Chapter 72
Even a tyrant would feel aggrieved deep down and long for a comforting kiss.
July flows with fire, and September bestows clothing. The continuous drizzle saturated the yellowing fallen leaves, the gray haze pervaded the streets and alleys, and the vast city was shrouded in endless water vapor.
The weather quickly cooled down.
“The highly anticipated second wave of global evolution has temporarily come to an end, signaling the beginning of larger-scale racial conflicts. In recent days, there have been several small-scale blood clashes between evolutionists and humans in European and American countries, with extreme evolutionist organizations springing up like mushrooms, demanding that governments enact the “Evolutionist Preferential Treatment Act,” including territorial divisions, the establishment of evolutionist autonomous regions, and unilateral trade benefits…”
In the office of the Supervision Office, Shen Zhuo leaned against the window sill.
The screen’s glow reflected on his profile, which had deep contours and a frosty demeanor. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing a hint of forearm muscle, and one hand was in the pocket of his black trousers.
He picked up the remote and casually changed the news channel.
The screen image changed.
On a street in the suburbs of New York City, intense gunfire rang out as a civilian armed squad composed of humans fiercely opened fire, closing in on a residential building. Shortly after, the evolutionists in the house, unable to bear the disturbance, erupted with a burst of supernatural firepower in retaliation, causing even the camera lens to shake with the loud noise.
“…The confrontational situation between European and American countries is becoming increasingly severe, with a sharp rise in public dissatisfaction towards evolutionists and various armed opposition forces spontaneously formed by humans. According to incomplete statistics, Europe has seen the emergence of the ‘Savior Army’ and the ‘Human Defense Army,’ strongly advocating for the unified expulsion of evolutionists, the establishment of high-walled concentration camps, and even the establishment of large-scale human experimentation bases to detain high-level evolutionists…”
“…In stark contrast to the ‘opposition faction,’ more and more humans are voluntarily joining the ‘submission faction.’ They believe that human genes are indeed relatively inferior and that the only way to save the current sluggish global economic situation is to follow the trend of development, allowing evolutionists with superior genes to lead society forward…”
Shen Zhuo’s eyes were heavy as he lifted the half-filled glass of whiskey from the window sill and took a sip, then casually switched to another channel.
On the streets of a certain European country, a tumultuous protest march filled the streets and alleys: “Heretics!” “Expel them!” “Protest against the ‘Evolutionist Preferential Treatment Act’!”…
Colorful protest slogans flashed across the screen, then the camera focused on a particular point.
In the middle of the crowd, many people were holding long banners and portraits. The person in the portrait stood sideways, holding an umbrella, with only the cold white chin visible from beneath the black umbrella edge. Surprisingly, it was Shen Zhuo, as depicted in a media photo from several years ago.
“…Shen Zhuo, one of the top ten permanent supervisors in the world, is now revered by some factions in Europe and America as if he were a deity… Supervisor Shen Zhuo has been investigated multiple times for alleged inhumane experiments using evolutionists and the suspected murder of an S-class evolutionist. The opposition faction believes that Supervisor Shen represents the vanguard of humanity and is the only hope for exterminating evolutionists…”
The voice abruptly stopped.
The projection screen returned to darkness, and Shen Zhuo put down the remote control.
The office remained unlit, the air dim and quiet, with the furniture outlining vague shapes.
Outside the window, the sky was overcast, with a drizzle veiling the vast city in a damp gloom.
Compared to the literal hotbed of turmoil in Europe and America, the situation in Asia could be described as relatively calm.
Though there was a significant increase in superpower-related crimes and social tensions were escalating rapidly, at least in Asia, there hadn’t been large-scale conflicts between extreme “evolutionist factions” and human “opposition factions,” nor the emergence of civilian armed organizations like the Savior Army or the so-called “Evolutionist Preferential Treatment Act.”
This was because the various ambitious forces were still dormant, suppressed by a more brutal and dominant S-class pheromone.
The tyrant hung the three S-class corpses, which had been disemboweled, under the sky, dripping with blood, without saying anything or doing anything.
It was the most direct and effective bloody warning.
Knock, knock.
The slightly ajar office door was knocked twice, then pushed open a crack, and Luo Zhen poked his head in: “Inspector, the car is ready.”
Shen Zhuo slightly turned his head, furrowing his brows.
Luo Zhen had been Shen Zhuo’s driver for three years and was familiar with all his subtle expressions. He cautiously replied, “Did you forget? Mr. Bai messaged earlier, saying he needs to have dinner with you tonight.”
