Perhaps out of guilt, whenever someone actively brings up the topic of Ma Zao, I can’t help but feel like they’re probing me for information.

Lu Chan’s gaze was fixed on my face. This focused expression could be interpreted as either politeness and respect, or as scrutiny.

Why is he asking me this? Did this keen agent notice something from my behavior? I couldn’t suppress my wild speculations.

“What kind of opinion are you asking for?” I deflected the question back to him.

“Since you’ve fought Kong Da, you should know well that Oddities have the ability to teleport through shadows as a medium,” he said. “Coincidentally, this girl named Ma Zao, suffering from Lost Soul Syndrome, likely disappeared from the hospital through some form of spatial transfer. And now, during our investigation of monster incidents, she has once again appeared in our line of sight...”

“You suspect that she’s a Oddities?”

“I can’t rule out that possibility.”

After a moment of thought, I gave my answer: “I think the likelihood of that is very low.”

“Why do you think so?” he asked, clearly intrigued.

“I’ve fought Oddities in actual combat. I’m well aware of their destructive power. They can hurl street lamps like javelins and manipulate shadows to strike enemies from a distance. To someone like that, even guns and bullets are nothing more than toys,” I explained. “But this Lost Soul Syndrome girl infiltrated a public security department specifically to steal firearms and ammunition. Would a true Oddities go to such lengths?”

“Fair point,” he admitted. “However, she must have an undeniable connection to the Oddities incidents, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes.” I couldn’t deny it.

“If you happen to encounter Ma Zao on the front lines or uncover any clues about her, I hope you’ll share them with me,” he said politely, making a formal request. “To be frank, I’ve been tasked with finding this Lost Soul Syndrome girl. If you help me, I promise to repay this favor in full in the future.”

It seems that when it comes to finding Ma Zao, Lu Chan isn’t the decision-maker of his faction but merely an executor of orders.

I didn’t respond immediately. Instead, I glanced at Zhu Shi. She, expressionless, simply said, “Alright.”

What an insincere agreement—Zhu Shi probably never intended to help with this request. But since I felt the same way, I simply replied, “Same here.”

“Well, let’s get back to the case at hand,” Lu Chan said, sensing the awkward atmosphere and steering the conversation back on track. “I’ll need to use divination later to track the culprit. To improve the accuracy of my divination, I’ll need to reference your thoughts on the case. Could you share your insights with me?”

Perhaps worried I wouldn’t understand, Zhu Shi added from the side:

“Lu Chan’s divination magic essentially works by predicting and deducing from his own perspective. But relying solely on his perspective can lead to bias or oversights. That’s why he needs other people’s perspectives to supplement his divination.”

“Additionally, I have a question right now,” she said, turning to Lu Chan again. “From my memory, while the culprit targets local elites, they never involve unrelated people or the families of their targets. Why did they suddenly change their behavior this time?”

She pointed to the photo of the middle-aged man and his wife and son who had all been murdered. The family of three had died with their eyes wide open in terror.

This was the first time I’d heard about such a thing. Looking at it now, this crime scene did seem unusual.

“It seems like it was an accident,” Lu Chan shared his findings. “The mother and child had originally planned to travel out of town that day. However, the mother developed a fever, and their travel plans were canceled at the last minute.”

“So the culprit mistakenly thought the target was home alone and broke in…” I considered. “If this reasoning holds, then the culprit must have known about their travel plans—a close friend or relative, perhaps?”

“Not necessarily,” Lu Chan shook his head. “The mother had a habit of posting her schedule online. Even someone with a distant connection could uncover this information with enough effort.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“If the culprit went to such lengths to investigate and avoid involving the mother and child, then it’s clear they didn’t want to harm them in the first place. So why did they end up killing them anyway?” Zhu Shi questioned. “It can’t possibly be because they saw the culprit’s face, right? Once a Oddities transforms, they’re basically wearing a mask. Their original physical traits are completely obscured—there’s no need for a cover-up murder.”

Lu Chan stared thoughtfully at the photos.

“Has the culprit’s motive been clarified yet?” I changed my line of questioning.

“That part is actually quite clear,” Lu Chan patiently explained. “Mount Luo has previously attempted to capture Oddities. However, it seems that Oddities have a self-destruction mechanism. Whenever we’ve managed to capture one, they would self-destruct. And this process seems beyond their own control...”

“However, through studying the remains left behind, we’ve managed to understand the Oddities motive. They can devour the souls of their victims and permanently convert them into their own power. This is what we call the ‘Soul-Devouring Kill’ ability.

