They burned four evil corpses that morning, without finding any black beads.

The atmosphere was heavier than usual, neither of them speaking much, both seemingly preoccupied.

Wang Jian’s lips moved several times as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed his words, going to the entrance to smoke and silently fiddling with his phone.

Ivy’s gaze darkened as she glanced at Wang Jian’s back, thinking There’s no chance to ask him.

Who did Wang Jian betray? Me?

My resonant punch—was that a mistake? And my physical training sessions these past two days… did he find it strange?

La Tap, Tao Fei, Sun Yi’e, and Wang Jian. The only thing we have in common is that we all dropped out of school. I can’t figure out the basis for the Qinglang Gang’s suspicions.

But I’m definitely on their radar.

Ivy looked at the burning corpses and sneered, whispering, “If only living people could rip open their chests like these corpses, revealing the secrets within their hearts.”

Focusing on the corpses, Ivy calmed herself and began her physical training.

The afternoon was unusually quiet. There were no evil corpses, and no bodies arrived. Ivy trained alone, while Wang Jian and his father went to the contaminated materials area.

After work.

Passing by the school.

The situation was the same as the previous two days. Ivy paused briefly, noticing a man with dyed blond hair and a cigarette in his mouth. He was comparing a paper to her face and walking quickly towards her.

“Wang Jian wasn’t lying. My name is on the list.”

Before the man could approach, Ivy quickly mounted her bike and turned down a nearby alley.

The blond man, though furious, didn’t chase her, probably deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to pursue her today.

Ivy emerged from the alley and didn’t go straight home. Instead, she cycled for twenty minutes to 978 Street.

It was called 978 Street because it had once housed the headquarters of the 978 Investigation Corps.

After the corps relocated, the area was abandoned for a while before being occupied by scavengers.

More people arrived, building makeshift homes. Small businesses sprung up, attracting more people. Over the years, the street transformed.

Low-rise tin buildings, ramshackle huts, makeshift shops, and numerous massage parlors lined the alleyways.

Like in a gangster film, each gang staked out its territory. This wasn’t legally recognized, undocumented real estate, but a territory carved out through knives and fists, forcing businesses to pay rent, known as protection fees.

What did protection fees mean?

It meant paying for protection from the gang's violence.

978 Street was the Qinglang Gang's territory.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Ivy rode in, at a moderate pace, casually observing her surroundings.

Restaurants, street vendors, massage parlors, cinemas, bars, dance halls… everything was haphazardly arranged, reflecting a lack of planning.

The Qinglang Gang’s headquarters was a bar, occupying the best spot on the street. Colorful neon signs adorned the walls. The aesthetics and name were cliché, but eye-catching—The Bloody Rosary.

Ivy didn’t dare to approach, taking only a quick glance from a distance before leaving.

Her sense of direction was excellent; instead of taking the same route back, she weaved through the maze-like shantytown, finding a gap to escape.

She returned home, ate, and trained.

2 AM.

She finished two hours earlier than usual, the summary appearing on her retina.

[Iron Eater: Rank 1]

[Consumable Iron Types: 1]

[Absorbable Metal Properties: 1]

[Currently detected iron type—Common cast iron, absorption rate 38.2%.]

[Absorbed properties: ? ?]

“An increase of 4.1%. Not enough to fully cover my left arm… no, not my left arm, but…”

Ivy gasped. She hadn’t felt any new coldness in her left arm because the chill had silently traveled down her spine to her right thigh.

She touched her thigh, a faint coldness penetrating her skin. A shiver ran down her leg.

Ivy took a few steps in her room, clearly feeling the increased weight of her right leg, the left feeling light. Her center of gravity shifted involuntarily to the right, giving her a limp.

After a moment of adjustment, Ivy regained her balance.

Changing into a black top and black pants, putting on a mask and cap, and hiding a folded knife in her pocket, Ivy slowly opened her bedroom door, quietly closing it behind her.

The hallway was pitch-black. Ivy descended the stairs, her gait uneven and strange.

The night was quiet. The old apartment building was dimly lit, and Higher City’s backside was a complete darkness. Ivy, dressed in black, blended seamlessly into the night.

She didn’t ride her bike; the sound of the wheels would be too loud. It was better to move silently in the shadows.

There were few people on the street. The occasional figure in the distance was easily avoided.

At 3:14 AM, Ivy stood behind a trash can at the entrance of 978 Street.

The street was dimly lit, with occasional bright neon signs illuminating the night, red, blue, and green, exuding a seductive allure.

Hidden in the shadows, Ivy coldly observed a woman being dragged into a massage parlor by a large man. The man’s head was buried in her chest, her eyes fixated on his wallet, both of them exhibiting greed.

The massage parlor seemed to come alive at night, transforming into a den of lust, swallowing the man and woman.

The curtains inside were drawn, but two men emerged, sitting at the entrance smoking and exchanging lewd laughter.

They watched the curtains. Ivy watched them.

4:41 AM.

The neon signs were off. The ground was littered with cigarette butts. Two figures stood side-by-side in the shadows, a third shadow lurking faintly behind them.

...

My name is Ma Wei. I’m 24 years old.

I don’t remember much from my early childhood. I only recall that when I was seven, my mother abandoned me and my father to run off with another man.

My father was a street sweeper. He wasn’t skilled but had a terrible temper. He’d beat me when he was drunk, then cry and hug me when he sobered up.

I didn’t resent him because he fed me. I only hated my mother. I wanted to find her when I grew up and cut off her head.

When I was ten, my father died.

The police said he’d gotten into a fight with two drunk thugs while sweeping the streets and was beaten to death.

It wasn’t a difficult time, but I felt his death was unfair, and I also didn’t have anyone to feed me anymore.

Void citizens can’t afford burial plots, and I didn’t have the money to claim his body. I assume his body was burned with the trash.

At eleven, I dropped out of school and became a scavenger.

It’s difficult for one person to find valuable trash. Organized scavengers would claim the best spots. Even stray dogs would snarl at me.

I was alone and couldn't compete with others.

At twelve, I met Zhang Tong. He was two years older than me, and we scavenged together.

At thirteen, two people were stronger than one. We used bricks to kill a stray dog and ate its meat. It was delicious.

But we still couldn’t compete with the organized scavengers. Most of the time, we barely had enough to eat. Once, a well-dressed child gave me a bag of buns.

Zhang Tong and I split them, but we were even hungrier afterward.

The next day, we stopped that child and took his backpack. We ate our fill that day.

We robbed several more times after that, but the child disappeared, and Zhang Tong and I were furious.

At fourteen, Zhang Tong recruited two more children.

We weren’t as strong as the organized scavengers, but we were vicious. We seized a trash dumpster, and we could finally eat our fill.

At fifteen, Zhang Tong said he didn’t want to scavenge for the rest of his life…