—”Needs” to have dinner together.
It wasn’t “wanted.”
“…” Shen Zhuo remained silent for a moment, finally exhaling slowly, then turned and placed the whiskey glass on the table.
The clear liquid tinkled against the ice cubes, briefly reflecting those cold, black eyes like deep pools.
“Let’s go.” He picked up his coat from the back of the chair, speaking calmly.
***
It had been exactly two days since Bai Sheng last saw Shen Zhuo.
Since the onset of the second wave of global evolution, Shen Zhuo’s busyness has skyrocketed, with countless international conferences one after another. Sometimes, he could even witness the sunrise in Rome, New York, and Sydney all in one day, across different time zones.
Bai Sheng wasn’t idle either, frequently being called out by Chen Miao to help, with a cup of milk tea as payment.
Even in Shenhai, which boasted the best public security globally, dozens of superpower-related cases emerged daily. All action teams in the Shenhai Supervision Office now tacitly recognized Bai-ge as the de facto overall commander.
Yang Xiaodao was staying in the dorms, and Chu Yan had to visit her parents out of town for something urgent. Today, the action team finished exceptionally early, and Bai Sheng returned home happily around three in the afternoon.
As an outstanding “bossy president,” it was impossible for him to return home and not cooking. He hummed a tune while steaming fish, cooking sweet and sour spare ribs, and making tender beef in sauce. The dishes were elegantly presented, and after taking photos and posting them on his social media, he quickly garnered rows of likes within thirty seconds. Satisfied, Bai Sheng put away his phone just as the doorbell rang.
Moments later, the door opened, and Shen Zhuo swiped his fingerprint to enter, casually shaking off raindrops from his umbrella.
“Hey, darling,” Bai Sheng took the inspector’s black coat and hung it on the coat rack by the door, then turned to plant a kiss on Shen Zhuo’s slightly cool cheek. “You’re off work early today?”
Shen Zhuo took off his gloves and placed them on the tray by the entrance, saying lightly, “Aren’t I here to have dinner with you?”
Bai Sheng paused momentarily at the remark, but it was just a fleeting detail.
“Well, the way you say it, it’s like you wouldn’t eat dinner alone,” he chuckled, seemingly unfazed, “Come try this fish.”
In this house, Shen Zhuo already had his own designated cup, toothbrush, and towel. Their pajamas hung side by side in the closet because, since returning to Shenhai last time, Shen Zhuo had spent at least four or five nights a week sleeping at Bai Sheng’s place.
Even during those two or three days when he worked overtime and slept at the supervision office, Bai Sheng would often carry his own small pillow and go to accompany him. The two squeezed tightly on the single bed in the office suite’s living room, resulting in countless accidental touches in the early morning, prompting Shen Zhuo to eventually have a larger bed installed in his office.
They both tacitly avoided mentioning the topic of “status” again, but to outsiders, it seemed unnecessary.
Only couples could get along so harmoniously and intimately.
Outside the window, the autumn rain drizzled softly, but the dining room on the top floor of the penthouse was bright and warm. Shen Zhuo had unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt collar, his hair jet black, and his cheeks snow white amidst the warm steam. After tasting a bite of steamed fish, he nodded in response to Bai Sheng’s expectant gaze and uttered two words: “Not bad.”
“Not bad, right?” Bai Sheng said contentedly. “Do you know where I got this fish from?”
The fish was steamed with Chaozhou plum sauce and was tender, sweet, and rich in oil. It had a unique fruity aroma, with scales intentionally left intact, covering its body. Shen Zhuo flipped over a piece of the crispy and tender fish scale with his chopsticks and chuckled, “An inspector from the Malaysian Supervision Office treated me to this during a business trip before. He said he spent a fortune to acquire it overnight, but the whole fish weighed only about four or five kilograms, and the cooking was relatively ordinary. Judging by the size of the lip and wings of this fish, the whole fish should weigh over ten kilograms.”
“What? Malaysian Supervision Office?” Bai Sheng’s burning competitive spirit couldn’t be restrained. “What good stuff can they find? I had this whole fish specially air-freighted from East Malaysia! A whopping thirteen kilograms of pure wild Empurau, and they only catch one fish king like this locally every year!”
Shen Zhuo picked up half a piece of fish lip meat for him, but Bai Sheng was too preoccupied to eat, grabbing his phone with a skeptical expression. “Who is this Malaysian inspector? Male or female? How old? What class? Do they have a photo? Let me search…”
“Forget it,” Shen Zhuo stuffed the fish into his mouth, “He’s just a B-class; eat your food.”
