Only Wang Defa held the key to the warehouse.
Only Wang Defa had access to the surveillance computers.
And when the police arrived that day, not a single security camera had been turned on.
Qin Siyang was already ninety-nine percent certain he could take care of Liu Dazhi.
Still, he'd triple-checked with Wang Defa—just to be absolutely sure.
He couldn't afford any loopholes, any miscalculations about the leverage Liu claimed to hold. One wrong move, and he'd be the one exposed, tangled up in trouble he didn't need.
In the end, all evidence pointed to one conclusion:
Liu Dazhi had been bluffing.
The so-called "surveillance screenshots" never existed at all.
Liu would never have dreamed that Qin Siyang could pry the truth out of Wang Defa, of all people.
To him, Qin was nothing more than a desperate nobody, a small-time thug scraping by.
Beneath a sky studded with stars and the watchful gaze of the gods, Qin Siyang walked the dimly lit streets, his heart light and elated.
At long last, he could sentence Liu Dazhi to death without reservation.
It had only been two days since Liu first threatened him, but for Qin, those two days had dragged on like an eternity. He'd waited long enough.
He broke into a sprint, rushing to Liu's house as fast as his legs could carry him.
Quietly, he approached the door of Liu's shabby two-story wooden tenement building—each floor crammed with four or five cramped households.
Liu's place was the fourth door on the left side of the second floor.
As Qin drew near, he noticed a pile of garbage heaped outside Liu's doorway.
The stench was revolting, drawing swarms of flies—flies with three or four eyes each, mutated creatures left over from the apocalypse.
The sight of that filth instantly brought Liu's slovenly, unkempt figure to mind.
Qin stepped forward and rapped on the door with his sleeve.
Knock, knock, knock!
"Who's that? It's way too early for visitors!" a grumpy voice called from inside.
Qin lowered his tone, mimicking the gruff rasp of a man in his thirties. "Your neighbor. That garbage outside stinks to high heaven—clean it up, now!"
An annoyed shout shot back. "Mind your own damn business, you psycho! It's not blocking the hallway—just walk around it!"
Seeing Liu had no intention of opening the door, Qin raised his voice, letting anger color his tone. "Open up, you bastard! If you don't dump that trash right now, I'll burn this whole lousy building down!"
"Burn it? We live on the same floor, idiot! You'd burn your own home down too! I'd like to see you try—houses don't grow legs and run away!"
Qin bit back a curse. Starting a fire would trigger the city's [Sequence Ability Alert System].
Once activated, every registered ability user within the vicinity would be placed under immediate scrutiny by the authorities.
That was the last thing he needed. It would make it far too risky to reveal his own ability user status later on—he'd end up on the police department's radar for sure.
Which was exactly why he needed to stage this as a botched robbery-murder.
"If you don't open up, I'm gonna camp right here on your doorstep!" Qin yelled, doubling down on the act. "I'll wait all day if I have to! I know you've got a job to get to—how long do you think you can hide in there? And when you finally do show up to work, I'll report your sorry ass to the boss!"
In this poverty-stricken neighborhood, a steady job was a rare treasure. Even a lowly gig as a cybercafé manager was considered a decent paycheck.
Liu might not care about much in life, but he sure as hell cared about that job.
And it wasn't just the salary.
If he lost his position at the cybercafé, where else would he go to extort money from Qin?
The café was the only place they'd ever crossed paths.
Qin had him dead to rights.
The defiant attitude in Liu's voice instantly deflated.
"Fine, fine! You win! I'll take it out later!"
"I didn't say 'later'—I said now! Move your ass, or I'm not leaving!"
"Alright, alright! Give me a second to put some clothes on, and I'll take care of it!"
Qin heard the rustle of fabric as Liu pulled on some clothes. A moment later, the lock clicked, and the door creaked open a crack.
"I'm coming, I'm—"
His words died in his throat as his eyes rolled back, and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Qin had struck with precise control, landing a sharp uppercut to Liu's jaw the second the door opened. He darted inside in the same fluid motion, catching Liu's bulky frame before it could hit the ground and raise the alarm with a loud thud.
He kicked the door shut behind him and dragged Liu into the back room—all in one seamless, practiced move.
After tying Liu up tight and stuffing a reeking sock into his mouth to muffle any screams, Qin ransacked the small apartment.
