Chapter 82: Reencounter with Wang Wei

“What the—?! Lin Yu, you goddamn legend?!”

A familiar duck-like voice exploded behind him without warning.

Lin Yu’s face twitched. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

But he turned anyway—and sure enough, that familiar, perpetually-salted-fish face filled his vision.

Wang Wei.

The guy was exactly the same as before: a slightly chubby body stuffed into a cheap T-shirt with the words “Lying Flat” stretched tight across the front, a pair of flip-flops slapping against the ground, hair messy enough to house a bird’s nest, and a face shining with the greasy exhaustion only all-nighters in internet cafés could produce.

Placed among the sharply dressed elites of District F, he radiated the unmistakable aura of “bottom of the food chain.”

“Holy shit, it really is you!”

Wang Wei rushed over in two and a half steps and slapped Lin Yu’s shoulder with a palm the size of a fan—so hard that Lin Yu felt like the bones he had just recovered were about to fall apart again.

“Bro, what’s this? You’ve upgraded your whole damn life? You’re hanging around in District F now? You rich or something?!”

As he rambled loudly, Wang Wei circled him like he was inspecting some rare animal. His gaze finally locked onto Lin Yu’s… overly clean face.

“Wait… hold up.”
Wang Wei squinted, leaned in, and even sniffed him. “Did you secretly get cosmetic surgery? Why do you look so… delicate? And why the hell do you smell like perfume?”

Lin Yu’s temple pulsed.

“Get lost.”

He shoved away the big head hovering too close. “You got cosmetic surgery. Your whole family got cosmetic surgery. I just… had some time off and recovered, alright?”

“Ohoho, recovered, he says…”

Wang Wei rolled his eyes—but then something shiny caught his attention.

“Eh? What’s that thing around your neck?”

He lifted the same hand that had just been scratching his foot and reached toward the cold metal collar around Lin Yu’s neck.

“Don’t touch it!”

Lin Yu recoiled like a startled cat, a flash of panic crossing his eyes.

He quickly covered the collar—a symbol of his prisoner status—and rattled off the excuse he had prepared:

“Ahem… it’s the company’s new health monitor. High-tech stuff, okay? Tracks heart rate, blood pressure, blood oxygen… Our company cares a lot about employee well-being.”

“A health monitor? Why does it look like a dog collar?”

Wang Wei didn’t look convinced, but his imagination was too limited to grasp its true purpose, so he just muttered under his breath.

“Your company’s nuts… Anyway! Last time at that crappy barbecue stand by the Hive, didn’t those drunks mess everything up? If Young Master Luo hadn’t stepped in, we’d have been screwed. It’s been like two months since then, huh?”

At the mention of that incident, Lin Yu’s heart tightened.

He recalled Luo Shaotian’s crisp police uniform—and the broad, reliable back that had shielded him.

“Yeah… yeah.”

Lin Yu nodded vaguely. “Come on, let’s not block the walkway.”

They walked down the dazzling street of District F together—two ugly ducklings strayed into a flock of swans.

Wang Wei chattered nonstop:

“I swear, I really don’t wanna keep working my crappy job. Who the hell still pays three thousand a month in this day and age?”

“Oh, and—my buddy almost hired me to help run a power-leveling studio in District E. But someone pissed off a bigshot there, and they started some ‘Hundred Days of Clean Sweep’ campaign. My buddy’s group rental got smashed to rubble… If I ever find out who caused it, I’m digging up his ancestors!”

Lin Yu wasn’t really listening. His eyes kept drifting toward the giant holographic billboards on both sides of the street.

[Ruikang Bio — Technology Makes Life Better.]
[SkyDome Group — Building the Next Future with Data.]

Those names—once so far out of reach—were now tangled inseparably with his fate.

Just then, Wang Wei grabbed him excitedly.

“Oi, bro! Look! Mixue Ice Cream & Tea!”

Lin Yu looked over. Right next to a glittering luxury boutique stood a stubbornly humble ice-cream shop.

“Come come come! My treat!”

Wang Wei dragged him over, whipped out his phone, flashed a golden QR code at the cashier, and said proudly:

“Friday Meituan free-pickup coupon. Two cones, thanks.”

Moments later, two freshly made cones were handed to them.

“Heheh, how’s that?”
Wang Wei took a huge bite and mumbled smugly, “My coupon-hunting skills are top-tier, right?”

Lin Yu looked at his cone, then at Wang Wei’s ridiculously satisfied expression.

Somehow… the gloom in his chest felt a little lighter.

For a moment, he felt like the old version of himself again—the broke guy who’d take two hours of subway rides just to save money on a taxi.

They sat on a park bench, eating ice cream like two idle vagabonds, watching the fountain lights shift in the distance.

“By the way, bro,” Wang Wei nudged him, “remember Young Master Luo from last time?”

Lin Yu’s heart stumbled.

“…Yeah. Why?”

“That guy… seems to be in trouble lately.”

Wang Wei suddenly lowered his voice, trying to sound mysterious.

“You know I’ve got a distant cousin working clerical in the city criminal unit, right? At a family gathering, he got drunk and started bragging.”

