“I said espers are superior to ordinary people—that’s just the conclusion I reached through rational thought,” I answered honestly. “I might feel that way toward random busybodies who gossip behind my back, but toward Chang’an—or really, toward anyone I can actually talk to normally—I just can’t muster that kind of lofty, condescending emotion.”

  “Then if your reason and your feelings ever come into conflict, which side would you choose?” Zhu Shi pressed.

  Without thinking, I shot back, “Do I look like the type of person who prioritizes reason?”

  “…Yeah, I asked a pointless question.” She gave a helpless laugh.

  “I get why you’re placing so much weight on my answer. You want to know where I stand, right?” I said. “So let me make it clear right now: I’m not going to side with the people who think espers should blend into ordinary society, and I’m not going to side with the ones who think espers are above it all either. I have zero interest in your internal political factions. Just thinking about that kind of thing makes me tired.

  “But Zhu Shi—I will stand by your side. Since you’re Chang’an’s little sister, that makes you my friend too. If anyone becomes your enemy, then they become my enemy as well.

  “So now tell me: what do you want me to do?”

  Zhu Shi’s mouth parted slightly. After a moment, she let out a small sigh mixed with laughter. “That’s totally unfair…”

  “I’m just saying what I really feel.”

  There was admittedly a bit of deliberate drama in it—I wouldn’t usually speak so grandly in everyday conversation.

  But the words were sincere, and I really meant to follow through.

  “Real feelings are the most unfair thing of all,” she murmured, then grumbled a little. “You might think the topic I brought up earlier was annoying—and honestly, I hate political discussions like that too. What girl my age actually enjoys talking about serious factional politics? So please don’t misunderstand me. I wasn’t trying to recruit you or pull you into anything.”

  “I won’t misunderstand,” I promised.

  “Okay. Back to your earlier question…” She straightened her expression and continued. “I want you to hide the true extent of your power from Luoshan for now.”

  “If I revealed my real strength, would someone try to harm me?” I asked curiously.

  “The opposite. Most factions in Luoshan would fight tooth and nail to recruit you to their side. Unless they were completely brain-dead, that’s exactly what they’d do. You could pick whichever one you wanted and gain massive benefits.” She spoke slowly. “The reason I’m suggesting this isn’t because I’m trying to monopolize you for my own faction. This is just a personal request from me.”

  “What’s the reason?” I asked.

  “I want you to observe clearly first.” She looked straight into my eyes, serious. “The moment you reveal yourself, people with all kinds of ulterior motives will swarm around you. They’ll say exaggerated things to your face and put on whatever mask they think will win you over. None of that will be their real selves. If you stay hidden for a while, you can watch who they truly are before deciding which path to take.

  “Even if the direction you ultimately choose is different from mine, that’s fine. I just want you to choose the one you actually like.”

  I already told you I’m not interested in any of that.

  I wanted to say it outright, but I could feel Zhu Shi’s genuine goodwill.

  And after thinking it over carefully, she was right: right now wasn’t the time to expose myself to everyone’s scrutiny.

  I personally didn’t mind getting dragged into so-called “political whirlpools.” If it happened, it happened—I’d just keep doing my own thing. If someone tried to force me into something else, I’d ignore them. If they got in my way, they’d become my enemy. Simple.

  The real problem was Alice.

  Luoshan was currently prioritizing the hunt for Alice—and Alice was right by my side. I didn’t know exactly which factions were behind it, but I needed to keep her out of their line of sight.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  The black humor of it all wasn’t lost on me: I wasn’t some good guy trying to protect a helpless girl from villains. I was another villain.

  Before I learned about the mutual repulsion between me and anomalies, establishing a solid foothold in Luoshan quickly had been my top priority—I wouldn’t have hidden my power for Alice’s sake back then. But now, Alice had become an indispensable part of my life. Luoshan had become secondary.

  Seeing me agree, Zhu Shi visibly relaxed.

  “Hiding your true strength has another advantage: no one will know how to counter you properly.” She sighed. “Like what happened with Agent Kong this time… If he’d known about your elementalization in advance, he would’ve used a soul-damaging sneak attack instead.”

  “Yeah. Lucky for me he only knew how to throw physical punches.” I sighed too, then asked, “By the way—about hiding it… the fight with Agent Kong made such a huge scene. There’s no way to cover that up, right?”

  “I’ll figure out a way to handle that side of things. I’ll let you know once it’s sorted.”

  “Got it. So about me joining Luoshan…” I brought it up again.

