Chapter Thirty-Two: Collaboration

Shen Yun could only do her best to hide within the boisterous crowd, hoping to use it as a shield to confuse her pursuers.

Yet as she spotted more and more impostors appearing among the people, she realized that she had been exposed.

No matter how loud the voices or how lively the revelry around her, she still felt like a lone gray rabbit on a field of pristine snow, facing the circling vultures above.

When every sense of safety was pried open and all reason stripped away by fear, hysteria was all that Shen Yun had left.

This young woman, usually so poised and well-connected, lost her composure and bolted onto the street, hounded by ubiquitous masked faces, feeling the world spin as if there was no escape.

Suddenly, a scorching hot hand seized hers, pulling her away from prying eyes and into a secluded alley.

Breathless and unused to running, Shen Yun examined her rescuer.

It was an odd figure, swaddled in a hoodie despite the sweltering heat, hiding every inch of skin. In the dim light, she glimpsed the person’s hands—bald fingers as if without nails, and most tellingly, a familiar wristwatch.

She ventured, “Is it… Lin Jicang?”

The figure said nothing, as if in tacit agreement.

Something felt amiss to Shen Yun. She forced a stiff smile. “Kangshan, do you know what those things are? I’m terrified. Thank you for saving me.”

The strange figure—Lin Jicang—shook his head and rasped, “They’re still searching for you. You’re in danger.”

“What… what’s going on?”

“I don’t know either,” Lin Jicang’s tone was eerily calm. “I just suddenly realized there’s something different about those people. You know that feeling? Like how all mice look the same to humans, but mice themselves can tell one another apart.”

“Tell apart? You mean…”

Shen Yun took a step back, unease prickling her skin.

Lin Jicang pulled back his hood. “I don’t know what happened, but I’ve turned into this.”

Shen Yun gasped.

The tall, gentle, sunny boy she once knew was utterly transformed. Now Lin Jicang looked like a terminal cancer patient undergoing chemotherapy: hollow eyes, withered skin, hairless, dark veins writhing grotesquely beneath the surface.

His skull-like face parted in a grin that revealed gums stripped of teeth.

“I’m dying,” he said.

Shen Yun trembled. “Do you feel any pain?”

Lin Jicang shook his head. “No. In fact, I feel more energetic than ever. I can see farther, hear better. I can even recite pi to a hundred digits now.”

The old tenderness in his words eased some of Shen Yun’s fear. She reached out and touched his leathery skin, shocked by the searing heat and the powerful pulse beneath.

She stared. “You feel… incredibly strong?”

Lin Jicang paused. “You’re very observant.”

Shen Yun gave an awkward laugh and said no more. If not for her keen powers of observation, she wouldn’t have been singled out by those things in the first place.

Lin Jicang looked around suddenly, alarmed. “How are there so many of them?”

At the mouth of the alley, on windowsills, even behind unseen walls, shadowy figures emerged everywhere.

Shen Yun saw countless eyes fix on her—watching, tormenting, coveting.

There were men and women, old and young, even a few with animalistic slit pupils.

Lin Jicang shielded her, trying to fend off the uncanny masks, but though the crowd did not attack him, their numbers and inhuman strength overwhelmed him completely.

The horde closed in around Shen Yun. Despairing, the girl sank to her knees, buried her head, and shut her eyes, awaiting the end.

As a stiff-faced old man reached toward her, another powerful hand seized his wrist.

The stooped elder stared, stunned, at the cold, radiant figure before him. The old man’s grip tightened, but he still could not move.

Che Juchen had appeared in the midst of the crowd, his gaze icy as he swept over the equally expressionless faces.

“What the hell are you things?”

At his taunt, the crowd began to retreat, revealing a haggard Lin Jicang.

Seeing Lin Jicang’s bizarre state, Che Juchen frowned. He tightened his grip, about to subdue the old man, when the withered hand suddenly resisted with shocking force, nearly breaking Che Juchen’s hold.

The two clashed—Che Juchen’s body withstood the contest with superhuman resilience, but the elder’s brittle hand managed to wrench free, snapping bones in the process.

Che Juchen stared at his empty palm, recalling the sensation of something squirming like an insect, his expression growing grave.

The old man, his hand shattered, showed no emotion and swiftly melted back into the crowd, which began to disperse at some unseen signal.

“What are these things… Is this the work of Amherst?” Che Juchen sneered. “No matter. I’ll just capture them all and see for myself.”

He flexed his fingers, a sharp crack splitting the air, and strode forward, a whirlwind at his heels. With a hooked hand, he seized a retreating impostor and snapped its collarbone.

Hissing in agony, the creature’s body spasmed, not from will but from sheer reflex—yet it did not lose its ability to move, struggling with renewed vigor.

“So even this isn’t enough… Looks like I’ll have to get rougher.”

Che Juchen grabbed another by the nape and hurled it. The brutal force jolted through the creature’s limbs, dislocating all twenty-six vertebrae and nearly every joint.

The impostor collapsed, convulsing violently.

Seeing results, Che Juchen discarded it and lunged for two more, crushing their spines with the same technique.

At this rate, when the crowd finally fled, he’d have at least a third of them as captives.

But as he turned to pursue, a sudden chill struck his heart, and he leapt back on instinct.

Three small stones crashed to the ground before him, bursting into puffs of white powder and scattering debris that made him frown. Three small craters appeared in the earth.

“Sir Practitioner, the one waiting for you is me.” Arthur stood on the fire escape of a loft, tossing pebbles as he smiled. “You needn’t trouble yourself with those ordinary split forms.”

If Che Juchen really managed to capture so many split forms, Adonsa would never take such a risk. Each one was precious, and if humanity learned anything from them, Adonsa would become a target for all mankind, with unthinkable consequences.

So Adonsa had decisively sent Arthur to intercept and hold Che Juchen back to secure the retreat.

Eager for battle and hungry to experience his new powers, Arthur flashed a bloodthirsty grin and gladly stepped forward.

He glanced at the frightened Lin Jicang and Shen Yun, frowning.

He sensed a familiar aura from Lin Jicang, and yet, there was something strangely out of place.