"If you're back, you're back. What are you shouting for?"
His grandmother's grumbling voice drifted out from the kitchen.
"If you're back, you're back. What are you shouting for?"
His aunt, who was helping out in the kitchen, parroted the words right after.
From the kitchen came the rhythmic *thud-thud* of a knife chopping ingredients alongside a rich, mouthwatering aroma. Zhang Yuanqing could tell she was making beer duck—stewed in a pressure cooker, his childhood favorite.
According to his uncle, ever since the terrorist attacks broke out in Songhai, his grandmother had been frantically trying to contact him. When she found his number out of service and received no replies to her messages, she had wept uncontrollably from fear.
No matter how his uncle and aunt tried to comfort her, nothing worked. In the end, it was his cousin, who worked at the Public Security Bureau, who managed to soothe her.
His cousin had told her: *They haven't found Yuanzi's body...*
As soon as Zhang Yuanqing returned to the country, he immediately contacted his grandmother, explaining that he had changed his number. He claimed that when the terrorist attacks began, he had followed Guan Ya, a wealthy woman with high-level connections, into a government-prepared safehouse. For secrecy, cell signals had been jammed, and no one was allowed to leave until order was restored in the outside world.
Grandmother knew Guan Ya was no ordinary person and that her family allegedly had high-ranking officials in the government, so she bought her grandson's fabricated story.
When Zhang Yuanqing told her he was coming home for dinner today, she had voiced disgust over the phone, yet quietly prepared all his favorite dishes.
In the living room, his grandfather was watching the news. The national television station was interviewing a white-haired expert with a youthful, baby-smooth complexion. The expert was supposedly over a hundred years old, yet possessed the delicate skin of an infant.
He claimed to be a leading figure in biology and medicine who had spent decades quietly conducting research at the National Academy of Sciences. Only because of the recent terrorist attacks had he been forced into the public eye, purely to educate the populace with scientific facts.
"In truth, it isn't as fantastical as the rumors online claim—superhumans, extraterrestrial life, the resurgence of spiritual energy... It's all sheer nonsense." The expert spoke with a thick Ouyu accent. "Through our panel's research, we detected a brand-new virus within the bodies of those terrorists. This virus causes mutations in human bodies and animals alike.
"Certain individuals possess immune systems capable of withstanding the virus, thereby acquiring baffling physical strength, while others lack immunity, which leads to mental breakdown and frenzied attacks on those around them."
*Is this a demigod from the Zhu family?* Zhang Yuanqing slipped off his shoes in the entryway, changed into slippers, and walked into the living room.
After hearing this, the television host played along and asked, "May I ask what kind of virus this is?"
The youthful-looking, white-haired expert shook his head. "As I said, it is a novel virus. The only certainty is that it is artificially cultivated. As for where it originated, investigations are still underway."
The host nodded repeatedly and finally looked into the camera. "Rumors stop with the wise. We urge everyone to view this matter rationally, and we offer our deepest condolences to the compatriots who lost their lives..."
Zhang Yuanqing sat down beside his grandfather and noticed the old man's expression was exceptionally grave, etched with deep worry. He had not relaxed in the slightest despite the expert's scientific explanation.
Stirred, Zhang Yuanqing deliberately said, "Grandpa, don't worry. It's just a virus. Once they develop a vaccine, everything will be fine."
His grandfather gave a cold snort. "What the hell do you know?!"
He turned his head to scrutinize his grandson. "You're not hurt, are you?"
Zhang Yuanqing stretched his limbs. "What could happen to me? The moment those infected people started the terrorist attacks, Guan Ya and I headed straight into the safehouse."
His grandfather nodded in satisfaction, picked up his porcelain mug, and walked over to the balcony to fill it with water. Amid the bubbling sound of warm water pouring into the mug, Zhang Yuanqing distinctly heard the old man mumble under his breath:
"How dare they?"
Hearing this, Zhang Yuanqing was both surprised and unsurprised.
Constables maintained social order and stood on the front lines of every severe crime; it was impossible for them to know nothing about the existence of Spirit Realm walkers. This included his cousin Chen Yuanjun, who had encountered an evil profession during the terrorist attack at Pingtai Hospital back then.
As a retired police inspector from the previous century, Grandfather had surely dealt with Spirit Realm walkers as well. He knew of the existence of superpowered individuals and knew they were restrained by Morality Points, which was why he had such a question.
*The Zhu family demigod's brainwashing doesn't seem very effective on people with strong willpower, or perhaps it takes repeated 'education' to work. For now, the existence of Spirit Realm walkers will be concealed for as long as possible. If it can't be covered up, going public won't matter much anyway,* Zhang Yuanqing thought to himself.
At a critical juncture of survival like this, who still cared whether the existence of Spirit Realm walkers was exposed?
About ten minutes later, the bustling noises from the kitchen ceased. His grandmother and aunt emerged carrying trays, laying out a table laden with delicacies.
Setting out the bowls and chopsticks, his grandmother urged, "You two, hurry up and wash your hands. Time to eat!"
Grandfather and Zhang Yuanqing went into the bathroom together.
