Chapter 73: The Lingering Price of Victory

Ouch, ouch, ouch! Can’t you be gentler?

The battle may have concluded, but for Bai Chen, the true, unexpected torment was only just beginning.

He had managed to suppress his pain during his fierce confrontation with Xinleit, yet now, confined within the small, makeshift tent, he couldn’t help but shriek repeatedly.

“Gentler? You should be grateful I’m tending to your wounds myself,” Su Wanghai retorted, his brows furrowed tightly as he applied the salve.

“Why you? Shouldn’t this be the job of a kind and gentle nurse, a big sister figure?”

“What fantasy are you living in? The women in our guild are all spirited, like Manager Cheng Xuan. Where would we find a gentle big sister?”

“Just be gentle, please. I’d rather not survive a battle only to perish from a teammate’s ‘treatment’.”

The mention of the battle made Su Wanghai instinctively glance outside, where guild members were already busy cleaning up the aftermath of the fight.

The demon beast, which Bai Chen had cleaved in two, was a recorded entity within the branch base’s archives, identified as Xinleit. It had surfaced once before, six months prior, and had managed to escape even when several demon hunters had encircled it.

“Bai Chen, you’ve truly outdone yourself,” Su Wanghai couldn’t help but mutter. “Did no one genuinely assist you?”

“I’ve already told you, no. Why do none of you believe me?”

“It’s not that we don’t believe you, but have you even seen the battlefield yourself?”

The clash with Xinleit took place within an abandoned factory; otherwise, judging by the sheer scale of the destruction, countless more people would have undoubtedly suffered.

The factory buildings had collapsed, the ground was shattered, and the entire area appeared as if it had been ravaged by a furious storm. Even if they attributed most of the devastation to the demon itself, Bai Chen’s improbable victory, single-handedly against two foes, remained astonishing.

Not only Su Wanghai and the others, but even Bai Chen himself found the outcome incredibly strange.

Bai Chen lay back, his gaze fixed on the incandescent bulb suspended from the tent’s ceiling, lost in a profound reverie.

He had won, yet, to be frank, Bai Chen felt no inclination to smile.

‘If not for that power, I wouldn’t have stood a chance of victory,’ he mused. ‘Just dealing with a newly revived, weakened Saluk pushed me to my absolute limits.’

A profound worry gnawed at Bai Chen’s heart: facing even more formidable foes in the future would likely necessitate relying on that same, ominous power.

Each time he wielded it, the power exacted a heavy toll on Bai Chen’s mind. He feared the day he might completely lose his sanity, transforming into nothing more than a puppet for that formidable force.

“You always claim you’re not cut out to be a regular operative,” Su Wanghai commented, speaking as he tidied up. “And isn’t this incident perfect proof of that?”

“Those desk-bound bureaucrats, who look down on us despite never seeing a battlefield, will never acknowledge that Bai Chen saved their hides again tonight.”

Su Wanghai’s words elicited a wry chuckle from Bai Chen.

“Hurry up and get moving!” Su Wanghai urged. “I’ll apply this last bit of medicine, and then you’re free to go home or do whatever you wish.”

“Home?”

“Oh no!”

Bai Chen shot upright, a sharp grimace twisting his features as the sudden movement pulled at his wounds.

“I have to leave. Please, tell Manager Cheng Xuan something for me.”

“So eager to rush back to your hometown and get married?”

“It’s even more crucial than that!”

Ever since he began pursuing Saluk, Bai Chen had completely banished all thoughts of the performance from his mind. It was only now, prompted by Su Wanghai, that the memory resurfaced.

“The performance started two hours ago!”

“Mo Qiu is still waiting for me!”

The thought of the young woman still waiting for him to return and perform their scene together tormented Bai Chen even more than the unsettling influence of that mysterious power.

Disregarding Su Wanghai’s bewildered calls, he leaped from the cot, grabbed his jacket, and sprinted out of the tent, only for his heart to plummet the moment he emerged.

‘If I go back now, how can I possibly participate in the performance?’

‘Not only was it likely already over, but even if I could somehow make it back just in the nick of time, I wouldn’t even have a costume to wear.’

‘That suit had long since been reduced to ashes, along with the self-destructing electric scooter!’

Bai Chen slapped his forehead with considerable force. ‘Sure enough, I should steer clear of anything from the R&D department from now on, lest misfortune befall me,’ he thought ruefully.

Turning around, he saw Su Wanghai hurrying after him. Bai Chen rushed forward. “Do you have a car? Can I borrow it?”

Su Wanghai, taken aback by Bai Chen’s frantic demeanor, shook his head immediately. “No, I don’t,” he replied. “Didn’t you give me a ride just last month?”

Su Wanghai’s words jogged Bai Chen’s memory, confirming that he would have to devise another solution.

“Are you really in such a hurry that you’re disregarding your own injuries?”

“Extremely urgent, yes, incredibly urgent!”

Bai Chen shook his head, a bitter complaint escaping his lips.

“There’s someone important waiting for me, and I can’t leave her alone in a place like that.”

