AP CH10

“Oh Heaven, why is my life so bitter!”

Huai Shi threw his head back and let out a miserable wail, a cry of utter despair tearing from his throat as he burst into uncontrollable sobs, tears streaming down his face… At the same time, two other hoarse, sorrowful cries rose to join his:

“Juan’er, Daddy has failed you!”

“Mother, your unfilial son cannot even see you off on your final journey…”

Under the terrifying effect of this tear-inducing ash—like some kind of spiritual tear gas—the two burly men who had broken into the house were now bawling their eyes out, snot and tears running together in a pitiful mess.

Through the tears, the three of them locked eyes for a moment, as if realizing the cruelness of the world, as if sensing in each other the same bitter loneliness. A fleeting feeling of mutual understanding stirred in their hearts… As if!

Even if they had lost their mothers, their daughters, or suffered a lifetime of bad luck, the work they came to do still had to be finished. The job was not done yet.

After wiping away their tears and snot, the two bawling thugs suddenly lunged forward, and the three of them tangled into a chaotic scuffle. Like chickens pecking at each other in the dirt, they pulled hair, slapped faces, kicked below the belt, and twisted each other’s pinky fingers while crying all the while.

And as he cried, Huai Shi truly started to sob in earnest.

It fucking hurt.

…

…

“Dammit, can’t you guys go easy on me?!”

He bawled as he punched the man below him in the eye. The scar-faced man raised his tear-soaked face and suddenly bit down hard on Huai Shi’s arm. Meanwhile, the other man took the chance to grab Huai Shi’s hair and, still weeping, blindly pounded on him.

“Lao Liu! Kill him!” the man pinned under Huai Shi gasped between sobbing breaths. “Kill him now!”

Behind Huai Shi, Lao Liu choked out an answer through his tears, then swung his fist with all his strength at the back of Huai Shi’s head. A flash of black filled Huai Shi’s vision, and he collapsed, stunned.

In the next instant, from the corner of his eye, Huai Shi saw Lao Liu pull out a short-barreled shotgun and point it straight at his face.

Lao Liu, weeping miserably, aimed the gun, flicked off the safety, and, still sobbing, slipped his finger onto the trigger.

Huai Shi heard only a dull thud.

Then he saw Lao Liu’s head explode.

In an instant, hard and soft bits—red, white, and all shades in between—splattered like rain, falling in a puddle around him, with several stray droplets landing on Huai Shi’s stunned face.

He was so shocked he couldn’t even keep crying.

As the headless corpse slowly toppled to the floor, Huai Shi finally saw the girl standing at the stairwell.

Ai Qing leaned slantwise against the wall, supporting herself with a cane. The dust from the banister and wall had left gray streaks on her white dress.

In her other hand, hanging at her side, was a gun.

Faint wisps of smoke curled up from the muzzle.

“That was fast. They took the bait already.”

She glanced at the man struggling beneath Huai Shi and then stepped aside from the stairway entrance. “Leave one alive.”

From the steps behind her, Liu Dongli approached, his expression complicated. He glanced deeply at Ai Qing and felt a chill run down his back.

He had never expected Ai Qing’s gambit to hinge on Huai Shi.

On the way here, with Ai Qing dragging him along, he’d finally figured out what was going on: everyone assumed that after the criminals attacked the police station, they would lay low and disappear with the border relic, avoiding attention.

But Ai Qing had a different opinion.

Her reasoning was the discovery of several new corpses that morning—gruesome, like the others, but showing clear signs of interrogation and torture.

Those victims had suffered immense pain before dying.

Buried under all the horrific deaths, this clue had gone unnoticed by most.

But looking at the other corpses, one could see the killer’s methods—cruel but efficient, quick, and never wasting time on unnecessary things.

Even if the murderer had a strong sadistic streak, there was no way they’d waste time like this—Ascenders were not invincible, especially not here in the harsh conditions of the current world. Even those with high-level Stigmata couldn’t act with impunity.

If they left clues and brought the Astronomical Society’s pursuit upon themselves, the consequences would be fatal.

So why bother torturing people after the relic was already in their hands?

Was it not enough bodies yet?

An internal purge? Settling scores? Or was this a completely unrelated case?

Among countless possibilities, one explanation edged closer to the truth:

—They hadn’t found what they wanted yet.

Besides the relic in the box, something else had gone missing. Even after recovering the box, they wouldn’t give up.

And if that was the case, their next target was likely a certain person…

The informant—the first person who had found the box.

Huai Shi…

With nothing but this useless card in her hand, Ai Qing dared to play such a high-stakes game, going all-in in front of everyone. And scariest of all—she was actually right.

Liu Dongli had thought she’d let Huai Shi off lightly because they were childhood friends, but now it seemed this woman truly lacked even a shred of human decency…

And realizing his own secrets were in her hands made Liu Dongli’s heart grow colder still.

Now that Ai Qing had given the order, he couldn’t make excuses to stall any longer. He sighed, brushed back his hair, and raised his eyes to the corridor ahead—where two men still wrestled on the ground, sobbing and tangled together.

“—Room check! Get your IDs out!”

The moment he struck that familiar, sleazy pose, Huai Shi’s heart filled with dread. He knew this trick far too well—he’d fallen for it once, and there was no way he’d fall for it again. He immediately turned his head away and squeezed his eyes shut as tight as they would go.

He’d rather die than be humiliated like last time.