Bai Sheng stubbornly used Shen Zhuo’s phone to search the internal network and found that the Malaysian inspector was nowhere near as handsome as himself, so he relaxed.
The dense drizzle dampened the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, and the air flowed gently, with only the faint sound of utensils. Shen Zhuo shook his head to indicate that he was full, letting Bai Sheng eat the last piece of the most tender fish lip meat. He then leaned back in his chair and took a sip of Pu’er tea.
“The International Supervision General Administration did a detailed sampling of the scene of the building collapse that night, and the lab results came out today.”
Shen Zhuo paused, lowering his gaze to the swirling tea aroma, and said in a deep voice, “Rong Qi’s blood DNA was found on the ground.”
Bai Sheng seemed to be eating elegantly, but he was actually like a storm sweeping away clouds. He mumbled vaguely, “That kid probably didn’t die, right?”
Shen Zhuo nodded, “Analysis of the scene revealed residual energy from the space tunnel that was once opened. It is speculated that while you triggered the law of causality, he cut off a part of his own body and threw it into the space tunnel, hence the blood traces on the ground.”
“Tsk, I figured as much.” Bai Sheng casually wiped his mouth and said, “The law of causality’s out-of-control radius is only 3000 meters, so the evolution source dust goes straight up into the troposphere…”
The average height of the troposphere above ground is ten kilometers. If you want to wipe out all the evolution sources as much as possible, then the ground must definitely be outside the range of the law of causality’s killing radius, otherwise, it won’t reach the meteorite dust that has already floated up to the sky.
In other words, when the law of causality is triggered, Rong Qi, who was close to the ground, has to be at the very edge of the 3000-meter killing radius.
It was because of this that he dared to make a desperate move and throw his severed limb out of the killing range at the last moment before being wiped out.
“The good news is that whole-body regeneration takes time, and the intensity of abilities should be discounted after regeneration.” Shen Zhuo sighed and muttered, “I hope the discount applies to his backlash damage…”
Bai Sheng cleared the tableware and headed to the kitchen, patting Shen Zhuo’s neck from behind as he passed by. It was a very intimate and casual gesture.
“He doesn’t need a discount. He can be ten times more powerful, for all I care. Next time, I’ll kill that Japanese A-class who can’t control his own claws first, gut him, burn him to ashes, and see how that Rong guy still uses the space tunnel like a bereaved dog.”
Shen Zhuo turned his head, watching Bai Sheng’s leisurely figure as he walked into the kitchen.
“…”
He subconsciously touched his neck, where the bloodstain that Shunsuke Noda had wiped away with his thumb had completely healed, leaving no trace.
But the warmth left by Bai Sheng’s palm was like burning iron, flowing into his heart through the blood vessels, leaving a mixed taste.
***
Although there was a housekeeper who came regularly, Bai Sheng was willing to do some housework himself. He effortlessly threw the dishes and utensils into the dishwasher, hummed a tune while wiping the table, and even used his ability to carefully cut peach slices into heart shapes.
Shen Zhuo took a shower, and as he came out, he caught sight of Bai Sheng leaning back on the spacious sofa, nibbling on the triangular pieces of peach he had cut, frowning at his textbook on medical biochemistry. Even from afar, Shen Zhuo could see the puzzled expression on his face.
Shen Zhuo chuckled and was about to go to the bedroom to put on his pajama pants when he heard Bai Sheng behind him lift his head from the book, “Darling.”
He turned around.
Bai Sheng was leaning back on the sofa, legs stretched out wide, lazily patting the space in front of him, holding a piece of peach in his hand, smiling invitingly, “Come, have a taste.”
Shen Zhuo paused for a few seconds.
The air was romantic yet filled with hidden currents. The master bedroom only had a small lamp on, and the interplay of light and shadow made it hard to discern the gaze of the Shenhai City chief supervisor.
After a moment, he indeed lifted his foot and walked over, stopping in front of Bai Sheng. He slightly bent down and ate the peach slice cut into a heart shape from the silver fork held in Bai Sheng’s hand.
This face-to-face position placed Shen Zhuo standing between Bai Sheng’s wide-open legs. When he leaned down, their breaths intertwined, and through the open collar, he could see the beautiful neck and collarbone. Bai Sheng’s breathing almost immediately became heavy.
Just as Shen Zhuo was about to stand up, his left hand was firmly grasped by Bai Sheng’s iron-like fingers.
“Shouldn’t you be kissing me?”
Although it was a question, Bai Sheng’s tone was flat, but his voice was dark and deep:
“You haven’t kissed me of your own accord in a long time.”
