Chapter Fifty-Five: A Death Most Unjust

“Barbecue?” Zhang Xiaorou glanced around, taking in the bloody mess, the floor slick with gore, and the fat man whose arm had been torn off, flesh in tatters. Her throat tickled, and she nearly retched on the spot.

Taking a deep breath, she turned back and said, “Not far from the end of Changqing East Road, there’s a barbecue restaurant at the corner called Zhi Xiang Pavilion. The food is quite good, the selection of meats is complete… If you’re treating, Xiao Nan, then I’ll have to eat a bit more.”

She clearly had no appetite, but she forced herself for my sake…

Xiao Nan didn’t know what to say. He only reached out to ruffle the girl’s hair, watching as she leaned into his hand, her eyes narrowed in feline enjoyment. He couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“My book, too.”

As the two of them prepared to leave, they remembered they had left things in the shop and hurried back inside. Xiao Nan grabbed his black backpack, strapped “Moonlight” onto it, and slung it across his shoulder.

The sound of approaching sirens grew louder—ambulances wailed, police cars blared. In the distance, several men and women with cameras and long lenses were filming the aftermath.

He didn’t want to cross paths with any of them and beckoned Zhang Xiaorou to hurry, but realized she wasn’t following. Turning around, he saw her standing there, compassion in her eyes, the rims reddening.

“What are you looking at?”

Following her gaze, Xiao Nan saw, by the overturned counter in the bookshop, a chubby little boy of six or seven, sprawled over the crumpled body of a middle-aged man. The boy’s hands gently cradled a blood-soaked lock of black hair falling from an exposed shoulder.

Sobbing, he wailed, “Daddy, don’t die.”

Xiao Nan sighed, not stepping forward to comfort the little boy. In his heart, he wondered: If that child hadn’t been play-fighting in the store, hadn’t knocked off the beastman’s cap and exposed him, could today’s tragedy have been avoided?

But there are no “ifs” in life.

He looked up through the shattered window. Bodies lay strewn across the floor—eight or nine in all, including two police officers, every one of them dead in a wretched, pitiful state.

These people died needlessly… Of course, it wasn’t entirely the boy’s fault. Who, after all, was truly to blame?

…

The fight hadn’t lasted long. From the moment the beastman was exposed and began his killing spree, to Xiao Nan drawing his sword and finally thrusting it through the beastman’s heart, barely three minutes had passed.

And that was only because the beastman had been distracted—otherwise, the carnage would have been tenfold.

The lives of ordinary people are as fragile as weeds; a single swing of the blade fells them in droves. In this age, weakness is the original sin.

Xiao Nan clenched his teeth, a certain resolve settling in his heart.

Beneath the veneer of peace, the world had changed. In his previous life, he’d endured blood and carnage, thought himself long inured to such horrors, but to see such a tragedy unfold in the bustle of the city still left him shaken.

In this, perhaps, he was less prepared than the likes of Zhang Xiaorou, who, after decades of official propaganda, could accept such things more readily.

The shrill wail of police sirens grew closer. Xiao Nan’s heart leapt. “Let’s go, quickly. If they catch us and start questioning, we’ll be here all night.”

From a distance, it was clear these were ordinary police officers, not the armed police he’d encountered at the Zhongyuan Street villa…

Even so, Xiao Nan wanted nothing to do with them. His impression of the Yuanjiang authorities after the last Blood Sacrifice incident was less than favorable.

Back then, he and Zhang Xiaorou had obviously been used as bait by the ambushing armed police—the implications still sent a chill down his spine.

And Gu Junwu from the Special Affairs Division, who’d investigated at the hospital, had been anything but straightforward.

Getting involved with them again would only bring more trouble.

Worse, there was the matter he wanted no one to know about: the golden light-pattern he’d intercepted was nearly absorbed now, and he hadn’t forgotten it for a second.

As he passed the chubby boy, Xiao Nan’s gaze flickered. He bent down, picked up a picture book, and carried it away.

He remembered clearly—the beastman had crouched on the floor, utterly absorbed in that very book.

Avoiding the crowd’s notice, the two slipped north along the street. The chaotic throng paid them no mind.

Xiao Nan leafed through the picture book and felt a faint relief.

Its illustrations were all hand-drawn, vivid and lifelike.

It was a comic book called “Bear King’s Dominion,” telling stories of animals battling for supremacy in the forest—tales for children, really, understandable even for those who couldn’t read.

The author was probably a martial artist or enthusiast; the moves depicted were exquisite, each stance and technique skillfully rendered, with a keen understanding of mechanics and the theory of attack and defense.

It was, in fact, an introductory book meant to inspire children toward the martial path.

“Much like ‘Kung Fu Panda’ in my last life—just more professionally drawn.”

Strange, really. In thirty years of fighting the beastmen, countless had died; many more had fallen prey to wild beasts outside the cities… yet children’s books still used wild animals as protagonists. There was a certain absurdity to it.

A hard-to-understand phenomenon.

But Xiao Nan thought of how, in his past life, news of beasts attacking people was common, and yet enlightened souls still called for animal protection, lavishing affection on animals.

By comparison, a children’s picture book about beasts was hardly worth mentioning.

“Did the beastman like the book because the protagonist resembled him, or was he trying to learn its combat techniques? How did they infiltrate the city, blending into the crowd undetected?”

These questions still puzzled Xiao Nan. As a mere student, he lacked information, so it was natural to be at a loss.

He let it go, slipped the book into his backpack, and thought of giving it to Xiao Bei when he got home—she might like it.

That little girl, for all her airs, was still just a child.

“Oh no, we didn’t pay for the books,” Zhang Xiaorou suddenly stopped.

You’re still thinking about paying?

Xiao Nan was equal parts amused and exasperated. After the chaos, half the bookshelves in the store were destroyed, hundreds of books torn, and more than a few people had died. The owner would be lucky to avoid bankruptcy.

That wasn’t the point—he’d slain a beastman! A few books were hardly compensation.

Still, there was no arguing with her sense of right and wrong; Xiaorou’s moral compass was unwavering.

“The shopkeeper’s got bigger things to worry about right now. Next time we pass by, we’ll pay.”

“You’re right.” Zhang Xiaorou nodded, glancing back with lingering fear. “Dad always said beastmen were vicious, but this is my first encounter. It was terrifying.”

She patted her chest and let out a long breath.

And only now does the fear set in?

Xiao Nan’s gaze dropped briefly to her trembling chest, thinking: Xiaorou seems healthy enough. How had he missed that during the last Blood Sacrifice?