But the man, unaware, instinctively looked up in surprise.

In the darkness behind his clenched eyelids, Huai Shi heard a strange gurgling sound. The grip dragging at him suddenly went slack.

The man seemed to be thrashing on the floor.

Bewildered, Huai Shi cracked one eye open and peeked.

On the ground, the man was staring blankly past Huai Shi, toward the staircase behind him. His face was twisted and pale, clawing at his throat as if choking, his complexion turning a frightening shade of purple.

“Oh, heavens, how miserable I am!”

Huai Shi threw his head back and howled in grief, letting out a pitiful wail as tears streamed uncontrollably down his face… At the same time, two other hoarse wails echoed fiercely:

“Juan’er, Daddy has failed you!”

“Mother, your unfilial son won’t be able to attend your funeral…”

Under this terrifying, tear-jerking effect—as if tear gas had filled the room—the two burly men who had broken into the house also started bawling, with snot and tears running all over their faces.

In the midst of their weeping, the three exchanged glances, as if sensing how cruel the world was and how lonely they each felt, rising together with a strange feeling of mutual sympathy… or not!

Even if they had lost their mothers, their daughters, or suffered misfortune their entire lives, the work they had to do still needed to be done, and the things they were supposed to finish were still unfinished.

Wiping their tears and snot away, the two crying brutes suddenly lunged, and the three fell into a wild scuffle. Like a flock of headless chickens, they pulled each other’s hair, slapped faces, kicked each other below the belt, and twisted pinkies—all while crying.

And as they fought and cried, Huai Shi truly did cry in earnest.

It hurt like hell.

…

“Damn it, go easy on me!”

He sobbed while punching one of the men square in the eye. The man’s tear-streaked, scarred face lifted up, and suddenly he bit into Huai Shi’s arm. The other man seized the chance to grab Huai Shi’s hair, blindly hammering him while bawling.

“Lao Liu, kill him!” the man pinned under Huai Shi shrieked in the middle of gasping sobs. “Kill him!”

Crying as well, Lao Liu responded and swung a heavy fist into the back of Huai Shi’s head, making his vision go black as he collapsed to the floor.

Through the corner of his eye, Huai Shi saw Lao Liu pull out a sawed-off shotgun and aim it right at his face.

Tears streaming, Lao Liu took aim, flipped the safety off, and put his finger on the trigger while sobbing.

Huai Shi heard a dull bang.

Then he saw Lao Liu’s head explode.

In an instant, something hard, soft, red, and white rained down like a storm, spattering the floor—and even a few bits landed on Huai Shi’s face, scaring him so much he forgot to cry.

As the headless corpse slowly toppled, he finally saw the girl standing at the stairway.

Ai Qing leaned against the wall with one hand on a crutch. The dust from the rail and the wall smeared gray streaks on her white dress.

In her lowered hand, she held a smoking gun.

“So quick to take the bait, huh?”

She glanced at the man struggling under Huai Shi and stepped aside to clear the stairway. “Leave him alive.”

Down the steps behind her, Liu Dongli appeared, his expression complicated as he gave Ai Qing a sidelong glance, his molars involuntarily aching with cold fear.

He hadn’t expected Ai Qing’s gamble to lie entirely with Huai Shi.

On the way here, as she brought him along, he finally pieced together what was going on: everyone thought the criminals had gone into hiding with the relic after raiding the station, laying low.

But Ai Qing thought differently.

Her reason: the bodies discovered that morning—though just as brutal, they showed signs of torture and torment.

Those victims had suffered horribly before dying.

Covered by the chaos of so many corpses, this clue was missed by most.

But from the other bodies, it was clear: the killer’s methods, while cruel, had been clean, efficient—never wasting time on meaningless sadism.

Even with a violent streak, no Ascendant would waste time like that—not here in the shelter of the present world, where not even a high-level Stigmata bearer could act without consequences.

Leaving traces to draw the Celestials’ pursuit would guarantee a bad end.

So if they’d recovered the box… why keep torturing others?

Was it just to rack up body count?

An internal purge? Settling scores? Or a separate, unrelated case?

Of the many possibilities, one neared the truth:

—They hadn’t found everything yet.

Something else, besides the border relic in the box, was missing. And until they got it back, they wouldn’t stop.

If so, their next target would likely be…

The reporter. The one who first found the box.

Huai Shi.

Holding only this useless card, she’d dared to go all in, bluffing before everyone’s eyes—and terrifyingly, her gamble had worked.

Liu Dongli had thought she’d spared Huai Shi out of old affection, their childhood bond.

But now he saw she was utterly ruthless…

And realizing his own secrets were in such hands made Liu Dongli’s heart grow colder still.

Now, at her order, he dared not dawdle or make excuses. He sighed, pushed back his hair, and gazed toward the tangled, crying pair on the floor.

“—Room check! Show your ID!”

The moment he struck that seductive pose, Huai Shi knew something bad was coming. This trick again? No way he’d fall for it twice. He squeezed his eyes shut, tight as could be.

Even if they beat him to death, he wouldn’t be humiliated again.

But the clueless thug glanced up, stunned.

In the darkness behind his clenched eyelids, Huai Shi heard a strange “huff huff” sound—and the grip yanking at him suddenly loosened.

That man was flailing on the floor.

Peeking through a slit, Huai Shi saw the man staring in shock behind him, toward the stairs, clutching his throat as if he couldn’t breathe, his face turning purple…