With one leaning back and the other bending forward, they were just inches apart, with dangerous undercurrents silently surging through the air.
“…”
Shen Zhuo didn’t try to break free, maintaining the posture as he looked down at Bai Sheng, his gaze slightly complex.
From any angle, Bai Sheng was a very attractive young man, with distinct eyebrows, a hint of charm in his eyes, and a smile that seemed intoxicated yet sober. Perhaps because his jawline was tightly defined, his face appeared handsome and refreshing, with clean skin that often emitted a pleasant scent.
But the strength in his hand was entirely different.
This hand could tear an S-class evolutionist into pieces, open flesh and extract organs, crush skulls into powder, and arbitrarily force millions of people to bow down, with the power of life and death resting in his whim.
Becoming a king or falling into darkness—it all lies completely within a single thought.
From the depths of Shen Zhuo’s eyes, it was impossible to discern what he was thinking. After a while, he gently raised his right hand, and his fingertips grazed Bai Sheng’s sharp eyebrows, then moved to his temples, eyes, and nose before tracing a line across the corner of his lips.
“…” Bai Sheng looked into his eyes and finally whispered, “You’re afraid of me.”
There was no doubt—just a straightforward and soothing statement.
In that instant, the wind on the rooftop, tinged with the scent of rust, once again howled through the void, filling their ears and brushing against their clothes.
But Shen Zhuo didn’t answer, only saying lightly, “Don’t think too much.”
He lowered his eyelashes and leaned in for an initiating kiss, but just before their lips touched, Bai Sheng blocked him with his hand, and the kiss fell into the palm of his hand.
Their gazes met for a moment.
Bai Sheng released his hand, his palm brushing against Shen Zhuo’s slightly damp black hair. He seemed to be contemplating something; his expression was unexpectedly hesitant and solemn. After a while, the Adam’s apple in his throat moved up and down.
As if making a decision, he took Shen Zhuo’s hand and stood up from the sofa.
“…I want to take you somewhere.” Bai Sheng glanced at the time, his gaze fixed on Shen Zhuo’s eyes, “It’s important to me, and I have something I want to tell you.”
***
On this autumn night, the fine rain pattered incessantly through the twilight, appearing densely on the windshield of the car window, only to be swept away in a semi-circle by the wipers.
The scenery outside the car window gradually changed from the bustling city center to a remote and sparse area. The vast wilderness on the outskirts of the city undulated in the darkness, and Bai Sheng skillfully stopped the car at the foot of the mountain.
Shen Zhuo squinted his eyes and looked out the window.
Bai Sheng had brought him to the Shenhai City Cemetery.
The night was already quite cold, and the marble steps were slightly slippery from the rain. The trees and grass on both sides of the road emitted the damp smell of earth. The tombstones here were spaced far apart, and Bai Sheng walked confidently along the familiar bluestone path, holding an umbrella, until he reached a white joint burial monument.
Shen Zhuo kept his hands in his coat pockets and looked at the black-and-white photo of Bai Sheng’s parents.
“After we came out of the daydream, I came here once and told them that one day I would bring you here to introduce you to them.” Bai Sheng casually wiped away the water stains on the photo, saying, “Because it feels like it’s not formal without meeting the parents, as if we’re just fooling around.”
Shen Zhuo rarely visited his own parents’ graves, but he remained silent and just turned his head to look at Bai Sheng’s sharp profile in the night.
“Traditionally, you’re supposed to bring a gift when you visit someone’s house for the first time…” Bai Sheng muttered to himself for a moment, “Oh well, I’ll make up for it tomorrow.”
Despite the heavy atmosphere between them, a hint of resignation flickered across Shen Zhuo’s lips.
“When you were a child, who cooked at home?” Bai Sheng suddenly turned his head to ask.
Shen Zhuo replied, “I don’t remember, maybe it was the staff who delivered the meals.”
Those mundane household and outside matters were far from Shen Zhuo. After all, with his parents’ academic status, there were probably a bunch of graduate students waiting to help the teachers pour water, even for a sip. There were also dedicated staff to take care of the children.
Bai Sheng chuckled briefly, looking at the tombstone and taking a deep breath with a hint of nostalgia.
“When I was young, our family company was very busy, but whenever the nanny went back to her hometown, it was my dad who cooked,” he reminisced, still able to recall the taste to this day. “Because he was really good at making sweet and sour pork ribs, unlike my mom, who always burned the sugar caramelization every time. He could even prepare six different kinds of dumpling fillings, and during festivals, he would make his own sweet wine and rice cakes.”