The search yielded a paltry few hundred copper coins—barely enough to buy a decent meal.
Qin pocketed the money, making sure to leave the place in disarray to sell the robbery story.
He was just finishing up when a muffled whimper sounded behind him.
He turned to find Liu awake, his eyes wide with terror as they locked onto Qin's face.
Qin frowned, noticing Liu's jaw looked slightly misaligned. He shook his head.
Looks like he'd misjudged his strength after all—he'd probably fractured Liu's jaw with that first punch.
That was a problem.
Spotting a baseball bat leaning against the wall, Qin picked it up and strode over to where Liu lay trembling. He aimed the bat directly at Liu's injured jaw.
Liu thrashed his head wildly, tears streaming down his face as he tried to beg for mercy—then his expression twisted into a snarl, as if he still thought he could threaten Qin.
Qin's lips curled into a cold smile. "You know what I found out when I talked to Wang Defa today?"
Liu froze, his whole body going rigid. His eyes darted back and forth, fixated on Qin's grin as if he were staring straight into the face of the Grim Reaper himself.
Wah! Wah!
Liu shook his head frantically, his face ashen with fear. Even with the sock stuffed in his mouth, Qin could easily guess what he was trying to say.
I'm sorry! I won't do it again! Spare me!
Pathetic, meaningless words.
Qin glanced around the squalid room, littered with comic books and pulp novels. He sighed, shaking his head. "You don't even own a computer, yet you had the nerve to lie to me about having surveillance footage? How stupid can you be?"
With that, he tuned out Liu's muffled pleas and raised the bat.
He held back just enough strength to avoid killing Liu instantly, then swung hard, striking the exact same spot on his jaw.
A sickening crunch echoed through the room. Liu's jaw buckled even further, the bone shattering into several pieces.
"There," Qin muttered, satisfied. "That should cover up the evidence."
Liu let out a gurgled scream of agony, his triangular eyes flooding with tears as pain wracked his body.
Qin walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bucket of cooking oil and a kitchen knife.
"Greed demands a price," he said, his voice cold and flat.
"And I'm here to collect it."
To avoid getting blood on himself, Qin put into action a plan he'd been refining for days.
He grabbed a stack of books, wedged the knife between their pages, and stood them upright on the floor.
After measuring the distance carefully, he hauled Liu to his feet.
Wah… Liu whimpered, his body shaking like a leaf.
Qin planted his foot against Liu's ankle and shoved hard against his back.
The blade slid cleanly into Liu's chest.
Qin propped Liu's body up against the book stack, doused him from head to toe with cooking oil, then struck a match and tossed it onto the corpse.
He watched as the flames engulfed Liu's body, then added the blood-stained books and the rest of the novels scattered around the room to the fire, ensuring they'd be reduced to ashes. Only then did he allow himself to relax.
By the time the entire room was ablaze, Qin slipped out the door and raced down the stairs. Once he was safely outside, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the top of his lungs. "Fire! Fire! Everyone, get out!"
Panicked voices erupted as neighbors poured out of their apartments, staring in horror as flames licked at the second-floor windows of Liu's unit.
"Fire! The building's on fire! Someone call for help!"
"Help? Are you crazy? It's a wooden building—we can't save it! Grab your valuables and run for your lives!"
Qin hid in the shadows, watching as every resident fled the burning tenement. Only when the last person was gone did he slip away into the night.
I'm sorry for dragging innocent people into this, he thought, guilt pricking at his conscience as he ran. But setting this fire was the only way to avoid being tracked by the [Scent Trackers]. The least I could do was warn everyone to escape before it was too late.
To make sure he left no trace of his scent behind, he grabbed a bag of food he'd stashed earlier and activated his [Brute Force] ability, bolting toward the school at breakneck speed.
He stuck to the narrow alleyways, avoiding any passersby who might recognize him.
Along the way, he spotted a filthy drainage ditch. He pulled the handful of copper coins he'd stolen from Liu's apartment out of his pocket and tossed them into the murky water, watching as they sank out of sight. Only then did he feel truly safe.
As he neared the school grounds, he emerged from the alleys and merged onto the main road, walking at a casual pace to avoid drawing attention. He strolled into the school gates as calmly as if he were just arriving for an early morning study session.
