchi went to the hotel entrance and looked outside. He was no policeman, and this was not his business, but if he happened to see the killer with his own eyes, he could still be a helpful citizen and assist the police with their investigation.
His eyesight was excellent, and with that keen vision, he looked out.
Through the layers of hazy rain, he caught a fleeting glimpse of a retreating figure beneath a black umbrella, as stunning as when they had first met.
39?!
Wei Yanchi had no time to grab an umbrella. He chased straight after him, terrified that he would disappear from sight. He ran fast, and fortunately, Mr. 39 did not suddenly vanish.
The river on the ground surged beside them, while the river in the sky poured down from above. In the hazy darkness, streetlights cast wavering pools of dim yellow light.
That light spilled over the smooth, rain-slick surface of the black umbrella.
His long silver hair was like a waterfall, like mist. With his gaze lowered, 39 watched the river at his feet with a touch of melancholy, alone and solitary.
He called out, "Mr. 39."
39 raised his eyes toward him. Where was there even a trace of melancholy? He was clearly a lone wolf savoring the darkness, the vivid scent of blood and gunsmoke impossible for the downpour to wash away.
Cold and aloof.
Yet he was no flower atop a lonely peak.
He was the bitter wind of the distant northern lands, cold enough to freeze a person to death.
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