“…” Shen Zhuo murmured softly, “Your parents must have had a good relationship.”
Bai Sheng nodded and made a thoughtful sound.
“At that time, when they came back from the company, I would be watching the Little Dragon Club cartoons in the living room. My mom would sit at the dining table, writing receipts for the accountant, and my dad would be clattering around in the kitchen, frying ribs. After cooking, my dad would say: ‘You have to kiss me before you can serve the rice.’ My mom would ask why, and my dad would say, ‘I’ve been busy for half a day, covered in grease and haven’t washed my hands. Don’t I deserve a kiss from you?'”
There was a touch of sadness in Bai Sheng’s eyes, but his tone carried a hint of amusement.
“They were both in their forties at the time, always ready to give a kiss or a hug, walking hand in hand down the street. My mom complained to people that she married a husband as sticky as the rice cakes made for the New Year, and my dad said, ‘Isn’t fairness the most important thing in a family? I’ve done everything according to your wishes. When we go out, everyone thinks I’m your personal photographer. I just want to be sticky, what’s wrong with that? Isn’t it fair?'”
“…”
The concave puddles on the flagstones rippled in the drizzle, and no one spoke, even their breaths were audible.
Bai Sheng held the umbrella with one hand, his gaze distant and dreamy.
“What a person initially possesses is the undertone that they can never change in their lifetime. If I could choose, I would also like to wash myself back to my original state, pretending that evolution never happened and all the power, domination, killing, and tyranny… would just be an absurd dream.”
“Family matters, trivial matters, protecting the things I cherish, and having the people I love.” Bai Sheng smiled faintly. “It’s like when I used to go for a walk after dinner as a child, watching my parents walk hand in hand ahead of me.”
“A twilight full of smoke from cooking in every household—that is the undertone of my life. I don’t have the ambition of a hero in troubled times.”
Looking out from halfway up the mountain, the distant horizon behind Bai Sheng was filled with endless city lights.
Countless halos of light from thousands of households spread out like a vast sea of stars in the vast mist.
After a while, the trailing sigh finally disappeared into the sound of rain. Shen Zhuo reached out his hand from his coat pocket and gently held Bai Sheng’s slightly cool palm.
“I wasn’t afraid of you,” he whispered softly. “I just… had a little concern.”
The neon lights of the city in the rain outlined a faint light in Bai Sheng’s eyes. After a moment, he reached back and held Shen Zhuo’s hand, humming lowly, “I know. And now?”
Shen Zhuo didn’t say anything, but he tightened his grip on Bai Sheng’s palm.
They had passed the stage where everything needed to be expressed in words. The subtle emotions and expectations were tacitly understood in their gaze, and the irresistible attraction entwined them in a myriad of threads that were hard to unravel.
Bai Sheng looked at Shen Zhuo; even though he was taller, he had a feeling of looking up expectantly. His lips moved subconsciously.
Even a tyrant would feel aggrieved deep down and long for a comforting kiss.
Pretending not to see, Shen Zhuo said, “Let’s go, it’s late. Remember to remind me to bring flowers next time.”
“…”
Bai Sheng turned around awkwardly. If he were in his wolf king form right now, his erect ears would surely droop down. He grumbled, “Oh. The road is a bit wet, be careful…”
Before he could finish, his chin was grabbed by Shen Zhuo’s hand, forcing him to lower his head, where he saw a hint of a smile in the Chief Supervisor’s eyes.
A tender and gentle kiss covered his face.
The umbrella fell to the ground, splashing scattered droplets.
Their body temperatures and heartbeats intertwined seamlessly, as if the whole world gradually faded away with the warmth of the tide, leaving only two closely entwined, slender figures.
Their breath dissolved into the boundless mist, like a long song winding through the distant sea of lights.
“If you dare to turn into a wolf again tonight, I’ll pluck out this tuft of white hair on your head tomorrow and let you flaunt it like highlights in the civil servant crowd…”
“What? Wait, what did my white hair do wrong? It grew out by itself after evolution!”
“Then let it grow again.”
“Don’t do it, darling! What if tomorrow hundreds of thousands of evolutionist beings across Asia think the tyrant is bald…”
The voice of grievance drifted further away along the mountain road.
The two figures holding hands gradually disappeared into the night, until the end of the mountain road, where one suddenly threw the umbrella away, grabbed the other one like a bandit, and deliberately ran through a puddle, splashing water and laughter intertwining and swirling into the gentle and vast night sky, echoing for a long time.
[End of Volume 3]
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