Thanks to his enhanced physical abilities and the triple-speed boost from [Brute Force], the entire trip from Liu's house to the school had taken a mere five or six minutes.
From the moment he'd arrived at Liu's door to the second he stepped onto campus, only twenty minutes had passed.
"Timing's perfect," Qin murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Twenty minutes was a little slower than his usual commute to school, but it was close enough to be believable.
A near-flawless alibi.
Now, he just had to wait for the police to label Liu's death as a botched robbery.
In a few days, once the heat died down, he'd head over to the [Sequence Ability Administration Bureau] and officially register his powers.
Being held hostage like that was worse than suffocating, he thought, a cold resolve hardening in his chest. I can never let anyone have that kind of power over me again. From now on, I'll be smarter. More careful.
He kept his expression neutral as he walked through the school halls, betraying no hint of what he'd just done.
No one would ever guess that barely fifteen minutes ago, he'd killed a man.
Instead of heading straight to his classroom, Qin made his way to the school library.
Ms. Zhu was already there, sitting at her desk and sipping a cup of hot water.
"Well, if it isn't young Qin! You're here awfully early today," she greeted him with a warm smile.
"I just wanted to lend a hand," Qin replied. "I figured some students might come by to borrow workbooks early this morning—I can help with the check-outs if you'd like."
"Oh, you don't have to do that! Your studies should come first!" Ms. Zhu protested, waving a hand dismissively. "You run along to your morning self-study session right now!"
Qin grinned, leaning against the counter. "Come on, Ms. Zhu—you know my grades well enough by now. Studying or not, it doesn't make much of a difference for me."
"Besides, I'd rather help you tidy up here than waste my time staring out the window in class. Don't you agree?"
Ms. Zhu sighed, shaking her head fondly. "You and your smart mouth… really, what am I going to do with you?"
With his business with Liu finally settled, Qin had nothing left to do but wait and see how things played out.
There was nothing left for him in the classroom—yesterday's discussion about college admissions for ability users had yielded no useful information at all.
Sitting there zoning out would be a complete waste of time. He might as well help Ms. Zhu lighten her workload.
Qin set down his lunch bag and took his place behind the library counter, waiting for the first students to arrive.
"Excuse me, I'd like to borrow…"
A soft, mumbled voice interrupted his thoughts. Qin looked up—and froze.
It was Wen Shu.
Her face looked even more swollen than it had yesterday.
Qin's brow furrowed. Li Jingwen, he thought angrily. Does she really want to ruin her chances with Zhou Yang that badly?
But on closer inspection, he noticed the swelling was from old bruises, not fresh injuries. A wave of relief washed over him—then he felt a twinge of guilt for jumping to conclusions.
Wen Shu's eyes widened in surprise when she saw him. She quickly looked away, staring at the floor instead of meeting his gaze.
Qin kept his voice casual as he checked out the workbook she'd selected. "Your grandmother must be worried sick about you, isn't she?"
Wen Shu glanced up at him, her eyes unreadable—almost like she was looking at a complete stranger.
Then she shook her head. "She doesn't know."
"Doesn't know?" Qin echoed, confused.
Wen Shu didn't answer. She just grabbed the workbook and hurried out of the library without another word.
Once she was gone, Ms. Zhu sighed, shaking her head sadly. "Her grandmother's elderly—she went blind two years ago. Wen Shu takes care of her all by herself. I doubt the poor old lady even knows her granddaughter's been hurt like this."
She paused, her voice heavy with disappointment. "I just don't understand who could do something like this to a sweet, hardworking girl like Wen Shu. This school… it's not what it used to be. Not since the apocalypse."
Ms. Zhu went on to grumble about the declining morals of the student body for a few more minutes, her words laced with sorrow. She'd been teaching at [Ju'an School] long before the apocalypse hit, dedicating nearly her entire life to the institution. It pained her to see it falling apart.
Qin listened patiently, offering a few words of comfort here and there. But his mind was elsewhere, lingering on Ms. Zhu's words about Wen Shu's home life.
He sighed quietly. He already had more than enough troubles of his own—and yet, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her.
A pang of guilt stabbed at his heart as he thought about the tenants who'd lost their homes in the fire he'd set.
I had no other choice, he told himself firmly. A man has to look out for himself first. Survival isn't pretty. Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices.