Chapter 00121: Dusk
# Dusk
Chapter 121
Novel: Above Destiny
Chapter 121: Dusk
The room was in disarray, and the dim light of the approaching dusk made the atmosphere even gloomier.
In this rented house, silence reigned, broken only by the spreading anger.
Thud, thud, thud, thud...
In the midst of the low, muffled sounds, the scar-faced captain had just returned from outside.
After slamming the door shut, he glanced at the lookout in the corner.
After confirming that the area was secure, he could no longer contain his rage.
He threw his hat to the ground, kicked a chair aside, and roared, "Have you lost your mind today? Do you understand that this isn't the Central Plains? If you push the Security Bureau too far, do you think we can even leave Haizhou alive?!"
"All you do is kill, kill, kill! Do you think we're here to play around? We're here to make money, not to kill for fun! Do you get it? Without money, who's going to pay for your treatment? Do you even know how many people are looking for us out there? Now what? No money, no way out. We're just waiting to die, damn it!"
Thud, thud, thud...
No one responded to his outburst, which only fueled his anger further.
"Herbert, I'm talking to you! Do you hear me?"
"Heh..."
By the table, Herbert leaned against the wall, his head bumping against it rhythmically.
His face bore a hollow smile, his expression twitching intermittently.
On the table, a piece of foil lay open, traces of powder still visible.
"Captain, it's my fault. I know I shouldn't have... I was wrong..."
Lost in the haze of the drugs, Herbert's pupils dilated as he gasped for breath.
"I know, but there are voices... the sound of dripping water, the sound of bells, the sound of people talking... It's so chaotic..."
"I'm so tired, but I can't sleep."
His eyes were bloodshot, growing redder as he twitched.
"When I close my eyes, the voices are everywhere. Like ants, crawling all over the walls, in my veins... I can't find them."
In his hollow laughter, he clawed at his arms and neck, drawing blood.
The sticky liquid clung to his fingers, and he licked it tentatively, as if entranced.
He began gnawing at his fingers, unable to stop, even as blood dripped down.
The captain's expression grew grim, as if facing a formidable enemy.
He grabbed Herbert's arm and inspected it.
"Where's the medicine? Didn't you take it?!"
At his feet lay a bulging backpack.
But when he opened it, he found only a pile of used syringes.
A month's worth of suppressants had already been injected.
Now, it was empty.
"I took it, I took it all... but it didn't work, Captain. The voices... they're getting louder, right in my head."
Herbert twitched, banging his head against the wall repeatedly.
His smile grew more hollow and eerie, and a sticky crimson began to creep into his eyes.
"No matter what I do, I can't kill them all... Heh, hehehe... If I just kill them all, it'll be quiet... so quiet..."
In that moment, his scattered, hollow eyes focused once more, glowing with a menacing light.
Crimson tears slowly trickled down from the corners of his eyes.
"I found it," he said.
In that instant, as his sanity shattered, something monstrous emerged from the ruins of his soul.
When Old Zhang kicked open the door, breaking through the illusion set up by the Mirror Sect, all he saw was a scene of utter devastation.
Severed limbs and shattered organs were splattered across the walls.
The walls, floor, and ceiling were all broken, riddled with holes.
A scarred head rolled slowly to his feet.
The severed head still bore traces of its former expression—grief, anger, sorrow, and a hint of numbness.
It was too complex, blurred by death, impossible to decipher.
In the empty corner, faint, intermittent breathing could be heard.
"Get out here!" Old Zhang roared, his hand sweeping through the air.
A gust of wind surged, thunder rumbled, and the illusion set by the Mirror Sect disintegrated.
All that remained was a blood-soaked figure, a gaping hole in his chest, barely clinging to life.
"Help me... please, help me..."
Seeing someone burst in, the survivor no longer cared about his identity or the potential judgment he might face.
He begged desperately, "Save me..."
Old Zhang remained indifferent.
He silently surveyed the surroundings, stepping through the blood, approaching the survivor.
He looked down at him, his hand raised but not extended.
Between his fingers, a pure, glowing strand of vitality appeared, coiling and illuminating the survivor's desperate eyes.
"Tell me what happened."
"It's Herbert! That lunatic Herbert!" The survivor babbled incoherently in his panic.
"He's gone mad, completely out of control! The medicine didn't work..."
In that moment, Old Zhang turned to Xiao An, his expression grim.
Both of them realized the worst had happened.
Corruption!
A Chosen One had lost control and corrupted! And not just any Chosen One—this was one of the most skilled killers in the group!
"Where did he go?!" Old Zhang grabbed the survivor by the neck, forcing him to stay conscious.
"When did he leave? Speak!"
"Just now... he just left, a few minutes ago. Through the back window... I don't know, I really don't know!"
The survivor wailed, pleading, no longer the cruel killer he had been in the bar.
"Save me, please, I beg you!"
But Old Zhang didn't move.
Instead, he asked one final question:
"Who hired you?"
In that instant, a shrill scream erupted from within the room.
