Chapter 128: The Master’s Admonition

Ding—

The lighter’s lid snapped open with a crisp sound. Sparks brushed past the flint wheel, and a small orange flame bloomed.

“Hu…”

Bluish-gray smoke curled around his fingertips, then sank into his lungs. It rolled once through his chest cavity, carrying away a bit of anxiety and leaving behind only bitterness.

This was the tenth cigarette Luo Shaotian had smoked today.

Tobacco was a strange thing. Beginners found it choking—the body’s instinctive rejection of toxins. But once a person grew accustomed to that sharp burning scraping down the throat… it became a form of proof.

—Proof that after all those grotesque nightmares, he was still alive.

Luo Shaotian leaned against the rooftop railing, staring through drifting smoke at the streets far below, now sealed off with layers of police cordons.

Ever since the incident that night—the attack by the creature known as the “Foul Bride”—the entire area around Xinhai City Police Bureau had been taken over.

The official public statement: “Old underground gas pipes leaked, causing a chain explosion.”

With the buildings there conveniently blocking visibility, plus strict media containment these past few days, that night’s hellscape had disappeared into silence. A stone thrown into the sea. A few ripples—then nothing.

As for the survivors present that night…

Luo narrowed his eyes as the post-battle scene resurfaced in his mind.

A group of people in sterile white suits. The “after-incident handling team.” They swiftly took control, ordered everyone to hand over their phones and comms devices—no one was allowed to refuse. Then they brought out a silver metal tube, shaped like a fountain pen.

“Please look here. This is a routine pupillary reflex test.” That’s what the man in sunglasses said.

And then—

Bzzz.

A flash of blinding light.

Luo saw with his own eyes: the moment that light hit, his colleagues’ expressions went blank—empty. Minutes later, when they “woke up,” they looked at the wreckage around them and muttered the same words as the official report: “Gas explosion.”

Everything about the monster… the tentacles… and that magical girl…

Wiped clean, like chalk erased from a board.

“…Heh.”

Luo let out a self-mocking laugh. His fingers tightened unconsciously, crushing the half-burned cigarette.

Yes. Everyone forgot.

Except him.

When it was his turn, that eerie light didn’t bring sleepiness at all. Instead, at the moment it struck his pupils—his brain felt like a needle had stabbed straight through it! After the stab of pain came an even clearer playback of all those memories. Not erased, but restored.

Was it because he had once been infected by that dark power? Did that give him resistance to mental interference?

He wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter now.

Luo extinguished the cigarette against the railing, picked up his phone, and dialed Lin Yu again.

“Sorry, the number you have dialed is currently unavailable…”

He lowered the phone, staring at the dim gray screen as frustration spread through him.

“As expected… still not answering?”

Ever since that night—their farewell with “Lulu” on the rooftop—Lin Yu’s number had been effectively dead. WeChat, texts, calls. All were like stones thrown into the ocean. It was as if Lin Yu had vanished from Xinhai City altogether.

“What the hell… are you doing?” He muttered under his breath, frowning.

Was Lin Yu unwilling to face him? Or… unable to?

“Oi!”

A deep, booming voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Luo jolted and turned—to see a weathered, familiar face.

“…Master?”

Zhang Zheng had somehow stepped onto the rooftop without him noticing. Hands clasped behind his back, eyes sweeping over the pile of cigarette butts at Luo’s feet. His brows scrunched immediately into the shape of the Chinese character “川.”

“You brat—what are you doing here? Trying to ascend to immortality or something?” He pointed at the cigarette butts arranged almost like a ritual circle, his tone full of “hate iron for not becoming steel.” “So much smoke… you trying to lose your lungs early?”

“…You’re right, Captain Zhang.” Luo forced a smile.

Zhang Zheng tucked a half-finished pack of Zhonghua cigarettes back into his pocket.

“Hand it over.”

“Huh?”

“Huh什么？Give me one.” Zhang snatched the cigarette pack from Luo, flicked out one expertly, clamped it between his lips—then casually stuffed the entire pack and the lighter into his own pocket and even patted it with satisfaction. “Good cigarettes are wasted on you smoking like that. I’m confiscating them.”

Luo stared for a moment… then chuckled. Yep. That felt like his master.

“Fsshh—”

Zhang lit his cigarette, inhaled deeply, his perpetually murky eyes narrowing behind the smoke.

“Say… Shaotian.”

“Hm?”

“That day—when the disciplinary notice came down—the things you told me in my office… were they true?”

Luo blinked. “…Which part?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Zhang tapped the ashes off his cigarette. “You said something was burning in your head. That you couldn’t control your temper. That you wanted to do something crazy.”

He stared straight into Luo’s eyes.

“That—was that an excuse? Or was it real?”

Silence.

Luo remembered the feeling of being consumed by that dark force. Even recalling it sent chills down his spine.

“…It was real, Master.” His head lowered. “Back then, I truly felt like… I wasn’t myself anymore. Like something was… living inside me.”

