Back when I first awakened my powers, I’d fantasized about scenarios where my abilities got exposed, leading to me being arrested by official forces on trumped-up charges and turned into a lab rat in some research facility.

  Rationally, I knew the odds were low. For one, treating a rare superhuman like disposable experiment fodder went against basic scientific sense. For another, official organizations had to operate with some ethics—not just as a facade for outsiders, but as a banner to rally their own people.

  But what if “superhumans” weren’t as rare in this world as I thought? What if the ones coming after me weren’t the ethical types?

  That terrifying scenario was just a delusion for me. For Lu Chan, it had actually happened.

  “Eight months later, Lu Chan escaped that underground organization’s research facility on his own. But after enduring unimaginable cruelty, he lost most of his power as a Wuchang. Now he can only serve as a Wandering Inspector, providing support from the rear.” Zhu Shi sighed. “Z, you asked before if I disliked Lu Chan. Actually, I don’t dislike him at all. On the contrary, I used to respect him deeply. He was once a kind-hearted Wuchang who wielded his sword for the sake of the common people—a role model in my eyes.

  “In Luoshan, ‘Cheng’-level Wuchang are also called ‘National First-Class Demon Hunters.’ Hunters at that level usually don’t claim the title, since they don’t see themselves as bound by secular governments. But back then, Lu Chan wore it with pride.

  “Even though his personality has changed drastically now, and he believes demon hunters should enslave ordinary people, I can’t condemn him for it. Don’t advise others to be kind without knowing their suffering—I get that. The tortures he endured in that facility are beyond what normal people can imagine. If I went through the same, I might end up just like him.

  “It’s just that, ideologically, I can’t align with who he is now. That’s all.”

  I nodded in understanding, my mind drifting to Lu Chan’s modest, friendly face.

  It was hard to imagine someone as emotionally stable as him had gone through something so chilling. As a fellow “superhuman,” I couldn’t help feeling a sense of shared vulnerability. Zhu Shi must have felt it even more strongly than I did.

  “Lu Chan seems to have already sensed my power level,” I said. “You mentioned wanting me to hide my abilities to avoid getting pulled in by Luoshan’s various factions too soon. Is that impossible now?”

  “His faction will definitely try hard to recruit you, but things haven’t deteriorated to the worst yet.” After thinking it over, Zhu Shi replied, “At least you haven’t shown him your elemental form. For a flame user, having elementalization or not is night and day. Right now, in his mind, you’ve probably just gone from ‘strong offense’ to ‘insanely strong offense.’

  “Based on you defeating Agent Kong, he can probably infer your other ‘weaknesses’ aren’t too glaring—but not to the point of suspecting elementalization.”

  “I see…” I nodded, then suddenly remembered something.

  I should have asked Zhu Shi about this earlier, but I’d been so focused on finding Alice. Between that and everything that happened after we met up, it had slipped my mind until now.

  “Zhu Shi, have you ever heard of the ‘Divine Seal’?” I asked.

  “Divine Seal?” She looked taken aback. “Is that the exact name?”

  “Probably?”

  Her question made me realize how vague I’d been. In mysticism, the character for “seal” wasn’t exactly rare, and adding “divine” didn’t make it a precise search term.

  I added, “I forget where I read it, but apparently there’s something in this world called the Divine Seal that can grant any wish.”

  “A Divine Seal that grants any wish…” Now she seemed to have a faint recollection. “It rings a bell… Sorry, I can’t quite place it right now. I’ll look into it for you later. But why ask about this all of a sudden?”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Just passing the time with chat. We’re on the move, after all.” I said. “What about ‘Xuanming’? Have you heard of that person?”

  In the misty dream, both Number One and Number Two had reacted to the name Number Four gave. Number One with wariness, Number Two with fear.

  If my guess was right, Number One was like me—someone from the modern world. Yet both he and Number Two from the apocalypse era had instinctive emotional responses to the name, proving Xuanming was someone infamous.

  Sure enough, Zhu Shi reacted too.

  Her expression turned deadly serious.

  “Z, where did you hear that name?”

  “Agent Kong mentioned it to me,” I said, passing the buck to the dead. “But he only dropped it in passing, no details.”

  “Why would he bring up Xuanming to you?” She looked puzzled at first, then realization dawned. “Oh, right… because you’re a flame user.”

  “So Xuanming really is connected to Qi from the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors era—the fire god Yi Bo?”

