Case 1.3 of the Puppet Master
Fan Jinci's cold laugh was exceptionally clear in the silent room, like shattering ice, carrying undisguised contempt.
The elegant yet dangerous smile on M-10's (the collector's) face froze instantly. He had clearly envisioned countless reactions from Fanjinz—warning, analysis, even offensive anger—but none of them included this blatant, almost brutal contempt.
The next second,
"Smack—!"
A resounding slap landed squarely on M-10's face. The force was so great that his head snapped to one side, and clear red finger marks quickly appeared on his pale cheek.
Fan Jinci shook his slightly numb wrist, his eyes looking at a pile of disgusting garbage, his voice even colder than before, each word dripping with icy sharpness:
Do you even deserve to insult him?
M-10 was completely stunned, maintaining the tilted-head posture for several seconds without moving. In those unfathomable black eyes, a trace of disbelief flashed first, followed not by anger, but by a kind of... twisted confusion, as if betrayed by faith.
He slowly turned his head, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and a trace of blood stained his fingertip. He stared at the red spot as if he had seen something unbelievable, then looked up at Fan Jinci, his tone filled with a genuine, almost naive question:
"Why?"
He didn't understand.
“He’s rude, irritable, and emotional, like an untamed wild beast, only knowing how to claim territory in the most primitive way.” M-10’s speech quickened, carrying a restless anxiety of a theory being overturned. “His very existence is interfering with your rationality, tainting your perfection! I’m eliminating flaws! Why…why are you defending him?”
In his mind, someone as perfect as M-0 should, like him, be aloof and "appreciative" of all beings, eliminating all disharmonious elements. Emotions, especially the intense and destructive emotions of Yu Yan, are the biggest flaw.
Looking at the twisted piety and confusion in his eyes, Fan Jinci's lips curled into a faint yet sharp smile.
“Perfect?” he repeated the word as if he had heard the most absurd joke. “What Ryan created is a bunch of monsters. Including me, including you.”
He took a step forward, the moonlight fully illuminating his cold profile and his all-seeing gray-blue eyes.
“Yu Yan’s ‘flaw’ proves that I am still a ‘human being’.” His voice was not loud, but it carried the force of a thousand pounds, crashing down on M-10’s twisted beliefs. “And your kind of ‘perfection’ that requires imitation and calculation even for joy, anger, sorrow and happiness is the truly disgusting defective product.”
“Your so-called collection,” Fan Jinci’s gaze swept over the doll left on the table, which looked exactly like himself, and finally settled on M-10’s face, full of pity and disgust, “is nothing but the self-comfort of a pathetic wretch who has trapped himself in Ryan’s shadow forever.”
The confusion and piety on M-10's face shattered like fragile glass, replaced by a ferocious, utterly denial-filled rage. His black, abyssal eyes stared intently at Fan Jinci, as if trying to devour him.
“You’ll understand, M-0.” His voice became hoarse, like a viper’s hiss. “Once I’ve cleaned up all the ‘flaws’ around you, you’ll thank me.”
Before he finished speaking, his figure suddenly retreated, quickly merging into the deeper shadows of the room, disappearing like a ghost, leaving only a faint, cold, obsessive aftertaste in the air.
Fan Jinci stood still, not giving chase. He knew that the appearance of the M-10 was merely a declaration.
The war has begun.
Yu Yan became the primary target of this distorted war.
He raised his hand, looking at the hand that had just slapped M-10, his fingertips slightly curled.
Then, he took out his phone and dialed Yu Yan's number.
"Hello? Brother Fan?" Yu Yan's voice came through immediately, filled with obvious worry.
Fan Jinci looked in the direction where the M-10 had disappeared, his tone calm and even, yet carrying an undeniable resolve:
"Yu Yan, come and get me."
"Also, everyone on high alert. The 'Collector's' next target is you."
On the other end of the phone, when Yu Yan heard Fan Jinci say, "You're the next target," his breath almost caught in his throat. But he forcibly suppressed the surge of violence and worry that welled up inside him, his voice taut and strained:
"Are you alright, Brother Fan?"
He was asking about Fan Jinci's safety, even though he himself had become the target.
He was met with Fan Jinci's cold and agitated voice, like an icicle piercing him:
"Shut up."
That "Shut up" was less a reprimand and more a suppressed anxiety. Yu Yan knew him too well—Fan Jinci never wasted his emotions on pointless words. This unusual rudeness proved that his meeting with M-10 just now was not as calm as he appeared, and that the threat from the "Collector" was real and imminent, a threat that originated from Yu Yan.
Yu Yan could even imagine what Fan Jinci looked like at this moment: he was definitely still standing in the same spot, perhaps with his head slightly turned, staring at the direction where M-10 had disappeared, his jawline taut, and his gray-blue eyes filled not with fear, but with cold anger at having his territory invaded and a kind of... resolute calculation.
He wasn't annoyed with Yu Yan; he was using this method to tell Yu Yan: the situation is bad, stop talking nonsense, do as instructed.
Yu Yan pressed his tongue against his cheek, swallowing back all the turbulent emotions. When he spoke again, his voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable power:
Send me your location. I'll be there in ten minutes.
He paused, then added a sentence that sounded like a command, yet also like a vow:
"Stay there, don't move."
The phone call was abruptly ended.
Fan Jinci put down his phone, his gaze sweeping over the empty shadows once more. His knuckles unconsciously pressed against his palm—the slap he'd just delivered to M-10 still seemed to leave a lingering, unnaturally cold sensation from the other's skin.
He clicked his tongue softly.
trouble.
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