“Apparently, that explosion in the abandoned factory in District E? The one on the news? Turns out—it was Luo Shaotian who single-handedly raided the Red City Gang’s arms stash! Fought a dozen thugs! Blew up the whole place! Got hospitalized for ages!”

“And afterward they even gave him some ‘Quarterly Exemplary Officer’ award.”

Wang Wei described it vividly, like he’d filmed the whole thing.

But Lin Yu’s heart turned cold.

He knew the truth behind that so-called heroic tale.

“That’s… good for him, isn’t it?”
Lin Yu forced a smile.
“Being a hero. Winning awards. Isn’t that what he always wanted?”

“Good my ass.”

Wang Wei snorted.

“My cousin said his whole personality changed after he came back.”

Lin Yu’s breath hitched.

“…Changed how?”

“Like a different human.”

Wang Wei leaned closer.

“He’s short-tempered, zero patience. Used to play mind games during interrogation—now he just uses force. The veterans all say the way he looks at suspects feels like he wants to eat them.”

“And the craziest part? Last week.”

Wang Wei swallowed hard.

“They caught some repeat child molester. Bastard wouldn’t confess. Guess what? Luo went in for ten minutes. Ten. When he came out, the guy was slumped in the chair like melted mud, piss and crap everywhere, both arms broken.”

“Someone reported it. Internal Affairs swooped in. Now your ‘hero’ Luo is suspended pending investigation. If it gets serious, he might lose his badge.”

Ice cream dripped down Lin Yu’s fingers, but he didn’t feel it.

Wang Wei’s casual gossip stabbed into him like burning needles.

(Violent… unstable… losing control…)

He remembered Su Xiaoli’s warning:

His body is like a glass about to crack.
If he gets exposed to anything from our side again, that invisible force will hammer at those cracks…

(It was the subspace dust.)
(He was contaminated.)
(…because he came to save me.)
(Everything… happened because of me.)

Guilt surged like a dark tide, swallowing him whole.

He could picture it clearly—every time Luo lost control, the pain he must endure alone, in silence.

The man who once felt like sunlight itself… was being dragged into madness because of him.

“Hey. Bro? You good?”

Wang Wei’s voice pulled him back.

“Ah? Nothing.”

Lin Yu forced a smile.
“Just… feels like a waste. He’s a good guy.”

“Yeah.”
Wang Wei sighed.
“But honestly, I think what he did was right. Scum deserves scummy methods. In this world, good guys get screwed.”

After they parted, Lin Yu refused Wang Wei’s invitation to hit the internet café and walked home alone.

He didn’t take the subway. Just walked.

The bright lights of District F had lost all color.

In his mind, the warnings echoed again and again:

—From today on, stay away from that little junior brother.
—Don’t let him get involved with anything from us again.

It was the safest choice.

Luo Shaotian was a bomb.
And he… was the fuse.

But…

Lin Yu stopped walking and stared at the night sky.

He remembered that moment in the rust-filled factory—the unwavering back that shielded him from danger.

“…”

He lowered his gaze to his clean hands.

He should talk to Luo Shaotian.
At least explain what happened to his body.

Doing nothing might keep him safe—but at what cost?

The buzzing in the distance broke his thoughts.

“Bzz—Bzz—”

The cold contract wristband vibrated sharply.

Lin Yu flinched. The screen flashed with the smiling face of a certain capitalist he knew all too well.

Manager Qian.

(Why is he calling at this hour…?)

A bad feeling crept up his spine.

He hesitated—then answered.

“Hello, Manager Qian. It’s pretty late… what’s going on?”

“Ah, Xiao Lin! Not asleep yet?”

Mahjong tiles clattered in the background.

“Not bothering you, right?”

“No… no.”

“Good, good.”

Manager Qian cleared his throat.

“It’s like this. About your personal equipment that the Zero Division confiscated—I helped you get it back.”

Lin Yu froze.

“…What?”

“Don’t be so shocked.”
Manager Qian chuckled.
“I noticed you’ve behaved well during your paid leave. Didn’t cause trouble. Mental state stable. So I filed a request saying our team is short-handed and needs you back.”

“Zero Division reevaluated you. They lowered your contamination risk from ‘high’ to ‘controlled observation.’ So after some… friendly negotiations… they agreed to temporarily return your Gray Crystal brooch.”

A pause.

“Of course, the collar stays for now. Procedures, you know.”

“The item’s already in my office safe. Swing by early tomorrow and pick it up.”

Lin Yu stood frozen in the chill night air.

“Why so quiet?”
Manager Qian sounded amused.
“Too touched? No need to thank me. Just recover fast—we need you creating value again, hahaha…”

“Anyway, I’ve got another engagement. Don’t forget to come tomorrow. Bye.”

Beep. Beep.

The call ended.

Lin Yu lowered his hand slowly.

He knew Manager Qian’s words were mostly sugar-coated lies. There must have been all kinds of hidden deals and backroom negotiations behind the scenes.

But that didn’t matter.

What mattered was—

He had his strength back.

Shameful, dangerous, flawed—but a strength that could change things.

He opened his contacts.

Found the familiar name.

Typed a message:

“Are you free tomorrow?
There’s something I need to talk to you about…”