The director didn’t answer Wen Yan. He just held his thermos, slowly sipping tea, watching Wen Yan’s expression. After a long while, he finally spoke.
"Old Wang was the last person who could enter the Old Ice Warehouse.
He thought someone died because of him, felt guilty, and got used by some things.
Now he can only be trapped in the mirror, stuck guarding the entrance to the old office building, never able to return.
If he wants to come back, there’s only one slight possibility—if he’s completely, utterly dead, then maybe his corpse could come back.
I hope your thinking matches your words. We can’t let ourselves feel guilty over someone else doing evil and causing deaths.
I know, it’s human nature, but at the very least, we absolutely can’t let that kind of thought take hold, because dying isn’t the worst consequence.
If, because of guilt, something takes advantage of your weakness, the destruction that follows may be worse than just a few deaths."
The director was sincerely trying to talk sense into him. Wen Yan knew all this was for his own good, so he listened quietly and seriously.
After the director finished, Wen Yan couldn’t help asking,
"What about the client..."
"What client?" The director’s expression darkened with some annoyance. "Don’t talk nonsense. He got up on his own and ran outside by himself. Once he’s out the gates, that’s not called a client anymore. How to define that is the Scorching Sun Department’s domain. Our clients here always pass peacefully through their final journey."
"You’re right, director, I was being careless with my words." Wen Yan immediately agreed—in the end, no wonder he’s the leader.
"When the sun’s up, remember to see off client number 51."
Wen Yan came down from the office building in the front courtyard. Feng Yao was still there, hugging his laptop and cursing into his headset.
For this operation, he’d handpicked field and logistics agents he trusted and was used to working with, but four of them had already been brainwashed before the action. Even if it could be excused as unavoidable, maybe they truly couldn’t resist.
But... Feng Yao still broke down for a moment.
He was still trying to track down the whereabouts of Fake Mo Zhicheng.
But unfortunately, not even counting the Virtue City suburbs, just within Virtue City proper there are over a million permanent residents. At near daybreak, tens of thousands are up and moving around the city.
Plus, with the logistics of the entire city and the daily necessities coming and going, just finding out how many people came in and out at that time is not something you can figure out quickly.
To make things worse, there are also plenty of trucks. Fake Mo Zhicheng could’ve easily hitched a ride and left the city unnoticed, or if he changed identities and prepared well, just hid somewhere in the city, making him even harder to find.
Feng Yao knew this, really, but he just couldn’t let it go. He still had to do what he could.
Wen Yan sat next to Feng Yao, gesturing for him to mute his mic.
"I want to keep that old man, but this can’t be reported to the Scorching Sun Department."
"I’m Scorching Sun, and so are you, technically."
"Are you possessed by a contrarian spirit right now?"
Feng Yao paused, didn’t bother to argue, looking a bit dejected.
"I feel like ordinary field agents are less and less able to cope with these things—especially these past few years, the feeling is way more obvious. I’m starting to feel powerless too.
When I first joined the Scorching Sun Department, I heard that all kinds of bizarre supernatural abilities weren’t actually that strong.
Take hypnosis, for example. If you’re alert or well trained, with strong willpower, hypnosis didn’t work at all.
We used to run into zombies too, but just have a few people empty their clips and the zombie would stay down. I’ve never even heard of a zombie that can tank sniper fire.
Now, more and more, that old saying keeps proving true—only magic can beat magic."
Wen Yan didn’t try to comfort him, only said,
"That’s why I want to keep the old man around—fight magic with magic. I’ll need your help covering for me, make sure today’s funeral goes smoothly. This can’t get out to too many people."
"That’s against the rules..." Feng Yao replied, not very confidently.
This whole incident perfectly showed the two sides of the coin: when everything is strictly by the book, you can keep most risks under control—this is how they always acted before, and the minimum guarantee is always there.
But this time, letting Fake Mo Zhicheng get the mask and escape went exactly as they’d expected—the opponent exploited the rules and predicted all their responses, and that had a direct impact.
