Chapter Eleven: The Urgent Mission

Alcohol, that thing—sometimes you think it's a blessing, and sometimes, damn, it really is. It can rouse your weary spirits, embolden the timid to take on the world, and let the despondent cast aside all reservations and indulge without restraint.

But then, there are times when it’s nothing but trouble.

After that brief rush, it leaves you with a pounding head and a feeble body the next day. When the courage seeps away, you’re left with the ignominy of others recounting your antics. In the wake of reckless abandon, you’re haunted by a hollow emptiness inside. In this world, one careless night could see you dead in a ditch.

As midnight deepened, even the most bustling streets gave way to slumber.

The last to leave Bus Ninety-Nine were Ye Chen and Jin Yinghui. Manager Zhou, too, looked utterly exhausted, his hair tousled, as he silently walked the two men to the door.

Carrying the heavy scent of liquor, he gave a final admonition: “Take care on the way! Get Old Jin home safe for me!”

Ye Chen waved in acknowledgment. The two men leaned on each other, vanishing into the night.

...

Staring at the dark road ahead, Ye Chen mumbled incoherently, “Old Jin, tell me, you don’t really want me out there fighting in the wilds anymore, do you? Afraid I’ll end up buried somewhere out there?”

“Mm.”

“But sometimes I think—aren’t men scarier than beasts?”

“Mm.”

Ye Chen glanced at Jin Yinghui’s drooping head. “Are you my son?”

“Mm.”

Ye Chen chuckled. “Thank you, big brother.”

“Mm.”

By this hour, many of the shops that once glowed with pink neon had drawn down their shutters. In the upstairs windows of a few, shadows flickered behind the light—old men toiling, sweat gleaming in the joy of their labors.

The winter night wind swept the deserted streets, biting cold threading through the darkness, rattling empty bottles in the alleys with a hollow clatter.

Ye Chen could hear someone beside him starting to snore softly.

Their steps were slow and unsteady, the wan moonlight stretching their swaying shadows long across the pavement.

Summoning his willpower, Ye Chen lifted his head to peer down the street. Suddenly, a strange mark on the road ahead caught his eye.

It ran straight from the roadway into a nearby alley.

Ye Chen’s expression sharpened, the fog of drink clearing in an instant—his hunter’s instinct warning him that something was very wrong.

There hadn’t been any mark like this on their way here tonight... Ye Chen was certain.

It looked like a drag mark, left by something being pulled along.

As they drew closer, Ye Chen hefted Jin Yinghui up a bit, freeing one hand to slip silently into his jacket.

He cast a furtive glance toward the depths of the alley.

At that moment, the task board in Ye Chen’s mind suddenly flashed a new mission:

[Emergency Task]
[Protect the friend who truly cares for you.]

The instant the voice sounded, Ye Chen shuddered violently.

Danger! There really is danger!

A guttural, almost growling snore echoed from the darkness.

At the same time, Ye Chen glimpsed a shadow flicker at the edge of light and darkness, accompanied by a rank, foul stench.

From the moment the voice sounded in his mind to the instant the unknown figure lunged from the alley, scarcely a second passed.

There was no time to curse the lateness of the warning—at least he’d been prepared.

Now, he had to face the crisis before him.

He needed to save the dead-drunk Jin Yinghui and get himself out alive.

They were barely two meters from the alley when the shadow lunged. The wind it carried stank, and it arrived in a heartbeat.

Ye Chen’s body reacted before his mind could catch up—if he’d waited for his alcohol-dulled brain, it would’ve been too late.

All he had now was the experience earned from facing mutated beasts, and muscle memory.

He seized Jin Yinghui by the collar and yanked him back with all his might, falling backward himself.

His right hand flashed from his jacket, clutching a broken blade.

He poured his inner power into the weapon, conjuring a hunter’s knife of full length.

Ye Chen’s blade sliced through the air, plain but deadly, as if he meant to carve open the night sky itself.

He didn’t dive forward to dodge the attack; though that might have worked, it would’ve slowed his counterattack.

And in a fight for your life, everything came down to a single instant.

Beast—this is the city, not the wilds. There’s no room for you here... Ye Chen cursed silently.

Wilderness Law Number Three:

When faced with a beast attacking you, never show fear.

Beasts have no feelings—they won’t spare you just because you beg.

Only by fighting back with all your might can you hope to survive.

But the blade missed.

It was too short.

As he fell back, Ye Chen saw a shadow flash past them and dart into the alley across the street.

The attacker wasn’t human.

Its target seemed to be him. Could it sense that he was the greater threat?

Ye Chen reached his conclusion in an instant.

No time for further thought. As he hit the ground, his muscles recoiled like springs, catapulting him upright without even touching the ground for support.

He rolled sideways over Jin Yinghui, dropped to one knee, and raised his blade, now invisible and deadly, ready once more.

His gaze was cold and sharp, locked on the darkness.

Focus. Hold your breath. Steady your mind. Gather your strength.

He couldn’t run. With Jin Yinghui on his back, there was no outrunning their pursuer.

He could abandon Jin Yinghui and maybe save himself—but the thought never even crossed his mind.

Large beads of sweat trickled down his cheeks.

Ye Chen felt as though he were back in the wilds. Only now, he was prey under the moonlight, and the hunter waited in the alley across from him.

Neither moved. Somewhere in the darkness, a pair of eyes watched Ye Chen.

Drool dripped from the creature’s mouth, spattering on the filthy ground with a steady patter. Its breath rose in white clouds in the winter night.

A hint of a smile, eerily human, curled at its lips.

Clang!

A sudden crash erupted from the shadows of the alley—the sound of a drunken lout kicking over a trash can, or so it seemed.

Ye Chen saw a half-full garbage bin come hurtling from the depths of the alley, flying straight at him.

He didn’t swing his blade at the can, but shifted his weight and sprang aside.

With a muffled thud that echoed down the silent street, Ye Chen unleashed a burst of speed that startled even himself, launching himself into the darkness like a bolt of lightning.

The creature in the shadows seemed taken aback by the sudden counterattack.

In the next instant, a hunter’s blade, longer than any normal knife, flashed through the dark.

A strange, inhuman scream echoed through the alley.

The shadowy beast sprang onto the wall, then vaulted behind it, vanishing without a trace.