  “To become a demon hunter of Luoshan, you need to pass an examination. It tests not just raw power, but also knowledge of anomalies.” She spoke carefully. “If you’ve never formally studied the subject before, you’d need at least three years of learning to pass the official Luoshan demon hunter test.”

  “Three years?” I was surprised. “But earlier Agent Kong made it sound like you could be my guide… and that I could join Luoshan right away.”

  “In Luoshan, the relationship between a guide and the guided is essentially that of master and disciple.” She looked a little embarrassed. “What he probably meant was that you could become my student, study under me for a few years, and then join Luoshan…”

  “I see. In that case—Teacher Zhu.”

  Calling my junior “teacher” for the first time, I said it with perfect seriousness, though inside I felt a mix of awkwardness and a strange, fresh thrill.

  Zhu Shi, on the other hand, was far more flustered. “You actually called me that?!”

  The one who falters first is the awkward one. I kept my face straight. “Is there a problem?”

  “You don’t think I’m unqualified? Age, strength, all that…” She fidgeted.

  “You know more than I do, and you have far more experience. As the saying goes, whoever has mastered the way is the teacher. Of course you’re qualified.” I meant every word.

  She studied my expression for a long moment, then deflated like someone who’d given up arguing. “…Actually, there’s another way to become a demon hunter without passing the test.”

  “I’m listening.” My interest piqued immediately.

  She gave the answer: “Become a ‘Heretic Great Unpredictable.’”

  “What’s a ‘Heretic Great Unpredictable’?”

  “The demon hunters of Luoshan who handle anomalies are called ‘Great Unpredictables.’ A ‘Heretic Great Unpredictable’ refers to a powerful hunter who operates outside Luoshan’s formal system but is still recognized by it.” She explained, “Think of it as Luoshan’s united front target. To Luoshan, most independent demon hunters are more like potential threats—objects of management—than true demon hunters. But for the especially powerful ones, Luoshan will deliberately grant them status equivalent to official hunters.”

  I recalled some miscellaneous knowledge I’d picked up in the past.

  In Buddhism, their own teachings are called the “inner path,” while others are “outer paths” (heretical doctrines). “Great Unpredictable” comes from the soul-reaping messengers in Daoism.

  Heretic Great Unpredictable… I rolled the term around in my mouth. Whatever its origins, it carried an inexplicable mix of coolness and edge—exactly my style.

  “How do I get Luoshan’s recognition?”

  “You don’t need to worry about that. Even if I manage to downplay your real power in the report, there’s no hiding a building you sliced clean in half.” She smiled wryly. “Most people think flame users are just one-dimensional attackers with a single standout trait. But when that trait reaches this level, Luoshan will have no choice but to nod in approval. I’ll help you apply for it on that front too.”

  “Then I’ll leave it in your hands,” I said earnestly.

  For a brief moment, she slipped back into “little junior sister Zhu” mode, nodding with a bright smile. “Leave it to me, Senior Brother Zhuang!”

  —

  Before we parted, I asked Zhu Shi for one more thing.

  A detailed examination of the source of my ability.

  She could already confirm it didn’t come from any demonic or monstrous bloodline, but pinpointing the exact origin would require more precise testing. Since I cared deeply about understanding my own power, she asked for a few drops of my blood to take back for analysis.

  Instead of heading straight home afterward, I called Chang’an and arranged to meet him.

  Because the fallen demon hunter incident had ended so ambiguously, I hadn’t yet pulled back the “fireflies” I’d stationed around him.

  And just as Chang’an himself had said, to avoid dragging innocent people into danger if the “mysterious serial killer” came looking for him, he hadn’t been to school recently. Most normal people would probably want to stay in crowded places in that situation—his thought process seemed to run in the opposite direction.

  The agents who had been secretly watching him had already withdrawn. Apparently Luoshan considered the fallen demon hunter case closed and no longer needed surveillance. He seemed to have gotten the news too—his mood had lightened considerably. He’d even sent me a text last night.

  We met at a fried chicken place. When he arrived, he was still dressed head-to-toe in gaudy, ridiculously expensive designer labels. Not that I have anything against luxury brands—it’s just that he seemed to chase price tags without any sense of coordination or taste.

  Zhu Shi, his sister, didn’t seem particularly skilled at fashion either, but her simple, clean style worked in her favor. Chang’an, on the other hand, was pure flashy excess—like someone with too much money and no idea how to spend it tastefully.

  Yet now, even his atrocious outfit felt oddly nostalgic to me.

  He strode over with a big grin, voice loud as always. “Man, these past couple of days have been killing me from boredom… What’s up? You finally calling me out for a meal? My treat! My treat! Tell me—what do you want to eat?”

  He had no idea I had come here to end our friendship.