The man glanced at them indifferently, then slid his finger across the screen, revealing a mirror-like object in front of him that reflected his face.
"good."
He looked at himself in the mirror and said softly.
Bending down, the man scooped up a handful of soil from the ground, walked gently to the grave, and sprinkled the crimson soil onto the tombstone.
"Luo Qiushui, you've lost."
He said softly.
You beat everyone else, but lost to time. If only you could have lived a few more days and seen more of the world.
The man sighed.
He's still not satisfied...
With a gentle blink of his left eye on the ground, the reconnaissance equipment in his left eye illuminated the person inside the underground crystal coffin.
"He's really dead..."
Seeing Luo Qiushui's bloodless face in the coffin, the man breathed a sigh of relief, but his eyes held a strange sadness.
They hadn't seen each other for many years, and she was still the same as he remembered, except that her hair was a little whiter and her skin was wrinkled. In fact, she was still the same little girl from back then.
The man's gaze lingered on Luo Qiushui's kind body, his eyes filled with nostalgia. Just as he was about to look away, his gaze suddenly fixed on one spot.
There was a barely noticeable hole in the old woman's body inside the coffin, on her chest, no bigger than a pinhead. An ordinary person would not even notice it unless they looked closely.
Those were micro-wounds, caused by a new type of machine gun; one shot was enough to kill.
His gaze deepened, his brows furrowed, and familiar figures flashed through his mind, only to be denied by him in the end.
She ruled out many people in her mind, and finally only one persistent figure remained, but she was the least likely person to kill her.
The man gasped, a chill creeping into his heart as he looked at the cemetery.
Could she be the one to commit such a heinous act?
The man asked himself.
He looked up and saw the bright, blazing sun about to set behind the cliff, a fiery red cloud about to disappear, dawn approaching, and the world about to plunge back into darkness.
After tomorrow, the world will fall into darkness again; this is the last ray of light in Luo Yi's existence.
...
[Shen Shiyang]
As a child born in a slum, no one knows better than him what life is like at the bottom of society.
Born into a hospital, he was found to possess witchcraft powers. A nurse who disliked him secretly threw him into a garbage incinerator, but luckily his brother found him in time and rescued him from the fire.
Three years later, the underground black witch leader, Fan Chen, secretly took control of Hughes and changed the rules of Hughes. As the child of the black witch, he seemed to be able to step into the light.
However, during the mortal test, the magical power that almost killed him at birth inexplicably disappeared!
He stood outside the door of hope, then fell from a thousand steps into the abyss.
He was the unluckiest person.
Standing with his peers, he was met with both suspicion and ridicule from his classmates, forcing him to drop out of school and work, leading a difficult life.
Does he really have no magical powers?
Shen Shiyang asked himself.
He has.
From the time he could remember, he found himself to be very sensitive when danger was imminent. Sometimes, even when nothing was happening around him, he would feel a sudden chill inexplicably.
Before a massive earthquake struck, he suddenly felt numb all over and even collapsed to the ground, unable to move.
A kind passerby called an ambulance, which took him away from the slum.
On the way to be taken away by the ambulance, a once-in-a-decade earthquake suddenly struck! The city behind the ambulance was swallowed by the earth. He struggled to open his eyes and saw such a world turned upside down for the first time.
Many people died in the earthquake in Hughes, and he was the only survivor from the slums.
At that moment, the strange feeling left him, and as he looked at his unusual sensations, he gradually understood what was happening.
That is his magical power.
Later, during a check-up at an underground hospital, doctors diagnosed him with extreme sensitivity. His red blood cells were very prone to contraction, and would react drastically to even the slightest stimulus.
Because of this result, he spent all his savings to buy a pair of contact lenses on the black market that could test the degree of his cell expansion and contraction. He wore them every day and night.
Through those eyes, he could sense the dangers around him.
Several years have passed—
Through repeated practice, he gradually discovered that the degree of cell expansion and contraction, and the numbers in front of him, seemed to indicate how long he could survive.
These times can be days, hours, or even decades.
Through these predictions, he avoided many possible deaths.
He is the child of death.
He firmly believed this.
Because of this special magical power, although his life was difficult, he never felt the fear of his life being threatened.
Every time he saw those numbers, he tried his best to do many things to make the numbers he saw even bigger.
Days, months, years, decades... One day, the number finally reached the largest value he had ever seen before—hundreds of years.
This number was what he saw in the first glance he took at the mortal world.
Seeing this number, he felt no joy, only deep worry. Fan Chen was no good person; he was devoid of emotion.
Having grown up in Hughes, he knew the nature of the mortal world very well. He was a heartless man, and he did not want to have anything to do with the mortal world.
In reality, there was no possibility that he and Fanchen would cross paths, so he gradually calmed down and forgot about it.
After working hard in Hughes for several years, he matured and opened his own motorcycle shop there.
In Hughes, it is extremely difficult for someone without background or money to open a shop. He belongs to the "three-no" category: no money, no power, and no magical abilities. Naturally, it is difficult for his motorcycle shop to survive.
After the motorcycle shop opened, people started coming to cause trouble. Later, some thugs came to him demanding protection money, and threatened to smash things and damage motorcycles if he didn't pay.
He invested all his money, but instead of getting any money back, he was in debt. With no other option, he could only raise his fist and fight back; it was his only way out.
Every time he opened a fight with those thugs, he could see the numbers on their clothes.
At this point, the numbers he could see above other people's heads had basically stopped changing, and his lifespan had stabilized in a fixed range.
So if he saw that the numbers above the thugs' heads didn't change significantly, he would fight back desperately, even if it meant getting bloodied, as long as he could intimidate those thugs.
His reckless tactics worked. The thugs started causing trouble less and less, and his motorcycle shop was occasionally making a decent living.
Life is finally back on track.
With his basic survival needs met, some entertainment-related things entered his world.
There is a group of people in society who don't need to work hard every day. They can live a good life simply by connecting to a bracelet all day and occasionally selling things online.
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