That guy’s corpse was sprawled out over an area as big as an entire sports field...
This outcome, well, it didn’t quite fit the Scorching Sun Department’s usual style. The damage control after the fact couldn’t completely contain the story, since scraping the floor, washing the ground, the walls, and the windows was just too much of a hassle.
In the end, no one knows which genius came up with the idea—someone suggested bringing in a sewage truck and having it "accidentally" explode on that street, so they had the perfect excuse. They got a huge crew and spent three days cleaning up the scene.
The sewage truck explosion even made the news...
The upside, though, was that ever since that day, all types of abnormals in Binhai County—including some with professional abilities—committing crimes dropped off a cliff. In just seven days, the number of abnormals who turned themselves in to the Binhai County Scorching Sun Department surpassed the total number of abnormal criminals who’d turned themselves in over the previous five years.
Qin Kun himself, because blanketing a street with body parts was just that shocking, ended up representing the Scorching Sun Department abroad for "study and exchange"—a convenient way to lay low.
Wan Jun’s face was grim, and in her head she dragged every ancestor from the Flame Group through the mud—seriously, what the hell were they thinking, picking a fight with someone like that?
She could already foresee exactly what kind of fallout was coming next.
Just as she was thinking, her phone rang—she picked up without a change in expression, and then it rang again right after.
After taking three calls, three different factions from outside Nanwu County, politely, using every excuse in the book, informed her that unfortunately, they wouldn’t be coming to Nanwu any time soon. Deepest regrets, of course.
After an hour, she’d taken five calls. Three parties said they were very interested in the matter she’d raised, but—sorry, no can do...
One said, "Our boss just had a scuffle with the local Scorching Sun Department, and got himself locked up—they feed and house you, you know how it goes. Got any connections who can help?"
Another said, "We found a big tomb in Guanzhong County, and there’s critical info for advancing inside. So, not coming to Nanwu this time—when we get a chance, we’ll send you a couple of Ming Qi to make it up to you."
Another cut straight to the chase: "One of our top guys died at the hands of the ruthless Qin Kun. We’re not going anywhere near that place."
Nanwu’s Tuoba Martial God might be strong, but he’s an absolute martial maniac, only cares about level-six domains, and couldn’t be bothered with anything else. The odds of Tuoba Martial God killing us? Almost zero.
But with Qin Kun there... the odds of us ending up splattered all over a sports field? Not small at all.
In the end, there were even two abnormals who called separately—one old ghost said an old Taoist had blocked his door, and another said the fortune teller warned him that heading south spells big misfortune, so he won’t be heading south for the next three years.
All those people she’d managed to win over—before she could even use them, everything was thrown into chaos.
She thought about it for a long time and still couldn’t figure it out—what in the world is wrong with people from Flame Group?
What the hell were they doing messing with Fuyu Mountain? Even run down, Fuyu Mountain used to be some serious business!
What kind of stupidity did those idiots pull with Fuyu Mountain that prompted Qin Kun, as soon as he landed back in the Divine Land, to go after them personally?
She took a few minutes to calm herself—now that she’d lost several key external supports, she suddenly felt the need to pay serious attention to the intel Lady Lie had just delivered.
That abnormal, Su Yue, and the power behind him—they’re specialists in zombie control. Definitely need to put more energy into this.
She put away her backup phone, picked up her regular business phone, and started making calls to handle law firm business.
Once she wrapped up, she went to find the senior partner in charge.
"It’s true—one of them’s in a coma, the other two broke their legs, and tons of investment plans are now on ice. But at least a few projects survived.
Take, for instance, the projects we’re working on together with them.
The more problems they have, the more they need us. Right at this moment, they’ve already got a bunch of things ready for us to take on.
I’ve already arranged the meeting—they’ll be at the firm this afternoon for talks.
Looks like they’re really in a hurry."
"Nicely done." The big boss finally let out a breath. "I’ve already spoken with the other partners—they all recognize your abilities. Having you as a partner is definitely a win for the firm, and even if this deal doesn’t work out, there will be more chances down the line."
"Thank you, Mr. Zhao." She smiled—this time, genuinely, from the heart.
She could feel it: her professional level had finally advanced.
Her abnormal job—was lawyer.
That’s why she decided to be a real lawyer in the first place.
Because she knew all too well: if you want to level up quickly as an abnormal, you have to act in the way that fits your actual profession best, pour your passion and energy into it, choose your road, and stick to it—no matter what.
The path you choose? Directly impacts your professional ability.
She could feel her professional ability growing—beaming, for once letting down her guard, a smile that was pure and true.
The senior partner caught her mood and started grinning, too.
Monday. Wen Yan was at work as usual. Everything at the office was business as usual, nothing out of the ordinary, and true to form, Wen Yan’s slacker routine also hadn’t changed—he had no assigned tasks.
But from the director to the deputy directors, and even Old Zhang and the rest, everyone was more than happy about that.
After what happened a few days ago, the last thing any of them wanted was for something to pop up that only Wen Yan could handle.
With Wen Yan having nothing to do, he spent his time drifting around different departments "learning," and when he got really bored, he’d hang around, slacking off and practicing a bit of boxing. That was just fine by everyone.
After making the rounds—sorry, "learning from other departments"—Wen Yan found an empty spot where nobody was around, went through his boxing routine a dozen or so times, and then strolled over to the old office building to poke around.
Just inside, he spotted a bulletin posted below the employee code of conduct.
The posting said that since Zhang Laoxi had entered the old office building without a key, per regulations, Zhang Laoxi was hereby dismissed. Official notice and all.
Wen Yan just stared, dumbfounded.
He couldn’t help thinking—so that’s what having real leadership skills looks like, huh? You really see it all.
Going by the funeral home’s policies, announcements had to be posted at the entrances of any office building, where every staff member would see them.
The old office building? Still counts as an office building.
"Old He is shameless enough, right? You oughta learn from him, kid—a thick skin will get you far."
A voice rang out behind him. Wen Yan flicked his wrist, and a collapsible baton popped into his hand, Yang energy already channeled into the club.
But then, he relaxed.
In the reflection, Old Wang was leaning against the wall, giving Wen Yan the once-over and clicking his tongue in amusement.
"Not bad. You’ve improved a hell of a lot since your first day here."
Wen Yan put the baton away respectfully and greeted him.
"Looks like Old He told you, huh?"
"The director told me about Uncle Wang, said you carry a lot of responsibility, so I haven’t dared disturb you."
"Haha..." Old Wang laughed, "Not bad—not quite as shameless as Old He back in his day, but you’re getting there. When you’ve got eighty percent of his thick skin, we can all stop worrying."
"Uncle Wang, you’re too kind. I’m still too green—got a lot to learn, and I’ll definitely need lots of guidance from you and the other seniors. Honestly, if it weren’t for the director’s help lately, I’d probably be roasting in Uncle Zhang’s luxury furnace by now."
"What about that hopping corpse?"
"Oh, you’re teasing me, Uncle Wang. That hopping corpse is long gone." Wen Yan’s face didn’t even twitch—it didn’t matter who asked, he was never going to admit it. And technically, the hopping corpse was indeed gone; now, there was only the black-haired zombie.
Old Wang couldn’t help but crack up. He thought for a second and changed his angle.
"Alright, and what about your uncle?"
"Oh, he’s got dementia now—just resting at my place."
Old Wang laughed so hard he actually started tearing up—for real, tears ran down his face.
His only worry was this kid Wen Yan, who he saw as his successor, might be too soft, too ready to trust others carelessly—would’ve been a recipe for disaster.
But with Wen Yan , at least he wouldn’t end up making the same old mistakes.