  “Yeah… Where to start…” She pondered, then said, “I’ve mentioned before that some gods in surviving myths and legends were actually ancient great Wuchang who either wreaked havoc across the land or brought prosperity to regions.”

  “You mean…” I suddenly grasped the truth.

  “Exactly. Xuanming was once one of Luoshan’s great Wuchang.”

  Number Four Xuanming had been a great Wuchang in Luoshan? I was shocked, but it also clicked. No wonder even in the misty dream where powers were suppressed, Number Four Xuanming radiated such an overwhelming presence and sharp danger.

  And if he was a great Wuchang—someone who could command even natural disasters—his fame enduring into the apocalypse era made perfect sense.

  Then I caught something. “You said ‘was once’?”

  “About half a year ago, Xuanming defected from Luoshan.” Zhu Shi explained. “I don’t know the exact reasons, but one day he suddenly went berserk. In front of everyone, he burned another great Wuchang, Fu Hongchen, to death, then directly defeated and severely wounded the great Wuchang Ming Zhuo before leaving Luoshan.

  “Great Wuchang are Luoshan’s overlords. Normally, no matter what they do, it could never be seen as betraying Luoshan—like how ministers can’t accuse the emperor of rebellion. There’s only one exception: when great Wuchang turn on each other.

  “After that, Xuanming was branded a traitor to Luoshan. His whereabouts are still unknown.”

  Number Four Xuanming had done something like that…

  Burning one great Wuchang to death and crippling another—did that mean he wasn’t just a great Wuchang, but one of the strongest?

  From our conversation in the misty dream, his speech and demeanor didn’t strike me as unhinged. I doubted he’d attacked other great Wuchang out of pure madness. He must have had some calculated reason.

  I recalled his furious interrogation of the giant in the misty dream. To him, the giant seemed like the mastermind behind the world’s impending destruction—that was the only time he lost composure… Could his attack on the other great Wuchang be tied to that?

  “Xuanming was a great Wuchang who mastered flame powers. That’s probably why Agent Kong mentioned him to you,” Zhu Shi concluded on her own. Then she suddenly stopped walking.

  She raised her right hand, lowered her voice, and said, “Target spotted.”

  At her words, I tensed up, holding my breath as I looked ahead.

  We had reached the old city district’s sports park. There was a desolate field here—a red running track encircling a weed-overgrown soccer pitch. We were sneaking along the outer edge of the track. I’d been here before; occasionally people came for jogging or workouts. It used to be popular, but it had fallen into disuse over time, turning into this lonely spot.

  At the far edge of the field, I spotted a bizarre silhouette. Clearly not a jogger or someone out for exercise—this was a goat-headed creature walking on two legs, nearly three meters tall, all muscle, like a demon straight out of hell.

  “A Monster…” Zhu Shi stared intently, pulling me down to hide behind nearby bushes.

  The Monster hadn’t noticed us. He seemed to be just passing through—or maybe treating this as his hunting ground. If he was after ordinary people to devour souls, a place like this—rarely visited but not completely deserted—was the perfect cafeteria. Just wait a bit, and prey would wander in.

  Though the thought of “asking about his mindset for doing evil” had crossed my mind earlier, this clearly wasn’t the time.

  I considered my next move.

  First, rule out “kill him outright.” Even though Lu Chan recommended direct elimination, rushing to kill the Monster would be the worst choice if I wanted clues to Alice.

  But capturing him alive wasn’t an option either. According to Lu Chan, all Luoshan attempts to capture Monsters had failed due to their self-destruct mechanism. I couldn’t even convince him not to blow up—it wasn’t under his control.

  Can’t kill, can’t capture. The only path seemed to be tailing the Monster until he drew out “Alice, who might be investigating Monsters.”

  But choosing to “tail” meant standing by silently if he killed someone.

  Or I could intervene every time he tried to kill, while forcibly embedding a heat marker in his body—like a zoologist implanting a tracker in a wild animal. That way, he’d always be under my surveillance, no matter what. It seemed feasible. Even if he spatially transferred later, he couldn’t escape my gaze.

  The problem was, I didn’t know if his maximum range for mentally controlling shadows to kill remotely exceeded my sensing range. And I had no idea if elsewhere, demons summoned from his shadows were already active and murdering.

  Ignoring those unknowns was gambling with innocent lives. Zhu Shi would definitely push to kill the Monster immediately.

  That was the safest choice for others—but the one most at odds with my own interests.

  What should I do?