Feng Yao had already reviewed the whole thing in his mind, realizing only two things had taken Fake Mo Zhicheng by surprise.
First, Feng Yao had people stop Mo Zhicheng using drunk driving as an excuse, which forced Mo Zhicheng to expose more of himself.
Second, as a member of the Scorching Sun Department, he didn’t fully follow procedures—he let the hopping corpse chase after the mask instead of immediately summoning stronger forces to obliterate it.
If they’d chosen then and there to spare no expense and wipe out the hopping corpse outside the funeral home with overwhelming firepower, Fake Mo Zhicheng wouldn’t even need to show up. No need to reveal himself, and he could’ve succeeded easily.
But this ended up forcing Fake Mo Zhicheng to reveal his abilities, expose his identity, and flush out a few brainwashed agents, both field and internal, from inside the Scorching Sun Department.
The turning point was when Wen Yan suggested stopping Mo Zhicheng, then letting the hopping corpse go after the mask.
And now Wen Yan says he wants to exploit the hopping corpse, to prepare for the future, and at this point, the hopping corpse may be more reliable than the Scorching Sun field agents for finding Fake Mo Zhicheng.
Feng Yao thought it over for a long while, snapped his laptop shut, and looked up.
"This breaks regulations. I won’t participate in whatever you and Old Xi are planning, and don’t even ask me—I don’t want to see that hopping corpse."
Feng Yao picked up his laptop and walked away. Wen Yan looked at his retreating back and couldn’t help but smile—seriously, a square-jawed hulk pulling this stunt, how out of place could you be?
Wen Yan turned to the mortuary. Old Xi was still there, watching the hopping corpse. The hopping corpse, meanwhile, was quietly gazing at his son’s remains.
The DNA results hadn’t come back yet, but everyone knew the bones were definitely Mo Zhicheng’s.
According to Wen Yan’s understanding, the hopping corpse was bugged now—he wanted to help his son, but his son was already dead.
"I’m going to keep the hopping corpse—have some ideas I want to try. Can you keep an eye on him for me, make sure nothing happens?"
"He’s suppressed right now, can’t move. So long as you don’t pull out those coffin nails, even a flying zombie couldn’t resist. Do whatever you want, don’t worry about it," Old Xi replied with total confidence.
Wen Yan heard this and finally relaxed.
He recalled the image so clear in his mind.
He understood the voices in that image.
He could feel what that man wanted to say as he died.
Right now, Wen Yan was about to do something similar.
He was beginning to get why his natural enemy this time was Scorching Sun—this was the path he chose for himself.
He pulled out the jade pendant the director had given him, gripped it tightly in his left hand, and chanted inwardly—
In an instant, it felt like he was holding a miniature sun in his palm. Surging, violent Scorching Sun energy burst from the jade pendant, coursing through Wen Yan’s entire body. The lingering Yin and cold energy within him was instantly, forcefully expelled.
Immense Yang energy surged inside him, flooding every cell, every corner. A visible halo of light began to appear on his face.
Temporary ability: Scorching Sun—it could activate Yang energy in an object or infuse Yang energy into something.
Before, Wen Yan had assumed this was just an ordinary enchantment ability and didn’t understand why it would show up as a natural enemy power.
Not until he triggered a memory he’d seen before did he realize: this ability wasn’t so limited after all, and not just simple enchantment. His understanding had been too narrow.
Activation wasn’t limited to one object, and neither was infusion.
So Wen Yan extended his right hand and touched the hopping corpse’s brow.
The huge activated Yang energy, carrying Wen Yan’s thoughts, his determination, followed his finger as a golden spark and went straight into the hopping corpse’s body.
Mo Zhicheng created this tragedy with his own hands—so let him drown in this tragedy for the rest of his existence!
Watching from behind, Old Xi’s face froze at first confident, then shocked as the overwhelming Yang energy burst out of Wen Yan.
"This... this... this..."