Breakthrough
The man in the suit stood at the top of the canned food factory, muttering to himself in a jumbled, incoherent tone—words only he could understand:
“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time!”
The butchers was angered, but he was entirely oblivious to the reversal of roles.
He had recognized them immediately—from the very first second the butchers appeared. These were the animals he had once abused.
Overwhelming fear had consumed him, and so he chose to hide.
When he finally ran into Zhai Huokang, he was treated like dead weight.
This man, who had always considered himself an elite and wrapped himself in civility as a facade, collapsed the moment his mental defenses were breached—tipping straight into another extreme.
In simpler terms, he lost his mind.
He Zhouyan was already looking at him like a dead man.
Without his control, the butchers quickly surrounded the man in the suit.
Wen Yi frowned. “I knew some people abuse animals to cope with stress from work… but I never expected…”
Never expected that such a person had been among them all along.
No one had any sympathy left for someone who had brought this upon himself through cruelty.
No wonder he had been so confident, insisting that nothing strange had happened to him lately. He had no idea the ones waiting for him were vengeful ghosts—far crueler than he could have imagined.
Wen Yi covered her eyes, unwilling to watch the bloodbath that was about to unfold. A sense of helplessness washed over her. She didn’t even know why she was here.
Everyone else had a reason. Whether it was performing strange rituals, possessing cursed objects, or having done something morally wrong—there was a cause.
Only she had entered this nightmare for no reason at all.
And that made her start doubting herself.
Logic told her she was innocent, but another voice inside kept whispering otherwise, feeding the doubt like poison.
The more you fear something, the more your mind fixates on it. And once someone falls into self-doubt, it’s easy to spiral into fear’s trap.
While her thoughts spiraled, the butchers had already climbed the ruins.
The first one grabbed the suited man’s foot. Then a second, a third, a fourth.
They descended on him like hungry beasts fighting over a feast—but their eyes held nothing but hatred and malice.
Lu Congxing had initially thought the man’s sudden madness was a sign of some kind of empowerment.
He’d heard stories before—people entering an illusionary realm and ending up absorbing the realm’s power, becoming the ultimate boss within it.
One such realm was still out there, people said. It had transformed into a pitch-black street that roamed the night, luring lost wanderers to become its next meal.
But sadly, this man in the suit was just truly insane. He thought these animals were still the helpless victims he once controlled.
He only managed to shout a couple of curses before he was dragged down from the top of factory. The butchers pinned him down and began to rip him apart—
Using the most primitive, violent means.
Torn limb from limb.
He Zhouyan reached out to shield someone’s eyes, but even without looking, the gasps and the sickening sounds of bones being torn apart painted the picture clearly enough.
Even in death, the man’s eyes remained wide open—filled with confusion and resentment.
He couldn’t understand why the weak, powerless creatures he used to torment had turned on him. The very lives he had once abused and toyed with had now dragged him into hell.
Lu Congxing pushed the hand away from his face, his tearful eyes steady as he looked across at the bloody scene.
Not a flicker of emotion stirred in him.
Deng Zhi couldn’t stop retching. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the two people watching in silence, completely unfazed. His mind began to reel, blurring the line between reality and nightmare.
It was as if they didn’t even belong to the same world as him.
He watched the man’s gentle, reassuring gestures, then straightened his bent back and tried to make his handsome face appear calm and composed, attempting not to look too disheveled. However, the trembling of his fingertips still betrayed the fear in his heart.
Unfortunately, Lu Congxing didn’t even notice him.
The realm began to distort, and everything around it started melting—clear signs that it had been broken.
But the revenge wasn’t over yet.
These butchers had all once been small animals he had tortured to death. Now, given the chance to take revenge, there was no way they’d let him go so easily.
The soul of the man in the suit struggled to crawl out of his body, which had been torn into several pieces.
Lu Congxing still showed no intention of helping. The newly formed soul looked around in confusion and panic, instinctively trying to run.
But the dog-headed butcher closest to him simply stretched out his hand and grabbed his neck in one swift motion.
Unlike fragile flesh, souls don’t disintegrate so easily. Even if the butcher had enough strength to crush a human skull, the soul wouldn’t die. It could only struggle in pain and hopelessness.
But in front of the butchers, that struggle seemed utterly meaningless—just like the helpless cries of the innocent animals he once abused. Back then, he had shown them no mercy, so now, they showed none to him.
And the pain of the soul was far more unbearable than that of the body.
It was precisely because of the chaotic nature of the realm that the butchers were able to bypass the usual rules and grab hold of the man’s soul.
It wasn’t until dozens of minutes later that the realm fully shattered. It should’ve been an exhilarating moment, but no one felt like celebrating.
Zhai Huokang spoke in despair, “It’s not like it’ll be any better somewhere else. We’ll just suffer all over again. Might as well stay here.”
At least here, with He Zhouyan as the new master of the slaughterhouse, they might be safe.
His words were hard to accept, but not without reason.
For an ordinary person to survive three realms in a row and still remain able to think clearly was already an impressive feat.
Lu Congxing tilted his head thoughtfully, then pulled a business card from the bell and handed it to him. “If you need a job after you get out, contact the number on this.”
After experiencing so much all at once, no amount of Forgetfulness Powder or psychological counseling would make it easy to return to a normal job.
So why not just keep the memories and formally become part of the human special operations unit?
It was a group specifically established to handle supernatural cases, and they also had ties with the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs.
Zhai Huokang gave a bitter smile and muttered, “Let’s just make it out alive first.”
Still, he carefully took the card and tucked it safely into his inner pocket.
Deng Zhi leaned in too, clearly hoping to get contact information—though what he really wanted was Lu Congxing’s personal number.
But just as he opened his mouth, a deafening roar drowned out his words.
Everyone looked up in shock.
A colossal white divine beast—several stories tall—was gazing down at them. Its pale blue vertical pupils seemed to hold entire galaxies. Two massive horns crowned its head, and its fur was completely pristine, save for some light blue markings on its face.
Bai Ze let out another low, melodic call, a sound that seemed to come from the depths of time itself, or perhaps from the dark winds of an unexplored sea.
Even Lu Congxing, seeing the true form of Bai Ze for the first time, was awestruck—let alone the other humans. It was as if the creature had been crafted by the gods, or perhaps was the embodiment of all things. Its vertical eyes held no joy or sorrow, and standing before it, humans felt as small as krill before a whale.
Just hearing its voice was enough to cause mental disorientation. The true form of Bai Ze had a deeply intimidating presence.
And so, none of the humans noticed that He Zhouyan had quietly vanished from where he’d been standing.
All attention had been stolen by this divine creature. They could only stare, transfixed by instinct, their every breath filled with a sense of insignificance.
Bai Ze raised one front paw and brought it down heavily. Even if it had tried to move gently, to the humans, every motion of the divine beast felt like part of a sacred, mysterious ritual.
The ground quaked violently.
Lu Congxing staggered from the tremor, but the next moment, a soft, furry body gently caught and steadied him.
Bai Ze had somehow approached him without him noticing. He turned his head to look at the giant white beast—this divine creature that others spent their entire lives yearning for was now within arm’s reach.
Without hesitation, Lu Congxing reached out and ran his fingers through Bai Ze’s soft white fur.
It was even more irresistible than the finest silk.
The next second, the world fell into silence, as if he had been dropped into a space where only he existed.
After a wave of dizziness, everything returned to calm.
When Lu Congxing opened his eyes again, he was greeted by the familiar sight of minimalist decor.
He had come out of the realm.
Or more precisely, the realm had been completely shattered by Bai Ze, who had returned to his original form.
He Zhouyan was sitting right next to him, watching him intently. He had exited the realm a couple of seconds earlier and had maintained that same position the whole time.
The space between them was so close it felt almost… intimate.
Lu Congxing, at the worst possible moment, remembered the look in the man’s eyes when, back in the realm, he had pinned him down and called him a disobedient little cub through gritted teeth.
That same look was in his eyes now—something Lu Congxing couldn’t quite understand.
But this time, He Zhouyan quickly looked away.
He resumed the role of a dutiful guardian demon, pulling Lu Congxing over to the dining table.
Then he went into the kitchen and made a rich bowl of tomato noodle soup. For the cub’s portion, he even added a poached egg and a little chicken drumstick.
It wasn’t until he saw the cub obediently sitting across from him, eating noodles and occasionally looking up with a soft, shy smile, that He Zhouyan finally felt his tightly wound nerves begin to relax.
This was his cub.
Eating his food, living under his roof, using his things, and carrying his scent from head to toe.
This was a treasure that belonged to him alone.
Bai Ze represents rationality, but the moment he returned home and saw the unconscious cub, he felt a rage he hadn’t experienced in thousands of years.
Fortunately, he managed to find back what he had lost and loved.
He Zhouyan was like an insecure big dog, his eyes constantly following Lu Congxing.
When he saw Lu Congxing put down his bowl and chopsticks, he immediately stood up as well.
Lu Congxing didn’t mind being followed. First, he made a call to Wen Yi.
On the other end of the line, Wen Yi was emotionally unstable. The fate of the man in the suit had completely terrified her, but what she couldn’t figure out was why she had been chosen by the realm.
It’s often the unknown that is the most frightening.
After confirming that Lin Yang had gone to comfort his childhood friend, Lu Congxing finally hung up.
Then, he went to the desk in his room and wrote a report on this entry into the realm.
This was an entirely new kind of environment, one never seen before, so he needed to report this discovery to the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs.
After filing the report, he recited a scripture—a prayer to guide lost souls into the cycle of reincarnation. He wasn’t sure if it could still reach them now that the realm had collapsed, but he still burned incense and finished the chant with solemn care.
It was not only for those who had tragically died inside the realm, but also for the souls trapped within—those who had lost their minds and become killing machines.
After doing all this, he looked a little troubled as he turned to the man who had been sticking to him the whole time. He Zhouyan had been trailing after him like he couldn’t get enough, even dragging a chair close just to sit beside him while he wrote his report.
Sensing his gaze, He Zhouyan looked a bit puzzled, seemingly not understanding what was wrong.
They were both men, after all—yet for some reason, Lu Congxing found it difficult to speak up in this moment.
The way He Zhouyan was acting gave off such a lack of security, Lu Congxing had no doubt that if he didn’t set boundaries, the man would follow him all night—maybe even insist on watching him sleep.
Looking at him, Lu Congxing spoke in a tone as if coaxing a child:
“I’m going to take a shower. Can you wait for me outside, okay?”
Author’s note:
Bai Ze: No, I can’t.