While it was Bai Chen who had gone missing, he couldn’t help but wonder how others would perceive Mo Qiu.

Being naturally shy and unused to social interactions, she would undoubtedly be sitting alone, quietly enduring the cold stares and unspoken judgments of others.

The realization that he was the cause of her predicament intensified Bai Chen’s urgency. He couldn’t help but inwardly grumble about why the R&D department hadn’t designed the electric scooter, the Mark II, to be more robust.

“I’ll hail a car for you. Where’s the destination?”

Su Wanghai had already pulled out his phone. “Aren’t you in a rush? Stop dawdling!”

“You truly are my best brother!”

Bai Chen was profoundly moved; he truly hadn’t misjudged Su Wanghai as a friend.

After climbing into the car Su Wanghai had summoned, he didn’t forget to express his gratitude, only rolling up the window once the vehicle began to move.

En route to Wanhua Plaza, Bai Chen repeatedly pressed the driver to speed up, nearly exasperating the man.

The moment the car halted at the plaza’s intersection, Bai Chen flung open the door and darted out like an arrow. Even from a distance, the lively buzz of the performance reached his ears.

The stalls were noticeably quieter, with most of the crowd having converged in the plaza’s center to watch the ongoing performances.

Bai Chen squeezed through the throngs of people, finally managing to reach the stage. He then utilized a narrow side path to make his way backstage.

Two hosts were reviewing their scripts, preparing to take the stage again once the current act concluded. Other performing groups were also gathered there; those who had finished their sets looked visibly relieved, while those awaiting their turn appeared tense and anxious.

Bai Chen pressed on, his steps unwavering, and soon located the members of Fengling Middle School’s Drama Club. His heart sank abruptly as he watched them, shedding their costumes and passing bottles of water among themselves.

“Old Bai?”

Old Zhu was the first to spot him, rushing over immediately. His cheeks were flushed, and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead.

“Where have you been? We’ve been searching for you for ages!”

“What about the performance?”

“It’s over,” Old Zhu replied, patting his shoulder gently. “Don’t worry about it; no one blames you.”

No sooner had he spoken than the other club members gathered around, each inquiring about Bai Chen’s whereabouts.

“Are you alright?”

“I heard there were demon beasts on the road. Thank goodness you made it back safely.”

“You scared us half to death! We all thought you’d been attacked on your way back.”

Just as Old Zhu had indicated, the drama club members harbored no resentment; instead, their primary concern was Bai Chen’s safety. President Luo, in particular, had been beside himself with worry, fretting that if anything had happened to Bai Chen on his way to retrieve the costume, he would have carried the guilt for a very long time.

As the comforting words washed over him, Bai Chen felt the knot of anxiety in his chest loosen slightly. Yet, he soon realized something was amiss, a crucial element missing from the scene.

“Where’s Mo Qiu?”

At his question, everyone froze, their gazes darting from one to another.

“Wasn’t she with you all?”

“I assumed you two went together.”

“I haven’t seen her in ages.”

Bai Chen’s heart nearly seized. As to why Mo Qiu wasn’t there, he already harbored some grim suspicions.

Given that news of the demon beasts appearing on the road had reached Wanhua Plaza, Mo Qiu would undoubtedly have been the most worried among them.

After Bai Chen had kept everyone waiting for so long, only for them to hear reports of demon beasts on the streets, Mo Qiu certainly wouldn’t have been able to sit idly by.

Considering her reckless disregard for her own safety, the chances of her encountering trouble on the road were alarmingly high!

At this realization, Bai Chen felt as if he were a critically ill elder. He found a secluded corner, slumped onto the ground, and pressed his hand against his throbbing forehead.

‘Tonight truly turned into an absolute disaster.’

‘What good was winning the battle?’ Bai Chen pondered what he had gained, concluding it was merely a fleeting sense of accomplishment.

‘My costume and electric scooter were destroyed, I missed the performance, and I’ve likely even disappointed Mo Qiu.’

‘Bai Chen, oh Bai Chen, what exactly are you doing with your life?!’

‘You wanted to be a demon hunter and do what you could, but in the end, haven’t you failed to accomplish anything at all?’

He recalled Su Wanghai boasting about his achievements at the branch base, and a flicker of longing had stirred within him.

‘But what right do you have to brag?’

Bai Chen remained seated, silent and still as a statue.

After the performances concluded, people gradually began to disperse, and the stage grew increasingly desolate. Old Zhu had approached to offer comfort, but Bai Chen, wanting only a moment of quiet, had simply ignored him.

Wanhua Plaza soon reverted to the stillness of the night. The neon lights flickered off, and the glow of the full moon was insufficient to illuminate the stage.

After the bustling activity, all that remained was a scene of utter disarray, and a young man whose spirit seemed utterly lost.

Bai Chen clutched his phone, awaiting news from Su Wanghai about finding Mo Qiu, but a long time passed without any word.

Just as Bai Chen, supporting his weary body, prepared to leave the plaza, he suddenly froze.

Stepping towards him, bathed in the moonlight, was the very girl he had been longing for.

Her lightless eyes never left him, just as he vowed never to let her leave his sight again.