“The more souls they consume, or the higher quality the souls, the stronger they become. If they devour the soul of a Demon Hunter, the boost to their power is even more significant.”

Soul-Devouring Kill? Did Agent Kong attempt to ambush me in the past because he wanted to devour my soul?

I thought for a moment, then asked, “If that’s the case, why does the Oddities we’re tracking now specifically target the wealthy elites of Xianshui City? Wouldn’t targeting ordinary citizens involve less risk?”

“That’s also something we’re investigating,” Lu Chan replied. “At one point, I even wondered if this Oddities might be some kind of ‘vigilante anti-corruption hero’, but among the elites he’s killed, there were also upright and honest officials—including the man whose wife and son were also killed.”

He pointed helplessly at the photo of the family tragedy.

“Before leaving the scene, the culprit also took the remaining valuables and cash from the house. Similar thefts were recorded in previous cases as well. Perhaps greed for wealth is one of the motives behind these killings.”

“Killing an entire family just for money… Such an evil individual—” Zhu Shi’s voice trembled with rage before she forcibly calmed herself down. Then she suddenly turned to me and asked:

“Zhuang Cheng, what do you think?”

Why are you asking for my opinion too?

But I understood why she suddenly posed this question.

Zhu Shi is someone with strong moral principles, and she cares deeply about the moral stances of those around her. Perhaps it was because I once admitted to her that I believed superhumans were inherently superior to ordinary people. Now, she seems to place special weight on how I perceive wrongdoers.

However, my answer might disappoint her.

I am, after all, someone willing to commit wrongdoing for selfish desires. I nearly imprisoned an underage girl—and the reason I say “nearly” isn’t because I had a change of heart and stopped myself, but because she escaped on her own.

So, it’s hard for me to claim that I’m fundamentally different from villains.

Of course, if you ask me whether I detest sexual predators, the answer is yes. I also look down on petty thieves, and I cannot accept criminals who rob and kill for money. But my disdain for these people isn’t because they’re evil, but because their motives are often vulgar and weak.

On this point, I don’t think I’m alone. Many people have been fascinated by villainous characters in fiction—those with unshakable resolve, a unique sense of aesthetics, or brilliant ideals. Some might criticize, saying, “Only immature minds would be drawn to such fictional villains.” I won’t deny it, because I do have an immature side.

So, if someone commits evil acts out of a pursuit of their ideals, I find it easier to accept.

I’m well aware, though, that from an outsider's perspective, whether the motive is an idealistic pursuit or greed and lust, the essence is the same: selfish desire. The outcomes remain evil deeds. From an objective standpoint, I might not be so different from that monstrous criminal. The only difference is that he succeeded, while I failed.

The reason I like to present myself as a good person—occasionally stepping in to help others—is not because I have an overflowing conscience, but because I want to make friends with good people.

And no, this isn’t because I think good people are easier to exploit. I must admit, being friends with good people is simply more comforting than being friends with villains.

As I pondered the similarities and differences between myself and that Oddities, an odd thought crept into my mind.

I suddenly felt an urge to meet that Oddities face-to-face. I wanted to ask him about his mindset while committing these acts of evil, to understand how he thinks.

"Zhuang Cheng?" Zhu Shi called out to me again.

"Let’s hurry and take down that Oddities before the next victim appears," I said.

"Ah? Mm!" She nodded firmly.

After that, Zhu Shi and I continued discussing with Lu Chan for a while longer. It seemed that he had gathered enough perspectives from us, as he eventually signaled for us to stop and began his divination ritual.

To call it a "divination ritual" was somewhat misleading. He didn’t pull out a compass or any other traditional tools. Instead, he raised both hands and began moving his fingers rapidly, as if performing mental calculations. It seemed like some kind of palm divination.

The lines and joints on human palms have long been believed to contain traces of fate. Ancient texts often described this as "calculating with one’s fingers."

After a few minutes, he stopped, nodded slightly, and said, "I’ve got it. I’ll now transfer the results directly into your consciousness."

Transfer the results into our consciousness?

Before I could process what that meant, Lu Chan extended his hands, seemingly offering a handshake. Zhu Shi confidently reached out and shook his hand. I followed suit, mimicking her actions and shook his hand as well.

In my mind, I imagined some kind of direct mental transmission of information. I was genuinely curious about how this would feel.

But the moment we made contact, nothing happened.

Instead, Lu Chan let out a startled yelp, as if he had just touched an open flame. He jerked his hand away violently, stumbling backward and even falling off his chair.

His entire body was trembling uncontrollably, and his face was filled with abject terror as he stared at me—as though he had just witnessed something unspeakably horrifying.