Chapter Twenty-Two: The Wind of the Fist

Wang Ruo stared wide-eyed at Yang Luo’s upright figure, as if witnessing an alien creature emerging from the earth.

“You are… Yang Luo… But didn’t you… you know…?”

“I went to the hospital again. It was a misdiagnosis. The shadow on my heart was just an imaging error,” Yang Luo replied calmly, repeating the explanation he had given his parents before.

“Oh,” Wang Ruo said, adopting an expression of sudden understanding, though a trace of doubt lingered. Not long ago, he had seen Yang Luo collapse before him with his own eyes, and it was Wang Ruo himself who had sent him to the hospital.

But facts speak louder than words. Yang Luo stood before him, looking healthy and unwilling to elaborate. So there was no need to press further.

Giving Wang Ruo little time to think, Yang Luo pointed to the girl beside the wheelchair and asked, “May I ask who she is?”

Wang Ruo seemed reluctant, but clearly had misgivings about Yang Luo standing before him once more. His face twitched before he replied, “This is my sister, Wang Lu. Three horizontal strokes for Wang, and Lu as in ‘road.’”

Yang Luo looked at the timid girl in the wheelchair, her demeanor fearful and evasive, and asked bluntly, without expression, “How did she end up like this?”

Wang Ruo frowned, visibly displeased.

But when Yang Luo glanced at him, an inexplicable fear—as if being watched by a giant carnivore—rose from the depths of Wang Ruo’s heart, making him shudder and answer involuntarily, “A few years ago, my parents took my sister to pick me up from university. There was a car accident on the way… My parents died. My sister suffered severe brain trauma and hemiplegia. She needs weekly treatment at an institution and can only return home on weekends.”

At this, Wang Ruo exhaled deeply and met Yang Luo’s gaze. “Luo, I know you resent me. If you want to fight, I’m ready anytime, but please let me send Lu home first. I don’t want her to witness that.”

Yang Luo’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t respond directly. Instead, he said coldly, “You have a sister… When you were negotiating with me in the conference room, did you ever think I might have family too?”

Wang Ruo lowered his head, silent.

Yang Luo’s gaze lingered on his face, indifferent. “Because you cherish your family, you can betray your conscience and alter my attendance records? Because you have a hospitalized sister and need money, you’ll squeeze compensation for employees, hoping to pay less—even if a colleague is terminally ill?”

Wang Ruo’s face flushed, and he looked up, showing an anger Yang Luo had never seen before. “What the hell was I supposed to do?!

“Shengyi is just like that—no, not just Shengyi, every game company, internet company, they’re all the same! If you want to work there, climb up, KPI is always the top priority!

“You got cancer, it’s tragic, yes, tragic! But I have my own KPIs, I have to earn money! In any job, who isn’t competing with others? It’s a battlefield—who cares if someone lives or dies!

“I’ll be honest with you, this isn’t the first or second time the company’s done this—squeezing compensation, forcing resignations! Not just altering attendance records, but all sorts of nasty things. And it’s not just small managers like me. Higher-ups, even the chairman, they all know! If the top brass didn’t condone or even encourage this, could I do it? Everyone at my level has dealt with similar things!

“Let me be frank—if you don’t play by these rules, follow the company’s values, you can’t survive there! It’s a pit, every company is a pit!”

He spoke excitedly, spittle flying. The girl in the wheelchair timidly tugged his sleeve. “Brother…”

Hearing Wang Lu’s voice, Wang Ruo, spent, exhaled in defeat, squeezed his sister’s hand, and gestured to Yang Luo. “I’ve said my piece, Luo. Is there anything else you want to say? As I said—if you want to fight, I’m ready. I truly owe you, so slap me, punch me, I’ll take it, just don’t do it in front of my sister…”

Yang Luo fell silent.

Should he continue to hate this man before him?

A surge of complex emotion flooded his chest.

Under the dim streetlights, Wang Ruo and Wang Lu’s expressions appeared strikingly vivid in his eyes.

—Agitation, anger, hatred, self-loathing, cynicism…

—Confusion, hesitation, fear, on the verge of tears…

Their figures were etched into his retina, as if branded.

“Hey, Luo…”

“Brother… I’m scared…”

Their voices poured into Yang Luo’s ears, and a wave of irritation surged within him.

He closed his eyes.

—The one who truly deserved retribution wasn’t Wang Ruo…

—That company, Shengyi, was the real pit…

—He and Wang Ruo were merely insects in the modern internet enterprise…

Yes, that’s how it was.

There was no need to hate.

Moreover, in a way, his supernatural power was thanks to Wang Ruo. Had he not fallen into despair, he wouldn’t have attempted suicide by Qingyuan River, wouldn’t have met the Black Moon Envoy, and wouldn’t have inherited the “Mystic Elixir.”

So…

“Phew…”

Yang Luo exhaled.

He opened his eyes.

“Wang Ruo, go.”

“…We won’t meet again.”

Wang Ruo stiffened.

He watched Yang Luo, as if wanting to say more, his lips moved silently.

But in the end, not a word was spoken. He nodded deeply to Yang Luo, and pushed his sister’s wheelchair away, heading into the distance.

Yang Luo watched the pair—man and wheelchair—gradually recede.

Irritated.

Restless.

…He ought to be a good person.

That’s how it should be.

Though Wang Ruo had hurt him, he had his reasons.

So… he should forgive him.

And he had a disabled sister.

He had no choice.

So he thought.

Yet the feeling of restlessness only grew.

His chest felt blocked, suffocated.

Why…

…must he be a good person?

The words of the “Lord of the Mystic Temple” replayed in his mind:

“…No taboos…”

“…The old days are returning, the gods will come again…”

Suddenly, the restlessness evaporated.

Yang Luo took a deep breath.

He gazed at the moon.

Suddenly remembered—the night he left the company, the moon had been just like this: cold and chilling.

—And so, his body moved of its own accord.

The surrounding surveillance cameras—their angles, the moment he saw them, his mind simulated the range of overlapping coverage.

At speeds exceeding 150 meters per second, his body moved swiftly along the blind spots, and in an instant, he was behind the siblings.

Before they could react, a fist-driven gust tore forward.

“…Boom!”

…

“Recently, a murder occurred in our city at the intersection of Zhongfan Road and Yixian Road. There were two victims: a twenty-eight-year-old man and a fifteen-year-old girl. The incident happened between eleven at night and one in the morning… There was no loss of property, suspected homicide… Police are urgently investigating and call on the public for more information.”

A few days later, Yang Luo sat expressionless in his rented room, watching the weekly news broadcast on TV, shoveling chocolate into his mouth.

When the news ended, he lowered his gaze to the glass table, where lay today’s freshly bought newspaper.

“Sudden homicide in Qinghu District, suspected home invasion and murder!”

“According to our report: At one in the morning yesterday, police received a report from a residential complex’s security guard and corridor manager in Qinghu District. They found the door to a young resident’s apartment open, and upon entering, discovered the resident’s corpse… Police quickly arrived to investigate, finding the scene in disarray, with all cash, credit cards, and bank cards missing. Initial assessment: home invasion escalated to murder… The victim was an HR at a well-known ga