At the dining table, Zhang Yuanqing's chopsticks flew like lightning, devouring everything in sight and using his appetite to express just how much he had missed his grandmother's cooking.
Grandmother was very pleased. "Didn't I tell you to bring Guan Ya along? Where is she?"
"Her family brought her back to the Capital City, saying Songhai wasn't safe," Zhang Yuanqing brushed it off casually. "They originally wanted to take me along too, but I couldn't bear to leave Grandma and Grandpa."
His cute aunt, who had a beauty mark near the corner of her eye, shot him a glare.
Zhang Yuanqing leaned his head toward her. "And Auntie, of course."
Before his head could even touch her shoulder, his grandmother's hand intercepted him and shoved him away.
Grandmother said worriedly, "I heard that only the Capital City is safe. A vaccine for this virus hasn't been developed yet, and who knows if it might start spreading again soon. If you could go to the Capital City with Guan Ya, that would be a good thing.
"Do you know? Those infected all have superpowers—they can level entire buildings! There are so many skyscrapers in Songhai; if one collapses, a whole crowd dies. Nobody can escape..."
Her words were thick with frustration over the state of the world.
It hadn't been long since Morality Points vanished. Although his grandparents' residential compound was upscale, it paled in comparison to the truly wealthy neighborhoods of Songhai. The targets of the evil professions were banks, Public Security Bureaus, and ultra-rich districts.
This neighborhood had been fortunate enough to escape untouched.
"Grandma, don't worry. When the sky falls, the tall ones will hold it up," Zhang Yuanqing comforted her.
*Just wait until your grandson becomes the Lord of the Sun and saves the world.*
Grandfather snorted coldly. "The tall ones have all hid themselves in safehouses. Who's left to hold it up?"
*How did a cynical retired inspector like Grandpa end up fathering a slippery Void profession practitioner like Uncle? Did Uncle mutate, or was he not biological and picked up under a bridge?* Zhang Yuanqing complained silently in his heart.
He changed the subject. "Grandma, where's my cousin?"
"He hasn't been home for days. With such a massive catastrophe, every constable in Songhai has to work overtime. Your aunt has been bringing him meals at the Public Security Bureau every day." Grandmother's tone was deeply displeased.
It was hard to tell whether she was upset about her grandson working so hard, or annoyed that his mother had stolen her job of delivering meals.
***
Kangyang District Public Security Bureau.
In the large conference room, Chen Yuanjun and over a dozen civilian staff members were drowning in mountains of documents. Every single person had dull eyes and severe dark circles.
They flipped through files at a sluggish pace, their expressions dazed.
Out in the main office area, a group of technicians was likewise working around the clock to restore data.
During the disaster several days ago, the road surveillance systems and public security network had been sabotaged by the evil professions, and the Kangyang District Public Security Bureau had also suffered an assault.
After paying a painful price, they had finally killed the enemy with the assistance of the Special Operations Group—the official walkers. However, the bureau had sustained tremendous damage.
Among other things, the electronic records had been severely corrupted.
Public security files were the original records documenting constable operations and various cases, serving as the foundational basis for judicial and criminal investigations. They were of paramount importance.
Fortunately, the bureau's underground archive room had remained untouched, allowing them to reorganize and compile new electronic files based on the physical paper records.
Naturally, the technicians from the Special Operations Group were also doing their utmost to restore the electronic archives.
Chen Yuanjun set down a paper file and tiredly pinched the space between his brows. He couldn't hold out much longer and planned to take a break.
Beyond restoring archives, he had spent the daytime visiting the families of victims in Kangyang District, assisting with body identifications, and maintaining public order. He was thoroughly exhausted in both body and mind.
Just then, a technician pushed open the door and called out, "Can someone help locate a file? Case number w924589."
The civilian staff skillfully searched according to the number. A few minutes later, a female clerk said in surprise, "It's not here? There's no file with that number."
"Not there?" The technician was even more astonished. "How is that possible? If there's no paper record, what happened to the electronic file we just recovered?"
Chen Yuanjun, who had been about to head back to his office for a rest, paused in his tracks upon hearing this and frowned. "What's wrong with that file?"
The technician answered, "Here's the situation, Team Leader Chen. We recovered a file, but it's incomplete. We wanted to check against the physical document to fill in the blanks, but to our surprise, there is no paper record."
As an experienced veteran constable, Chen Yuanjun immediately sensed that something was amiss. Such situations were commonly seen when constables covered up for criminals.
Straightening his expression, he rallied his spirits. "Take me to see it."
Files beginning with "w9" corresponded to the year 2019—three years ago, not that far in the past.
Leaving the conference room, Chen Yuanjun followed the technician to the office area and sat down in front of a computer.
The technician pointed at the screen. "This is it."
Chen Yuanjun focused his gaze. It was a missing persons report form.
The document was fragmented, displaying only the information at the very top:
*Name: Lei Yibing. Gender: Male. Age: 21.*
The fields below—place of origin, physical features, last known location, time of disappearance, and so forth—were all scrambled, corrupted characters.
Staring at this damaged file, Chen Yuanjun felt his blood slowly freeze, an indescribable chill surging into his heart.
*Lei Yibing... went missing three years ago?!*
Chapter 816