“And now?” Zhang pressed, gaze sharp as a blade. “Is that thing still there?”

“It’s gone.” Luo answered quickly.

A small, warm figure flashed in his mind—that warm embrace, gentle like sunlight, soft like a mother. Probably because… he had rested recently. His heart was calm. Those chaotic impulses faded naturally.

He hid the truth about “Lulu” and the magical girl. That was their shared secret.

“…Heh.” Zhang exhaled, not fully convinced, but he didn’t push further. He just shook his head. “Fine. As long as you’re alright. Since the higher-ups are still willing to give you a chance, wear this skin properly. Don’t stir up trouble again.”

He walked to the railing, looking out at the half-cleared ruins. The emptiness in his expression made him seem older than usual.

“Damn it… you really picked a hell of a day to come back.” Smoke drifted from his lips, dispersing in the wind. “They said the official cause is… gas pipe explosions?”

Luo didn’t respond—just watched his mentor’s face.

Zhang’s frown deepened. His fingers rubbed the rust on the railing.

“Gas explosion… huh…” He repeated the phrase, voice low.

“Shaotian, your memory’s better than mine. When this annex was built… did we ever lay gas pipes underneath?”

Luo’s heart skipped a beat.

“As far as I know… no.” His voice trembled slightly. “Master… do you feel something is off?”

“Everything is off!” Zhang slapped the railing angrily. “These past years—All those ‘gas explosions,’ ‘chemical plant leaks’… aren’t they happening way too often? Every time, the site is sealed tighter than a bank vault. And those people in white suits… they’re not from any department we know.”

“And…” He suddenly grimaced, clutching his temples. “Ah—!”

“Master?!”

“It’s fine… just feels like… someone’s stabbing a needle into my brain.” His face paled. “Every time I try to recall that night—those white suits… that light… my mind turns into mush.”

“Master, actually—”

“Shaotian—” He suddenly grabbed Luo’s wrist tightly. “Tell me the truth. That night… what did we really see?”

“That look in your eyes tells me—you remember everything, don’t you?”

Luo looked into his master’s conflicted, searching eyes. Even with memories erased and logic rewritten, his instincts as an old detective still fought back with everything they had. That… was his master. A man who would chase truth like a rabid dog, even if it killed him.

“Haah…” Luo exhaled slowly. “Yes, Master. I remember.” He squeezed Zhang’s hand. “Since you’re asking sincerely… I’ll tell you the real truth of that night.”

And so, in the next ten minutes—Luo recounted everything. The massive flesh monster. The undying horror. The grotesque “mysterious power.” He only blurred the “magical girl” part as “an unknown special-ability combatant,” and of course, he didn’t mention the kiss or Lulu.

Zhang listened in silence, chain-smoking the cigarettes he’d just stolen. One after another, until that half-pack became a pile of crushed butts.

When Luo finished, the rooftop fell silent for a long, long time.

Finally—

“I knew it…” Zhang crushed the last ember beneath his shoe, voice low and hoarse. “This world… isn’t as simple as they want us to think.”

“Master… about this matter—”

“Enough.” Zhang raised a hand, expression unusually serious. “This… stays in your stomach. Let it rot there. Never say it out loud.”

Luo froze. “Master…? Didn’t you hate being kept in the dark? Didn’t you want to pull off the lid and see the truth beneath? Why now—?”

“I want to know the truth. I’m not an idiot.” Zhang gave a bitter smile and slapped Luo’s shoulder. “Now that I know… I finally understand why they hide this from the public.”

Ordinary people… can’t handle this. If civilians knew that beneath the roads they walk every day, a monster could crawl out at any time… Xinhai City would plunge into chaos by tomorrow morning.

“Sometimes… ignorance is a kind of happiness.”

He turned to leave. His back looked instantly older, lonelier.

But after a few steps—he stopped. Without looking back, he spoke, voice carried by the wind:

“Shaotian… I know your temper. You’re stubborn. Once you decide on a direction, you don’t turn back.”

“You remember the truth. And you’ve been touched by that darkness.”

“So… you’re going to keep digging, aren’t you?”

Luo didn’t deny it. He nodded quietly.

“Go, then.” Zhang sighed. “I’m a half-brainwashed old man now. I can’t help much.”

“But within the police department—if you need to check a file, pull some records… as long as it doesn’t violate principle—this old bone can still hold up the door for you once or twice.”

“Master… thank you!” Luo stood straight and saluted with genuine gratitude.

“Enough, enough—none of those formalities.” Zhang waved a hand irritably and walked into the stairwell’s darkness.

His final words drifted out:

“One thing, Shaotian. No matter what you find… no matter what you run into…”

“Don’t ever become that previous version of yourself again.”

“This uniform on us represents more than justice and righteousness—”

“It represents loyalty to the Party, service to the people…”

His voice faded into shadow, somber yet resolute.