From the writhing shadows, a hand suddenly appeared, clutching a barely visible, formless dagger.
It thrust toward the survivor in Old Zhang's grip!
Crack!
Xiao An was the first to react.
The moment he sensed the attacker, he turned and fled without hesitation, moving at incredible speed.
In an instant, he was gone, chasing after the trail Herbert had left behind.
He didn't spare a thought for Old Zhang's safety—or rather, he didn't believe Old Zhang could possibly be in any danger.
The blade struck Old Zhang's seemingly ordinary, withered hand.
The loose skin covered brittle bones, and the veins on the back of his hand were clearly visible.
Such a frail hand, yet when it met the blade, it shone with a golden radiance.
Sparks flew, but the blade was useless.
However, a line of green began to spread from where the blade had touched the skin.
Poison!
Old Zhang's mind stirred, and the spreading poison was forced back, dripping from his fingertips with a sizzling sound.
"Trying to silence him?" Old Zhang glanced at the shadowy figure hidden in the darkness, a faint smile on his lips.
"Isn't it a bit late for that?"
"Old man, is it really worth risking your life for a few hundred bucks? Why not just retire and enjoy your pension?" The hidden Chosen One's voice was hoarse.
"If it's not necessary, I don't want to fight the Security Bureau. Let him go, and we can pretend nothing happened. How about that?"
"Bai Lu again..."
Old Zhang fell silent, staring at the figure for a long time before slowly nodding.
"To be honest, I have no interest in your internal conflicts. I don't want the kids to get too involved in this mess. They're good kids, with bright futures ahead of them. They shouldn't be dragged into the dog-eat-dog fights between scum like you."So, handing this guy over to you isn't a big deal.
"No need to be so tense."
With that, he tossed the desperate survivor onto the ground between them, completely indifferent.
The Chosen One who had come to silence the survivor was momentarily stunned.
He hadn't expected the Security Bureau to be so... accommodating.
But then, he heard the old man's voice again.
"... However, I need you to do me a favor."
The old man lowered his gaze, looking at the wrinkles and bloodstains on his hand.
He couldn't help but sigh softly.
He had spent his entire life in the Security Bureau, fighting one tough battle after another.
How had he ended up like this in his old age? Back in his thirties and forties, when he had followed the first bureau chief, they had been so full of ambition, as if the entire world was waiting for them to change it.
But now, in the blink of an eye, everyone had grown old.
Some had died, others had retired.
Only he, the lucky one who had lived the longest, remained.
Day after day, year after year, he clocked in and out of work, unwilling to continue but also unwilling to leave.
He was just waiting for death, his ambitions long gone.
And the world had turned into this mess.
So much so that even scum like Bai Lu dared to stir up trouble in Yacheng, and even lowlifes like this one had the audacity to show off in front of him.
It was laughable.
If the old bureau chief could see this, he would probably laugh until he cried.
But he was dead.
He had died many years ago...
Old Zhang stared out the window at the dusky sky and suddenly said, "I'm in a bad mood. I need to vent."
"So—"
He pleaded, "Just don't die too quickly."
Boom!!!
In that instant, before the shadowy figure could respond, before he could even react...
The shadows trembled, the figure within them seemed to freeze, overwhelmed by the volcanic eruption of Old Zhang's fury.
For a moment, his consciousness seemed to cut off.
What happened? What just happened? What's... happening to me?
In the midst of unprecedented pain, the man lying in the rubble finally realized what was going on.
He couldn't lift his arms or move his legs.
His body was riddled with holes, like a broken doll.
It felt like someone had punched him.
And then, he remembered nothing.
Why is this place like this? Where was I just now? Wait, who am I?
He couldn't remember.
Everything was gone.
All he felt was an overwhelming fear and despair.
"Good, as expected of Bai Lu."
A voice came from afar, echoing through the holes in the dozen or so walls he had smashed through.
A unfamiliar face appeared through the dust, nodding in approval.
"Tough as nails!"
But this face was no ordinary flesh and blood.
It was a radiant golden, more like metal than skin, dignified and divine.
With the blessings of the Transformation Stage—Iron Bones, Copper Heart, and Divine Spirit—forged over decades, even centuries, of relentless refinement, this was the result: a body that could withstand anything, a legend that would shock the world—
—The Indestructible Golden Body!
Tracing back to the origin, reversing time, from the age of ignorant mortals, the legendary "Golden Humans" had reappeared.
To call it evolution would be an understatement; to call it regression would be an insult.
This was the pinnacle of human essence and bloodline, the radiance of the origin!
"Don't worry, we can play for a long time."
In a single step, the old man crossed hundreds of meters, now standing right in front of the terrified Chosen One.
He looked down at him and suddenly grinned.
"I hope you don't die too quickly."
In that moment, an indestructible iron fist, brimming with vitality like a waterfall, clenched.
Mercy and destruction converged in his five fingers.
And thus, he brought down devastation upon the stunned face before him.
Boom!!!!
(End of Chapter)